Rated M
Headcanoned and beta-ed with graceonce
Word Count:
Misty Day let her eyes adjust to the twilight, and she couldn't help the little gasps that escaped her throat as she glanced frantically around her. The glass tube protecting her slid away, and the wind was left to whip up, throwing sand into her eyes and flattening her jacket to her body.
She was on a unkempt lawn, her fellow tributes forming a circle with her at the head, her back to a grand Victorian home, and she let her blue-green eyes rake the faces before her.
David stood, slack, at the exact opposite of her, his dark eyes on hers as his body shook. Kyle was at his side, eyes wide, hair wild, and Madison, she couldn't find Madison in the darkness that permeated.
This was a first. It was always light when the Games began.
A booming voice that she knew well to be Hank Foxx's rang out above their heads. "Tributes, on your marks, T-minus thirty seconds." Large golden numbers appeared and the fallen held their breaths as he counted down.
In the middle of their tight knit circle was the cornucopia, smaller than usual, small enough that she could see over it, filled with glittering silver weapons, crates of food, water, and she watched David eye the pile dubiously. She tried hard to make eye contact, tried to make him remember the plan.
Run.
Hank's computerized voice reached ten, and she watched as the trained around her bent down into ready positions, their muscles taut with rage and hate written in their features.
Friendships didn't matter anymore. Not here, not now. A fleeting thought passed through her head and she pushed it away at the first flash of golden hair. She didn't have time for this, not with her life on the line.
She was going to die, but she'd fight for it. She'd give them the show they wanted.
She kneeled down onto her silver pad, already planning her escape route, already planning to run around the others, to escape the bloodbath.
Three. Two. One.
A yell was ripped out of a tribute as he rushed forward, a cry that made her insides churn and she wanted to hurl but she was already running, her jacket whipping up behind her as she grabbed for Kyle, nearest to her, and pushed him towards the edge of the clearing, practically throwing him there as she turned back to grab at David.
She whipped her head back and forth. The dark skinned boy was gone. She evaded the girl from Six easily, side stepping her and the knives she'd gotten from the pile a few feet away. She threw her leg out and tripped her down, using her falling body to propel herself over a dead tribute, an arrow sticking out his back.
"David!" She yelled out into the shadows.
The wild blonde let out a tight gasp as Bastien came barreling towards her, a double handed hammer in one solitary hand, swinging it around like a madman. She watched as he hit a boy she didn't know and cringed as she heard the breaking of bones, the sickening crunch of death. She rolled out of his way as she broke through the circle and began running for whatever lay outside the property, a pack of food on his back.
She scrambled to her feet, sliding on the ground - was it muddy? - her hands out in front of her to keep her from falling to her knees as she ran back to the cornucopia. She looked up as her name was called.
David stood on top of the metal contraption triumphantly, his hand held high, his grip around the double edged ax. She reached up into the air, begging him to come down, ready to catch him if he slipped on the smooth corners. He knelt down on his knees and sprang into the air powerfully, headed for her and her outstretched arms.
His body suddenly went slack in the air, he lost control as his dark eyes grew wide and Misty fell underneath him, breaking his fall.
"David, David get up!" She stammered.
He didn't answer.
She grabbed at him with a growl and hoisted him up onto her shoulders with the carry the training instructors had taught them, her free hand finding the ax on the ground, and she began running as best as she could, slowed down by his limp body as she jumped the same dead boy she'd jumped before. She ran out onto a deserted street, trying her hardest to ignore the yells and screams permeating behind her. She skidded to the left as Kyle joined her side, running as fast as his legs and lungs would allow, his hair matted against his forehead.
She faltered as the blond haired boy tripped, but kept going, knowing he'd catch up as soon as he was on his feet. She heard the patter of his boots on the concrete seconds later, his breathing halted and heavy. She glanced back momentarily at him and tried to ignore the blood running down his neck.
They rounded a corner together and slid against a tree, Kyle barrelling into Misty and falling to her side as they scrambled to hide beneath the brush against it.
"Madison?"
"No idea."
"We have to keep goin'."
He nodded heavily, his arm thrown over David as he glanced around furtively. "Where the hell are we?"
"No time. Help me." She stood up again, baring her teeth as she buckled beneath David's weight. Kyle grabbed at his arm and helped her cross the street and into deeper shadows. He paused after a moment, and she turned to stare him down. "What are you doin'? Keep walkin'!"
"Misty, Misty no."
"Kyle-?"
He swallowed with some difficulty and let David fall as he dropped to his own knees, the dark skinned boy resting against him. Tears began falling down his face, mixing with his saliva. "Misty we have to leave him."
"I'm not fuckin' leavin' him." She growled, grabbing at the boy.
"Misty he's dead!" Kyle yelled. He held up his hands, covered with blood running down his arms, black in the darkness.
"We can save him, come on get up!"
Kyle screamed now, her name ringing out into the night, almost enough to drown out the screams behind them. "He's dead!"
She fell to her knees besides him, her body wracked with sobs as her fingers grasped onto David's shirt, bringing him closer to her. Kyle watched, death in his black eyes. "Misty we have to keep going." He stood shakily as another yell rang out from the cornucopia. "We're not far enough. Please, please leave him-" He hoisted her up, ignoring her sharp cries. "You can't leave me too come on please."
She pushed him off angrily and began to drag David to her again, but he hit her in the chest, pulling her off. She opened her mouth but he slammed into her again, pushing her back and she tripped against him. He kept shoving, his hand having closed onto her ax moments before and he hit her one last time, tears falling down his own cheeks as he let out little "go"s incessantly, trying to get her moving.
She finally nodded, her fingers closing around his wrist and she began walking, breaking into a run seconds later as she struggled to get away from the bloodbath but fifty feet away, as she tried to get away from David's lifeless eyes, staring up at her.
She felt a burn in her throat and had to fight the urge to vomit as Kyle tugged on her now, encouraging her.
The wild blonde didn't know how, but they ended up going down a streetlight lit way and in an abandoned building, rotten at its edges. Kyle pulled her all the way to the roof, wanting a good view for the morning that was to come, for the tributes that might try creeping up on them.
Misty didn't care.
She curled up against Kyle underneath the Capitol blue lined skies and cried.
OOOoooOOO
Morning didn't come.
But the canons did.
It rang out eleven times, and Kyle and her watched with some difficulty as the names and pictures of each tribute was given out while Panem's national anthem played with a certain gusto that Misty didn't feel.
No tears came to her as David's sweet, smiling face looked down on them.
She crawled to the edge of the rooftop as the grids above them died out. Her voice was hoarse. "Where are we?"
"I don't know." Kyle admitted. "All I know is that it's been night forever and we can't see much. I wasn't able to grab a flashlight, even though there were quite a few. For this reason, I'm guessing."
She glanced back at him.
"Eternal twilight." He explained. "All we have is your weapon, Misty. We have to go back to get food, or something."
"Are ya crazy?" She mumbled. "The careers will be waitin' to gut us."
He joined her at the edge and overlooked the arena with her, chewing on his bottom lip.
They'd landed in some sort of city, the horizons murky, the buildings crumbling. It was a grid like pattern, with straight edges but with plenty of places to hide, and Misty couldn't help but wonder how the twenty-four, thirteen, of them would find each other in this maze to continue the Games. She wondered how long they'd take to play out.
From where they were, they could see the cornucopia glistening three streets off, nestled in the grasses of the white home they'd seen when they'd first come up. She let her fingers tighten on the ax by her side.
"I don't even know who got him."
"Misty?"
She turned away and let herself slump against the short wall. "We need a plan. We can't stay here. Other tributes will try and get to the cornucopia and we need to be gone when they do." She paused. "Do ya see the water to the left?" Kyle turned to look where she'd mentioned.
"Yeah."
"We'll go there. There's probably food, and even if there's not, water is better than nothin'."
"What if it's salty?"
"It's still farther than here."
He sat down next to her. "I'm waiting for you to say we'll wait for morning."
"Shouldn't we?"
The boy sighed and pointed up to the skies. "It's all artificial. I've seen it before, I've worked on it. The sun isn't programmed in this code, it's going to be dark. The entire time." He glanced sideways at her. "We need a light, Misty."
"We're not goin' back." She snapped.
"Fine. Fine. I'll, uh," He stood and ruffled his hair. "I'll have a look through this building, see if I can find some wiring, maybe a battery, a lightbulb?" He wrung his hands together. "Maybe I can fashion something. Hell, chemicals would be just as good."
"Okay."
He looked down at her, and couldn't help the look of pity that overtook him. He knelt down besides the girl and took her hands in his. "I'm sorry."
"Does it matter if ya are or not?"
"I'll go look for wiring."
"Ya do that."
He nodded painfully, staring at her for a few more moments before leaving her, throwing a "be safe" over his shoulder, that she returned quietly.
She turned back on herself to stare out across the city, careful to not poke out more of her body than she could, afraid to be shot down. She watched as the cornucopia now glistened with lights reflecting from the home behind it. Someone had taken residence in it, and didn't care who noticed.
She bit her lower lip, wishing she knew who was hiding out in it, wishing she knew where Madison was too. Maybe it was her. She had half a mind to find out. At least she'd be taken out of the Games.
She glanced back as Kyle slinked back to her. "Look what I found." He sat down next to her. "Luminescence." He held out a few hollow sticks to the girl.
"They're not on."
"Well, not yet. This is basic chemistry." He waved one at her. "You crack them and they light up, I won't take the time to explain. But don't do it now. We don't know who's watching."
They both whipped their heads up as a scream rang out through the city and scrambled to the edge of the crumbling roof, looking over. The sound was followed by another loud yell, torn from a throat.
"Does that sound like-"
"-Anyone you know?"
They glanced at each other.
"No canon." Kyle breathed out, frightened.
"We need to go. Soon." Misty whispered. "Now. We're sitting ducks. Buildings fall and things can be thrown."
Kyle let his gaze wander to the water's edge, five or six streets off, across an expanse of grass. "We'll get spotted in those fields."
"We'll crawl if we have to. We can't stay if we want to live past the second twenty four hours."
He swallowed visibly. "Okay. Okay I'll have one more look through this place while we go down, just in case. And then we can go." He glanced down at the ax in her hands. "I know it's yours and all, and that I can't swing to save my life, but..." He trailed off.
She unclicked her weapon and gave him a half. He took it gingerly and nodded in thanks.
"Don't stab me in the back." She warned. "I will get ya."
"I hadn't even thought of that." He admitted.
They stood, backs bent, and made their way to the service stairs, doing their best to keep the metal steps from creaking underneath them. Kyle's voice was soft.
"I'm wondering, do you think they made this arena from scratch, or is it an actual city that's been abandoned?"
She glanced back at him, unable and unwilling to answer, and he took that as enough of a response.
They moved silently through the expense and eternity of night, Kyle hiding in Misty's shadows, headed as far from the cornucopia as they could muster, the mansion's lights backdropping them. They stuck to the sidewalks, their bodies pressed against the walls of crumbling foundations, their breathing halted.
The streets were deserted, as they would be when only a handful of tributes roamed an arena as extensive as the one they were in, but still Misty kept a sharp lookout, hopelessly wishing for a map, or a radar, or something that could keep at least Kyle alive, if anyone.
It took almost ten minutes to reach the outskirts of the city, a sea of dark green grass before them, and Misty took the time to turn and crouch low in the tall grasses to scope out if anyone had followed as Kyle kept walking, ax held high in front of him, his grip wavering under the heavy weapon. She followed after a minute later, somewhat satisfied with the eerie silence.
They walked in a tight bond, circling around themselves every few dozen feet, eyes wide in the darkness, both breathing as lightly as they could in the current circumstances.
Kyle suddenly yelled as he jumped and fell against Misty, his scream piercing and she grabbed at him and slapped her hand across his mouth, tripping him to the ground.
The tributes from District Four stood but a few feet from them, staring back, equally mortified.
"Please don't do anything rash." The boy tribute said, his hands up in surrender. "We have nothing."
Misty let go of Kyle and he fell, and scrambled to put distance between him and the fishers. The wild blonde's grip tightened on her ax.
"Prove it."
"We have literally nothing." He pleaded, holding his arms out wide. Besides him, the girl did the same, shaking from head to toe.
"I want ya to run."
"What?"
"Luke, right?"
The young man nodded his head violently.
"Ya run, Luke. Ya take Nan and ya turn around and ya run before I throw this thing and rip your guts out. I'm letting ya live, and I'm giving you thirty seconds."
He stared openly for a few moments before finally springing to action, grabbing Nan's hand as they both began to run towards the other edge of the grasses. They disappeared into the darkness, and their footsteps echoed and finally died.
"You let them go!" Kyle gasped out. "What are you doing? You let them go!"
"I'm not gonna kill anyone who hasn't done nothin' to me. Get up." Misty growled.
"They know where we are, they could kill us!"
"Nan look like a killer to ya?"
The blonde boy fell silent as he struggled to his feet, his black eyes unsure.
"Now shut the fuck up. I don't want anyone else finding us. Come on." She tugged on his arm until he followed of his own volition.
The grasses became taller as they began wading inches high in what seemed like thick water, most likely mud. It reached their knees quickly enough and Kyle began to grimace at the feeling of it plastering to his pants, but it didn't bother Misty as she watched behind them for the tributes from Four.
She wasn't confident that they wouldn't attack.
She could hear Kyle breathing hard a few feet ahead, and she turned to him in the darkness. He seemed to notice as he too faced her, his hair the only thing she could outline along with his bright black eyes.
"Misty. Misty I can't see where I'm walking, this is dangerous." He whined softly.
"We're out far enough, I guess. Crack one of your lights."
She thought she saw him nod thankfully as he rustled in his pockets for the sticks he'd picked up an hour before, hands trembling. He cracked one over his thigh and shook it violently as he kneeled down, knees sloshing in the mud. It began to glow a comforting blue and she came closer to him, bending down besides him to shield the light from the city.
"How long will it last?"
"Three, four hours of good light. Then it'll start getting dimmer."
"How many did ya find?"
He glanced up at her. "I've got four left."
"Well shit."
He looked away, blinking rapidly.
"Ya should get some sleep." She finally said. She worked at removing her jacket. "Sleep on this, ya won't get wet then."
"Misty, it might get cold."
"I'll walk around if it does."
"Wake me up soon, we can trade off." He took the jacket, crumpled it into a makeshift pillow, and curled up on himself. His voice was soft and she had to strain to hear him.
"Misty?"
"Yeah."
"Please don't kill me."
OOOoooOOO
She woke him when the light began to go out, her hand on his back and shaking lightly. He awoke with a start and she had to hold him down as he thrashed weakly for a split second. He looked up at her, black eyes wide, before settling down with a sharp sigh. "It's you."
"Who else would it be?"
He glanced around, his eyes on the horizon, where Nan and Luke had run hours before. "It could have been anyone."
"They're not comin' back."
"So you think." He sat up, groaning. "I can't help but feel bad for them."
"Who, District Four?"
"Yeah. They like each other. And only one can live. That's horrible." He slumped his shoulders. "Imagine having to live with the knowledge that you helped kill your loved ones." He shifted underneath her blue-green gaze. "Sorry."
"What for."
"David."
She looked away, breathing even. "He wasn't meant to win."
"You, uh," He paused, unsure of his words. "Maybe you should sleep too. You're probably going to say that you don't need to, but you should. Even if you don't physically sleep, you should at least rest. That ax is going to get mighty heavy if you don't."
She nodded at him.
"And then maybe we can talk about a survival plan. Because this is nice and all but one of us is bound to get sick, with all this water. And we need food, and I'm not sure how hunting in the dark is going to work out. Especially with fish." He jutted his chin at the deepening waters, a hundred feet off.
"We can always try."
"Yeah." He gave her her jacket back and she tugged it on as he took his own off and made a small lump out of it, handing that to her too. "That's another thing we need too, light. We'll have to find more of these things, there's going to be some around somewhere. It's not random that they're here." He sat his knee up and broke a new glow stick over it, the light washing over them in a wave of relief in the eternal darkness. He glanced down at her. "Sleep, Misty. I'll keep an eye out."
The wild blonde laid her head down and she watched the blue light up the black as she succumbed to sleep.
It reminded her of Cordelia's mismatched eyes.
OOOoooOOO
A canon woke her and she scrambled to find Kyle in the blackness of the arena, his hands finding hers first.
"I'm okay, I'm okay." He assured her, petting awkwardly at her forearm. "But someone isn't."
"Did it sound far off?"
"Everything echoes around here. I have no idea."
She struggled to stand. "Where'd the light go?"
"A fire went up an hour ago, I stuck it in my pockets, I didn't want us to be found."
"A fire?" She looked into the horizon, finding nothing.
"They doused it, whoever they are." He paused. "I just didn't want to risk anything. I guess they didn't want to either."
"Good thinkin'. But ya should have woken me."
Kyle bit his lower lip. "You were muttering in your sleep, and sometimes dreams lead you to answers. I didn't want to wake you during a chase to your absolute truths." He looked away, his voice suddenly soft. "That's what my mother used to say to me, anyway."
"I don't have time to chase anythin', not here."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'll wake you next time." He took his jacket from her outstretched hands and slipped it on, fighting a shiver. "We need shelter, you can't deny that."
"I don't want to head back in there. At best we can outlive everyone if we stay here."
"And then what?"
"And then I conveniently trip to my death."
"Misty."
"Listen, Kyle, I have no family waitin' for me on the other side. No one cares about me."
His eyes were sad. "No one?"
"She," Misty looked away. "I don't think she cares about me as much as I do her. And even then, she's taken."
"Oh."
"So whatever happens, ya live. Got it?"
"I don't want to."
"Ya do what I fuckin' tell ya to do, and that's it." She rose, hissing in the dark. "I made the promise that I'd keep ya three alive. Maybe I can keep my promise on one of ya."
"Don't do that to yourself. It's not your fault." He was suddenly whispering. "It's the Capitol's. They're all horrible, horrible people, and it's not your fault."
She didn't answer him, throwing him his jacket instead. She sloshed around in the mud, frowning deeply. "Does the water seem higher to ya?"
"You've been hunkered down in it for an hour or two, you moved the mud around."
"Yeah, okay." But her scowl didn't leave her face.
"Can I be honest?"
She turned to him and raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"I'm hungry."
Misty took a moment to answer. "I wasn't able to grab anythin', I was lookin' for ya and David and Madison-"
"I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying, I'm hungry."
"Sorry."
"It's okay." Kyle looked away, passing his hand through his messy curls. "Do you fish?"
She gazed him over and let her eyes slip to the horizon. "I know I said I'd try. So I will. Pass me my ax."
The shaggy haired boy reached for her weapon at his side and gingerly handed it to her, piece by piece. She snapped it back into place easily, satisfied with the click it emitted, and slung it over her shoulder. "Are ya gonna come with me?"
"I should keep an eye on the stuff."
She stared him down. "I'm gonna need a light."
"Oh. Oh right." He glanced himself over, his hands patting at his pockets. "Do you want another stick?"
"I wouldn't want to waste one."
"Then take it. I'll just wait here."
"In the dark?"
Kyle paused, mulling his thoughts over. "I'll come then."
OOOoooOOO
"Goddamn it." Misty cursed loudly into the twilight, throwing her ax down into the thigh high water. It landed with a rather disappointing splash and floated momentarily before dying into the darkness. Kyle watched her from a nearby island, his hands crossed over his chest, shivering so loudly the wild blonde could hear his teeth chattering from where she was. "They're so fuckin' fast you'd think they were on fuckin' drugs."
Kyle shook his head, unable to find something to say to her.
"I hope your stomach can wait."
"Just take your time, don't worry too much, please." The boy begged.
"I'm gonna fuckin' skewer one of these and eat it in front of its fuckin' friends. Little sons of bitches."
"Please keep the frustration at bay, Misty."
"I swear on President Goode's head that I will find ya a fish, Kyle."
"I'm really not that hungry, actually."
Misty glanced up at him. "Don't lie to me."
"Let's just go back to camp."
The wild blonde reached back for her ax, dipping her arm to her elbow in black water. "You're eatin' like a king tonight, Kyle." She became quiet and waited, her arm over shoulder, ax ready to strike, her muscles paused.
She threw her arm forward as a shadow slithered by, and the ax came down and struck the sandy ground, breaking through surface tension. She let out a groan of rage as the animal kept on swimming, untouched. Behind her, Kyle cringed.
"I swear to ya, Kyle."
"Misty. Stop. You're probably right, they're too fast. It's probably steroids, it's an arena after all."
The District Seven tribute turned to watch him. "You're lettin' me give up. I don't like that."
"It's not giving up. It's just not working. You have to admit that."
She let out an intangible string of curses and reached for the middle of her ax, springing it out of the hole it'd made. She paused, feeling it heavier than before, and reached for the stick they'd let float on the waters, bringing it closer for more light.
"Hey, techno boy. Get over here."
Kyle did as he was told, ignoring the quip, and waded to her side. "What is that?"
She slung the weapon over her shoulder, reaching for the end that'd sat in the waters, and pried the object off its sharp ends. She handed it to Kyle, whatever it was, and gazed him over, waiting for a verdict.
"Goggles."
"What?"
"Like, binoculars. But there's no concave, or convex lenses. They're just normal. You broke one."
"Sorry."
He shook his head, fingering the goggles gingerly. He held them up to his dark eyes, and suddenly grinned. "Holy shit, Misty."
"What?"
"They're night vision goggles. You found a treasure."
"You're kiddin' me." She reached for them and passed them over her own face. He'd been right, the ax had broken one of the lenses and so she could only see out of the right eye, but she could see alright. Every was in shades of green, but she could the wind passing over the grasses and she could see the city in the distance." "Fuckin' Christ."
"This is amazing. We're golden with this!" Kyle whispered hurriedly at her. "We can keep tributes in sight, we can survive."
She breathed out, letting her arms fall limply to her side. "Damn."
He suddenly hugged her side, her ribs threatening to bruise beneath his grip.
"I can look for fish properly now."
OOOoooOOO
Misty awoke, choking on muddy water, the bottom half of her face covered in the stuff. She coughed loudly, wiping at her chin and her eyes frantically as she struggled to sit up. Her front too was covered, the entirety of it. She glanced around and found Kyle lying on his back, snoring softly, his golden curls black with mud.
She shook him awake. "Hunkered down my ass!"
"What, what?" He bolted upright, fingers reaching for something that wasn't there. He immediately grimaced as his back dripped down, his hair matted to the nape of his head. "What's going on?"
"Water's risin'."
He whimpered. "Shit. I'm dripping." He looked up at her and his frown deepened as he noticed the traces of black smudged on her face. "This isn't good. This really isn't good."
"Get up. We have to go back."
"Are you crazy? We'll get killed!" He hissed.
"We've got the goggles, we're in better shape than the others."
"You moved us out here in the first place, now you want to go back?"
She rounded on him. "I haven't been able to get food, ya don't have anything to fight with, and the waters are risin'. We can't stay."
He raised his voice as he began to argue, cold and wet and hysterical, but she wasn't listening to him anymore as she let her eyes rake the ground. Over his voice was the sound of running water, like a little babbling brook, nothing more.
"Be quiet."
"What? Be quiet? Is that how you tell-"
"Shut up."
The boy paused, rage on his face, but he listened as she perked up, turning her head this way and that. He looked where she was going, freezing. "Is that the sound of, of water...? This is a swamp. That's not normal."
She grabbed at the goggles she'd left on the loop of her pants and brought them to her face, staring through the working lense.
"Run."
He glanced sideways at her. "What?"
"Fuckin' run." She grabbed at his back and began pushing him, his feet splashing as he stumbled forward. He suddenly broke into a sprint as she caught up to him, doing his best to keep up. The tribute spared a look back across his shoulder, and in the eternal twilight could easily tell what the shapes in the darkness consisted of.
Waves upon waves of black water, ten feet high, a massive wall headed straight for them.
They ran as fast as they could, but Misty tripped as soon as the first tendrils of water hit her heels, and she stumbled over herself as the wave took over, taking her along with it, Kyle sputtering besides her. She felt a tug on her ax and spied a mop of blonde hair before she was brought down into the black tsunami, curling up on herself as they were ripped from side to side.
She didn't know how long it took, just knew her lungs were beginning to burn as she tried hard to break through the surface, pulled back and pushed forward as she was.
Her body hit a wall, hard, and she gasped out, the last of her air dissipating into the water around her. She kicked at it, pushing herself to wherever she thought up was, and finally broke through, sputtering and gasping before she was pushed back by another wave, slammed into the bricks behind her. She broke again, hair in her face, and grabbed at a loose edge, pulling herself up to hoist herself out of the water.
She tugged on her ax frantically, amazed as an after-thought that she'd kept her hold on it, and let out a slight yelp as Kyle slammed into her, his hands around the other end. She pulled him up by his collar and helped him grab onto the ledge.
Another wave buffeted into them and they froze as it passed, flattening their bodies against the wall. Finally, the waters around them stilled, waist high.
Misty let out a little grunt, a question in her voice, and Kyle nodded back quickly, hair wild. She dropped to the ground as her arms gave out along with the rest of her, splashing into the tide. Besides her, the District Three tribute did the same, breathing heavily and pushing water out of his eyes. The wild blonde held her ax up in defense, blue-green eyes darting around as she scanned their environments.
They'd been pushed back all the way into the city, through its streets and barreled against where they'd started, the cornucopia and its white Victorian home.
Its window were dark, the lawn was, apart from the flood, otherwise empty, little parcels floating on the dark surface. She watched Kyle reach over to one and hold it up, water dripping from its corners.
"Spoiled." He said quietly. "They all are."
"Do ya think anyone's inside."
"We'd have been annihilated if that was the case."
"Go in. I'll close."
He nodded and began wading towards the stairs, now covered to the top step. He found them rather easily and climbed them, reaching for the doorknob as silently as he could. He opened the door and waited for her to climb up after him, her eyes on the shadows on the edge of the property. They let the door squeak shut behind them, and turned to analyze the house.
It was bare, save for two or three pieces of furniture. The walls were peeling with paint, the light fixtures on the walls were gone or broken, and it smelled of dead animal. Rotting flesh. There was a second floor, but the stairs looked far from safe, illuminated by a dying chandelier above it, throwing long shadows across the floors.
They both turned and froze as a canon rang out above them, echoing through the wet wood, and Kyle cringed. "I guess we're lucky."
"And I guess someone got a random brick against their head. Or a metal pole through their stomach." Misty mumbled back. She reached up to her face and scratched, trying hard to ignore the prickling feeling under her skin as she ripped her hand away from her cheek. "Come on. Maybe there's food around here, or somethin'."
He nodded and followed her as she walked into what looked like the dining room, her eyes on the windows and on the house adjacent to theirs. She stopped him with a hand to his chest, her eyes on the figures behind the other mansion's curtains. Her voice was a hiss. "District Eleven."
"You sure?"
"When's the last time ya saw a six foot five strongman with a girl bigger than the both of us put together."
"Oh."
She reached up to their own curtains, tattered and falling to pieces, and closed them against the other tributes. "I guess they were pushed back here too, by the water." Kyle rose his shoulders and let them fall in the semblance of a shrug. The wild blonde led him to the kitchen and they both began to raid the shelves and the fridge, wading through inches of water that'd come in through the open door. Misty kicked it shut. She watched Kyle from the corner of her eye as he went rustling through the back room.
She jumped as he screamed, running backwards and away from the door he'd just opened, a body falling limp onto the floor with a dull thud. Its limbs were curled and its mouth was open in a silent scream, its skin covered in horrible warts and burns, its eyes stripped to a cloudy ice blue.
Misty clamped her hand over Kyle's mouth as he continued to wriggle against her, black eyes wide at the decomposing body that'd been previously slumped against the door. She shushed him as best as she could, and it took him a few seconds before he became a whimpering mess in her arms, ripping away to vomit in the sink. The wild blonde glanced at him as she stepped towards the body. It'd been a girl, once upon a time, and her uniform held the number eight.
And she was definitely dead. Misty wondered how long ago the canon had rung for her.
Kyle stumbled to the door and walked outside despite the danger, his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped as he sat down on the back steps. He shuddered in a breath as Misty sat by him, eyes on the tall waters and the house across from theirs. The blond boy sniffed and leaned back, tears in his eyes.
"I can't believe the District Eight girl is dead. That she's been dead." Kyle said softly, eyes up on the sky. "I didn't even know her name."
"Zoe." Misty replied. "It was Zoe."
OOOoooOOO
"I wanna leave soon. I don't want to stay too long, if we know District Eleven is out there, then they know we're here." Misty turned away from the window where she'd pulled the curtains aside, and frowned at Kyle. "Ya hear me?"
"I heard you."
"What are you doin'?"
He shrugged as he continued tinkering at the dinner table. "I found some old cables, and some working lightbulbs. Or at least, I think they work, they're not burnt out. I don't know."
"And?"
"And there was a generator in that backpack you brought back from the cornucopia yesterday." He let his shoulders fall again. "I'm just seeing if I can make these work."
She nodded at him. "Good idea." He smiled softly at her, the first hint of hope since finding Zoe.
She watched him play around with the frayed wires for hours, wondering if his eyes hurt as he worked in semi-darkness, the only source of light from the hallway, from the broken staircases. He occasionally muttered to himself, drawing plans on the table with a white rock that he'd found in the house's rubble. Circles and lines and what he said were open and closed circuits. Notes. She fetched him what food she could, soggy bread they'd left out to dry that hadn't molded yet and teeth breaking crackers. He ate silently, grumbling around the crumbs as the generator sparked angrily at him, as he tamed it.
The twilight had fallen completely when he roused Misty from her bouts of fitful sleeping, dangling a string of lights into her face, a wide grin on his own as she stared openly.
"They work."
"Yeah, yeah they do." He answered breathlessly. "I can't believe it but it does."
"You're a genius, District Three."
He blushed deeply as he accepted the compliment, fingers tightening around the cables. "We can go now, we won't run into anything."
She nodded as she stood and reached for the ax she'd laid on the floor by the couch she'd found and pushed into the room. He stepped back and watched her carefully, the lights to his chest.
"We're not going to have too much trouble with the water, I capped the ends, they can take some moisture. Of course we can't just drop them in there, but there's not too much risk." He added, scratching his face. " And I made them into necklaces of sorts, they're paired, so that we don't lose each other. Like mountain climbers, you know?"
She nodded, although she didn't really.
"I just ate, so when you're ready-"
"I'm not hungry." Misty shook her head as she tucked her shirt into her pants. "And anyway, we gotta ration."
"We already have. You haven't eaten your share yet."
She glanced at him sideways and he looked away. "Alright, let's go. Come on." She took the cables he handed to her, five little lightbulbs attached to the wires and shining brightly, and let it dangle around her neck. Kyle did the same with his half and strapped the backpack she'd found around his shoulders. tightening the straps until they were crinkling his jacket.
"If you hold on to the ax, I'll hold on to the generator." The boy offered.
"Then I'll take the lead."
They'd already looked the mansion up and down, and everything they'd salvaged fit into the bag the two tributes owned. It wasn't much, and they had no choice but to move, with impeding starvation and the killers across the fence. Misty opened the front door, Kyle a few feet behind her (he'd cut some slack with his cables) and paused.
It began to rain as the wild blonde raked her blue-green eyes over the flooded lawn, and the District Three boy let out a little gasp, watching the water falling from the sky hit the city, and suddenly evaporate in plumes of smoke. A fog rose.
"What the hell is that."
"Rain."
"Misty."
She glanced back, but didn't have a real answer for him. She stepped out fully, looking around furtively, knuckles white around her weapon.
She hissed suddenly as her skin began to prickle and burn as droplets of water fell from the sky and onto her bare flesh, and she pushed Kyle back underneath the patio. "Fuck." She cursed in a string, the ax almost leaving her hand as she threw a small fit, her head hanging. "It's acid rain, Kyle. Fuckin' acid rain." She looked up and yelled out. "Bastards!"
"Misty, Misty please. We'll be spotted." He pulled on her arm and closed the door behind her, helping her with the lightbulbs around her neck before she got the idea to jerk them off and throw them down angrily. "Let me see your hands."
She gave them to him, blue-green eyes hard.
"I don't have anything that could fix this. Try not to itch or scratch."
"I know."
"I'm just saying. You're rubbing at your face right now."
She froze, her shoulder against the bottom of her jaw and her head angled away from him.
"Did you get bit by a bug or something?"
She shook her head no and moved to stand tall above him. "We'll wait till the rain stops."
"You think it will?"
She shrugged. "I'm hoping so."
"Misty, I have an idea, can I try it? It's for safety."
The wild blonde let her shoulders fall again. "Do what ya want, as long as ya don't leave the house." He nodded, smiled, and walked into a different room.
OOOoooOOO
"They're leavin'."
Kyle nodded from a few feet away, on the other side of the window, both hiding behind the curtains. Misty shifted to look outside again, her eyes on the two figures standing outside on the neighboring house's patio.
Bastien held a large sword and he'd given the flashlight to Queenie, who was shining it around furtively, looking for dangers in the dark. They weren't being exactly silent, and Misty's gaze left them for a split second to watch the house across the street, its windows lit with shadows that, too, watched the tributes from District Eleven.
"They're gonna walk on it."
"I don't know, Kyle."
"I think they will."
The wild blonde looked him up and down. "That thirsty for blood?"
"Bastien's a huge motherfucker, pardon my language, and I'd rather not meet him out there."
Misty bit back a laugh as she reached down to scratch at her hand. She paused. "Do ya hear that."
He nodded. "They barked for hours on the southern side of the house, while I was working. Dogs." He paused. "But there's more mouths than bodies."
"What are ya sayin'."
"I'm saying that there's more mouths than bodies." He shook his head. "I couldn't see them well, they ran fast. But I'm thinking two headed. You know that canon that rung out a few hours ago?" Misty blinked. "I think I saw one of the mutts with an arm in its jaws. Jaws." They both paused as he winced and his stomach rung out in hungry grumbles. "Sorry."
"Maybe the mutts should share."
He sighed.
"Oh. Oh quiet." She pushed him back behind the wall as Queenie's flashlight ran past their window, illuminating the mansion. They listened to them shuffle around, and finally Bastien stepped down from the balcony and into the water, thigh high for him. Queenie sunk down to her waist.
"Please. Please, please, please." Kyle whispered from his corner, dark eyes on the couple. Misty held her breath. Bastien shifted through debris, sword above the water as he waded with some difficulty. He paused as he moved away brush and boxes and suddenly, he tensed.
The night was alight with his screams as he shook and trembled and as sparks flew from where he stood, his fingers unable to let go of the cable he'd picked up. Misty was sure she could see smoke rising from his mouth.
He fell into the water, sinking below the surface, the waters around him crinkling and lighting with electricity.
And the canon rung out.
Kyle's fingers were tight on Misty's elbow as Queenie took up her partner's screams, as she ran back inside, scrambling up the steps.
The dogs were on her in less than a minute, two headed or stumped, with legs missing or with an extra limb, barking wildly and attracted by the sudden noises. They scuffed up behind her and into the house, claws marking the wooden floors as they searched for her, her cries urging them on.
Misty and Kyle fell back as one hit their window with its snout, growling and snapping angrily. It turned and swam and ran across the property, following its pack, and the two tributes listened to flesh being teared, the noise echoing through the twilight. The second canon in as many minutes boomed.
The wild blonde shook Kyle off, his nails leaving deep marks in her skin. "You're a genius, Kyle." He nodded silently, his eyes fixed on where the young man had dropped. He was shaking from head to toe, and she felt her heart ache and she wanted to reach for him, but chose against it. "Come on." He fell away from the window and followed her to the chairs, sitting down heavily as he scratched at his face, his nails leaving red marks.
"You're scratchin' so hard you're makin' scabs. Ya okay?"
"I just killed someone."
"Yeah."
"I," He paused, voice shaking. "I killed someone."
"Kyle-"
"I just, I just didn't think I would. I didn't think I ever would. Oh god."
The boy didn't sleep well later that night, moving around as the national anthem played above him and as pictures flashed across the sky. His skin reddened as he continued to scratch endlessly, his flesh breaking out in hives and ezcema from what Misty guessed was stress. But as she dozed off herself, she watched herself unconsciously scratch at her own skin, bumps breaking out over her hands and spots running over her hips.
Her blue-green eyes were fixed on the back door in the kitchen, where Zoe's body had been, and as she listened to Kyle whimper in his sleep, she began to wonder.
OOOoooOOO
"Kyle, ya gotta breathe. Kyle, are ya listenin' to me?"
The boy shook beneath her as she smoothed out his hair as best as she could, a cold sweat enveloping him as his teeth rattled. He'd thrown up all morning, and she was working through her own headache, her own nausea, to keep him comfortable in her lap as he tried hard to do as she begged him to.
He'd gone to sleep the night before with a fever and as the day went on, Misty worried more and more as it didn't break. He began to talk in his hallucinations, fighting against her hands to get to his hives.
He began to cough, falling in and out of sanity. Around midday, or what felt like midday (she was trying hard to count the hours since the national anthem had played), he looked up at her with dark, dark eyes. His voice was soft.
"How do you think Madison's doing?"
"Her picture hasn't been put up in the sky. She's not dead." Misty replied quietly. He nodded and let his head loll to the side.
It all happened so fast. As she fought against her own shivers and as she scrambled to open windows, vomiting outside, as canons rung outside in succession, he began to shake against the floor. He screamed out, his veins bulging blue and the only thought running through her head was Zoe. Zoe. Zoe.
She'd read about this and she cursed herself for taking so long to see it, to figure it out. Poisoning. Radiation poisoning. The house was full of it, doses harsh enough that they sped up the death process. No one had stayed. No one but Zoe. And she was gone.
She turned roughly as Kyle let out an inhuman scream, lunging at her, his saliva green and his eyes wild as she tried to fight him off, his strength easily overpowering hers, chemicals running through his bloodstream.
And in a few minutes, if she was lucky, hers.
She scrambled to grasp her ax with trembling fingers, her boots skidding on the floor as he swiped for her legs. She turned and hit him square in the chest as he roared against her, moving but a foot back before attacking again, fingers outstretched.
She closed her eyes and grimaced, her head tilting to the side as her weapon fell into soft flesh, going up through tissue and ligaments and hitting bone. Kyle sighed above her, his mouth open as he breathed out, eyes wide.
He fell to her side and she placed his head in her lap. The gaze he held for her was only half human, one side of him grasping at her throat, still trying to kill her, as the boy in him cried for himself. For her. For them both. He closed his eyes, blood pouring out of his mouth, his nose, his hives, and she tightened her hold on his lightbulbs, her free hand snaking to her own chest as she wept.
He cried out hoarsely, and she shushed him, her hands running through his blonde locks. "Dream, Kyle. And find your truths."
OOOoooOOO
The body'd been taken away, even though she was sure she'd fallen asleep with her arms tight around his chest. She couldn't wonder how, her blood pumping through her chest and fingers and behind her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling, trying hard to breathe. She couldn't. She closed her blue-green eyes, knowing the fate that awaited her was the same as Zoe's, and as Kyle's. Who knew how many else had been killed, standing around the cornucopia for just too long.
She tilted her head to the side as she heard a noise, hoping for a tribute to put her out of her misery as blood ran down in streaks from her nose to the floor, pooling against her neck and in her hair. Whatever had sounded out had stopped and she couldn't help the wretch of a sob escape from between her lips, twin lights staring out at her from behind the window panes. Black and blue.
There it was again, like an angelic laugh. From above her, from besides her. She scratched at her ribs, boils forming there as she looked up at the ceiling again, the hint of a breeze blowing in through the mansion's broken windows. Her blood was congealing in her ears and she could find nothing else to do but turn to stare out at the moon. She grimaced as it was suddenly replaced by a small object, accompanied by that laugh. She couldn't tell if it was mocking her, or soothing her.
A bell.
It, whatever it was, floated down to her side, almost as if guided by her hoarse, unintelligible whispers. It hit her side and her crusted fingers reached for them as her eyesight began to blur, trembling as they closed around the paper attached to the silver canister, the parachute. She snapped it open and found a little see through vial, its end capped off with metal and the inside full of something sickly green, meant to be drunk.
She brought the note close to her, eyes darting over the smooth writing, raised letters on paper that smelled like fir trees, like home. She read the word aloud, tears mixing with the red death in her ears, falling down her cheeks to form tangy, salty trails.
Survive.
OOOoooOOO
District One. The last tribute, was the girl from District One. She hadn't kept perfect count of all the deaths, but she was sure she hadn't seen the dirty blonde's confident smirk in the sky, scowling down at her with mischief in her hazel eyes.
OOOoooOOO
A canon rung out, and Misty's head whipped up to the night sky. Somewhere, somehow, Madison Montgomery had died.
And she had won.
Part 3 will be up next week!