Weird schedule lately.
X.X
Apologies for lateness.
--x
Diane POV
It was nearly impossible to tell what the time was, in the cave with Hetcher. Only my stomach, telling me when I was hungry, growling against my ribcage when I could do nothing to satiate it.
Hetcher lay in the center of the cave, breathing shallowly. He was only remotely receptive when I would stand up from my attempts to enlarge the hole at the side of the cave, and dribble a bit of Carden's precious water into his mouth.
The sweltering heat of the day and piercing cold of the previous night were hard to forget, in the cave, where temperatures lingered far longer than they had a right to. When it grew almost unbearably cold, I draped myself over Hetcher, trying lamely to keep him warm. No one had any supplies left, and even as I felt what little warmth I maintained seep into Hetcher's cool body, I bit my lip, thinking of how horrible it had to be for my little friend, who was, no doubt, in a tree, somewhere.
As morning slowly brought heat into the cave, I was, at first, thankful for relief from the racking shudders that began to overtake me in the night.
I realized soon that the heat was a curse, rather than a blessing. The aching cold had certainly been horrible, but inside the cave, the dry heat was like standing in an oven. A large oven, with your only ally immobilized inside of it.
Obviously, I was powerless to stop the heat.
"Hetcher, y'doing okay?" I rasped, sloshing about a quarter cup of water through my mouth, trying to make it last longer.
Sadly, I had reached the point where I talked to him almost incessantly, even though I knew full well that if he was going to answer, it wouldn't be just because I kept talking. I would need adequate medical supplies, but so far in the games, they would be somewhere between 'unobtainable' and 'really unobtainable'.
Shaking my head, I dragged myself out of the cave, trying to reach the old spring with as little effort as possible. I hadn't yet checked it, though I had doubts about how much water I could expect to see.
The amount at the bottom of the once-bubbly spring surprised me pleasantly; I let out a hoarse whoop, reaching down to splash a bit of the crystal clear contents. My hand hit something solid and cold, and I swore.
Ice. Not water.
Back in District Nine, we could never afford ice. The richer land owners and tanners could, during the fall, at least. We just ate what we had when we had it.
The whole concept was rather foreign, but I was too thirsty to consider giving up.
What did you do with ice? I understood that you put raw meat on it, and that makes the food not go bad as fast. And I knew perfectly well that ice was also water, which you can drink. That was what excited me.
I sat on my hands, rocking back and forth, biting my lip. Something had to give. They needed to keep us alive, if we were going to slaughter everyone else, right?
Hetcher's sword.
It its state of need, my brain quickly conceived a plan so completely moronic that there was no way the Capitol had thought of it. I dashed back to the cave, barreling through the recently enlarged entrance.
There was the sword, lying, forlorn, by Hetcher's hand.
Without thinking, I snatched it up, full-out running back to the frozen spring, holding the ungainly sword above my head. Grimacing, I tried to shield my face with my shoulders while holding the blade outstretched.
Contemplating only the water, I put all my muscle into the swing, bringing the blade down on the icy surface.
A crack spread across the smooth surface, with a tiny chink.
"That's it?" I indignantly cried, dropping my arms to my sides
Suddenly enraged, I raised the sword again, grunting with the effort, and slammed the blade, over and over, into the ice. I was just so angry. About everything.
My sore muscles couldn't take the stress for long, and I collapsed, panting, on the ground, the world swimming before my eyes. Blearily, I extended my arm, digging around, my bruised fingers closing on a chunk of ice the size of my fist.
Profusely sweating, I held it aloft, the crystalline surface refracting the beams of the sun into my face, until I had to lower it.
Dewy beads ran down my arm, and I licked them off, grinning. Water! I'd done it!
"Hetcher! I've got it! I have water for you!"
Grasping the chunk of ice like it was solid gold, I limped as quickly as I could to the cave, protectively shielding my prize from the rock and dirt.
He was still there, breathing slowly. I held the ice over his mouth, as more water began to trickle down in the heat that seemed to be emanating from the earth itself.
My tears of relief mixed with sweat on my face; he seemed to be swallowing. With utmost care, I tore a large piece of my shirt off from the side, wrapping the ice up, placing it beneath his head, like a crude pillow.
"I'll be right back," I promised, returning to the spring, jamming little shards of ice into my own mouth, delightedly crunching them.
As water flowed back into my mouth, I could feel myself growing tired, hungry, and sore; all things I had been neglecting in my thirst.
Despite everything, I couldn't wipe the goofy grin off my face. I'd actually done something right. I'd helped Hetcher. Maybe some citizens could pool their assets?
Maybe Hetcher didn't have to die, now at least?
No matter what the answers, things were looking up.
Actassi POV
Something terribly interesting must be going on elsewhere in the arena, because it's been two days, at least, since anything has happened to me. I got some water from my sponsors, and I've dug up a few roots in the lightly forested area.
They were bland, pretty much like my existence. Also tasteless, though I can't entirely call myself that.
It felt like I spent weeks, sitting at that hill, but I forced myself back to the tent when it began to grow dark. Despite my plans of action, I inevitably fell asleep, before I could begin to conceive one. Thus, I woke up disappointed, wishing I had actually tried burrowing out of the arena with the blade of a short sword.
At least it sounded fun.
Lethargy for the sake of lethargy is overrated.
I sighed exaggeratedly, wishing for a second that something would actually happen. Remembering where I was, I quickly rescinded the request. With no one around, it was easy to forget myself, lose my mind, anything.
My old self was in there, struggling against my new exterior, silently blaming the Gamemakers for everything. All the years spent silent were winning, though. I was being controlled by District Four, even as far away as I was sure I was.
They had followed me. I didn't quite know how, but stubbornly, the oppression had followed me.
Quickly, my moment of clarity crumbled under the weight of the silence. I wasn't supposed to win, just put on a good show. It was all my life was really good for.
Back to normal. I was normal, again. Average to every extreme.
Shaking my head, as if that would help to clear it, I stood up, looking back from the cracking shellac of mud at the base of the hill. I gulped some of the lukewarm water from the silvery canister at my hip, and considered where I should sit next.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to perk up, and I whipped my head around. The island was still completely vacant. Even the Cornucopia had not returned since the feast.
Just in case, I hopped over to where my javelin lay, and grasped a curved knife that had dropped from Maren's body.
I had to bite my lip at the memories from the knife, but held on. Survival was my momentary priority.
Everything seemed normal, and I turned back to the task at hand, albeit armed. Something was wrong. Very wrong. But I was too lost in my own skull to see it. Deep in the bottom of my pack, I dug out a leathery piece of beef, no doubt the last from a time almost forgotten.
Had it only been thirteen days? Or was it fourteen? I had lost count.
A branch behind me broke, and I whirled around again. My knife hand shook, but only barely. I knew full well that, with the noise, my brief time of total solitude was over. When I did see her, though, I had to blink, rubbing my eyes, wondering if I was dreaming.
There she was, standing a hair over five feet tall, smiling in the way that she usually reserved for my father.
"Mom?"
Carden POV
Sleep seemed useless, but it came, anyway. As restful as anything can be when you're stuck in a spiky tree, surrounded by little pink crabs, I guess.
What finally roused me were two medium sized packages, one landing on my face, one on my stomach. My eyes snapped open, and I jolted uncomfortably back into being awake.
"Huh?" I muttered, trying to sit up, but ending up hitting my head on a small patch of thorns. "Ow!"
Suddenly frantic, I grabbed the branch to avoid rolling off, breaking my newly-formed scabs clean open. I winced, gnawing on my lower lip. It really hurt.
I blinked away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes, carefully opening the first silver package. I couldn't quite avoid getting blood on the paper, but when I saw the contents- a thick pair of gloves, I carefully slid my hands inside, smiling broadly at the soft material, which immediately soothed the aching in my hands.
The smell seemed almost medical, so I assumed there was some sort of medicine. It must have cost a whole lot, but I was really happy. I nearly forgot to open the next package, which was about the length of my forearm.
Though it was harder in the gloves, I was in to hurry to take them off. Inside the messily torn silver wrapper was something much harder and lumpier, under another layer of plastic.
Slowly ripping that one back, I found a small wooden ark, with a weird rod down the center, and ten little arrows, though they weren't feathered like Diane's had been. I set the weird crescent-wood thing down, and looked at one of the sticks.
Experimentally, I held it like a pencil, leaning down over the side of my branch, gulping at the drop, and the piles of iridescent pink shells. I angled my arm back, sort of like I'd seen the really big career from District One do when he threw spears, and aimed for the biggest pile.
The little crabs instantaneously swarmed out of their shells, waking up their neighbors as they moved, until the whole mass of them covered the ground, looking for all the world like the ground had gone all sparkly and pink.
They seemed to realize that the little bolt wasn't a crab, and encased it, until I couldn't even see it any more. It was like when a tree is falling, on someone. You can't look away, it's so terrible.
Finally, they retreated back into their little piles, the stick completely gone, metal tip and all.
I swung as best I could back up on top of my branch. Thank goodness I hadn't tried to get down while they were distracted. Unless they were farther off, I'd have no chance of even making it a few yards.
My brows knitted together, and I noticed something about my discarded bow-looking thing. It seemed to have a slot, just the size of one of my little bolts. I stuck one in, a quizzical expression across my face, and it clicked in a perfect fit.
What could it do? Maybe the crescent thing worked like a bow. I swung back down, trying to hold it like Diane held her bow, and hit a spot about fifty feet from the tree, The crabs seemed to sense it, once again swarming over, encasing the little projectile, which seemed to dissipate under such a great weight of numbers.
My bow didn't feel quite right, so I angled it sort of horizontally, trying again, hitting something in the distance, so far away I could barely see the little brown shaft.
The crabs rose as one, following the ground's vibrations, until they had retreated so far that twenty feet of ground was showing, completely free of the translucent pink shells.
A plan began to form, something that could get me away. I could still live.
Flipping back onto the branch, I began to pack my water, the little bits of food I had left, and a few thorns that I was able to break off of the tree, having earlier hoped that would prove useful.
I swung the little bow under my arm, preparing for my descent.
Despite what I told myself, over and over, escape would not be easy.
--x
Sorry for two chapters ending with the same POV, I like to mix it up a bit, usually.
Big thanks to all of my readers, and I'm just wondering, who do you think will win? Not want, just think. I'm not quite sure, myself.
Also, what in the last chapter made you think Actassi was dead? A lot of people thought that, and I hate giving misconceptions about what's going on.
Much love! 3