A/N: I really have been trying to keep a regular update schedule. A few things going on in my personal life have made it difficult, so I made this chapter long to make up for the wait, even if it's a little depressing. As always, thank you to all of my reviewers! For the longest time, I would get one or two per chapter so it's really exciting to see it taking off now :)
Watching the Games from a mentor's perspective is entirely different than being in the arena, yet it isn't like tuning in from home, either. When you watch at home, you feel bad for each death, but there is really no emotional connection. There is no paralyzing fear that takes over your body as you await the next attack.
When you have two kids you've come to care about in the very place that haunts your nightmares, you are scared. It doesn't matter that you're safe in a high-tech room in the Capitol. You worry about them. You know the chances of them surviving are very slim, and when you try to mentally prepare yourself for the worst, you feel panic bubble up inside of you.
What makes it worse is you can't help but worry for the other kids, too. Physically being in the arena is a different story. In that situation, survival instincts take over and you put yourself above others, whether you want to or not. That is what makes it so easy to lose sight of who you are.
Now, as I sit in the mentor seat, I feel like I understand what every single one of these tributes are going through. When I see a girl from an outlying district cry out in pain as she tries to doctor a bad ankle injury, all I can think is I know the dizzyingly painful feeling torn flesh brings. I see a tribute boy huddled against a tree, whispering over and over again that he wants to go home. It just about breaks my heart.
Yes, the fear and anxiety is still here, even if the danger of being killed isn't. One thing that is entirely different between my situation now and last year is how much I know about the arena. Tributes wander through the Games blindly, hoping they won't fall into a Capitol-crafted trap. Mentors see everything.
As Cyana's group wanders through the hills, a little circle appears on my screen before disappearing. I hear a chiming sound and a tiny purple box in the bottom left corner replaces it.
"What's that?" I ask Alec in confusion.
"It's an alert," he answers, his eyes not leaving Mike's screen. "Tap it."
The idea of directly tapping a screen doesn't make much sense to me since the only electronic I've ever dealt with is the television, and that uses buttons. I tentatively reach my hand forward and tap the little box. It surprises me when the screen responds to my touch and a larger box comes up. A picture of the plants the tributes are walking next to pops up, along with some text.
Poison Sumac
Risk: Low - Moderate
Overview: Has been genetically altered to cause a more painful rash. Swelling will accompany symptoms.
Cautions: Do not burn. Lethal if enters the lungs.
I stare at the words for a while. I get the feeling that this arena will be full of poison. The sumac is most likely just a mild annoyance compared to the plants that will be found further away from the cornucopia.
I don't realize that Alec is reading off my screen as well until he speaks up. "It looks like that sponsor woman was trying to give us a hint. I wonder how she knew about the poison."
"I don't know. What are we supposed to do to warn Mike and Cy?" I ask.
"There's not much we can do except send them medicine if they walk into it," he replies solemnly.
That has my stomach in knots.
Most of the noise in the room comes from the computer screens. We don't talk much. It is mostly a job of carefully watching and waiting. I focus mainly on the screen with Cyana, though I look at Alec's screen to check on Mike periodically. The underdog group continues a steady trek away from the cornucopia until darkness falls. The five of them look up into the sky as the Capitol seal appears.
The first to appear is Craig from Two. He is followed by the boy from Three, the girls from Five, Six, and Seven, the boy from Ten, both from Eleven, and the girl from Twelve.
Nasser winces at the last picture. "I wish she would've just come with us," he says sadly.
"I asked her to," Barley says. "I asked my district partner, too. They didn't want an alliance," he sighs.
They all sit there for a few minutes. A wind blows from the north, and it must be chilly because I see a shiver go up Cyana's spine.
"Where do we go from here?" Tailor, the girl from Eight, asks. She's sitting with her arm around her district partner, who is still in pain from his injured leg.
"I say it's best we go uphill and make a shelter for the night before others come hunting," Barley decides. The others nod.
"Should I go fishing?" Cyana asks uncertainly with a glance at the river.
"That can wait until morning," Nasser tells her gently. Even in the darkness, I can see his eyes glisten the same silver tone as Cy's do. It seems like most people from Twelve have dark hair and grey eyes. Cyana could almost pass for one of them, but she definitely looks more healthy than they do.
The five of them struggle up one of the steeper hills and are winded by the time they reach the peak. There's a few scattered trees at the top. The two older boys begin breaking limbs off of some of the trees and constructing a makeshift shelter. Cyana teaches the others to tie knots using curly grey strands of moss to join the branches.
They go through the two backpacks they managed to obtain in the bloodbath. The contents include two knives, a minimal amount of food, a thin blanket, and what appears to be a small packet of medicine. Even from this early point in the Games, I can tell that Barely and Nasser will be protective of the younger ones. They sit just outside of the shelter and look downhill to keep guard as the others curl up under the blanket and close their eyes.
After a few minutes pass with nothing notable occurring, I turn my attention to Michael and his group. They are trying to wipe the blood off their skin, and by their words, you'd think they felt powerful. The terrified look in their eyes suggests otherwise.
"Time to go hunting," Orion from One says, pulling out a sword. "Alaina, go stay guard," he says, pointing the weapon to the girl from Two.
"Okay, if I have to," she says, sounding disappointed that she can't go murder teens with them. The second her alliance has half-ran, half-stumbled downhill and out of earshot, though, she buries her face into her hands in distress. I wonder if she's upset over her district partner's death or horrified with herself.
The night drags on, and I find myself glancing at the clock. Before long, it's 3:30 in the morning. I roll my chair close to Alec and lean against his shoulder with a yawn.
"You can go to sleep, Mags. Nothing's happening right now," he says.
"But you're tired, too. You sleep first," I comment, looking up at his face. Dark circles are plastered under his eyes, just as they are every time we are in the Capitol. They look so wrong against his tanned skin.
"I'm not tired," he says automatically.
"Sure you aren't," I say with a roll of my eyes, but I drop it after that and turn my attention back to the shadowy figures running through the arena. They aren't close to Cyana's group, which makes me feel a lot better, but I know I couldn't sleep knowing that could change at any moment.
Around thirty minutes later, I see Alec's head nod forward out of the corner of my eye. He lifts it up, still half-asleep. Soon after, it falls sideways onto my head, which is resting on his shoulder. It brings a tiny smile to my lips and the littlest glow of warmth inside of me amongst all the stress and fear. I decide not to wake him up.
My eyes are starting to hurt from staring at the bright monitor. When I blink, I can still see the arena in front of me. It's all quiet for now, so I test that out a few times, opening and closing my eyes to see how long I can hold the image. My eyes are closed when I hear a shrill scream and a canon. My eyes fly open immediately and I jump up in alarm, accidentally knocking Alec's head off of me. He jolts awake and I am hyperventilating.
Then I see that it was only the girl from Ten. Wait, did I just say "only"? I automatically feel guilty for feeling relieved. I hear a devastated whimper from across the room, and I look over to see the sole victor from Ten close to tears. Both of her tributes have died within eighteen hours two years in a row. Her screens cut off and she stands up and kicks her chair angrily. She holds her head down, hiding her face with a sheet of jet-black hair as she mopes out of the room.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as she passes me. If she hears me, she doesn't acknowledge my words.
On screen, Orion, Tiffany, and Mike look at the girl they just killed and decide to go back to the cornucopia for breakfast. Dawn will arrive soon.
"What if that was one of our kids?" I ask Alec, my voice slightly shaky.
"How long was I asleep? Were you sleeping, too?" he replies in confusion.
"Not long. I wanted to let you sleep. I should have been paying better attention," I say miserably.
"It's okay. Nothing happened," he says while putting an arm around me. That's not entirely true. Something did happen. An innocent girl died. Sure, she isn't my responsibility, but what if it was Cyana? No, Mike promised he wouldn't kill her. But the careers are still tracking Barley's group…
A while later, the sky lightens up enough to see the tributes better. Tailor is keeping watch outside of the shelter and Cy is lying awake under the blanket. It's still dark enough for everything to have a bluish tint, but as the shadows lift, I start to notice something strange. It first comes to my attention when I see Cyana absentmindedly scratching at her arm. That's when I realize she has a faint rash across her face. I'm sure it's all over all of their bodies.
If they got into some kind of poison plant, why didn't I get an alert? My eyes shift to the bottom of the screen and I see a tiny purple box. How did I miss that?!
I curse under my breath and tap the notification. It isn't poison sumac, but the moss they used to build their shelter causes a similar rash.
The boy from Eight had been sleeping with only his hair visible to the camera. He rustles awake now and Cyana's eyes widen when she sees him. "Rayon, you-your face.." she begins.
Now that he's visible to the camera, I see he got the rash much worse than the others. His face is completely swollen and covered in blisters.
Rayon touches his face, then looks down at his hands to find more blisters. He throws the blanket off of them and looks at his leg where the open wound was yesterday. Now it's closed with pus filled blisters. It isn't a pretty sight. I can tell it makes Cyana feel faint because her face pales and she looks away.
Now I understand why the boy got it the worst. The poison got into his bloodstream.
As they start waking the others up, I take the opportunity to talk this over with Alec. "I don't want them eating anything here. Or starting any fires. If just touching plants causes that, anything edible has to be lethal," I announce.
Alec frowns. "We'll run out of money really fast that way." He clicks on the sponsor money screen and brings up a list of prices. It's only been one day, and the prices have already hiked up. We can afford food now, but if it keeps increasing like this, we won't be able to for long. We eventually decide on sending them a loaf of bread while it's still comparatively cheap.
"How will Barley and Nasser get any parachutes?" I ask. I'm sure they have sponsors, but Districts Nine and Twelve have never won the Games. No one is sitting at those districts' designated stations to look out for them. I can't help but think this whole mentor system has a lot of flaws.
"Sometimes escorts or people they hire come in, but that isn't all the time. I expected someone would be here for the boy from Twelve at least since he has a chance," Alec replies.
"I think we should be able to use the money since they're in an alliance with our tributes," I say.
I look a few stations down to the lone victor from Eight, who seems to have fallen asleep. Technically we should be working with him, too. And the mentors from One and Two whose tributes are allied with Mike…Now I can see where this gets confusing.
"I don't know. I just don't want to see that money go to waste," I add.
That makes Alec think. "Maybe if we talked to the gamemakers, we could get permission, as long as Cyana is alive and working with them."
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the idea of going talk to the gamemakers. One of us would have to stay here, which means the other would have to walk into the lion's den alone. Knowing them, they would probably want something in return and turn it into an ultimatum. And what would they want? Money? No, they have enough of that. I bet I have a pretty good guess of what I would have to do, and that isn't something I want to think about.
"Maybe if we start running low on money," I say doubtfully. I look back over to the empty seats across the room. It's a shame no one is here for them. I bet all that money will go straight to the gamemakers.
Back in the arena, the underdogs have finished their bread and are on the move again. The boy with the rash isn't looking too good. He's definitely on a downward spiral, and it has everyone looking depressed. The medicine in the packs was able to help relieve the discomfort from their rashes, but it isn't strong enough to help the boy.
By the afternoon, I am beyond exhausted and my eyes are stinging, but I force myself to stay awake. Ideally, Alec and I should be taking turns sleeping. The problem is both of us are too stubborn to agree to take the first shift. It's childish, I know. I just wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened while I was taking a nap and Alec refuses because he fell asleep for a while last night. I think the only reason he isn't still nagging me about it is because he can tell I don't have much time before I crash from exhaustion.
I ignore my brain's wish to rest and listen in as Nasser asks Cyana about life in District Four. "How do you like living by the ocean? I've always wanted to learn how to swim," he says.
"I like being in water a lot," she says softly. She glances at the river. "It's good swimming weather today. Maybe I could teach you all how to swim if it would help us travel faster," she adds shyly.
Just a few days ago, I told her to make herself as useful to her alliance as possible. I think she really is trying to follow my advice. She has a wooden bow that she spent the better part of the morning crafting strung over her shoulder. I'm not sure how well it will work, but it does feel good to know something I taught her could help her survive longer. I feel almost proud in a weird way.
The others blink with uncertainty at her request, but Nasser says he'll give it a try. Cyana smiles and dives into the water. Seconds later, I hear something that sounds like a cross between a gasp and a shriek, and she is flailing to get out of the river.
I jump up from my chair and lean forward reflexively, even if it does absolutely nothing to help her. A million bad scenarios run through my mind and I let out a whimper. Please be okay. Please be okay.
Thankfully, the others react immediately and help pull her out of the water. Cyana is shaking violently and her teeth are chattering loudly, but she looks otherwise unharmed.
" S-s-so c-c-cold" she explains through shivers. She looks like she can't catch her breath. Barley and Nasser have their arms around her in a second, trying to transfer their body heat to her.
An alert pops up on my screen to inform me the water temperature is well below freezing. This would've been helpful information about two minutes ago!
I sink back into my chair yet again with a sigh. It looks like Cyana will be okay because she was only in the water for a few seconds. I just hate the fact that all I can do is watch. Sure, I'm able to send parachutes, but my money supply is limited and it's best to wait for something more serious. I hope that when that time comes (because I know it will), the prices won't be too ridiculously high.
Hours blur into days and I lose track of time. Eventually, I'm forced to sleep, though I wouldn't say it's really peaceful. My subconscious greets me with nightmares as usual and I am terrified of waking up to find my tributes dead. I rarely leave the mentoring room. When I do, it's just to grab something to eat from the District Four suite.
I'm taking my sleep shift in the early morning hours of day five when Alec shakes me awake. It takes me a second to sort through my grogginess and focus on the words he's saying. After a minute though, the fuzziness in my brain clears and everything clicks. Mike's group is only three hills away from Cyana's. At this rate, they'll collide within minutes.
Despite my effort to remain calm, my breaths get shallow and panicky as I hurriedly click on Cyana's screen. Her group of four is huddled in a small alcove halfway up a grassy hill. Only the girl from Eight is awake, and she looks absolutely lifeless. Her district partner died from poison and infection on day three. Over the last few days, their group has accumulated small injuries and everyone in the arena has been exposed to poison. They look worse for the wear with each passing day.
Mike's group is headed straight for the same hill. Their words are light, but their expressions are grim. They keep getting closer and closer.
"What am I supposed to do?!" I cry out in frustration, gaining stares from a few surrounding victors. Before Alec has time to answer me, I think of something. "A letter! Let's send them a letter! How do you do that?!" The desperation makes my voice shriller with every word.
Alec frowns and looks down, and I can tell right then the answer isn't going to be what I want to hear. "Letters take hours to go through. They have to be authorized and sent by the gamemakers. There's no time, Mags."
This isn't fair. There has to be something I can do. There has to be.
There isn't.
Even with Alec's arms to steady me, I am convulsing as I wait for the inevitable bloodbath. Tailor from Eight stares blankly into the dark sky. She finally catches the first sound of a voice and stiffens. Her small frame gets a little shaky as she glances around, probably trying to determine whether her ears are playing tricks on her. In the arena, every little noise sounds like danger.
Another one of the careers' voices echoes through the hills and Tailor reacts immediately, shaking the other three awake.
"Someone's coming! We have to go. Now." she whispers loudly.
The others must have been in a very light sleep because they take no time at all to jump up. Barley and Cyana start gathering the packs and hand-made weapons. Nasser tries to question Tailor unsuccessfully before a new voice makes them all freeze.
It comes from the girl from Two. "Look, they're up there!" she yells, and all hell breaks loose.
It's chaos. The careers rush up the hill, weapons pointed, and the underdogs have no where to go. The hill gets too steep to go further up and heading down is clearly not an option.
Alaina from Two is the first to reach them, immediately tackling down Tailor and thrusting a knife into her throat. Cyana screams and tries to run. Both tributes from One are hunting down Nasser and Barley. Orion screams for Mike to take out Cyana.
He corners her in no time and points his spear toward her. Cyana looks up at him like a scared animal, her eyes wider and more innocent than ever.
I am sick to my stomach. No. No. He promised!
"Mike? Please, please," Cyana begs as she sinks further into the ground.
Michael's expression falters. He glances around quickly and lowers the spear. "I won't kill you. Get out of here, Cy!"
Cyana looks dumbfounded. A flashback overtakes my mind. Suddenly, Cyana looks exactly like Crystal did after I saved her. Just as confused, too.
"What?" she gets out.
"I said go!" Mike says urgently and gives her a strong shove down the steep hill. I hear the sickening crack of one of her bones as she lands on her shoulder and tumbles down the hillside.
Orion and Tiffany have just about finished off Barley and are targeting Nasser when they notice Michael is letting Cy escape.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Orion screams at Mike. He doesn't approach him, though. He tears off down the hill in the direction of Cyana.
Without her district partner, Tiffany is struggling to take down the boys. Nasser quickly grabs her knife and targets her from behind, and just like that, the girl from One is dead. I barely notice because I am focused on Cyana.
She is lying near the base of the hill, sobbing in pain. I can tell she's trying to move, but she can't. Orion throws the spear from twenty feet away, and it's all over.
Cyana's computer screen shuts off and I can't breathe. I had inhaled in a gasp I can not make my body function to release the breath. My jaw is hanging wide open and it feels like the same spear that took out Cyana has been thrown into my heart.
She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead.
I knew this was coming, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
I'm barely aware of Alec right in front of my face. I can feel the weight of his hands gripping my shoulder, but he seems so distant. I stare uncomprehendingly into the tiny gold flecks in his green eyes and notice they are shiny with…tears? That gets my attention enough to focus on his words.
"Breathe, Mags! Please! It's not your fault. There is nothing you could've done," he says over and over.
I finally find it in me to exhale. Unfortunately, tears slide out along with my breath. I bury my face into Alec's shoulder, trying to keep the crying from turning into more embarrassing sobs. When I peek out, I see some of the other mentors are looking over to me sympathetically. Others look unimpressed with my emotional weakness. Deep down, I do care that they are judging me, but I have bigger problems right now.
Abruptly, I get up and begin walking to the exit door. Alec tries to follow me, but I shake my head. "Mike needs you now more than ever," I somehow manage to get out without my voice cracking. He needs me, too. The promise I made him make is the reason he's in all this mess. I plan on coming back, but I just can't deal with this right now. I can't.
"I'll be back soon," I add as I leave. I feel guilty already for leaving when Mike could be killed for his actions any minute. I start to turn back, but I feel a full emotional breakdown coming my way. I have to get myself under control first.
As I make my way back to the room, I glance up at a television screen that constantly streams the Games. It looks like there were four casualties from the confrontation: Tailor, Tiffany, Cyana, and Barley. The girl from Two is just barely holding on. Orion is blowing up at Michael, just like when Osten got mad at me. Mike is arguing that they need his fishing skills to survive because they have run out of food and most of the plants are poisonous.
Nasser is the only one of the underdog alliance who managed to escape. He has been running, but he finally stops and slumps against a tree, staring at the blood on his hands. "Why?" he asks no one. Maybe he's asking himself. "Why?!" he says again, pounding his fist against the tree. He looks out at the river forlornly, possibly considering jumping in.
I take the elevator to the fourth floor. The tears are still flowing steadily down my face, but I know I will be sent into full blown hysterics at the drop of a hat.
I see Isidora's orange-streaked pink hair as I walk in. I'm really not in the mood to hear whatever excited comment she has about the Games right now. She probably thinks what happened to Cyana is the definition of entertainment. I'm so sure that she will say something that I mentally prepare a rude response to combat her.
When she hears me come in and turns around, she looks so distressed that it throws me off guard. Her thick makeup can't completely hide the dark circles under her eyes, and I can tell she was just crying.
"Thank goodness you're back," she says weakly. "For as much as I love the Games and understand the honor that goes into them…it's always hardest to see my kids go." And with that, she fully bursts into sobs.
Surprisingly, her tears don't trigger my breakdown. They actually have the opposite effect. The truth is I'm better at taking care of others than I am at taking care of myself. My brain goes on autopilot and I find myself sitting on the sofa next to Isidora and trying to comfort her.
"I just keep thinking, there's more I should have done! And, and I told them thirteen was a lucky number, and just look what happened! I probably got their hopes up. Ugh, I'm a horrible person," she cries.
"No, no. You're a good person, Isidora. It was my job to keep them safe," I tell her.
"You really think I'm a good person?" she asks, lifting her head from my shoulder.
"Of course I do," I respond.
She looks a little funny with the makeup smeared all over her face, but it makes me feel good to see her smile. "Thank you. You're a sweet girl, Mags."
Hadn't Cyana said something along those lines? That just brings back the scene of the spear and I feel bad all over again.
"Oh, I think I got some makeup on your shirt, dear," Isidora adds.
I pull on my sleeve and see there are bright colors smeared all over the shoulder of my white shirt. "It's okay. I was about to go change anyway," I say honestly.
With that done, I am free to go to my room. I lock the door behind me and collapse on the bed. I decide to give myself thirty minutes to get everything out. Is that too long? What if Mike is dead by then? The thought brings the tears back stronger.
I think I might hate my life.
The thought sounds so weird in my head. It's like a forbidden phrase; one I've spent the past year trying to push away because admitting to it would be giving up. I was doing a pretty good job, too, until this year's Games. Now I don't see the point in my efforts to be happy because I'm just going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life.
"I hate my life," I whisper so softly it's almost inaudible. It feels so good to get the words out. They've been trapped for far too long. I repeat the phrase, getting louder and louder until I'm screaming into my pillow like an angry thirteen year old. I'm a victor and an adult by legal standards, so you'd think I would have more dignity than this.
Regardless of how immature I'm acting, it does help. Thirty minutes isn't long enough to completely cry my emotions out, but I do feel ready to go back. Maybe let Alec take a break.
Then I remember the makeup on my sleeve. I head to my closet and start shifting through the ridiculous outfits. Near the back, a few folded sheets of paper catch my eye.
Chapter 23 guest review replies:
Dude: Thanks for reviewing again! I'm really glad you liked it!
Dusty714: Your reviews are always so nice! Thanks again, and it makes me feel really special to know this is the only one you read all the time :)
Oh, one more thing, guys. Since the timeline is going to start moving faster soon, I'm curious to know what you would like to see in the story. (Like Snow becoming president, quarter quells, etc.) Thanks!