Chapter 23 – Day 17 – 2 Tributes

Typically when I wake up in Billee's shelter, the morning sunlight peaks through the branches concealing the entrance. Today, this doesn't happen. I wonder if it's just cloudy or perhaps an act of the Gamemakers. Maybe they hid the sun or just made it less bright or something. I force myself up and climb out of the ditch only to find that it's mid afternoon and the sun is high in the sky. How have I managed to sleep for so long?

But then again how have I always waken up early.

Then I realize my faithful birds didn't chirp loud enough to wake me up this morning.

I look up to the trees and to my surprise find no birds.

The birds that woke me up every morning so far are no longer.

I slip back into the ditch and wonder what the point of eliminating the birds was until I notice that the supplies that once lined the walls of the shelter have disappeared too. Even my jacket's gone. All I'm left with are my book bag and the blanket I slept with last night.

This is when I start to worry.

I grab my things quickly and rush out of the shelter. I give it one last look and leave it forever, knowing that this may very well be my last day.

This thought is confirmed when I find that the forest is silent. No chirping, no animal sounds, no running water, nothing. I arrive at the open field where the Career house was. No rubble.

The Gamemakers have taken away everything. They're trying to kill off either Portia or me. Someone has to die soon, as the Capitol citizens must be getting bored. While I stand alone in the field, trumpets begin to sound from the sky. I'm startled but I stand my ground, quickly grabbing for a throwing knife. I'm able to unclip one while Claudius Templesmith's voice begins to start on an intercom.

"As the two remaining tributes have noticed by now, all supplies in the Games have been destroyed. Food. Water. Weapons. All except what you had already, gone. Now, I am inviting you to a feast. The feast will be held at Cornucopia in an hour and will have everything you would need to outlast your opponent. It will contain enough food to last you weeks and extra weapons as well. Good luck to both remaining tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

His voice echoes in the trees and then fades away. This feast they are inviting us to is going to be used as a way to bring us together. I try to think of ways to avoid attending. I search through my bag and lay out all the food I have remaining. I have a few shreds of dried out meat and half a cracker. My water supply is alarmingly low. I consider hunting my way through the rest of the Games but then I remember there's nothing to hunt.

My only option is the feast.

I make my way back to Cornucopia.

I easily remember where the front of the house was and walk straight away from it. I remember my path on this side of the arena was straight, since Delly and I were afraid of getting lost again. Delly. How many days has she been dead? I can't remember.

My mind begins to clutter itself with thoughts of the past. Thoughts of what's happened to me in the last two weeks. I've made allies. I've made enemies. I've been the hunter. I've been the hunted.

This mind clutter dissolves when I reach a tower of rocks that I remember once was a waterfall. Memories of Delly and I coming across this very waterfall flood my mind. It was once cold and crisp, a way for us to relax in this time of slaughter. Now it's dry. Hot from the sun beating down upon it.

I walk right across it, feeling strange to be able to make my way across the place a flowing river once was.

As I continue, the rocks around the river turn into short grass. The short grass slowly turns into tall grass. I know I'm close.

Finally, I see where the trees end abruptly. The gold of the Cornucopia sparkles in the afternoon light. There's nothing there yet. I've made it just on time.

I make my place where the tall grass and trees end, being sure to conceal myself in case Portia is waiting too.

I simply sit down. I figure once the feast appears, I won't need to be ready to run since there's the risk that Portia will be there waiting for me. There's also a good chance that if Portia goes to the feast, I can kill her with my knives from back here. Or maybe not. I'm too far from Cornucopia to tell.

As I sit for a while, I notice something uncomfortable under my butt. I feel around and notice I'm sitting on something in my back pocket. When I reach back, I realize it's the knife I stole from the District 11 girl on the first night. I put it back in my back pocket and ignore it, figuring it can come in as backup later as an extra throwing knife.

Finally, after a few minutes of sitting patiently, the ground in front of the mouth of the Cornucopia opens up. A table rises up and the ground closes again. This is it. This is the feast.

The table that rested in front of the mouth of the Cornucopia was glass. Its steel legs were thin but held up the glass tabletop just fine. Atop the table was a gorgeous white tablecloth that had a thin line of silver embroidered along its edges that sparkled in the sunlight as the cloth danced in the wind. From where I sat I could see beautifully cooked food sitting on trays next to fine china plates and polished silverware. Tall white candles stood in silver candlesticks. Golden bags filled with supplies were placed elegantly on and around the table. The Capitol tried to make this tempting, and they succeeded.

My initial thought is to wait a few seconds. If Portia truly is waiting here too, I suspect she'll run straight for it with no fear. But, after twenty seconds pass, nobody has showed up. Maybe Portia is betting on her survival. She thinks she can outlast me and all this food, but I know she's wrong.

I stand up and stick my head out of the trees just a little bit. I look left, I look right. I scan my surroundings. No sign of movement, no Portia.

The first few steps I take are small and quiet. I'm still wary of the possibility that Portia may be here. But she hasn't come out for a few minutes now, so she probably isn't coming at all. Why be late for a feast?

My small steps turn into a bounding sprint in just a few seconds. The table gets closer and closer and I can smell the meat and the vegetables and the fruit that line the table.

Just before I reach the table, my right hand finds its place on the clip of knives on my belt. There's still a ton left, so I know I can defend myself.

My sprint comes to a full stop at the edge of the table. Before I can even catch a glimpse of what the Gamemakers have left for us, my heart skips a beat at the sight of Portia when she comes out from the hidden side of the Cornucopia and stands opposite me. We just stand there watching each other intently. The tablecloth still flaps in the wind and creates a beautiful sound with the rustling leaves on the trees.

Portia smiles at me. The same cunning smile she flashed me at the Bloodbath.

Then, she flips the table over.

I have no time to react. All of the plates, bags, and candles crash on top of me.
I scream and begin to crawl on my elbows, away from the broken glass and tableware scattered around me.

But Portia is too quick for me.

She grabs my left leg and yanks me towards her. She's much stronger than I'd previously imagined. Then, she grabs my hair and tosses me to the side like a ragdoll. This is it. This is where I die. I lay there helplessly on my back, watching her shadow fall over me as she comes closer to make the kill.

And that's when I remember my knives.

I grab one from the clip and slice it at her hands, which are going for my throat. She screams and jerks her hands back. I easily kick her legs and she collapses to my side. In a quick movement, I straddle my legs over her and try to pin her down. Portia quickly regains her will and throws me to the side and rolls on top of me, beginning to pin me down in the same fashion. With momentum on my side, I roll her over once more and end up on top. Ignoring my knives, my goal becomes to choke her. I have both hands digging into her neck, and she chokes violently, spitting and gasping for air. Somehow she manages to stand up, but my chokehold remains. I have my legs straddled around her like a sort of reverse piggyback ride. She shakes around trying to pry me off but I have such a strong grip on her that I don't fall off. I keep screaming with my teeth closed shut. While I still have the advantage on her, I'm in a good amount of pain from the heavy table falling on top of me.

In a last attempt to get me off her, Portia tries a new tactic. She turns around to face the shattered glass and china from the table and falls forward, causing me to land on my back in the jagged glass fragments with her on top of me. I scream as a piece of glass enters my back. Portia wraps her hands around my neck and I begin to feel warm blood spreading across my back quickly. It's a bad wound and I start to panic. Once again, I grab a knife from my clip and swing it across her face, cutting her cheek. Her hands lift off my neck and cover her face, so I push her off my body and roll over to the opposite side. My new idea isn't to fight, but to run. My back is throbbing in pain and although my mind says to fight, my body is weakening.

I pick myself up and start to run towards the woods I came from before. The run seems much longer than it was before. I'm tripping, falling over little bumps in the dirt. About halfway to the first trees, a searing pain runs through my back again. I yell and fall to the ground instantly. My hands reach my back and I feel what I already know is an arrow, sticking straight out. Then, someone yanks the arrow out. It's Portia. She effortlessly rolls my body over and pins me down. Before I can get another knife from my clip, she yanks the entire clip off of my belt and tosses it far behind her.

I have no more hope for survival. I'm about to die.

Her wicked smile becomes plastered on her face. Tears form in my eyes and roll down the side of my head and onto my ear. Portia laughs.

"You thought you were gonna make it, didn't you?" she asks, wrapping her hands around my neck and tightening them together.

I can't breathe now. My chest tightens and I fight for air. I cough and spit and wriggle around but she has me pinned down so well. Portia leans in close and surveys my face. She laughs once more.

"All this time and you thought you would win." Her hands further constrict my throat like a snake. My gasps turn into quick squeaks.

"You wanna know how I killed Billee?" she asks. I don't want to know the answer.

"I followed him for hours. Being the idiot he was, he barely even noticed me. Then, when he started to set up camp, I came up behind him," her grip tightens more. "And I stabbed him in the back with one of my arrows." Her grip tightens again. My vision becomes spotty and I'm lightheaded. "And then I twisted the arrow back and forth and started screaming." She laughs. "He screamed for help, he screamed for his mom," she giggles. "And he screamed for you."

More tears and more wriggling around. My legs are numb and I can barely think entire thoughts. But as I wriggle in short spasms, I feel something uncomfortable in my back pocket.

The knife from the first night.

My right hand makes its way to my pocket and pulls out the knife. I take it firmly in my hand. Portia's head is still so close to mine that she doesn't even notice me.

I swing the knife up and plant it right in her eye.

Air instantly rushes into my lungs as she releases her hands. I pull the knife out and blood gushes out of her eye. I thrust her body off mine and she lies there in the grass, kicking and covering her left eye with her hands.

I shakily stand up, still recovering from almost being strangled to death.

Knife in hand, I slowly start to approach Portia. The sight of me standing above her causes Portia to crawl weakly the opposite way.

She starts to cry. Blood from her eye drips onto the cold grass.

"Please!" she cries. "Please don't kill me, please, please, please, please, please…"

Her voice trails off towards the end because she's crying so much.

I follow her closely.

"I'm begging you." She manages to say, practically whispering.

There's so much pain in her voice.

I don't care though.

I hurdle my knife into her back and she screams a very high-pitched scream.

"That one's for Billee!" I shout at her. She can only cry and scream more.

I kick her onto her back and she looks up at me, her left eye still bleeding and her right eye red and covered in tears.

"No." she begs. But then I stab her in the stomach. She let's out a blood curdling scream but I shout over her.

"THAT ONE'S FOR DELLY!" Now I start to cry. My friends and allies are gone, all at the expense of Portia.

I muster up all the strength I can. I stare at her bleeding body. She doesn't scream anymore but she cries. She's lost all the fight in her.

"And this one's for me." I let out in a reluctant and low tone.

I crouch down and stab her in the chest. She screams. I stab her again. She screams again. I stab her so many times and don't stop until I hear the final canon boom. The sound of the canon rings in my ears and I drop my knife. My hands are covered in blood.

I am a murder.

I look up around me. The sun shines in my eyes. I'm crying.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Sixty-fourth Hunger Games, Atala Copperwood! I give you—the tribute of District Five!"

A hovercraft materializes above me and a ladder drops down. I stumble to the ladder and hold on. It's electric current freezes me in place and I am lifted up.

When I'm pulled into the hovercraft, I look back one more time and see the gold Cornucopia, the broken Feast table, and Portia's mangled body. Then, the doors shut and doctors in sterile white uniforms lead me into an operating room where I'm cut out of my clothes and put under anesthesia.