Let's just say that our alliance with Lillia is probably the shortest alliance in Hunger Games history.
It is nighttime, and, deciding that the cost is clear, we all go to sleep without setting someone to keep watch. I think it was a pretty bad idea, but both Davis and Lillia are tired, and they both slump onto ground and fall asleep instantly. And there's absolutely no way I am going to keep watch!
I open my mouth in a wide yawn. Boy, I'm tired. I study the empty space between Davis and Lillia, pondering whether I should sleep beside her.
Better not take the chance.
I choose to snuggle up next to Davis instead, and, to tell the truth, it felt rather comfortable. Too comfortable, even. As I pressed against him, I feel him subconsciously rap an arm around me. My heart plummets.
What's going on? Surely I haven't developed feelings for Davis?
No, this must be part of my Finnick-missing syndrome. The brothers look nearly identical, and without Finnick around, Davis is the closest connection I have to Finnick. Yes, that must be it...
I'm too tired to try and figure things out. It's better if I don't figure things out, so the end won't be painful. I close my eyes and doze off.
It's strange, but I don't dream of Ellie that night.
Halfway through the night, a loud Boom! wakes me up with a jolt. Davis sits up, too, and rubs his eyes sleepily. I know immediately that it's a cannon, yet with Davis so close to me, I don't scream.
"What's going on?" Davis asks, his mouth opening wide in a yawn.
"Someone's dead," I whisper. "It'll be me, soon..."
"Don't say that," Davis snaps, instantly awake. "Whatever you do, never think that it's the end, Annie."
My stomach churns when I stand. "Hey, Lillia is still sleeping," I note, indicating her unmoving form. "How can she sleep through a cannon like that? Oi, Lillia, wake up!" I stagger toward her, and on my way I trip over the fire we had built the previous night. Davis reaches out his arms and catches me before I can fall.
Lillia doesn't budge, not even when I attempt to shake her awake. "She's cold, Davis," I complain. "What's wrong with her? Can we light a fire and warm her up?"
Davis stares at me incredulously. "Are you crazy, Annie? That sounded like...you want to eat her or something."
"Ugh, no way!" I shudder. Maybe Davis is right. Maybe I am crazy. The Games can give a tribute nasty side affects, and I'm sure going crazy is one of them. "She's freezing..." by this point, I can't ignore the pain in my stomach any longer. I had thought it must be because I was with Davis, but it wasn't the kind of pain from love problems.
As I bend down to feel Lillia's forehead, Davis lets out a groan and collapses onto the ground. I abandon Lillia and stumble toward Davis, clutching my stomach to alleviate the pain. "Davis! Are you all right?" I shriek.
"No," he says, wincing. "My stomach is hurting like crazy."
"What's with you and crazy?" I ask, hoping to distract him. He gives me a questioning look, and I sigh. "Oh, never mind. But yeah, my stomach hurts, too. Was it something we ate? Hold on, the last thing we ate was that groosling meat Lillia shared with us. She ate the most, too! Oh, no..."
My eyes widen as I realize the truth. That's when the roaring helicopter interrupt us, and we both back away (mostly me dragging Davis) as it picks Lillia's body up and flies off into the distance.
"Don't tell me she gave us poisoned food," Davis says, clenching his teeth. "Or had the meat gone bad?"
"How am I supposed to know?" I snap, my desperation making me angry. "Come on, let's try to get some more sleep. Maybe it'll be better in the morning."
"Maybe," Davis agrees, but I can tell that he's uncertain.
Davis pulls me close to him, and we fall asleep again with me in his arms. It's hard to sleep when my stomach is aching.
One...two...three...four...
I try counting.
"I'm coming, Annie," Ellie greets me in my nightmare. "It's almost time..."
"No!" I yell. "Go away! Leave me alone! Stop bothering me! The real Ellie will never do something like this to me!" I turn and run, but she catches my wrist. She gives me a wry smile before she holds up the knife, its blade sparkling in the light.
The knife cuts into my wrist.
My eyes fly open, and bright sunlight shines in my face. "Morning," I say softly. "Davis? Wake up, it's morning."
My stomach doesn't feel any better.
Davis is clearly in pain, and we don't have the energy to move on. "What was her motive for poisoning us, anyway?" Davis asks as he takes a sip of what little water we have. He passes the almost-empty bottle to me, and I drink only a drop. "I mean, she's dead now. What's the point?"
I notice the tiny parachute dropping toward us. "Another parachute," I say. We've been getting quite a lot of these lately. "It's not like a piece of rope can help with stomach poisoning."
"Open it and see," Davis urges, and my fingers shake as I fumble with the ropes tying the parachute together. Davis places his warm hands on top of mine, and I flash him a grateful look as his hands guide mine. "It's not like you to have trouble with ropes," he murmurs.
"No, it's not. I don't know what's wrong with me, Davis." I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I don't know if it's from the pain, or if it's something else. Davis wipes it away with a thumb.
He hesitates before he says tightly, "You're missing my brother, aren't you? That's why."
Did he have to bring Finnick up?
I successfully untie the rope from the parachute, and I am rewarded with a jar of mysterious liquid.
"It must be for the stomach pain," Davis says, and I'm glad he changed the subject.
"Yes..." That's when I see how small the jar is. There's barely a mouthful in it, and there's no way we both can drink it and have enough to heal. I hold out the jar for him to take. "You drink it, Davis. You might have a chance if you do. There's no point in me taking it."
I know that Finnick wants me to live. It's obvious. But...I have to try, right? Davis is my friend, and if there's a chance that he can live when I was in the way, I would rather he take it.
"Not a chance," he growls. "You're the one drinking it, and that's final."
"No," I protest, "You're stronger than me. You can win this, Davis, I know it. Can't you have faith in yourself, for once?"
He smiles sadly. "Oh, Annie, I've put all my faith in you. There's none left for me, you see. But, if it will make you feel better if I drink it, then...there's no choice. I will."
"You will?" I beam at him.
"I like you the most when you're cheerful like that," he says solemnly, gesturing at my expression. "It's a lovely thing to see in the morning. A lot lovelier than a parachute with stomach medicine."
Is he...going to confess to me? What are you thinking, Annie? There's no way!
Davis unscrews the lid from the jar. "Well, cheers," he says, and holds it up in a salute before he tips his head back and swallows the mouthful.
"Thank you," I say, "for making it easier for me..." I can't bring myself to finish the sentence.
Just as I am beginning to relax, he pulls on my arm and brings me closer to him. I'm too startled to react.
He presses his lips against mine, hard.
I feel the liquid trickling into my mouth.
No!
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belongs to the amazing Suzanne Collins.
Ah, the classic kiss-to-force-other-person-to-drink-something scene.
You all had such great ideas for Lillia! But, she's part of a "master plan", and so, here's where the plot is going... ;) Can anyone guess who's behind this "plan"?
[The poison isn't life threatening. Not yet, at least..]