Chapter Sixteen
I throw up the next morning, the nerves getting the better of me. I'm frustrated with myself that I'm having such a hard time with this, since I'm not even the one going to the arena, but I can't deny the fact that the fear and the memories of last year are still very real to me.
Once my stomach is empty, I take a warm shower and get dressed, pinning my hair back into a simple bun.
I find Finnick out in the dining area already, a cup of coffee waiting for me. I take the cup and sip it slowly. Finnick offers me some of my favorite chocolate pastries, but I shake my head.
"You okay?" He asks.
"Trying to be," I say. "Stomach's not doing too great."
Finnick nods, and we both straighten up when Thompson and Eleanor come out. Eleanor looks white as a sheet, and even Thompson looks nervous.
"You're prepared for this. You got this," Finnick says, approaching them and patting them each on their backs.
"We'll be watching you every step, and send you whatever gifts we can," I add.
After they eat a quick breakfast, we say our last goodbyes and send them off.
"We've done the best we could," Finnick says, reassuring me.
We've got about an hour until the tributes arrive at the arena and the Games will start, but I'm too nervous to do anything but go up to the mentor floor and wait. There are cameras there to interview the mentors throughout the process. The camera crew immediately goes to Finnick and Finnick laughs, putting on his showiest smile for the cameras.
"We've got a good bunch of tributes this year. Can't wait to see what the arena's like!" Finnick says. I sneak away from the cameras and sit at the very back of the room. Finnick joins me soon after, holding some toast on a plate.
"You should try to eat something," he says.
"I'm sorry to make you worry. I'm really okay," I say, accepting some toast and taking a bite. It's simple white bread with some salty butter, and it does help me feel better to have something in my stomach.
Soon enough, the tributes have arrived and we get an aerial view of the arena. It's nestled up in some mountains, parts of the mountains blown to bits and full of rubble. One side of the mountain has a large crop of trees that looks like it stretches out for miles. The cornucopia is on the highest point of the mountain—the tributes will have to hike to get back up to it once they leave.
I search for Thompson once the tributes are raised up into the arena, my eyes frantically scanning the screens. Luckily, the cameras do a close up on each person's face during the countdown and I find him. He's to the left of the cornucopia. His jaw is set and his eyes narrow in to focus on the cornucopia. Our plan was for him to meet up with the rest of the Careers at the cornucopia, pick up all the weapons and supplies he could, and then fight his way out to find a base with his allies. When the camera finds Eleanor's face, she's turning her head to scan the arena. Her plan with Finnick was to find shelter and water as soon as possible. When the camera shows Johanna Mason, she still looks terrified. Her eyes are red as if she'd been crying, and she's shaking, but there's something in her eyes. She looks determinedly at the cornucopia and I wonder what it is she's looking for. I look over at Leif, and he's got a smile on his face, so this must still be a part of their plan. Either that or he's just happy to watch another Games.
The gong goes off and the tributes all scatter so quickly it's hard to keep track of who's who. Some tributes rush to get a hold of weapons and supplies, some run off into the wilderness, and some begin fighting as soon as they can. I see that Thompson has made it to the cornucopia with his allies, all grabbing and piling on packs and weapons before the others can reach them.
I'm not prepared for the moment Thompson makes his first kill. He grabs a spear and quickly turns to face another tribute running towards him. His nostrils flare and he reaches his arm back, holding the spear before launching it forward. It lands in the girl from Five's stomach, and she crumples over, slowly bleeding to death. Even though I myself have killed someone, it's still jarring to see someone who was always so nice and easy-going suddenly turn into a killer.
I shake my head, trying to ward off the visions from my own Games, but they're too strong and I'm taken under, reliving some of the worst moments of my life. When I come to, I'm huddled over, my hands covering my eyes and I feel Finnick's hand on my back. I wipe my forehead before looking over at him. When he sees that I'm back, he smiles and turns back to the screens, gently rubbing my back.
I'm not sure what I've missed, but the next thing I see on screen is the boy from Ten slicing the throat of the boy from Eight.
"You've got to be kidding!" The tribute's mentor, Thread, shouts.
Finnick and a few of the other mentors laugh. "Better luck next time," Finnick says, shaking his head and turning back to the screen.
The cannons start going, signaling the end of the blood bath. The rest of the tributes have scattered. Thompson and his allies are scouting out an area nearby the cornucopia where they can make camp. Seven tributes total died in the blood bath. In addition to the boy from Eight and the girl from Five, both tributes from Six, and the girls from Eight, Nine, and Eleven all died.
Their mentors get up and walk toward the cameras to give their final interviews before leaving. They seem dejected, but detached. I'm pretty sure Lilia and Garner have too much morphling in their systems to fully understand what's going on. I think about the fact that although I killed one of their tributes last year, they were kind to me this week. Looking around the room at the camaraderie amongst the mentors against the screens showing the brutality of the Games, it finally clicks to me as to how the mentors can be this way. It must be something we all come to realize. Although the Capitol pins our Districts against each other year after year, it's clear that the fight isn't between us Districts, but between the Districts and the Capitol. All of us, tributes and mentors, are victims of the Capitol's violence. Without the Capitol, we'd have no fight between us. When we're allowed to mingle without the threat of a fight to the death, we can become friends. But the Capitol makes us fight every year, and every year the Capitol wins. They'll always win.
I feel dizzy with this realization, and get up to get some more food in hopes it will help me feel better. I'm approached by someone holding a camera and it startles me. I laugh, and realize I've missed the question I was asked.
The camera crew member looks annoyed, blowing upward on his aqua curls which are tied up with small tinkling bells, and asks me again. "Can you tell us about Thompson's plan in the arena? Do you feel his alliance with the tributes from One, Two, and the boy from Ten is a solid one?"
Remembering that I need to continue Thompson's appearance of confidence, I respond, "We're confident it's a good alliance. Already they have banned together to fight against the other tributes. Thompson—" I'm unable to continue speaking because behind the camera I see Thompson's headless body. I know it must be a hallucination, not real, but it scares me and I take a few steps back.
The camera crew member turns the camera off and mutters something to himself before walking away. I'm relieved to no longer be in the spot light, but I worry I might have hurt Thompson's chances at getting more sponsors. I check my communicuff and confirm that we haven't gotten any more money for gifts.
The day seems to drag on, and I can tell I'm not the only person getting restless. Some of the other mentors have stopped watching the screens all together and are now talking, eating, and laughing amongst themselves. Not much is happening as most of the tributes are getting settled.
Most of us perk up when Eleanor comes into contact with the boy tribute from District Twelve. I look over at Finnick and Haymitch, who are both sitting close to me, and wonder if they had made a deal to have an alliance between their tributes. My question is answered when Eleanor bashes the boy's head with a large rock she had been carrying. The boy collapses to the ground, clutching his head and moaning. It's not clear for a few minutes if it was a fatal blow, but the boy stills and the canon sounds.
Finnick laughs before punching his hand in the air. "Yes!" He then turns to Haymitch, who's now gulping down the drink he had been holding. Finnick claps his hand on Haymitch's back. "Sorry, Haymitch."
"Ss' okay," Haymitch responds, his words slurring together. "He was dead anyway."
A camera crew member, the same man who had tried to interview me earlier, comes toward Haymitch, but Haymitch simply shoves the camera away, swearing, and getting up to get another drink.
Finally, a voice announces that we're allowed to disband and go back to our rooms to sleep. We'll be able to watch the Games there if we wish, but our communicuffs will let us know if anything happens with our tributes.
A fight breaks out the next day in Thompson's ally group. They had camped out in a small crop of shrubs near the cornucopia. Not the most ideal spot for shelter, but the weather must be pretty warm where they're at, and they're strong enough to fight off attackers. All seems to be going well for them until the boy from Ten refuses to share the weapons he'd gathered with the rest of them. The whole fight is a blur of blades and blood, but when it's over, the boy from Ten is dead, and the rest of the tributes are bruised and bloodied.
Ronan walks over to me, looking at his communicuff before glancing back at the mentors from Two and Cashmere. "Annie, do you have enough funds to buy some bandages for our tributes?"
I look at my communicuff and scroll to see how much bandages would cost. Since it's still early in the Games, everything is relatively cheaper than it would be towards the end. "Yeah," I say, selecting the bandages.
"Okay. I have enough to send them all some food, too. They'll need their strength, especially after a fight like that," Ronan responds.
"Thanks," I say, watching him walk back to the others.
The parachutes arrive for the tributes just a minute later. They all seem excited as they watch them drop and quickly pull out the supplies, bandaging themselves up and stuffing their faces with the nutrition crackers and protein bars. I guess they trust that they'll have more sponsor gifts because they don't even try to ration out the food.
It's nice though, to see the work I've done helping Thompson directly.
The next couple of days are fairly uneventful in the arena, which is good for me as a mentor because I find myself being pulled into episodes more and more frequently as the Games are progressing. The other mentors seem to be getting used to me now, and often I see them shaking their heads or straight up ignoring me when I come out of an episode. Not Finnick, though. He's always there for me, his sea-green eyes grounding me back to reality, holding with a bottle of water or some food for me or simply just smiling. He might be the only thing keeping me as sane as I am right now.
Thompson and his allies have hunted down and killed two other tributes, but the rest of the tributes have stayed hidden and no one else has been killed. This must have been boring the Game Makers, because on the fourth day there's a major rock slide that seems to start out of nowhere.
Giant boulders mixed with smaller rocks come crashing down the side of the mountain, gaining speed as they go. It's a mess of greys and greens as the rocks tear out the trees and barrel down the mountain. There's a handful of tributes in its path and most of them scramble to get out of the way. Some, including the girl from Seven, Johanna, sustain injuries along the way. Unfortunately, Eleanor is caught in the slide while she was sleeping and she isn't quick enough getting up. She's crushed under the falling boulders and her cannon quickly follows.
I look over at Finnick. His jaw is clenched and his eyes look sad. He turns to me and gives me a grim smile. "You can do everything right, and still the Capitol…" He trails off and looks around as if to see anyone noticed.
A few of the other mentors are looking to Finnick for his reaction, but none seem to have heard him, or at least none of them acknowledge what he said.
"Tough luck, buddy," Chaff says, getting up to hand Finnick a drink.
Finnick takes the drink, a shallow cup of amber-colored liquid, and downs it in one shot, inhaling sharply as he sets the glass down on the clear table beside him.
"I'll be right back," Finnick says to me, his face looking determined.
I watch him walk over to the camera crew, already primed and ready for him, and he gives his final interview about Eleanor. His green shirt brings out the color of his eyes and the bronze of his hair, and as he speaks about Eleanor's successes in the Games before her time was cut short, there's almost no hint of grief or disappointment on his face. He plays it off as an inevitable loss in a complicated and exciting Games and urges the viewers to keep watching, even if they won't see his beautiful face any longer.
As he speaks, I realize that he's no longer needed as a mentor, and I start to worry that he'll have to leave me. Surely, he'll want to leave now that his job is done. I swallow and try to ignore the sinking feeling in my heart, telling myself I can do this, that I'm good enough, but I'm afraid of what might happen if he leaves.
Finnick settles back at my side once he's finished and the cameras are off and he gives my hand a quick squeeze. "Now at least I'll be able to help you with Thompson more," he says.
My heart lifts a little, but I feel guilty at the thought that he might be staying just to help me. "You're not going home now? You can go, I don't want you to stay on my account."
Finnick smiles, and I can see that hint of sadness behind his eyes that he's trying so hard to hide. "It's still your first time mentoring. I wouldn't leave you alone. I'm afraid you're stuck with me a little longer." He ruffles his hair with a flourish that makes me laugh.
"Just when I thought I was rid of you," I joked. "I was hoping I'd have more time to cozy up to Haymitch," I say, looking over at Haymitch, who's passed out on a couch surrounded by liquor bottles.
Finnick laughs in response. "Annie Cresta," he says simply, giving me that same strange look I've seen on his face before.
I do better at mentoring with Finnick helping me full time. He helps me negotiate sponsor gifts with the mentors from One and Two and makes sure that they listen to my ideas.
We stay up late together, watching the Games and discussing what we can do for Thompson the next day. Thompson is sent more food and a sleeping bag, as it seems the nights are getting colder for them in the arena.
It's been a week since the Games started, and the tributes seem to have gotten into a routine of things. Thompson and his allies take turns sleeping, finding food if they've run out of their sponsor food, and searching for tributes to fight. The other tributes scrounge for food and do their best to stay hidden. Johanna Mason climbs so high up into the trees each night that the cameras can't quite see her. The Games commentators, Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman, are surprised that she's stayed alive for as long as she has, considering she only scored a Three for her training score.
Leif has maintained his unbothered appearance, though I can tell as time goes on that he's getting restless with his tribute. He seems to be waiting for something with her.
Thompson and his allies hike their way through the forest, and are quickly approaching Johanna's tree, all of their weapons in tow.
They seem to freeze when they hear a noise, and it's difficult to place where the noise is coming from. It's a deep, growling bellow, followed by snapping branches. Thompson's eyes widen in shock when he sees what's coming for them—a giant brown bear, running too human-like to be anything other than a muttation. It swats at Thompson and his allies as it nears them, and the boy from Two is thrown hard against a tree, his cannon going off instantly.
Thompson and the others turn to run, but Thompson isn't quick enough. The bear mutt swats its giant paw at him, and a chunk of flesh is ripped from his back. Thompson falls forward, struggling to crawl away, and I have to look away from the screens. My eyes tear up as a cannon sounds, and I know he's been killed. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to see anything other than the exposed flesh of his back.
"Can't you see she's not ready for that yet?" Finnick says beside me, and I open my eyes to see that man with aqua curls and his camera in front of me.
"Annie, what can you say about your late tribute, Thompson? Any last remarks?" He asks.
I look around the room, and see everyone's eyes are on me. A muscle twitches in Finnick's jaw and I can tell he's trying to hold something back for the sake of the cameras. Feeling stuck, I look at the camera, my eyes full of tears, and open my mouth to speak. "Thompson—" That's all I can get out before the sobs start.
It was my job to keep him alive, and I couldn't do it. I'm worthless. I feel myself get up and I run out the door, into the elevator, and up to our room floor, unable to handle the crushing grief, guilt, and embarrassment.
Being in the room only makes things worse as the memories of Thompson, Eleanor, and even Miguel come flooding in. I'm curled up on the couch by the time Finnick comes in.
"I'm so sorry," Finnick says. He wraps his arms tightly around me, and lets me cry.
I calm down after a few minutes and pour myself and Finnick each a glass of water before drinking my own. "I'm sorry," I say.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Having a heart isn't a bad thing," Finnick says.
"I should go back down. Give a proper interview." I wipe my eyes and try to smooth my hair.
"I took care of the interview for you, but if you still want to say something you can," Finnick says, craning his neck so he can see my downturned face. "Do you want to?"
My eyes start to tear up again as I look at him. "No," I say, my voice cracking.
Finnick smiles. "Okay then. You've done your duty, and we can go home."
Relief starts to seep in, and I begin to feel a little better. Home. I wipe at my eyes again. "Did I miss anything?"
"No one else died," Finnick explains. "But that girl from Seven, Johanna—she climbed down the tree after the bear chased the others off. They left most of their weapons, and she picked up an axe. Not too soon either, because the bear made its way back to her, and she swung that axe up into its head like it was nothing more than a tree. That girl is good with an axe. That's what Leif was hiding."
I try to imagine what Finnick is explaining. "Do you think she has a chance of winning?"
"Against the rest of those Careers?" Finnick asks, stopping to think for a minute. "I didn't used to think so, but after seeing her handle the axe like that, I think she might. It was pretty impressive, actually."
I think about the way Johanna had talked about her family—she must have a family like Miguel's, full of love and happiness, and I hope she does make it so she can get back to them.
My heart still feels heavy, and I don't think I can handle being alone tonight. "Finnick—" I hesitate, embarrassed about asking him. Finnick looks at me, his eyes soft. I look down at the ground again, my eyes focusing on the colorful swirls in the rug beneath us. "Do you think you could stay with me tonight? Like when my father died?"
"Of course, Annie," I hear Finnick say beside me, and I look up at him, smiling sweetly at me. "C'mon, let's get ready for bed."
We take turns showering and then settle into the bed in Finnick's room. He slides in beside me, and I scoot closer to him, checking his face to make sure he's okay with me snuggling up against him. He smiles and reaches his arm out around me so I can rest my cheek against his chest.
"Thank you, Finnick," I say, feeling safe enough now to allow the tendrils of sleep to pull me under.
Finnick presses a kiss onto the top of my head. "Night, Annie."
Finnick and I take the train back home first thing in the morning, and we're back at Mags's house later that day. It feels almost surreal to be back. Like waking up from a nightmare that felt too real only to realize you're home safe in your bed. The trees are still full of green leaves, and the sky is a beautiful clear blue with white puffy clouds.
Mags envelops us both in a warm hug when she opens the door. When we part, she cups my face in her hands. "Good job, Annie. You did good," she says in her garbled but warm voice.
Her kindness prompts more tears to my eyes, and I fall back into her arms in another hug as I cry.
Watching the Games in the comfort of Mags's house is a different experience, away from the prying eyes of the Capitol and the judgement from the other mentors. It's much less overwhelming to watch on just one screen than to be surrounded by them on all four walls. Finnick brings us snacks and provides snarky commentary. Mags talks about the skill of the tributes when they fight. I try my best to keep it together, but still slip into episodes more than was normal before these Games.
There's only a handful of tributes left when Claudius Templesmith announces the feast—a banquet full of food and other goods for all of the tributes to come to the following morning.
We're all surprised when Johanna Mason hides out beneath the table, and greets several of the tributes with an axe to their chest.
"Leif's face has got to be insufferably smug right now," Finnick says. "Worse than mine, even." Finnick looks at Mags and me with raised eyebrows and we laugh.
"That girl knows what she's doing," Mags says.
When I focus again on the screen, I'm on the edge of my seat watching Johanna as she fights off the tributes from One and Two. Is this going to be the end? I wonder, as one, two, three cannons go off. Johanna gets her axe into the thigh of the boy from Two, but he manages to get away by elbowing her in the face.
"I'll find you!" Johanna shouts after him, spitting blood onto the ground beside the body of the girl she just killed. She wipes the blood off her face, and after leaving the area so the hovercrafts could pick up the bodies, she actually goes to the banquet table and eats some of the food from the feast. She stuffs her face with roast turkey, cooked carrots, fresh bread, and juice, and then rubs her stomach appreciatively.
"Girl's got gumption," Mags says.
Johanna gets up, grabs her axe, and makes her way in the direction of the boy from Two, following a trail of blood.
She approaches a crop of trees, and an arrow whizzes past her face. She screams a fierce battle cry and runs in the direction of the arrow, coming up to the boy from Two, who's laying on the ground next to a pile of supplies, face pale from a loss of blood. She throws the axe at the bow he holds and knocks it from his hands before quickly grabbing the axe again, raising it above her head and bringing it down into the neck of the boy. A cannon sounds, and then the voice of Claudius Templesmith rings out, "Ladies and gentleman, the winner of the seventy-first Hunger Games: Johanna Mason!" There's a roar of applause from the Capitol as Johanna stands up straight, wiping a splattering of blood from her face.
I hide out in my room the next day, unable to face the recap of the Games and see the face of the boy I failed to protect. I'm grateful that Mags and Finnick don't pressure me to come watch. They check on me a few times and bring me food, but otherwise let me rest.
I do watch the interview the next day.
Johanna is dressed in a sparkly black gown, her hair fanned out in spikes on the back of her head, and her lips colored a bloody red.
Her attitude during this interview is so different from her interview before the Games. Instead of a terrified, weepy girl, she reveals herself to be a snarky and somewhat rude girl.
"You really had us fooled with that scared little girl act, Johanna," Caesar says, his face looking mystified as he talks to Johanna.
"That's because you're all idiots," Johanna says, which makes Finnick bark with laughter. "You'll believe anything if you want to." Caesar's face looks shocked. "It took a while to convince my mentor my plan would work. I made myself as pathetic as possible so that everyone would ignore me. By ignoring me, I could let the other tributes kill each other off. So when it got to the last few and I got hold of my axe, I'd basically already won."
"You certainly planned it well," Caesar says. "Let's give Johanna Mason a big round of applause, everyone!"