Chapter Five

I sleep fitfully, my dreams forcing me to replay the day's events again and again with terrifying variations. I wake with a start when Miguel jostles my good arm. Judging by the sky, it's well into morning.

"You let me sleep too long," I say.

"It seemed like you needed it. Besides, there's not much to do up here anyway."

I agree, and after we take turns going to the bathroom, we decide we have enough food and water to stay in our cave for the day. There's no point in seeking out a fight if we don't have to.

The hot sun bakes the black stones, and it's sweltering hot in our cave, but we don't dare leave it, still too spooked by yesterday's events. A cannon fire in the afternoon only reaffirms the feeling that we were right to stay.

We try to ration our water, but it's so hot, even stripped out of our warmest clothes, we end up finishing the bottle by sundown, and I know we'll have to venture out again tomorrow.

"We know what dangers wait for us at the stream now. That's an advantage we didn't have yesterday," I say, mostly to reassure myself more than Miguel.

The night's sky shows that it was the boy from Seven who died today.

"How many are we down to?" I ask Miguel.

He takes a moment to think before saying, "Thirteen."

Almost half of us gone in just three days.

I let Miguel sleep longer tonight, since he let me have more sleep this morning, before I wake him. As I sit in the quiet of the night, I try to remember my waterfall, my safe place, desperate for an escape. But even that feels tainted with danger now, the clear water and the woods surrounding it pulsing with a menacing aura. Nothing is safe anymore.

After our now-routine bathroom break, we gather up our things to venture back to the stream. I feel weak from hunger, and I know despite the crackers in the pouch I carry, we'll have to find a source of food soon.

Though we're more prepared for danger today, we don't come across any other tributes, and no other crocodiles.

Feeling refreshed from the water, I'm starting to feel more confident in our chances to survive when I hear howling.

I search our surroundings for a source of the noise, and see the Careers from District One racing up the path toward us.

We're faster than they are, but they've got throwing knives and a large sword. I hear a blade whistle past my left side. I desperately wish I had the use of my left arm to aid in fighting back, but it still hurts too much when I try to move it.

My side aches with strain, but I keep propelling myself forward.

We're chased out into the clearing right beside the basin at the same time that four other people climb out of it. It's the boys from Eleven, Nine, and the girl from Eight being chased by the tributes from District Two, all covered to varying degrees in blood and dirt. The Career Pack has herded and trapped us all together.

The girl from District One laughs. "Five at once! Look at us. At this rate, we'll have a Victor in no time."

"Not if we kill you first!" Shouts the boy from Eleven, and he charges after her.

Chaos breaks out between the tributes, and I worry we really are in for another blood bath. I need to get out of here.

All the other tributes are occupied, and I search behind me, looking back toward the rocks that have become our home.

"Miguel!" I shout, hoping we'll be able to escape if everyone else is occupied.

Miguel turns his head to look at me, and then there's the flash of a blade, a bright line of red forming on his neck before his head slips off and falls to the ground, rolling a few feet before it comes to a stop.

Miguel's eyes stare blindly at the sun, his mouth gaped open, neck oozing blood as his body falls by its side.

I stare in horror, a scream ripping from my throat. I've fallen to the ground and I push myself backward, trying to get away from this reality. The other tributes don't seem to care, carrying on with fighting amongst themselves, but I can't tear my eyes away from Miguel's. Sounds disappear, and I'm frozen in place, seeing nothing but Miguel's empty face. But when two fighting Tributes begin to inch toward me, my survival instincts kick in and I'm running, running, running, though I don't know where to.

Past the rocky canyon, I smash through the short shrubs in the front of the forest, feeling completely numb. I don't know what I'm searching for until I find a large dead tree, big as a whale. A hollow slit in its side is just wide enough for me to slip through. The bark scratches me as I climb in, but I don't care. I sit on the damp, soft wood inside and gasp for breath, hugging my knees to my chest and breathing far too quickly for far too long, but eventually my body calms down and I cry myself to sleep.

I dream that Miguel and I are back in our cave, delighted by a delivery of a basket of apples from our sponsors. But when I reach to hand him an apple, the apple turns into his head, lifeless and bloody, and his body crumples to the ground.

I wake up, twisted and tangled in my blue sheets. I'm home, I think. It was just a bad dream. Briefly, I wonder what day it is. I get out of bed and walk to my window, peering outside. The sky is a deep purple with bright red clouds slowly melting along the horizon. It's strangely beautiful, and I hope that somewhere an artist is seeing it too so they can capture it in a painting.

"Annie!" My dad calls from the kitchen. "You've got visitors!"

I walk down the hallway, forgetting that I'm still in my pajamas, and find two girls sitting at our kitchen table, the strange purple light streaming in from the windows. They turn to look at me, and my stomach sinks with guilt, though I can't quite place why.

"Are you going to join us, Annie?" One of the girls says, and blood starts seeping from her eyes.

I scream but no sound comes out, and I run out of the house onto the street, which is now soaked in blood.

I gasp and hit my head back on the bark of the tree. Looking around, I finally remember where I am. I got into this tree somehow. I'm still in the arena. Miguel—

My brain short circuits and doesn't let me finish that thought. I claw at my throat, suddenly feeling as though I don't have enough air, even though I can feel the cold night air pouring through the crack in the tree. A whirring, mechanical sound brings me back to my senses, and I wonder if there's a camera hidden here in this tree somehow.

But the whirring grows louder and suddenly the tree morphs into a crocodile curled around me and I scream but I'm not sure if any sound actually escapes. I scream until I can't scream any more. I jam my hands into my eyes, trying to block the terrifying images but they're in my mind too. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." I repeat to myself again and again.

When the pale morning light starts to shine through the crack in the tree, I've calmed myself down. If I empty my mind completely, I'm able to sit without panic, and I try to do that as much as possible. But I drift in and out of sleep, waking up from dream after dream of distorted and disturbing images, and I'm never quite sure what's really happening and what's just an illusion.

A tribute pounds on the tree that surrounds me, breathing in that raspy wet breath that signals death is soon to come. It rains sharp daggers and I hear them slicing through the air. Howls echo all around the forest. I clutch my hands to my ears to stop the sounds, but it does nothing to muffle them.

I'm not sure how much time passes in here while I'm plagued by endless dreams and things that may or may not be hallucinations. I think I hear two anthems play, but I'm so confused about what is real and what isn't that it could still be the third day and I wouldn't know the difference.

When the ground starts rumbling beneath me, I think it's just another hallucination and start my chanting, "It's not real, it's not real."

But the tree I'm hiding inside cracks in half, each side falling to the ground. The earth rolls beneath it and something about the quality of the air and sounds makes me realize that this is actually happening. I jump out from the now-exposed stump, and try to catch my footing as I dodge falling trees. The world is a blur of browns and greens. When the shaking stops, my eyes focus and I see another tribute in the distance. She's crouched beside some fallen trees, but straightens up and looks side to side before she sees me.

"District Four!" Shouts the girl from One. "I'm coming for you!"

I take off running, trying to ignore the pain in my feet as I step on broken sticks and sharp rocks. I've somehow lost my shoes, but I can't remember when. My whole body is stiff and screaming in pain for me to stop, but I can't. I'm almost out of the forest and to the clearing outside the basin when another, deeper rumbling comes. As I'm trying to keep from falling, I hear a loud cracking and a booming crash that compounds on itself.

Stunned, I look up to see the enormous dam cracking wide open, spilling out a huge wall of icy-blue water. I hear screams down in the basin that get cut off by the rushing of water and barely have time to hold my breath when the wall of water slams into me and I'm tumbling, ripped through the violent water that now surrounds me.

The water is moving too quickly for me to open my eyes, and on top of the rushing I hear in my ears, I hear cannons firing. Once the water finally calms, I open my eyes and force my limbs, both arms now free, to propel me upward. My shoulder sends shocks of pain through my arm and my muscles cry out but I keep moving.

I break the surface of the water gasping for breath, looking around for any sign of life or a clue to my surroundings. I can just see the tops of the black rocks in the canyon, and I know that the whole arena has been flooded. I kick hard to keep myself afloat, wondering where I can go for rest and shelter now.

I'm not sure how long I'm in the water when one last cannon fires, and suddenly the sound of a cheering crowd booms through the sky.

"Ladies and gentleman, the Victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games! Annie Cresta!"

In shock, I worry that this is another hallucination and that I'll wake up trapped in that tree again, but I don't let myself stop kicking and pushing through the water until a shining ladder descends in front of my face and I grab onto it with my right hand. I'm frozen in place immediately and feel myself being lifted out of the water and up into the air, now freezing against my soaked skin.

I get one last look at the arena, full of dirty water and floating debris before I'm pulled into a hovercraft. I'm immediately covered in a thick blanket, the softness feeling wrong against my skin and then led over to sit in a small cushioned chair.

"We're going to do a quick evaluation to examine your injuries," a detached male voice says, but I can't look up to see who is talking because my eyes are focused on the chair across from me.

"Why would you do that? Why would you put him there?" I ask in horror, because seated in the chair opposite me is Miguel's headless body and it doesn't make sense for it to be there but it's there.

"Miss Cresta? What are you talking about?"

I'm breathing too heavily again and I press my hands as hard into my eyes as I can, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. "No, no, no, no, no," I chant, tears leaking out and dripping down my wrists.

I feel a sharp sting in my neck and everything fades away.