Day 15- The Games (Day 8)
When I wake the next morning I glance round to see Fern already up, apparently deep in thought.
"Morning," I say, jolting her from her reverie.
"Oh, hi," she murmurs. "Sleep okay?"
I didn't, but don't want to discuss my nightmares, so just nod weakly. We eat breakfast before leaving the tree, which we do so cautiously, given our sighting of the bear mutt last night.
"What do you want to do?" she asks.
I reply with my own question. "Is there anything to eat except berries around here?"
"Not unless you reckon you can catch any of the animals," she says. "Birds and squirrels mainly."
"We should try and make the meat we've got last then," I say. "We might as well eat the bread in the next couple of days though, there's not much left anyway, and it'll turn into a rock."
"I think our best chance of not running into that bear is to move away from the river," she says.
I shrug. "I was a fair way from the river when I first saw it. Besides, I think there's more than one of them."
"Well let's follow the river then," she says, "but I'd really feel much better if we went away from here."
"Well lead the way then," I say, "I don't know this area."
She obliges, and we walk around the edge of the lake before heading back along the far shore until we reach the river. When we stop for lunch, having collected a lot more berries, I excuse myself to cut a sturdy-looking branch from a nearby tree.
"You going to make that into a staff?" she asks.
I nod. "Yup."
We don't talk much, but once we've started off again after eating I do think of something to ask Fern.
"Fern…" I get her attention. "What did you do in your individual training session?"
"I used a sling," she says. "Not that there's much chance of me getting one in here.
I raise my eyebrows at her. "Full of surprises aren't you?"
"And you aren't?" she replies, mimicking my tone. "A district 8 scoring an eight? You haven't got any reason to be able to fight, we have to be able to defend ourselves from all sorts of animals out in the forest."
"Fair enough," I say. "My dad taught me. Never really stopped to think about why, even though I knew it was pretty unusual. Guess I'm thankful now though."
We lapse back into silence into that, as I work on carving the branch into a staff for a while, but it's far from finished when we decide we need to move on.
Our walk is uneventful, with no sound of any tributes or muttations, until suddenly I spot something. "Hold it a second," I say to Fern, "I think I saw something."
"What?" she says, her hand going to her knife.
"There," I say, pointing to our left. "There's a flashing blue light on that tree, just like the green ones the gas came from, just before found each other."
"What do you say we get out of here before we find out what blue means?" Fern says, sounding light-hearted but worried, already backing away.
"Um, yeah, good idea," I say, turning away from the lit tree and hurrying away. However, as we jog away I notice that the same light is present on trees at regular intervals, and also on the other side of the river. "This is not good…" I mutter, before we find out what the blue light means.
A bolt of electricity shoots out from one of the trees on the other side of the river, in all directions, scorching a shrub, electrifying the river, and zapping barely a foot in front of us.
"Away from the river!" I yell, as I sprint off with Fern in tow. And my instinct proves right, as the row of lightning trees appears to be only one deep, and we are soon clear from immediately danger, although the fact that the electricity appears to have set some of the trees on fire, keeps us running for a good half-hour or more.
Eventually, we collapse, exhausted. Once I've caught my breath, I'm quickly back to my feet, wary that we've been too relieved at escaping the lightning and fire to worry about other dangers. "Come on," I say to Fern, "the trees are too thick for my liking here. It's perfect for an ambush."
She sighs tiredly, but wordlessly gets to her feet, her hand at her knife as we wander on, fairly aimlessly. Eventually, after several hours, the trees thin a bit.
"Good job we've got enough water to last," Fern says, sitting on a log. "We haven't got a clue which way the river is."
"It's a pretty tricky arena to get your bearings in," I agree.
"So what do we do now?" Fern asks after a brief silence.
"Walk as much as we can until we need to stop for the night and hope we find the river," I say, "unless you've got a better plan."
"Nope, let's just rest for a few minutes."
I nod my agreement, but shortly wish I hadn't. Without walking to distract me I look at my arm and suddenly realise how much it hurts, and how bad it looks.
Fern notices and winces. "We should really do something about that."
"Ya think?" I say, raising my eyebrows. "I worked that much out, I just don't know what to do."
"There are some plants that can help," she says, "but I haven't seen any of them. Sorry," she adds, "I'm being totally useless aren't I?"
"It's not your fault," I say bluntly, "I'm the one who got shot."
She doesn't reply, and I find myself wishing I could have made that sound a bit more sincere, but I'm just not in the mood right now. To be friendly, cheerful, conversational even. I'm just down.
"Come on," I say brusquely, "let's go."
"I thought we were having a rest?" she says. "Rory!?"
"You can follow me or you can stay here," I say, and I'm off. For a moment I think she's not going to follow me, but then she's jogging after me, and silently settles into step behind me.
Eventually my legs are about to give up on me from the quick pace I've maintained. "That tree looks good," I say, and without waiting for Fern to agree, start to climb.
She soon joins me in the branches. We sit in silence as the anthem plays and it's confirmed that no-one died today, though Fern keeps shooting me furtive glances. I can tell she's uncomfortable with the silence, but I honestly can't think of anything I want to talk about.
"That's the first day no-one's died I think," she says eventually. "How many days have we even been in here? I've lost track."
"Eight," is my simple reply.
"Are you alright Rory?" she asks.
"No!" I say angrily, releasing some of the pent up emotion that's been building as we walked today. "My arm hurts like hell. And whenever it hurts it reminds me that it was Shayla that did it, which reminds me that I killed her, which reminds me that she killed Tamla. And I can't deal with all that right now. Maybe ever."
I realise that this isn't the attitude of a potential victor, and even if it is how I feel I probably shouldn't be voicing it to the Capitol and all the viewers, but I've reached the limit of my self-control.
Fern is looking at me with sad eyes. "I don't want your pity," I say to her, though my voice has lost its edge. I guess I'm just too nice to stay angry.
"Concern isn't the same as pity," is her succinct reply.
"Well thanks," I mutter, "but don't worry about me. I'll cope."
"What's the plan for tomorrow then?" she asks, trying to change the subject, "Shall we try and find the river again?"
"We should," I say, "but we can't just wander. The only way to do it is find a nice tall tree to get our bearings from. So I guess we do that and then head for the river."
"And watch out for lights on the trees," says Fern ruefully.
"And mutts and careers," I add grimly.
"Hey, don't sound so down," she says with a forced smile. "You've still got a chance. We are in the final nine."
"But I don't want you to have to die for me to win though," I say sombrely. Fern looks a little abashed, and when our eyes meet we stare at each other for a second or two too long for it not to be awkward. I pretend to suddenly be intrigued with something on the back of my hand and silence falls over us.
I almost add, 'this is all so wrong' to my previous sentence, but manage to hold back the words which surely would not be appreciated by the government, who can kill me with a flick of a switch as long as I'm in here. Not that I'd be safe if I did win, more than one victor has died 'mysteriously' after being too critical of the President, Games or Capitol.
The atmosphere between Fern and I is still a little uncomfortable as I offer her some food and water from my backpack, before we wordlessly agree to go to sleep as darkness starts to envelop us.