Chapter 17: The Weakest Link
There is no shaking of my shoulder, no whispered voice in my ear to pull me from slumber. My mind is its own alarm, one that's insistent on keeping me awake. It won't let me sleep more than a few minutes at a time. I roll over and look towards the clock. 4:57. I turn onto my back and shut my eyes, willing my mind to stop working. I give up eventually, instead opting to stare blankly at the ceiling. The thoughts of the arena, of Cato's words, and everything else cloud my head and my vision. I can feel a deep ache behind my eyes, and I blink back the tears that are forming. They come too easily now. Calming myself down after the conversation with Cato was difficult enough, and it just got harder to control my emotions when I had to say goodbye. It felt different than last time, the absence of the other tributes felt more keenly than the rest of my time here. Their goodbyes were final and there's every chance that mine will be too.
I swallow shakily as I try to push the thought away. Everything moves in and out of focus as I move between sleep and wakefulness. Tomorrow looms heavily as my eyes finally drift closed.
I wake again at 6:30 as the sun filters into the room. I'm on full alert, the mere thought of the arena enough to wipe any remnants of sleep from my body. This is the last time I will be here, I think to myself. This could be the last of a lot of things for me. I shift my gaze away from the window when my door creaks open to reveal my designer.
"I thought you'd be up," he says as he steps into the room.
"You thought right," I tell him as I climb out of bed. I can't bring myself to smile in greeting.
Cinna offers one, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Here." He hands me a dress that's practically the same as the one I had before the first arena.
Everything after that is the same too. The hovercraft is just as cold, time just as slow, and my stomach just as uneasy. I walk slowly down through the underground halls. It seems larger than the previous one, but that might just be because I feel smaller than before. Now I don't have any illusions about what it will be like in there. My palms are sweating when we stop in front of one of the metal doors.
The guard pulls it open, practically shoving me inside. "Wait here," he says, and then he's gone.
The door clicks shut behind him, and I turn my gaze on the room. There's a door to my left and small table in the middle with food on it. I'm not hungry, but I know that I should eat. I don't know if it will make a difference though, because my stomach is doing somersaults. I walk over anyway. I really should eat. Chances are I'd just throw it up. I pick up roll, ignoring the way my hand shakes as I raise it up to take a bite. A few minutes pass just like that, me picking away at the bread while every nerve in my body comes to life.
"Wait here," someone says from behind me.
I hadn't heard anyone open the door. I turn towards the voice. Another guard stands there holding the door open, and Cato strides in, not sparing the man a glance. He catches sight of me, but his face is impassive.
I'm angry with him, and I'm terrified of him, and of the Games. I'm afraid of what's to come. My body is thrumming, but I don't cry now. The door swings shut behind him and it's just the two of us.
"Twelve," he says by way of greeting as he walks over. He grabs an apple off the table and takes a large bite.
I hadn't expected him to apologize, hadn't even let myself feel the slightest glimmer of hope that he would, but I find that I'm mad anyway. You can't just say things like that and pretend that nothing happened. But I guess he sees no reason to apologize—if he knows how, that is—because he's not expecting me to make it past the Bloodbath. He doesn't think that what he said was wrong. Why waste his breath? I shove the thought away because it only makes me angrier, my body shaking for an entirely different reason now.
Cato takes another bite before turning towards me. "Are you ready?" he asks.
His voice isn't soft like Cinna's or caring like Peeta's. My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what he means. He's not asking because he cares about how I feel emotionally. He wants to know if I'm mentally prepared—if I'm in the arena mindset. He isn't wasting any time.
I nod my head. "Yes."
"Are you really?" he asks, his voice stern. "Can I count on you to do what needs to be done?"
Count on me. It's the first real implication of an attempt to work with me. Maybe he doesn't feel bad about what he said, but maybe he has thought better of it. Whatever the reason, I cling to the idea. I need this to work.
"I can handle it," I tell him.
He shakes his head as he looks over me. "You're practically shaking."
I don't want to him to know how I really feel. I don't want him to know how my body feels like a coil wound so tightly that it might snap any second. But I need him to understand that despite that, I'm being honest.
"I might be nervous," I concede, "but that doesn't mean that I'm not ready."
"You're going to have to be," he says. "A second of hesitation will mean the difference between life and death." His tone is sharp, but his look is somehow less hard, like he actually wants me heed his advice. "Any uncertainty will cost you. People die. They have to. That's just the way it is. You kill them and then you move on because if you don't, someone else will. The sooner you learn that, the better. Otherwise you might as well save both of us the trouble and give up now."
I nod slowly, a chill running up my spine at his words. I ignore the harshness because he's right and we both know it. Doubt, guilt, fear—they're luxuries I can't afford.
"So, I'll ask you again. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
He inspects my face and then nods. He takes another bite of the apple as the door swings open once again.
A Peacekeeper waves towards us. "Tribute Hadley, come with me. Tribute Kinross, go through that door," he says, pointing to the one on the left wall.
"See you in the arena, Twelve," Cato says before he walks past me and out the door and I'm left alone.
I have no choice but to follow the Peacekeeper's directions. They'd drag me there kicking and screaming if I didn't listen. I take a shaky breath and walk to the door. I'm not surprised by what I find when I open it. It's the launch room. The name is more appropriate than I realized, because I feel like I'm about to launch my breakfast right out of my stomach.
"Hello, Briar."
I flinch at the unexpected voice before turning to the source. "Cinna," I say with some relief as I try to command my heart to beat normally again.
"Sorry to startle you," he tells me, his voice apologetic.
"It's fine," I say. My body disagrees.
I shut the door behind me and trudge towards my designer, who's still smiling apologetically.
"Your clothes are already here." He points to a stack of fabric on the small metal table.
I gnaw at my lip and stare absentmindedly at the clothes. "How long?"
"Ten minutes," he tells me softly.
My nod is as stiff as the rest of my body, but I know it will only be a matter of time before the shaking takes over again.
Cinna picks up the clothes and passes them over to me. "Here, you should change."
I take them from him and do as he says while he continues speaking.
"I've already looked through them," he says. "The fabric is light and synthetic. Dries easily."
I pull on the pair of pants and note that he's right. They're long and tight, but I barely feel them. They're plain black and the shirt is just the same. It looks almost exactly like our training outfit.
"The boots are lightweight as well. Rubber, but flexible. Now the jacket," he says as he hands me a piece of green fabric, "it's light, but sturdy. I'd expect something wet."
I nod as I pull it on and zip it up. It takes me a couple tries with how shaky my hands have become again.
"Two minutes," a voice booms over the speaker.
Cinna reaches out and grabs my hand. I look down and see my fingers curled tightly around the string of Amelia's bracelet. I hadn't even realized I was playing with it.
"You can do this," he tells me in a soft, slow voice.
I'm reminded of his reassurances at the Tribute Parade, when he pulled my hands from the rim of the chariot. My nerves are exponentially worse now.
"I really hope you're right," I tell him, my voice just a touch hysterical.
The pain behind my eyes has returned and it's a lot harder to push it back this time. There is nothing else after this. I either win or I die.
"Twenty seconds to launch."
I jolt at the sound even though I had been expecting it.
"I can't," I say, frantically shaking my head, "I can't do this." Everything about the first arena comes rushing back to me, and it's crippling. My chest constricts, and I can't breathe. "I can't," I whisper as Cinna leads me to the tube.
"Ten seconds to launch."
"You can," Cinna tells me, his voice commanding. "Remember what I told you before the last arena?" I nod. "Good, because I still stand by them. You're strong enough to do this."
The platform starts to rise and I desperately choke out a thank you. The last thing I see of Cinna is a comforting smile. My breathing is erratic as blackness surrounds me. I will myself to calm down as I continue to rise. I cast a glance at the bracelet on my wrist before taking a few steadying breaths and squaring my shoulders.
I can see brightness above me and then suddenly it's surrounding me. I have to squint to see clearly.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the second arena of the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games begin!" booms Claudius Templesmith's voice.
Sixty seconds.
My eyes widen in horror as I take in the area. There is only a narrow stone path in front of me. It has to be at least 300 feet long. Every tribute's podium has one, and they all lead to the Cornucopia. We will all be a part of the Bloodbath today. Lucky District Two. I guess I didn't have a choice anyway.
I'm going to be sick. I wonder if anyone will step off the podium early this time.
The Cornucopia is a glittering gold mass in the center of all the tributes. I see nothing but a single weapons rack inside and a couple of backpacks littered around the area. It's enough incentive to join the fighting.
47, 46, 45, 44…
My heart sinks. We are stuck between two landmasses, one to my left and one to my right. I can hear the water rushing below me. I look down and immediately snap my head forwards again. It has to be at least 200 feet to the bottom of the canyon. It doesn't matter whether or not you can swim. Nobody could survive the drop.
39, 38, 37, 36…
My eyes trail over the Cornucopia, looking for any way to escape. There is only one path on each side. It's impossible to get away without running into another tribute. How many people are going to die in the next few minutes?
31, 30, 29, 28…
Both landmasses are covered in plants and trees that I am unfamiliar with. The warmth that surrounds me tells me that this is tropical, but the air is dry. It is beautiful just like the last arena, and it is most likely more dangerous. My stomach tightens when I catch sight of one of the remaining tributes from Four. They will be in their element.
23, 22, 21, 20…
The air is hot, and so my mind immediately goes to water. Haymitch always says to find that first. But I see no source other than the canyon below me. The slopes of the landmasses are practically non-existent. It's impossible to climb down. With the water and the Cornucopia, making camp anywhere near here is impossible.
I hear something above me. I glance quickly at the bright sky and spot large white birds. I don't hear anything else aside from my harsh breathing and my racing heart.
16, 15, 14, 13…
I look back towards the Cornucopia, my eyes landing on Cato. He looks determined and unafraid. We lock eyes for a brief moment, and he sends me a small nod. I return it and shift my gaze back towards the clock.
Adrenaline courses through me and I steady my legs below me. Follow the plan. I try to ease my nerves as I stare down my target. Breathe. I need to get there first.
I can do this. I have to do this.
I think of Mabel, and Mr. Fairbain, and Amelia, and my team. They're all rooting for me. I don't want to die. I wonder if they're proud I've made it this far.
4, 3, 2, 1.
I don't hear the gong as I leap from the podium and take off towards the center. My feet pound against the stone below me. 150 feet. I can't make out anyone on either side of me. My heart beats furiously against my ribs. 50 feet.
The mouth of the Cornucopia swallows me when I reach it. I'm the first one there. I'm frantic for a moment. I don't know what to do. Light flickers off something to my left. A weapons rack. I run for it. I know that I only have a few more seconds until the others reach me. I grab the knife vest and throw it on.
I've been here too long. I pivot to run, but something stops me. My hand reaches for something else on the display. I cast a glance over my shoulder. Once I have it, I wrap my hands around the edge of the rack and push. I hear the sound of the weapons clattering to the ground as I take off. It's only then that I realize what I grabbed.
A sword.
There are people rushing at me from all sides. I spot Cato running in my direction and I sprint towards the path nearest him. His eyes are on me for a second and I take my chance. I yell out his name and throw the sword in his direction without stopping. I pray that he got to it because I don't look back. The other tributes ignore me as I break towards the main path. Almost there. I can do this, I can get—
I hear a screech, and I'm yanked back by the hood of my jacket.
"Where do you think you're going?" a girl hisses from behind me. I don't recognize the voice.
Pain shoots down my spine as I'm slammed back against the ground. The edges of my vision are blurry. My lungs squeeze painfully and my stomach drops. I'm trapped.
No, she doesn't have a weapon. I knocked the rack over.
She presses her weight into my shoulders. "You think that trick was funny?"
My vision clears and I catch sight of red hair.
Ivory.
Anger surges through me. The only thing I see is Barden on his knees and then I snap my head forward. I don't feel anything when our heads collide and she falls back with a cry. Something wet drips down my face but I ignore it.
It only takes her a few seconds to recover. We move at the same time. Her hand collides with my cheek moments before I throw my shoulder into her body. We collapse onto the ground. I barely taste the blood filling my mouth. My body is thrumming with energy, but I don't know what I'm doing. She is much more skilled at this than I am. Haymitch was right. I should have run. She's going to kill me.
We struggle on the ground until suddenly I'm on my back and she is above me. She drives her knee into my stomach. The pain is searing, but I refuse to scream. I won't show her weakness. There is no air in my lungs to scream anyway.
"Answer me!" she yells. The blood rushing in my ears drowns it out.
Her eyes are wide. A smirk pulls at her lips. She will enjoy killing me. She reaches for a knife from my vest. Suddenly Barden is there again and something takes over me.
"Actually, I did," I tell her as I drive my fist into her side.
She howls. I wrap my legs around her waist. I'm not strong enough to flip us, but she falls to the side. It's enough room to escape. I roll away, putting a little distance between us.
She killed him, my brain keeps chanting. My heart beats faster. I grab a knife from my vest.
She comes at me again, but I'm ready this time. I narrowly move away, but my arm remains in place. The knife slides easily through her stomach. She cries out. I let go of the knife as the momentum causes her to fall. I hear her whimper from the ground. I have room to run.
She killed him.
I don't move.
She stumbles up, clutching the knife in her stomach. She steps towards me. I meet her halfway. We collide and fall to the ground. I'm beneath her, but I know that she won't put up much of a fight. I reach up and pull the knife from her stomach. She sways above me. It'll be easy now. I drive it forward again. Her eyes go blank and she collapses on top of me.
I'm frozen for a moment as she goes still. I don't hear anything other than my own breathing. Then I feel warm liquid spill onto my hand. I scramble to push her off me. The feeling of nausea is overwhelming. Her body moves easily. My senses rush back to me and I hear the sound of metal and screaming behind me. The Bloodbath continues. I look up in time to see a spear pierce the back of a boy from Eight.
"What are you doing?! Move!" I hear someone scream.
I don't know whom it's directed at, but I hurriedly pull myself up. I catch another glimpse of Ivory's lifeless body. She deserved it; she killed Barden, I tell myself. She deserved it. I risk a glance behind me as I run. Her body is still on the stone. She's dead, and for a second I feel dead too. I did that. But then someone screams and I'm pulled from the moment.
The adrenaline still courses through my veins. My blood feels hot as I sprint across the stone path and away from the Cornucopia.
I hear the sound of something hitting the ground behind me. And again. And again.
Footsteps.
I pump my legs faster beneath me. I won't be caught again. My lungs burn as I break the tree line. There are plants and trees everywhere. The branches swipe painfully at my face. "A second of hesitation will mean the difference between life and death." I don't slow down. I hear the sound of crunching behind me. I make a sharp left.
I'm not going to die. The steps are heavy. They're definitely bigger than me. No, stop it! I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die.
I veer right again, and keep running. It must only be a few minutes, but suddenly there is no sound behind me. I slow my pace, but don't stop completely. I just need to catch my breath. I pull a knife from my vest, my eyes scanning the area.
"Relax, no need to be so afraid."
Fear jolts up my spine, and my eyes widen in terror.
Mace.
I spin around quickly, poising my knife to throw. "Don't come any closer," I say.
"Ah, come on, now. You're not going to kill me," he says with a smirk.
I pull my arm back. "Watch me."
"Don't do it, Twelve."
My arm falters. Cato steps through the trees and into my line of sight, stopping a few feet ahead of Mace. Nerissa follows shortly behind him. She stops next to her partner. My mouth goes dry. A feeling of betrayal settles in my stomach and my limbs go stiff.
This isn't happening. This can't be happening.
"What's going on?" I'm silently thankful that my voice sounds steady.
"Just put the knife down," Cato says. Even from this distance I can see him roll his eyes.
"You can't be serious," I grit out.
"What? Are you going to take all three of us down? Just do what he says," Nerissa sneers.
I glance between them. It only confirms what I already know. They're a team. I should have known this would happen. I kept telling myself that it would, and yet I still failed to fully grasp it. How could I have been so stupid? Cato really does think I'm dead weight. I wonder what the deal was. He gets to team up with them if he lets them kill me? Nerissa did call me as her kill, after all.
I still have the knife clutched in my hand, and I don't plan on dropping it anytime soon. They're all armed. Nerissa holds a trident loosely at her side, but I know that if she wanted it, I'd be dead before I really had time to move. Mace holds a spear in one hand, and my eyes narrow slightly when I spot the mace on his hip. How fitting. My eyes flicker over to Cato and my stomach sinks when I see the sword in his grip. I guess he got it after all.
I don't stand a chance against the three of them. I debate my odds of survival if I make a run for it, but Cato's voice breaks through the silence that has descended upon us.
"Relax, Twelve. We aren't going to kill you," he says, his voice sounding aggravated.
Nerissa's sneer falters.
Cato takes a few steps forward. His strides are long and he's in front of me in seconds. I tighten my grip on the knife.
"What's going on?" I repeat through clenched teeth.
Mace laughs again. "Aren't you an edgy one?" he says with a smirk. "Listen to Cato. We aren't here to hurt you. You'd be dead already if we were."
It's true. They could take me out easily. The sense of betrayal gives way to confusion. Why aren't they going to kill me? I look between the three of them. It only takes me a couple of seconds to realize what's really going on, and I'm suddenly overcome with burning anger.
I lower the knife. I'm sure my face is flushed red, my shoulders shaking with barely suppressed rage.
"You can't be serious right now. An alliance? With them?" I ask incredulously, jerking my head towards the two Careers. They're staring at us, their faces twisted into amused smirks that I want nothing more than to wipe away. They enjoy seeing me riled. I don't want to give them the satisfaction, but I'm too angry to stop it. This was going to be enough trouble when it was just the two of us. Of course, I don't say that out loud because I know that there are cameras on us. This is all very entertaining, I'm sure.
Cato rolls his eyes before fixing me with a blank look. "Don't worry about it, Twelve. They won't try anything," he says, his voice taking on a tone that's not even a little reassuring. "Besides, having them around will be helpful. For the time being, anyway," he says quietly. I glance over at them. They aren't very far, but their faces show no signs of anger. They don't know what he said. I don't think it matters much, because I'm sure they know what he's thinking. I'm sure they're thinking the same thing.
I don't care about any of that though. My blood is still boiling and I narrow my eyes at him. Of course he thinks they'll be useful. He's probably still hoping one of them will kill me.
"You didn't think to mention this last night or this morning maybe?"
"No."
My jaw clenches tightly at his easy dismissal. "And why not? How could you not think this was important enough to tell me? How long have you been planning this?" I bite out.
He grabs my arm and pulls me further away from them. It takes every bit of strength I have not to stab the knife into his hand.
"I didn't say anything because I knew you'd react exactly like this," he retorts shortly when we stop.
I can tell he's done with the conversation, but I'm not letting him off this easily. I'm furious. I can't believe he'd go behind my back. Well, actually, I can. I just didn't expect that we'd be dealing with problems this early. I gave them what they wanted. I went to the Cornucopia, and what do I get for it? This.
"And how exactly should I react, Cato? Just a few days ago she wanted me dead, and I doubt that's changed. She called me as her kill." I don't say anything about Mace, even though in some ways he scares me more than Nerissa.
He's silent for moment, and I actually start to wonder if something I've said has gotten through to him, but then he shrugs and I know he doesn't care about what I think of the situation.
"That was then, the situation is different now. An alliance will get us farther in the arena," he says. "They'll only be around so long as they're useful."
Useful. The word brings back memories from the before the Games, memories of the penthouse, and arguing, and Karn and his Career-like arrogance. My eyes narrow further and my stomach turns as I think back to a couple days ago, when I was forced to kill him.
I shake my head, scowling deeper at my partner. "It's too risky. They'll turn on us in a second," I say, my voice sounding more desperate than I would like. Cato continues to stare blankly, and I suddenly have the desire to punch him in the face. "Damn it, Cato, you know alliances never pay off. Thinking like that almost got me killed in the first arena. It got my sis⎯"
I snap my mouth shut before I can finish the sentence. Cato's eyes narrow dangerously and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. You could hear a pin drop in the silence that falls over us. I won't talk about her to him. If I let myself think about her, I know I won't be able to work with him. Cato doesn't seem any more eager to continue the line of thought because he takes a step closer to me, his voice dropping slightly.
"Listen, Twelve. I don't care what happened in the first arena. I'm here to win, and I'll do whatever it takes," he says. He's too close, but I won't let myself take a step back. I'm sick and tired of being afraid of him.
We glare silently at each other before he adds, "And if memory serves, you said the same thing just this morning. Or have you changed your mind?"
He's challenging me, and I realize that this is it. I really have no choice. My only other option is to leave, and they'll kill me the second I turn my back. I've been backed into a corner. My skin prickles as I place the knife back into my vest. There's only one thing I can do. Chances are I'm going to regret this.
I place a hand on Cato's chest and push him away. He moves back easily, clearly not putting up much resistance. "No, I haven't. But if either of them"—any of you—"try something, I won't hesitate to fight back," I say, sending him one more glare over my shoulder before walking towards my new alliance members.
Off to a great start already.
Mace and Nerissa turn to fully face us as we approach.
"Is everything worked out? Or is there going to be a problem?" Nerissa asks. I see her lips twitch slightly and I know what answer she is hoping for.
"No problem," I say, sending her a false smile. I don't know why she wants me dead so badly. I didn't think people from District Four were usually this bloodthirsty. Either way, I feel a little satisfaction in seeing her deflate.
"Good to hear," Mace says, his lips twisting. "Welcome to the team."
"Right," Cato says, his voice sounding bored. "Let's get moving. We need to find a place to set up camp."
The other two nod and start walking away. I'm surprised for a second at how quickly they follow his instruction. I thought they would at least argue with him, try to take charge a little. But it's clear that Cato is the leader of this makeshift alliance, for the moment at least. They must still recognize him as the main threat.
I follow after them, but I make sure to keep some distance. I don't want to be any closer than necessary. Some part of my brain is afraid that they'll rub off on me if I get too close. It's irrational, but I let the feeling control me anyway.
I hear Cato's footsteps behind me. I'm still fuming and the crunching annoys me more than it should. His steps are impossible to miss they're so loud. I tell him as much.
"You should try to walk more quietly," I say over my shoulder. "Or you're going to alert everyone within a ten mile radius."
Cato scowls at me, but then he smirks. "Let them come, then."
The glint in his eye makes me swallow heavily and I face forward again. I don't want to run into any more tributes. I don't want to have to fight anyone else. I don't want to kill again.
I suddenly become aware of the blood smeared across my hands and my head aches from when I hit Ivory. My chest constricts. I killed her. I try to justify it to myself-One of us had to die. She attacked me first-but I wanted her dead. I had the chance to escape and I didn't take it. The moment I recognized her, I made up my mind. The thought terrifies me. It makes me feel like one of them. I feel the remorse build in my chest as I look at my hands, but then I see Amelia's bracelet. Ivory killed Barden, I remind myself, and the feeling lessens. I don't feel good. I just feel less. I hold onto to that feeling because it's the only way I'm going to make it through this.
I shiver when I think how many people my allies must have killed in the Bloodbath. The screams and the image of the spear in the boy's back are lodged in my head, and I feel sick again. But it's equal parts directed at them and myself. They killed other tributes in cold blood, but so did I. And now I'm working with them. I'm afraid to know what the people in my district think of me. They're probably disgusted by what I'm doing. They understand doing what's necessary to survive, but this might be too far, even for them.
The guilt sits heavy in my stomach, and so I try to focus on what's going on around me. I take one of the knives from my vest and walk with it gripped tightly in my hand. The last thing I need is for someone to sneak up on me. The forest is quiet, and it makes me uneasy. Not that I'd feel any better if it were loud. But still, the quiet makes me restless because every sound could be a potential threat. Being sandwiched between a bunch of Careers only makes it worse. Fear prickles underneath my skin, threatening to claw its way out. I try my best to suppress it because the impulse to run only grows the more I think about it.
Focus. I can't let them get to me. I'm not stupid enough to let my guard down completely around them, but I can't be distracted by my fear of them either. Stay focused.
I let my gaze travel over the surrounding brush. It's thick and green, and the trees tower over us. It feels oppressive because I can't see more than few feet through the thicket. It's the perfect environment for sneaking up on someone, and it will be hard to move through if I try to get away.
The bright side is that there has to be some food with this much vegetation. A jolt of relief goes through me when I spot an apple tree, but the feeling dissipates when I get a better look. Manchineel: poison. My stomach sinks when I take a closer look at our surroundings. I can't identify everything, but I can see enough to know that there is poison everywhere: oleander, castor beans, cowhage, lantana, trumpet vines, pangi… I'm suddenly glad that I focused so much on the poisonous plants and insects station in training, because I have no desire to end up like last year's female tribute from Five. I guess they really are going all out for the Quarter Quell. There are plenty of non-poison plants too, I note. I give silent thanks to the gamemakers for actually putting something in the arena that I can control.
"Why are we doing this again?"
I'm pulled from my thoughts as soon the words reach my ears. I glance up to the two people walking in front of me. Mace pushes the brush away aggressively as Nerissa's raspy voice travels back to me.
"Seriously, Mace, we'd be better off without them."
I narrow my eyes at their forms. I'm not hearing anything new, but it still makes my blood boil.
"Relax. We could use Cato's help for now. He wouldn't risk taking on the both of us," Mace replies. "And as for her… She's harmless. She won't be a threat later. We don't have to worry about her."
I huff out a breath, my grip on my knife tightening. Heat rushes to my cheeks. Everyone across Panem can hear what they're saying, and I can't do anything about it. I don't know if Cato can hear them over the sound of his stomping footsteps, but he wouldn't come to my defense anyway. I'm afraid to even let myself think about how Haymitch is reacting to this. I let myself get tricked and backed into a corner. I can't imagine he's too happy right now. Did he know about this—this alliance? I can't believe that he would have ever allowed this to happen, but that just means he was tricked, too. If that's the case… No, I just have to make myself indispensable to them. The only question is how.
"We should stop here," I hear Cato say from behind me.
I pull to a stop, as do Mace and Nerissa. I scan the area. It doesn't look like anything special, but I guess it doesn't look dangerous either. But still, I would prefer to keep moving.
"We're still close to the Cornucopia. Shouldn't we move a little further?" I ask.
"We're far enough," Cato replies shortly.
I fight the urge to send him a glare. I have to at least pretend for the sake of sponsors that I don't completely hate him. "I don't think the others have made it very far. Not in this terrain. It won't be hard for them to find us."
He raises an eyebrow in my direction, and I immediately know what the answer is. I don't know why I bothered asking after his reply to the footsteps comment. He's hoping they'll come looking.
"Besides, it'll make the hunt more fun," Mace adds, his face twisting into a smirk.
I bite down on my lip to keep from showing the disgust on my face. The Hunt. I don't know how that managed to slip my mind. The thought of participating in it makes bile rise in my throat, but it's not like I can back out. I have to at least pretend to be one of them or they'll kill me for getting in their way.
The sound of something hitting the ground pulls my attention away from my thoughts. My eyes land on Mace, whose lounging against a tree. It makes me realize how tired I am. It's hot in the arena, but it's not the oppressive heat we have back home. It's dry, but even so, I can feel the sweat dripping down my back and the thirst scratching at my throat. I collapse back against a tree, too.
Cato and Nerissa don't seem to be bothered at all by the heat of the arena. It makes sense, considering their districts. From what I remember from school, District Two is located in a desert and Four is right on the sea. They must be used to this kind of weather by now. They'll need water soon though. We all will.
I try to remember what I saw when we were walking. I don't remember seeing anything other than plants. I retrace it a couple of times to be sure, but the result is the same every time—all plants and no water. Great, now I have to worry about dehydration.
"We need to find a water source," I say.
They all stare at me for a minute. I figure it has nothing to do with the actual suggestion, because even as Careers, they aren't stupid enough to try to make it through the arena without any water. They're probably surprised I'm talking—or surprised that I have the audacity to make plans. They snap out of it a moment later.
"There's water in the canyon by the Cornucopia. We can just go there," Nerissa replies. She says it slowly, and I narrow my eyes at the implication.
Maybe the Careers are stupid.
"How exactly do you suggest we get down there?" I ask. I try to keep my tone neutral, but I don't think I do a very good job.
"Just because you aren't capable, doesn't mean the rest of us aren't," she says.
I open my mouth to reply but Cato beats me to it.
"It's too steep to climb down. There has to be another way to get water."
Nerissa huffs, but doesn't speak. I can't help the tiny smirk that makes its way onto my face. Although, I almost wish Cato hadn't told her that and just let them try. At least then they'd probably end up getting themselves killed and I wouldn't have to worry about them.
"We need to figure out a food supply," Cato says a moment later.
It's my turn to raise an eyebrow. Careers actually thinking about survival skills? I let my eyes trail over my alliance members, and my question is answered. They only have one backpack and it doesn't look particularly large. I think back to what I saw at the Cornucopia. There was nothing other than weapons inside, and there were only a couple backpacks interspersed throughout the surrounding area. I frown slightly. No visible water sources, poison everywhere, no caches of food or medicine… The climate's going to be a huge factor. This whole arena is based on survival skills. This could work to my advantage, especially since the Careers know so little about them. Maybe I'm not so disposable after all.
"You've got some skills with animals, don't you, sweets?" Mace asks.
It takes me second to realize he's talking to me. I narrow my eyes at him when I do.
"You watched the recap, didn't you? And don't call me that," I say with a scowl. He's repulsive.
His lip curls into a sneer and my scowl deepens. He turns towards Cato and Nerissa, who both look annoyed.
"She's got the food covered. What's next?"
"She doesn't have anything covered," Cato says. I turn my glare on him. "She doesn't hunt."
"I can make snares." That's more than you can do.
"Yeah, Cato. Sweets can make snares. Besides, there's food everywhere," Mace says as he plucks a bunch of red berries off a tree next to him.
My glare switches back. He's mocking me—he's mocking both of us, actually. He's trying to take control. My eyes drift to the berries in his hand. It only takes a second of inspection to know what they are. The temptation to keep the information to myself is tempting. It would solve a lot of problems for me. I don't owe Mace anything. I feel no obligation to this alliance that I wasn't a part of making. But telling him would prove that I know something that he doesn't. It would show everyone in the Capitol that I might just have a leg up right now, that I'm still in this. I let my gaze shift back to the boy from One.
"I said don't call me that. And I wouldn't eat that if I were you," I say.
Mace ignores me and brings the food closer to his lips. I shrug and say, "Fine. If you want to end up like the girl from Five last year, be my guest."
His arm drops back to his side.
"What was that?" he asks, his voice losing every ounce of the mocking tone it had. "Something you want to share?"
I can feel Cato and Nerissa's eyes on me. I force myself to be nonchalant and say, "I said I wouldn't eat those."
"And why's that?"
I can hear the impatience in his voice. He doesn't like to play the game unless he's controlling it. I send him a smile, the same one I used in the training center to show that he wasn't getting to me. "Because they're poisonous."
"How do you know?" Nerissa's incredulous voice sounds from my right.
My smile widens slightly. I don't want to get ahead of myself because this could backfire at anytime, but right now, they need me. I've just bought myself some insurance in this alliance.
"Because I remember them from training," I say. "Those are rosary peas. If you eat them, you can expect to spend the next couple of days vomiting and hallucinating while the rest of your body shuts down. Then you die," I add with another smile.
She sends me a glare. "And why should we trust what you say?"
"Because I'm the only one here who bothered to go that station. But by all means, go ahead and eat one if you don't believe me," I say, the smile never leaving my face.
Please, eat one.
My eyes flicker over to Cato for a moment, and I have no doubt that he knows exactly what I'm doing. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's staring at me intently with that same unreadable expression. I look away. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything.
Nerissa's face contorts into anger, but she doesn't reach for the fruit. Some part of her must believe me, so I figure this is the best time to drive my point home.
"The whole arena is filled with poison, actually," I say as I scan over the area before my eyes fall back on my team. I school my face into a neutral expression, but my relief is fueled by the displeasure on all of their faces. They weren't expecting this.
"Is that so?" Mace asks.
I nod. "Yup. Did you not notice?"
He looks skeptical and more than a little annoyed. "So all of these plants," he says with a vague gesture to the surrounding area, "are toxic?"
"No, not all of them. But a lot of them."
"And you're the only one who knows which ones." It's a statement, not a question, and it's the first time Cato has spoken.
I turn to face him, and this time, I'm unable to keep the full smirk from my face. "So it would seem."
Everyone is quiet for a minute as they let the information sink in. I take a moment to think about how the Capitol and the rest of Panem are reacting to the news, because I'm positive that we are on camera right now. I'm sure sponsors will be excited by it and if I have any other fans, they probably will be too. I hope that Mr. Fairbain and Mabel are watching. My odds have just gotten better.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
So now the arena has begun... What do you guys think is going to happen next?
SecretsWithSouls00: AHH, you're so sweet. I'm really glad you like my writing (: Thanks for reading!
SlyviaHunterOfArtemis: There's definitely a lot of questions up in the air when it comes to these two. You'll just have to wait and see.
Arveldis14: Phew, it's always really relieving to hear that someone likes your character. Exploring the psychological effects was part of the reason I started to write this story to begin with so that definitely plays an important part. Hopefully you'll like what's to come.
WhiteEevee: Thanks so much for this beautiful review (: I was a litter unsure of that opening, and I rewrote it about 6 times, so I'm happy it wasn't terrible lol and that it made sense lol. Briar definitely has the sass down, especially when dealing with people she doesn't like. Zella and Effie were honestly two of the most fun characters to write. They're just so over the top. She's a bit crazy for agreeing to the Cornucopia, but she's alive!... for now.
Mely-the-Mockingjay: She's hanging in there... sort of. We'll see what happens when she gets more interaction with Cato under her belt.
INeedMore24: Unfortunately, with my schedule and my thesis and all the jazz, I don't really have the time to update more often. Plus, my lovely beta reader needs time to edit so we'll be sticking to every Friday.
FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: Will Cato every stop being an ass? Probably not. I think it's engrained by now.
Thanks for the amazing round of reviews! It seriously means so much and really helps me keep going. Til next Friday!