Title: Awake and Sing
Author: A Crazy Elephant
Summary: Or "Let the 10th Annual Hunger Games Begin!"
Category: Action/Adventure/Drama
Chapter Word Count: 2,496
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games universe and related characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Continuing thanks to everyone for their input and support! I promised things would pick up and they begin to here. We are coming up on the Games' finale, after all.
Chapter Fun Facts: Mags compares the mutts to alligator gar. Alligator gar are one of the largest species of gar, found in the Lower Mississippi River Valley and the southern Gulf states and can be between 8 and 10 feet long at maturity and weight over 200 lbs. Later, the song Zeke sings at the end is the variation of Bilbo's walking song found in The Fellowship of the Ring; Chapter One "The Long Expected Party". Two other variations of this song exist in Tolkien's canon – one in The Hobbit and another in The Return of the King.
Let me know what you think! = )
Warning! This chapter contains some decently graphic violence, perhaps not as intense as past chapters, but still. If that bothers you, I apologize and encourage you skip over the worst of it.
12 – Run
We only get half a day more in the cubby before things fall apart.
By that afternoon, I'm moving well enough to make the hike to Zeke's observation point to see precisely what is happening.
Flynn's alliance, the one Zeke calls the Career pack, is dissolving.
Zeke and I bunk down at the top of a pile of rubble, half hidden by a crumbling wall to watch. It looks like Lace decided to end things sometime during the night and took a stab at an as-yet-on-the-mend Pentheus. They spar on the beach with murderous gleams in their eyes. Flynn must have been out scouting for fire starters because by the time Zeke and I peer over the ruined wall, Flynn's off to one side, trying to calm them down.
It isn't working.
Lace and Pentheus ignore Flynn completely. I can hear them hurling insults at one another. Shouting about how they'll kill the other and insulting the one another's districts. Lace is in fine form, but Pentheus is still hurting from his fight with Zeke. I can tell he's weak, but he's still holding his own. Flynn eventually abandons all attempts at reasoning and I'm not sure if it's because his allies won't listen or if he's done the math and figured out this is the inevitable end to their partnership. Instead, Flynn decides to let his allies fight it out, picks a supply pack from their hoard and makes a run for it.
Even through her fight, Lace notices and she seems to mind more than a little.
She gets in a solid blow to Pentheus's nose. Not hard enough to kill him, but enough to stun him and Lace takes the opportunity to run after Flynn calling him coward and all manner of rude things. Flynn doesn't respond. He's got a weapon and a supply pack and he isn't turning back.
Their chase comes dangerously close to our hiding spot. Flynn barrels into the brush and the ruined city, just past our rubble pile, Lace behind him. Zeke and I press down onto the bricks as they pass.
"Time to go, Maggie girl." Zeke hisses as they go and I nod. Zeke hefts his ax and winks at me. "Take the long way back." He instructs. "Got to make sure we aren't followed." I nod again. "You got the knife?"
I shake my head and pull the awl from my pocket. It's still not exactly a weapon, but it's proved far more valuable than even my slingshot. Zeke grins at me and nods.
"Good luck baby doll." He whispers.
"Good luck Zeke." I whisper back. He winks at me one last time.
"Take a five count and take off." He instructs and then Zeke sneaks down our rubble pile and takes off into the crumbling streets. I can see him make a wide circle south while the echoes from Flynn and Lace filter back from due west.
I check on Pentheus before I run. He's pulled himself together from Lace's last hit, but doesn't seem too keen to take off after his former allies. Rather, he looks a bit pleased with himself and retreats to the Cornucopia and the remaining supplies. There aren't many left, but there are still certainly more than any of the rest of us have got. Pentheuse, for once, seems perfectly content with the lull in the bloodshed. Mostly, he just looks pleased with himself to now control the supply hoard all on his own while he finishes recovering.
The notion of his decently sized collection of rations is mildly disconcerting. If the Games go on too much longer, he'll starve out the rest of us for sure. But for now, he can go right on ahead and guard his hoard. That's just fine by me. It means one less person I might run into on my run back.
Well, perhaps not run.
I wait the five count as Zeke instructed. I carefully shimmy down the pile of rubble. But it only takes the short sprints between spots of cover for me to feel the toll of three days with nearly no food and excessive blood loss on my body.
I'm wheezing and dizzy. My limbs are weak, sluggish and I can all ready tell the first hike out here was an overexertion. The adrenaline is the only thing keeping me from keeling over, I'm sure of it, and it's only just enough to keep me moving.
Once I'm out of Pentheus's possible line of sight, I head for the canal. It's slow, slow going. I'm trying to make sure my tracks are more or less covered, sticking to the cracked cement when I can and deep puddles that will hide footprints when I can't. I can only hope that Lace and Flynn's chase is the top story today so that I can inch back to my shelter without the Gamemakers' intervention. Goodness knows I do not need the rain to worsen or a mutt to come my way.
To make matters worse and the trek even slower, I have to rest at every other tree or ruined wall. My breathing is heavy and even through my scars are nearly healed, the friction against the gauze still burns. But I try to be brave like Grandfather wanted, tough like Zeke thinks I am. I try to keep the discomfort out of my face and hike until I can hear the floodwaters.
When I can see the muddy currents at the ends of ruined streets, I change course and shoot west towards the shelter. I keep to the trees and the ruins. I take things one ancient, crumbling block at a time, still stopping for rests, still covering my trail.
That's when I hear the scream.
I instantly drop into the shelter of a ruined building. The awl is back in my hand. Another scream rings out, closer, down towards the water. I creep further into the ruin and peek down at the canal through a low spot on a crumbling wall.
The screaming is nearly constant now.
It's Girl 5, the yellow haired Sixteen and the only remaining Tribute I have not actually spoken to.
The Games have not treated her well.
She's on the opposite bank of the canal farther up in the flooded ruins, but I can tell she's thin. Painfully so. Even from here, I can see her collarbone and the hallows of her face. She's been in a fight or two as well. There's a healing cut that runs into her hair. Her shirt is bloodied and tied around her calf like a bandage. The muddy water doesn't even come to her knee, but it's all ready stained red around her and she clutches what's left of a lamppost. She kicks and flounders in the water, screaming and lashing out at something lost in the murky red of the floodwater.
Then I see it.
A long, leathery body breaks the surface of the water. Thick, knobby, brownish green skin rises from the water. The knots on its back look like the awful faces of the gar that terrorize the estuaries back home.
Somehow, I get the impression that this creature is far more terrible than the gar.
It's vaguely reminisce of the crocodiles and the alligators the grandparents in 4 talk about. The massive predatory amphibians the size of a man who once stalked the inlets and beaches in our District. Fearsome things mothers warn naughty children about. Don't swim in murky water, stay out of the swamps – the alligators will get you.
This monster has to be a mutt version of those beasts.
It's enormous. Bigger than any living thing I've ever seen with a heavy flat head and a powerful tail. It's wider too and has squatty legs instead of fins like the gar. The whole beast is maybe three times the size of Girl 5. Black eyes sit on top of its head, glaring hungrily at Girl 5. The row and rows of teeth in its long, menacing jaws are sunk deep into her all ready injured calf.
It's toying with Girl 5.
It lets her kick and shout, just holding tight as she tires herself out. Once she's sufficiently worn out, the croc-mutt gets to work.
It only takes one sharp shake of the monster's head to loose her from the rusting lamppost. Then, the terrible thing readjusts its bite, getting her higher on her middle instead of just the leg. When the monster begins rolling, turning over and over in the water, I have to close my eyes, but I catch sight of a second awful monstrous croc-mutt cutting through the water towards the scene before I do.
There are growls and splashes from the floodwater. Girl 5 isn't screaming anymore. At least, none that I can hear and when her cannon (five, final five) finally sounds I'm not sure if it was blood loss or drowning that finally got her.
I brave a look back after the cannon sounds and the splashes die away. The croc-mutts have vanished. All that's left of Girl 5 is a red blossom in the water and a little line of string tied to the lamppost.
She must have been trying to fish. The blood from her calf wound in the water must have drawn them in to attack. It's not a comforting thought.
I'm shaking as I leave the ruins by the bank. Not just from exhaustion either. There's a fresh shot of fear in there too.
Final five Tributes including four (counting Zeke) particularly lethal individuals who are not above hunting each other down. Rain and wind, which has been picking up all day, driving away all food and rising the water levels. And now, croc-mutts in the floodwaters, which are drawn to blood.
It's a terrifying new piece of information and ten years of watching Hunger Games has taught me that the worst of the mutts come out for the finale. We are coming up very quickly on the end.
This new horror and the adrenaline rush at the thought of the approaching end get me moving. I cut south a ways. Away from the floodwaters and the awful end of Girl 5 I have just witnessed. It'll take me longer to get back, but at the very least it'll throw off any would-be followers to our shelter.
"Ho 4 – just the girl I was waiting for!" The voice makes me jump again and I make sure the awl is in my hand before I spin to find the source.
It's Zeke.
Oh, Zeke. No.
"W-W-W-" I can't even get out the words. Tears and grief overwhelm me almost immediately at the site of him down. I drop the awl and sink to my knees beside him.
Zeke is a mess and I don't have to be a doctor to know that I will never be able to clean him up. He's propped himself up against a ruined wall because his injured leg can carry him no further. There's a cut in his thigh. A deep one at a funny angle that has him positively soaked in blood. He's paling fast.
Zeke is dying and I have absolutely no idea what to do.
"Hey, hey baby doll." He shakes his head and waves me closer. I oblige him and take his outstretched hand. My free hand hovers over the cut on his leg. I can't decide if it's worth it to apply pressure. Zeke has tied a strip of his shirt above it as a makeshift tourniquet, but even I can tell it isn't doing much good. "Ran into your Career buddies – 1 got me good with one of her throwing knives before she lit back out after your district pal." He explains, pressing his ax into my idle hand. I set it to the side and give his hand a squeeze. "I got her back, but she got me one better, so you listen up." Zeke continues.
"Z-Z-Z-" I am a stammering, tear-streaked mess. Shaking. Pathetic. Useless. Clutching at his hand, fearful and weeping while Zeke is the one with the right to be so.
"Hey, hey." He repeats. "Hey, Maggie-girl. You listen up." He says again. "You got to win this thing for me, okay baby doll?" I choke and try to answer. All that comes from my mouth is a garbled mess of broken sounds. "You got to win. You got to tell my mother it'll be all right and that I tried to come home, okay?" Zeke's voice shakes too. There are tears on his face.
"N-N-No-" I finally manage. I hope I sound confident. Comforting. But even I don't believe the words when I say them. "N-N-No – we'll get you o-o-out of here and all p-p-patched up and –" Zeke just shakes his head and touches my cheek with his free hand.
"No, baby doll. Ain't got nothing worth patching up." He's crying now too. "Now you swore. You swore you'd tell my mother I tried. So you win this." Zeke says. "You win, Maggie-girl. Tell my mama I tried and that I love her. Then you go home and make some beautiful Victor-Babies with Thom Argon." He cracks a smile at me. "Promise?"
"I-I-I-" My voice is nearly gone again and the tears blur my vision, but I nod. "P-P-Promise." I manage, wiping at my cheeks. Zeke smiles at me again. His face is horribly pale and his hands shake, but he pulls me in for a hug.
"One last thing?" He asks into my hair.
"A-A-Anything." I snuffle as he releases me.
"Sit with me?" Zeke requests. His voice isn't shaking any more, but mine has vanished entirely, given way to choking sobs. I nod and Zeke pats the ground beside him. I settle against the ruined wall so that we're shoulder to shoulder and he pulls my hand into his lap.
We sit like that. Together and quiet, while the rain drums on the leaves and the crumbling city around us until Zeke squeezes my hand weakly and clears his throat. He sings. A halting, hoarse little tune, but he still sings.
"The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say."
I've never heard this one before. It isn't something we sing in 4, but I can tell it's not supposed to be a sad song. It's an adventure song. For travelers and wanders. But sitting in this horrible place, waiting for the end, it's heartbreaking and I know it isn't for me. It's for Zeke. To make him brave for the last great adventure. I squeeze his hand back one last time.
The cannon sounds.