Gone, but not forgotten! I'm back, and I'm updating!

-x

Diane POV

Today, when I went to collect the last bit of ice from the spring, I caught myself skipping. Me, skipping! On my way to gather the last of a waning water supply, I was happy enough to, as some would put it, frolic. Me!

It was yet another sign that the Gamemakers were doing their job improperly. All I could really do was to slow my gate to a steady walk, and hope that there were no staff adjustments made until the next Hunger Games, at least.

Another thing to be grateful for hit me at the spring. Beneath the relatively clean chunks of ice, which I brushed aside, a few teaspoons of cold, clear, water began to well up. It wasn't much, but I dug at the spot with Hetcher's discarded sword until the tiny chink was a hole nearly the size of my hand.

With a little squeezing, I could easily fill my palm with water. I held it to my lips, quietly savoring the victory of my first honest-to-goodness liquid water in nearly a week. Maybe more. It was getting hard to tell, in between the increasingly frigid nights and torrid days.

The main cause of my inexplicable happiness was not quite so inexplicable. Though we had long since run out of the cheese sent by the lovely sponsors, who I were beginning to appreciate more and more, Hetcher and I were eating wholesome, if tiny meals at regular intervals. Oh, yeah, and Hetcher was getting better!

I had long since buried any thoughts of quietly doing away with him, as it no longer provided a solution to the immediate problem; getting rid of Kali. I could leave him alone, if briefly, to look for her. He would be well enough to accompany me, soon. Also, guilt had gnawed me half to the bone, watching him sleep, and it was an altogether pleasant feeling to delay it.

The simple fact was, I needed him, and he needed me. Any thoughts of matters in the future (hopefully, far in the future) were the last thing that was good for that future's existence. I could probably deal with that circumstance as it came. Maybe, hopefully, I wouldn't have to.

I carried the ice back, seeing as I had no vessel to transport the water. It would have to wait, along with a lot of things. But the number was diminishing, and as long as I could keep my chin up, it seemed for the first time, in what felt like another lifetime, that I might make it home.

Actassi POV

Rest assured, I've never been an early riser. Nothing seemed wrong, at the time, when I was awoken by the sun's glare, directly overhead. After the previous week, I deserved all that sleep, and more.

Pain, however, was not something I was expecting. Maybe a dull ache in my overexerted muscles, a tightening in my unusually concave stomach. Not the feeling of a thousand rusty fish-hooks dragged across every inch of exposed skin. My eyelids weren't spared, either, and I lay back, baking in the sun, in too much pain to even open my eyes.

What had happened? Why was waking up on this island so different than the mornings everywhere else?

The smell was still there, though when I breathed it in, the heady aroma sent tracts of fire down my throat. Before my reflexes could stop me, my eyes snapped open, and I tugged myself bolt upright. Maybe the island was safe, but squinting through the heat and the agony, I could see what looked almost like a mist rising off the berry-laden boughs around me, mingling in the waves of heat.

Poison. I was killing myself by breathing.

Though every movement hurt, I managed to keep myself upright, bringing the bloodstained fabric of my shirt up, inside towards me, to cover my mouth and nose. I had no clue how much good it would do me, but psychologically, I might be able to slow my rapidly increasing heartbeat, and reduce the panic coursing through my system.

My breathing began to slow. Carefully, cautiously, I began to stand, though I had to move vertebra by vertebra to avoid most inevitable stabs of pain. I was becoming numb around my fingertips, which was, no doubt, a bad sign. At least it eased some of the burning in my digits, and strengthened my resolve. I would not die surrounded by my killers.

When I had barged through the previous night, I had left a scattered trail indication my presence; crushed stems, trampled bushes, smashed berries. It was my ticket out, perhaps. I blundered along it, staggering alternately on and off the rough path.

Several times I tripped, igniting the pain again, but I managed to keep it from my mind, like the hunger, the, the thirst, and my general wretchedness. Better to ignore it, and spend what could well be my last few minutes trying to save myself.

For sure, I was lacerated beyond comprehension, soiled beyond recognition. My hair was tangled, but I barely could feel anything. I had to get out. Behind me, I left my weapon, my pack, everything not attached to my body. If I had managed to get anything out of that small clearing, I had lost it shortly afterwards.

The ground dropped off sharply, and I was sent tumbling down a steep incline. I could barely feel it, though I was sure that the jolting was doing nothing good for me. It was over surprisingly fast, and I lay, gasping for air, in a pile of dead duckweed.

It could have been hours that I lay there, but the wisps of air I could take in were gradually larger and more even. My heart rate seemed steady enough, but the feeling did not return to my appendages.

Poison. That was what had done it. All I had been through, and I had succumbed to one of the most obvious Gamemaker tricks in existence. Poisoning the pretty stuff, and watching as the suckers took the bait.

I groaned, my first conscious noise in however long I had lain there. What did I ever do to the Gamemakers?

Carden POV

Today, I got a lot of stuff done. And, guess what? I'm still alive! Pretty cool, huh? I'm actually really pepped up, considering that I've been in the arena for longer than two weeks. My cross-bow is working better than ever, and I cut off a few chips, so it's easier to carry.

One thing I did was that I caught my first food in a long time. I had been getting really hungry, but I was still able to shoot a little metal-tip bolt into a squirrel. It was moving kinda funny, like it was sick, so I didn't eat it, just in case. I was holding out for the Cornucopia, and maybe some more stuff from my sponsors.

Also, I got so close to the Cornucopia that it's only how tired I am that is stopping me from climbing up on top of the island and getting some stuff. As it is, I'm really worn out and dirty and stuff, and I'm not really sure how to go about climbing all the way up.

Doing nothing is really my only option, but I'm really fine with that. I mean, I've got my bow, some water, and a few more crackers left. As much as I want to go up there, it can wait until after dark. Maybe when I feel a bit better.

So that's why I was lying there, staring up at a giant pile of dirt. Have you ever noticed how it's a lot of fun not to do anything when you're tired? The sun was still up, so it was really hot, and I felt kinda lazy. Like I just wanted to sleep. I knew I couldn't, though, so I just lay back and watched the sky, with my hand on my loaded cross-bow.

I might be a very small, insignificant-looking shape next to the huge island, but anyone who tried to kill me would probably be shocked by how well I can shoot.

At that thought, I felt pretty sad. Because I do feel small, compared to pretty much everything around me. And I miss Arvid, and my friends, and even mom and dad, I guess. I miss Hypatia, and Esther, and all the people who are dead, except for the scary ones.

But I'll have all my life to think about them, if I get out of here. I can't waste the time I have left on what-ifs. And if I don't make it, then maybe there will be a time that I can see them, and even the people who aren't dead. If we're all dead, won't we be logically and spiritually on the same plane?

It didn't make sense without Hypatia to explain it…

Kicking at a decaying clump of plants, I dragged myself up. It's easier to keep a clear head when I'm walking, and I don't think that climbing will be any different. I slung my little bag over my shoulder, hefted my cross-bow in my left hand, and slowly began to walk up the slope before me.

It was a precarious situation to begin with, but my sneakers had little grippy bits that really helped me get my footing on the steep climb. It worked, though, in combination with my right hand during the really hard parts.

After so much time spent walking to the Cornucopia, I was prepared for something spectacular to be there when I achieved the peak. I wasn't disappointed, but I wasn't really amazed, either. There were several damp packs of matches, a tent, about five bedrolls, and an assortment of blankets.

No food.

After the long climb, I plopped down in one of the bedrolls before I could do much more exploring. Coping with everything was just hard. It looked like no one had been there in a while, but I lay back with my cross-bow at hand, just in case. I felt prepared for pretty much anything, especially sleeping.

I was starting to doze off in the late afternoon heat, however, when I heard something I was definitely not ready for.

First, a rumble, like the earth was splitting open. Not under me, but close.

Then, a sound I hadn't heard in a long time. A noise that still made me shiver, just a little bit, with memories.

A cannon blast.

-x

Forgive me for the cliffy! I love you guys to bits, but I'll be gone for the next few weeks. Updates will be... Pretty much as they have been.

Don't worry, I'm not giving up. This will end before summer does. I swear it on my laptop!