Chapter 12- Two Brains and a Boulder

Annie's P.O.V

I didn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. I can still feel Finnick's arms wrapped around me, crushing my ability to breathe. I didn't trade with Demere over the night. I figured it would be useless. As the sun breaks over the horizon, and its rays are shattered by the branches of the trees around me, I breathe a sigh of relief. No more darkness.

Demere snores lightly from the other side of our shelter. He's going to be mad when he finds out that I haven't rested. He says that sleep is the only time when our bodies heal themselves, and I need all the healing I can get. What he doesn't know is that whenever I close my eyes, nightmares lurk in the blackness. I think of myself as a coward for not facing them, but I can't afford for them to make more weaknesses out of me.

While I have sat here the whole night, my body has been improving slightly. My shoulder has gone to a light throbbing, my ankle can move in other directions, and my ribs don't bother me at all. Demere should be happy for that, right? Today is the day I repay him. I am strong enough to move. I can walk on my own. With no action all night and for the past three days, I know we have to start moving again.

I gently nudge his shoulder, and start packing my things. His eyes slowly flutter open and he takes in his surroundings.

"It's bright outside," he says after a while.

I laugh. "That is correct. And the grass is green and the sky is blue."

"I told you to wake me up so you could sleep!"

"But I feel so much better! Really. I'm even thinking we should move camp or something."

He sighs. "Annie, don't get ahead of yourself. We are fine where we are. Come on, no one has bothered us."

I point to the sky. "The Gamemakers will make sure they do if we don't move."

"You honestly think changing the location of our camp will influence the Gamemakers? They don't care where we are. They'll target us whether we're on the edge of the Arena, or right next to the Cornucopia. They don't care."

I sigh and shrug. He's right. The Gamemakers don't care.

He smiles. "Why don't we take it slow today? We could hunt."

Hunt for what? I want to say. Should we hunt for game or should we hunt for the Game. We have to kill, right? I try to think of a Victor to this day that hasn't killed in the Arena. A name doesn't come to mind. I killed. I took a life away. I took a granddaughter, daughter, or even sister away from a family. Her blood was on my hands. I look down immediately, feeling the familiar dampness of the liquid through my fingers. Nothing.

Maybe we should go out there and hunt the weak tributes. Their cannon is just another step closer to home. Their sacrifice means a greater chance that ours isn't needed. Why should I care if the girl I killed has a weeping family now? I am a killer now. I am a tribute.

But Demere isn't. Demere is the farthest thing from a killer. I can't see him taking that sword and jamming it into somebody's chest. I can't see him looking down in pride at body he just made lifeless. I can't see it. No, he could never do that. We'll be innocent today. We'll hunt for squirrels and birds like good little tributes. We'll kill later.

I look up at Demere. "I guess we could do that."

He grins and finds his sword. "I'll let you lead."

I take my knives and stick them in the pockets of my pants. When I crawl out of the tent and stand, I hardly notice the pain in my ankle. My shoulder is another story. As the blood circulates to it, I can feel the pain more. It numbs over, which I assume is an action of the antidote.

Demere takes a knife from my pocket and hands it to me, sensing my paralyzed arm.

"Practice," he says.

I nod and take the knife. Slowly, I aim at a nearby tree trunk. Squinting an eye, I breathe in and out. Maybe I don't need my shoulder. The only thing that throws me off is my balance, but I can still aim. I'm out in the open now. Cameras are angled towards me. I am live on every television screen in Panem. I need to throw this knife.

So I do, and I hit my target.

Demere shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles. "Nothing can stop you, can it?"

I walk towards the tree and yank my knife back. I look at Demere and smile. "Annie- one. Mutt- zero."

"Hey, don't get too cocky. You have to hit an animal now."

Don't worry Demere, I think. I've already killed a moving target.

Hunting with my ally is not very easy. He constantly whispers different demands into my ear and tells me where to aim. I already know what I'm supposed to do. I don't need him to command me. I guess I'm not used to a partner. I'm not used to hunting as it is. But I don't complain, not with the two fat squirrels we're carrying.

Just another thing I owe him.

Now, as I steal a sideways glance at Demere, I can tell he's proud of what we've got. It must have been hard on him to wait on me. He couldn't hunt and get real food when I was out. Another shot of guilt runs through my veins, but I stop the feeling from advancing.

He looks at me curiously. "What? What is it?"

I look away immediately, embarrassed. "Nothing."

He smiles. "I know, my looks are dashing. You don't have to hide it."

I laugh and switch the subject. "When do you think the Gamemakers will do something?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Trust me, I'm not complaining. You know what I want to do?" He lifts up the squirrels in his hand. "I want to cook these up, eat the whole thing, one for each of us, and sleep."

I nod. "Sounds like a plan."

"How are you holding up?"

My ankle is numbed in pain, and my shoulder is completely lifeless. But I lie. "I'm doing great!" I say.

"Okay well, if you're lying, camp is only a couple minutes away."

I stay silent.

I try to hide my limp as best as I can as we near our little shelter. A feeling of unease clouds me as we get closer. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. I can't put my finger on it, but something isn't right.

It's when I see the fresh boot tracks that I grab Demere and pull him behind a thick oak.

He looks at me, eyes wide. "What?"

I put a finger over my lips and point the other to the tracks stamped in the damp dirt. He nods in understanding, puts down his pack and squirrels, and grabs his sword. I arm myself as well. Suddenly, I hear voices.

"This is really a nice little camp they got," a deep voice says.

"We need one," another responds.

"I tried, Larissa. Those damn storms ruined it," one says in exasperation. Somehow this voice seems familiar. I try desperately to search for a connection, but nothing comes. I know that voice!

"Hey, we'll get one. When we all become a nice big bunch of allies, a happy little family, they can build the shelters," a new voice pipes in.

Demere mouths a question to me, "Allies?"

I shrug, showing I know as little about this as he does. He takes a step forward, out of our clearing, but I shove him back. We need to listen more.

The girl, Larissa I suppose, responds. "If they come in peace."

"There are four of us, and two of them. They aren't stupid. They'll join," that familiar voice says back.

"Argo, Argo, Argo. Always optimistic aren't we?"

Argo! The boy from District three! That's where I know his voice from. And his District partner, Larissa! A memory comes as soon as I make the connection.

The night of the interviews, Argo's lighted suit blinding my vision as we wait in line. Their whispered voiced arguing back and forth:

"You know if we get enough of us, we will be just as strong as them, Larissa," I hear him whisper from behind me.

"There…not enough…need…more." I can only make out so much from where I stand. Larissa, the District 3 tribute I assume, responds quickly and much more quietly than does her District partner.

"We will gain more people once we get in that Arena, I promise," he's begging her now.

"Argo, you… quiet…together…one of us…victors." I give up on listening in anymore. Her quiet words are too few to make sense of now.

It all makes sense . They are trying to make an alliance to fight against the Careers. They are actually attempting it. I can't tell if this act is smart, or the most suicidal thing to do. It's a sudden flash of curiosity that makes me drops my knives and jump out of our hiding place, out in the open.

"Just say please," I say loudly.

They all turn their heads at the sound of my voice. Argo, his long brown hair falling into his olive green eyes, smiles at once. The rest of them look shocked.

Demere moves up behind me, "We like to eavesdrop."

The boy with the deep voice moves forward, addressing us. "I'm Hektor, from seven." He points to a girl with fire read hair and freckles, "That's Devi, from five."

She nods in greeting, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She's small, maybe just five feet. I wonder what she brings that is so necessary in this alliance.

Larissa speaks. "I think you know Argo and me."

I nod and so does Demere. I didn't know Demere kept note of them.

Hektor speaks again. "So you agree to our alliance, then?"

Demere looks at me expectantly. Your choice, he seems to say. But do I trust them? If we agree, there will be six of us. Yes, our compatibility will make us last longer, but what if we are subjected to turn on each other in the end? This will make it harder to win if practically half the remaining tributes are in our own alliance.

You can always kill them too, the voice slithers.

I'm not turning against an ally.

Fine. Turn soft. But you can use them too.

I look at all of them carefully. Hektor's size is massive. His black hair is cut short, so that his menacing onyx eyes can glare at you without any covering. He could intimidate Mars, or any of the Careers at that. Larissa is about my height, her sand colored hair pulled up tightly on her head. She doesn't look scary. But then again, the people from District three are consistently genius. Their exposure to advanced technology and engineering make them subjective to a more practical education. Their deadliest weapon is always with them: their brain. The same goes for Argo. Hektor has his size, Larissa and Argo have their unspoken cleverness, but what does Devi have?

Who cares? You have two brains and a boulder. What do you care about her?

What if she's hiding something? I wonder.

Then she'll be easy to dispose of.

I look at Demere, who is staring at his feet, oblivious to the turmoil in my head. Does he trust me so much, that he doesn't care about my decision? I could choose to decline the offer and then we would have a battle on our hands. Demere is putting his fate in my grasp, and he acts like it's the most logical thing to do. He must already know what decision I'm going to make. He does understand me better than I do at times. He has already figured out what I'm going to do. And if Demere has not shown any rejection to it, then it must be alright.

I clear my throat and try to sound as strong as I can. "We accept your offer."

The tension between our groups shatters. Argo's smile becomes bigger, as Larissa becomes flushed with relief. Hektor nods in agreement. This is what they wanted.

"We should probably asses our conjoined supplies, seeing what we all have together," Argo says. He looks like he could jump with joy. It's kind of adorable seeing such a skinny and big guy so excited.

Demere speaks for me. "We have some fresh meat, but I'm not sure if it's enough."

"Well, let's cook them up, and see what we can do," Larissa says. "In the meantime, can you teach us the science of this shelter? Your angles must be exact to withstand these insane weather conditions."

Demere looks at her and smiles. "No, you just kind of find two trees, a net, and some leaves, and just put them all together."

Larissa looks at Argo and puts her hands on her hips. "So you're going to invent Panem's first teleporter, but you couldn't figure out a lean-to shelter?"

Demere looks at Argo in shock, "Teleporter?"

"Yeah! It's actually really interesting…"

And at that, we are engulfed in a step-by-step description on the revolutionary technology that could lead to a teleporting machine.

I think I made the right choice.

N/A: Hey Guys! Sorry I'm so late on this one. I know I promised Thursdays, but some family stuff came up. PLEASE review! I want to know what you guys think! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Ya'll are the best!

Until next week!

-FinnickandAnnieForever