Chapter 9

Careers

I spring from the metal circle and snatch the slingshot up off the ground. I dive for the water skin, and reach it. Finally, I grab the bundle of what appears to be clothes. I have my supplies. Now I have to run.

I sprint faster than I ever have before toward the forest. I don't stop to see if anyone is following me, because who would be? Sometimes being twelve has its advantages. I get to the tree line completely unnoticed. I'm fastest in the trees, but it would be stupid to being climbing right now. In the few instants it took to scale this tree someone could have my throat slit-that wouldn't benefit Katniss in anyway.

I run, and keep running, stumbling a few times on some branches. I'm not used to uneven ground-everything in 11 is flat. I press farther into this unfamiliar forest, looking for water, but listening intently as the sounds of metal clanging on metal and children's dying screams fade with the distance.

When I can no longer hear the sounds of death emanating from behind me I select a tree with sturdy branches and begin to climb. The boots on my feet make it difficult to curl my toes around the branches, making me wobble a few times. It doesn't help that my hands are full, I'm still carrying my slingshot, and my water skin, and the bundle, which I have confirmed is clothes. I zipped the bundle up in the jacket when I was running, so it's not in the way as much, but the slingshot and water skin have made climbing an interesting task.

When I'm about 20 feet in the air I stop to rearrange my supplies. I tuck the slingshot into my belt, and make a note to collect some stones for ammunition later. I wedge the empty water skin into the bundle of clothes, and I survey fabrics. There's a sweatshirt, a spare jacket, and an extra pair of socks. I smile a little, it's good that I have some spare clothes; they'll help keep me warm at night.

I take a few deep breaths, and think about my next move. Water, I need water if I'm going to make it more than a few days. However, with that thought in mind, I also need to find Katniss.

I know that Katniss is a hunter, and I know that Katniss sets snares. I figure that will be my best bet for tracking her, finding her snares. With a few shaky breaths, I begin scanning the trees. Most of these types of trees are nothing like the ones from home. They are very tall, and the branches are thick near the trunk, and spindly as they extend from the tree. It will be tricky business 'flying' through them, however the farther I look into the forest the more variety I see. There are trees from home-ones that I know will provide food-and trees I have never seen before.

Directly in my line of sight there's a thick branch that would be a small leap. I consider making such a jump in the clunky arena boots-not a safe option. I perch myself expertly on my current branch, so I can easily remove them. They are too large for these branches, and it's easier for me to displace my weight accurately without them.

When they're off I consider taking off my socks as well. They may get caught or snagged in the trees, but in the end I decide to keep them on, getting my feet cut up on the first day won't really help me find water, or Katniss-though I am beginning to think the two may go hand in hand. Katniss will find water, and I will find Katniss-hopefully.

I'm beginning to regret passing up that small backpack at the Cornucopia-right now climbing would be easier without the hindrance of these supplies threatening to fall from my clutches. I think for a moment, and come up with a solution. I take the spare sweatshirt and knot the bottom and arms preventing anything from falling through the opening for my torso, or arms and plummeting to the ground. I stuff the spare jacket, and socks, and my boots into the sweatshirt and tie it around my waist using a knot I learned in training-that I can easily slip off with one tug, but that will securely hold my things.

I slide my water skin into an empty pocket of my original arena outfit jacket, and I now-with everything organized-feel much more balanced. The makeshift pack I have created seems to be holding up just fine, and I test it by climbing up a few more feet. It never threatens to fall, so I tentatively make the first leap, into a tree only two feet away. I land solidly, and soundlessly in my sock feet.

With this first hurdle complete my confidence grows, and I begin to look for food, and water. As I leap from tree to tree-gradually gaining elevation-I notice that the ground is sloping beneath me. I'm entering a valley. In terms of defense one would prefer a mountain to a valley, but in terms of finding water… this may be the best place to look.

Water flows downhill, so chances are that somewhere in this valley there is a lake or a clean pool of water. I will be unable to purify the water-though I doubt it's poisoned. The Gamemakers like bloody deaths, not one's that come quickly and quietly. I become a statue for a moment-just listening.

I know my best bet for finding water is listening for any sign of running water. In 11 I can hear the river even when we work in the orchards. It's only a small rushing sound, but it's distinguishable out in the quiet of the trees. I also know from experience that birds-Mockingjays especially-normally have flight patterns toward water in the early morning and late evening.

I can't hear a river, though I didn't expect to; it's more likely that I'm near a still body of water. If that's the case, my best bet will be searching for animals, or another clearing in the trees much like the one near the Cornucopia. I see no immediate signs of a break in the foliage so I continue leaping from tree to tree, my eyes trained on the ground below, and the branches under me.

Judging by the sun's position it's about two o'clock when I take my first rest. I've been moving solidly all day, and I desperately need some water. I know that there's no point in wallowing in self-pity at the moment, so I take advantage of my knowledge of the trees and find something to eat.

I scan the ground, looking for something that could provide me a meal. There's some plants nearby that I learned about in the training center-they have edible roots. I scamper down my tree and dig them up quickly. Just as I turn to climb back up my tree a cannon booms, startling me into rapidly scaling the fir's branches. When I'm safely in the air I tick off each boom. I count eleven.

That's eleven tributes that are no longer breathing. Eleven tributes that no longer possess beating hearts. But most importantly that's eleven children-none more than eighteen-who have been deprived of their right to simply exist. They have been murdered, and the death will not stop there. No, there are still twelve who must die, and one lone tribute will make it out of this arena. I can't imagine being that one-being a victor. It must be a living nightmare; I hope Katniss can handle it-though I know in my heart that she can.

I gnaw on the roots for a while-they taste fine, though they don't provide much moisture, and they're hard to swallow dry. With my stomach satiated I continue my quest for water.

When the sun begins to set I judge it to be about five. I've been here for at least half a day, and I still have no water. Without it I will last-at most-three days, though I suspect it will be less in this arena-it's very warm and there's little breeze.

The sun dips lower on the horizon, and I finally concede to sleeping tonight, without water, and without knowing where Katniss is in this vast forest. I climb as high as I dare-which I judge to be about a hundred feet-and select a fork in the branches that will easily support my weight. I notice the temperature dropping as the sun goes down, so I pull on the spare sweatshirt under my jacket, and use the spare jacket to cover my legs. My boots hold in heat, so I put them on to keep my feet warm, and I slide my hands into the spare socks.

I hear the occasional hoot of an owl as night falls, and I think of home. We have owls in 11, especially barn owls that fly around the orchards and in our food stores. It's a calming sound. Not so calming, however, are the dog howls, which come from all directions-I'm glad I'm in the air.

I drift off to sleep, only to be woken less than two hours later by the anthem, and the images of the dead being projected into the sky. Katniss is alive-as I expected, and so is Peeta. The Careers have made it through the day as well, except for the boy from 4.

As soon as the anthem and image projections are complete the sounds of the woods pick up. My sort-of-ally has made it through day one. I sigh in relief, and quickly drop back off to sleep.

My eyes fly open when I hear footsteps approaching me. Rather than panic-like I should-I freeze, listening. I'm trying to determine who is coming and what they're after. I hear a person shuffling around directly under my tree, though they don't seem to be armed, and I doubt they know I'm here.

I listen intently, until I realize they're attempting to gather firewood, in the dark, to start a fire and warm up. I feel bad for the unknown tribute, the only reason they are trying such a risky move is because they are cold. This isn't right. How, as a nation, have we allowed, and accepted even, things like this? I will never know.

I know that I must distance myself from this fire starter. The fire will be a beacon, pulling in whoever is nearby and thirsty for blood. I take off my boots and pull the spare jacket over my sweatshirt and jacket, as quietly as I can. This person is more concerned with lighting their fire than the possibility of a tribute in a tree nearby, so I'm not concerned.

My slingshot is still tucked in my belt, and the water skin-as empty as before-is zipped into my jacket pocket. I'm ready to move-in my special way. Just as I turn to make the first leap into an adjacent tree I see the flames begin to raise out of the kindling the tribute-who is female-is settling down to sleep next to it.

I wait about fifteen minutes, and when I'm sure she's dropped off into a deep sleep I leap from tree to tree, utilizing the light from her fire and the moonlight to locate the branches. I move from tree to tree until I reach a patch of willows, which appear to go in a wide arc-I can't avoid them. Willows are not conducive for jumping from branch to branch, their branches dangle, and cannot aid me. I sigh, and settle down here to try and get some more sleep. It's too late, and too dark for me to consider climbing down and continuing on foot to get around the willows, and I don't want to double back.

From here I can still see the flames, but I won't be shown be the flickers of light. I can rest here, still a good hundred feet in the air-without worrying that someone will spot me. I keep my boots off this time, and simply drift off in the sweatshirt and two jackets, ignoring the chill on my feet and legs.

This morning I don't awake an hour before dawn, I awake a few hours too soon. At first I assume that there was another time change, but I quickly realize why I awoke so soon. Someone is coming. I listen for a moment, and I determine that there is more than one person-probably between five and six people. I don't dare try to move now, it will only alert them of my presence.

They run towards the girl-who I assume was still sleeping by her fire-and she puts up no fight. They have her before she can even run. I can just make out the words "No! No, please! I-" before the begging quickly becomes a tormented scream. I wince. It's not right-not fair-to reduce people down to begging for their lives, isn't that the one thing they should be guaranteed?

The cheers and congratulations shared at this dead girls expense may be worse than the screaming. Is it honestly necessary to celebrate someone else's death? Could the Careers be any more despicable? I doubt it.

They check the dead tribute for supplies but I realize something they don't-she's not dead. At least not yet, her cannon hasn't fired. The poor girl is suffering and dying slowly.

The Careers begin moving toward my tree, though I'm certain they won't notice me, nor will they look a hundred feet up into a tree for a twelve year old. It's not like I'm a threat.

They pass under me without even bothering to move quietly. They trample through the forest, daring anyone to attack them. If I were larger I might, just to spite them. I peer at the group and quickly realize-with great shock and disappointment-that Peeta is with them.

For a moment I feel betrayed. I had thought Katniss had two people on her side, two people trying to get her out. Then it hits me; he's doing this for her. Whatever he has done, it's been to protect her. I was right before, he really does love her.

They don't even pause under my tree, and their torches and flashlights don't reach me up in the tree. I remain hidden. However, just as the lights fade into the distance, the Careers-and Peeta-moving on, I catch a glimpse of something. It's a flash of silver, and I quickly distinguish what it is: a snare. It's the wire of a snare.

It's a snare. That can only mean one thing: Katniss is nearby.

Hey guys! I wanted to let you know that I do know that Rue only had her socks for some time in the arena. That will be arranged. I do my research as much as possible :). Let me know what you think. I know there's not a lot of action or dialogue in these chapters. It will probably be that way until Katniss and Rue team up. Sorry :(. If you have any ideas for something she might do in the arena let me know. Sorry to leave you with a sort-of cliffhanger.

Thanks

R&R