Chapter 12

I wake up and Flint is still sleeping. His injury is becoming a deep purple scar, which I try to take as a good sign. Deciding that I can let him sleep for a little while longer, I fish a bloffinch with my old method and cook it. Then I take some medicine and smear it all around his wound.

Finally I decide to wake up him.

"Hey," I smile. "Are you feeling any better?"

He simply nods, and I can't ask for anything more. He's weakened and is making an enormous effort just to keep his eyes open. There is no medicine left after using the last today, although maybe his district can buy him something; they're richer than mine.
We have food and water but audience will get bored if nothing happens today, perhaps just talking will keep them entertaining. Let's pray for that.

"Did you kill anyone at the Cornucopia?" I ask him.

He shakes his head.

"And Careers stuck with you?"

"Yes." he answers me shaking. "I was the one that brought them weapons when we went walking, at night. Then… then…" It must be really hard for him to talk. "That was my duty; we planned it before the Games."

I don't know if what Flash is saying is true, but I understand his idea. Nobody likes tributes planning things before the Games, so maybe that will make Gamemakers angry and plan something to kill Squirrel or Aquette. That, or they'll kill us.

"Do you know how many days we've spent here in the arena?" I ask him: I lost my count.

"Today… from today it's been a little over one week."

Okay. Making Flint talk isn't a good idea, he needs medicine NOW, if not... If not, he dies.

He smiles at me but I can see he is really hurt.

"Flint, you're gonna get better. You just need medicine." I tell him firmly, opening my eyes wider to make him realize we need to make a good show if we want sponsors. "Imagine yourself, in your district again, with your family, a better house, your name never again in the reaping…"

"I don't care about that," He murmurs. Ah good. He understood; the sponsors like romance. "I don't care if I'm back again, if I'm rich, or even if I have no chances of going back to The Hunger Games. I will be the most miserable guy in Panem."

"Why?"

"Because I won't have you with me." He murmurs. It's good to see he's got it, but of course talking isn't good for him either. "Regan, without you I'm dead."

I stare at him.

I can almost hear the sighs in the Capitol, but by now some parachute would have arrived, and it hasn't. But I don't care. Nobody has ever said anything like that to me before.

"Attention, tributes." Calls the voice of Venius Smith, our beloved narrator of the Games. "First of all, congratulations of getting at this point of the Games, there's only five of you left, well done." He commends.

This means nothing to me. I don't care about where we are in the games. What's happening? Are we being invited to a feast?

"You are all invited to a Feast at the Cornucopia. It will start at dawn. As we can see, you all need something, desperately."

It's as I thought.

This also means we're not the only ones in bad conditions. Which is good.

"At the cornucopia, you will see a bag with your district number. If you reach it, your chances of surviving will be considerably higher, so think on it twice, before declining."

A feast. I have to go and risk my life if I want to save Flint. Although... There's something strange about this. There are going to be two packs for us, because we belong to different districts. Flint will have medicine, obviously. So what is in my pack?

What do I need desperately?

"Regan, no." he says to me before pulling the axe out of my reach. "Yeah, I saved you, but you already saved me too. I can survive like this, don't go."

"Look, I don't care what you say, I can't leave you like this. You'll die."

"And that matters?" His face is shining. What is he talking about? "We are not helping each other by saving each other. I've wanted to tell you this since we got together, but I didn't know how."

"What are you talking about?"

"Listen." I've never seen him this serious. "Burning that tree was a good idea; I just stopped them to save you. I stayed there when the other Careers started to fight, to defend you. I took the risk of being killed by the other Careers to be with you, I nearly died when I save you from the tracker jackers and the same happened when I sheltered you against the rock rain."

Why's he saying this? Is he lamenting it?

"I don't regret any of that. You trusted me, and showed me this place, you gave me food and weapons. You ran when the mutts appeared to save me and kill that thing, and now here you are, saving me again." He sighs. "We do this because we love each other, but we also both know that there is only one victor, only one district will be fine. And mine has a lot of victors. Your family needs this more than mine."

"They can survive! I just repair clothes: I'm not worth anything!" I shout in fury. "You want to die just because your district had more victors than mine? That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard in my life!"

"Regan, please." He interrupts, trying to calm me down. I'm not doing either of us a favour shouting like this.

"I'm sorry," I say, still annoyed. "Continue."

"We're not going to separate because we are better together. If any of other rivals find us, we die. If we are together, we have a better chance."

So? We're not doing anything productive right now, but I'm positive the Capitol will be unable to tear their eyes away from the screen. He pauses for a moment, possibly due to pain, possibly for effect.

"I want you to live, not me. I you go to that feast, you'll die. Even Squirrel, as you call her, could kill you, and she is half blind."

"So why am I helping you?" I ask him angrily. "If you don't want to live, why am I helping you? I know the answer, Flint, and so do you."

"Because I love you, and you love me." He replies, voice steady despite his wounds. "I would live, just to help you, until we were the last two tributes. Then I would give my life for you. I can't let you do this."

I sit there, not saying a word.

I'm going to go the Feast, and nothing will stop me. I can't let someone I love die like that, and I love Flint. Love is stronger than the Capitol, the audience and these bloody Hunger Games.

"Let's sleep, and then wake up when they show the faces at the sky. There is always a fallen in the Feast." He says, trying to make me feel calmer.

I can't say no: This is too good an opportunity to miss. I lie next to him, until I hear his breathing slow and his body relax.

I take the axe, hide three knives on my pocket, and, trying to make the least noise I can, I leave the lake. I reach the cornucopia faster than I expected.

There I see the five bags, the five numbers. 1, 2, 4, 7, and 11.

The bag marked number one is a tiny little thing; and I'm betting anything it's the medicine Flint needs. The number two bag is also tiny; it could be something for Squirrel's eye, although knowing her, it's probably knives. The blue bag labelled 4, is a big backpack. I wonder what Aquette needs that's so large. Another trident? I have no idea. Then there's my backpack. It's large, but not as large as Aquette's. What do I need desperately? I don't feel particularly shorthanded. Finally the brown bag marked 11, which is another large pack.

There is nobody there. Or at least no one visible to me. Are they waiting for someone to get close and attack? I'm not stupid, they're all waiting for me to get there. I'm the weakest, who still needs something, and I'll be the only one that doesn't want to take more than one.

They expect me to go first.

A huge, lumbering figure appears from the trees to the left of the clearing. It's the boy from eleven, limping out, and glancing around like a frightened deer, or a lynx on guard. I won't attack him; he's four times bigger than me, and I can see the large curved knife in his hands.

That scares me. I climb a tree to hide, thinking maybe from that distance I can see something or someone, but there's no one, except the boy from 11. This is not good. If I go there, I die, and if I don't, they take my backpacks. I don't know what to do! For now though... let's wait.

Then, faster than I can blink, a spear flies from the trees on the opposite side of the clearing, heading straight for the boy from 11. Then I watch, glad to be up my tree, as squirrel and Aquette leap out of the forest and charge straight at him.

Aquette throws her trident at the boy, but misses when he dodges. Squirrel runs up with a knife, screaming hysterically, but the boy ducks and catches her around the neck. He picks the trident up; bracing it to kill Squirrel, but Aquette takes out a knife, throws it and succeeds in opening a large smiling wound in his chest. It's like he doesn't feel the pain or even realize he has a cut.

Squirrel, still stuck in the boy's iron grasp, takes a tiny knife from her pocket, reaches back, and starts jabbing it in his face. The boy screams in pain and throws her to the ground.

I then watch, horror-struck as he holds the trident high, and plunges it into Squirrel's chest.

BOOM.

One less Career, one less tribute, one step closer to home. Squirrel's eyes are still open and glassy, and she's sprawled out in an almost inhuman way.

Well, she died in dignity, evening the moment of her death she was fighting, that was as admirable as it was creepy... She was a Squirrel. Am I making a tribute to the girl that nearly killed me on several occasions? I can't say I will miss her, but I have to admit... she was the funniest tribute of all of us. I feel awful for never learning her name. I wish I had taken the time, just once, to look.

Aquette grabs her backpack and runs. The boy from eleven, whose face was a work of grim art, thanks to Squirrel, takes the trident, his and Squirrel's backpack and runs away. He seems to realises he can't fight in Aquette his condition. I don't think he considered me as part of the attack. I'm not a threat in comparison to Aquette.

So here I am, up in a tree, looking down at two backpacks that weren't stolen just because the tributes were scared to fight. Aquette could be anywhere. She could be waiting for me.

Should I go?

THANKS FOR READING! Please review, or follow/favourite the story if you haven't already, because it means a huge deal to me 3 Love you all!

Lucy xxx