Chapter 18: Boundaries

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

The anthem fades out and I blow out a steadying breath. Ten people. Nearly half of us gone—half of the competition. I barely feel guilty about the relief that settles low in my stomach. Only 12 more people to go.

"How long are we going to wait around doing nothing?" Nerissa drawls out. "We're wasting time." She obviously wants to get started on the remaining twelve.

"We aren't wasting anything," Cato says with a roll of his eyes. "It's not even dark yet."

Right. We need to wait until it's dark so that we can sneak up on the other tributes. It will make killing them that much easier. It's not like they killed enough people in the Bloodbath.

I squint up at the orange sky. The sun is just barely beginning to set, but it's been hours since we've been in the arena. It's the opposite of the previous one, where darkness came early and lasted the majority of the day. I'm not familiar with this climate, but something tells me that sunlight lasts much longer than nighttime in here. I don't see how hunting at night makes much sense. We'll be just as blind as the other tributes and the terrain doesn't really lend itself to sneaking around. It's not like that will stop them though.

Cato sighs but doesn't reply to Nerissa. I suppress the urge to smirk at his obvious displeasure. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who doesn't like her.

"Relax, Nerissa. The fun will start soon enough," Mace says.

They all smirk at that and I have to look away.

I push myself off the ground. "I'm going to check on the snares," I say as I begin to walk away.

"I'll help," Mace says, moving to follow.

I narrow my eyes and turn back around. "I'm good, but thanks."

He's standing now, and I have to fight to stop myself from backing away. "Come on, birdy. You shouldn't be wandering around on your own. You could get hurt," he says, a leer forming and a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth

A chill runs up my spine at the thought of being alone with him. I'm equal parts annoyed though. I know what kind of game he's playing and I'm not going to back down. "I think I'll be fine."

"I'm just saying. It's dangerous out there."

I open my mouth to reply, but Cato beats me to it. "Drop it, Mace. It doesn't take two people to check snares. If she gets herself killed, that's her problem."

I shoot him a sarcastic smile. Still, I'm glad he said something. Mace looks annoyed—no doubt angry that Cato is ruining his fun—but drops back to the ground without another word. The fake smile melts from my face, and I blow out a small breath in relief as I pivot and walk away. I'm actually thankful of Cato's lack of caring for a moment. I throw a fleeting glance over my shoulder, unable to fight off the apprehension of turning my back to them.

There's almost no chance that there's anything caught in the snares, but I keep walking anyway. Thankfully there was rope in the backpack Nerissa got from the Cornucopia. Anything I can do that to make them need me more is worth it. And it's an added bonus that it gets me away from them.

By the time I reach the snare, my suspicions are confirmed—it's empty. I'm not particularly hungry, but I know that any food I can get will be helpful. I doubt it will catch anything before it gets dark, which means we'll have to start the Hunt without eating. And without water. The thought of it reminds me to how hot I am, and I shift uncomfortably at the sweat I feel dripping down my neck. It really should be a priority over the Hunt, but I know that they'll ignore me. If only I could get away long enough to find water for myself. They can die of dehydration for all I care.

But of course, I know that's not really an option. Unless I suddenly decide that I want to die… then I can fight against what they want. Until then, I just have to do what they say.

With a sigh, I head back to the others. I may not want to be around them, but I also don't trust the three of them alone together. I can't risk them planning anything behind my back. I feel anger flicker through my veins when I think back over the last few hours. This is all Cato's fault. I can't trust them when I'm with them, but I can't leave them alone either. I don't want to act like them, but if I don't, they'll kill me.

I internally grumble, my steps more like stomps. His fault.

Something snaps to my right and I freeze in place. I reach for one of the knives from my vest, trying to move as subtly as possible. I hear more rustling, but nothing appears. Slowly, I glance up. It's the birds from before, the ones from the Cornucopia. They look like pelicans with their large beaks. But I doubt it's a normal bird. I doubt anything in this arena is normal. I eye it carefully as I turn to leave. I'd rather not die from a bird attack, but I'm sure some people in the capital would love the irony.

It's still bright out despite being late.

"I'm hungry," Nerissa whines.

It's punctuated by a glare in my direction, like I'm the one to blame. Everyone ignores her.

"How are we supposed to do anything in here if we don't have anything to eat?" she continues.

I want to laugh at her. This is probably the only time in her entire life that she's been hungry. But laughing won't help anything—especially considering that I'm getting hungry as well. I'm sure we all are. I checked the snares a few minutes ago and they were still empty. If only we could just ask like Barden did.

No. Stop thinking about him.

Nerissa turns her huffing face towards Cato. "I thought you said she could hunt."

I narrow my eyes but don't respond.

He doesn't bother looking up from whatever it is that he's doing. "I never said that. In fact, I said the exact opposite."

She huffs again and mutters something that sounds like worthless under her breath.

"You're welcome to try to get your own food," I say sweetly. "I'm sure you could figure it out." I feel a surge of energy as she glares at me because I know that she can't hurt me—for now at least. I might regret my behavior in the future, but right now, I'm just glad it gets her to stop talking.

"Well, we need to eat."

Spoke too soon.

She's right though. We do need to eat and I've made myself the go to person for that.

"Yeah, sweets. We gotta eat," Mace says. "If you don't feed us soon… Well," his lips curve dangerously, "even you're starting to look like a meal."

My face is carefully blank at his statement, even though I can feel my insides twist painfully. "I thought I asked you not to call me that."

He sends me an apologetic smile that doesn't even come close to sincere. "Sorry, I get like this when I'm hungry."

I send a glance towards Cato. Unsurprisingly, he makes no move to intervene. Not that I need him too. But still, it would be nice.

"Right," I say, throwing my glance back towards Mace. "I'll get right on it."

Maybe it's paranoid of me, but I make sure that I'm far enough away that they can't see which plants I go for and which ones I ignore. I don't need them taking what little advantage I have away from me. I briefly contemplate grabbing something poisonous. It's not like they would ever know. A surge of guilt rushes through me. I can't believe I'm actually having these thoughts. I don't want to feel guilty, because I know they would kill me in a heartbeat. But I haven't lost that much of myself yet.

I scan over the area quickly, debating what to grab. If this is going to be my only advantage in the arena, I need to milk it for all its worth. But how? There aren't many options if I don't outright poison them, and I'm only helping them by bringing them food. But it's not like I could lie and say there isn't any, unless… They have no choice but to eat what I tell them. I'm the only one who knows the difference between what's poisonous and what's not.

My lips press themselves into a thin line as the idea forms. I may not be able to justify poisoning them straight out, but limiting their food supply is a different story. The more food I deem poisonous, the less supply they have when we inevitably split up. There's no guarantee it will have a big effect, but anything that will make their time in the arena more difficult is worth it.

I'm back in a matter of minutes with a few different nuts, plants, and berries, and the look they all give me is similar to Zeppina's during the first arena: blatant distaste.

"Here," I say unceremoniously.

I know it's not what they're used to, but they could at least pretend to be thankful.

"You expect us to eat this?" Nerissa says.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from glaring at her. "I don't expect you to do anything, Nerissa."

"She has a point," Mace says. "How do we know it's not poison?"

They all pin me with matching looks of suspicion.

I roll my eyes and bite into one of the shrubs. "See, no poison," I say as I swallow it down.

The weary look doesn't leave their faces—that is until Cato rolls his eyes and takes an aggressive bite out the food. Maybe I should have stuck some poison in there.

No. Even the thought of it makes me feel guilty. Not that they deserve it—my guilt. But still, there's a difference between fighting for my life when someone is attacking me and actively planning out someone's death. It'd be the smart thing to do, but…

I tamp down any thoughts of Ivory, of how I didn't have to kill her. Of how I could have gotten away. There's no point in thinking like this. As much as hate to admit it—even if it's just to myself—Cato was right. People have to die and it's either me or them.

"Are you even listening?" Cato practically growls from my left.

I snap my attention back to the group, trying to stop the heat from rushing to my face. I don't want anyone thinking I'm stupid or spacey.

"Sorry, what?"

Cato is staring at me with an intensity that makes me want to shrink away. Mace and Nerissa, on the other hand, wear matching smirks, their mouths curved and feral.

"It's time to go."

It's time to start Hunting.

No matter how softly we walk, the twigs snap beneath our feet. It doesn't help that the trees seem to be shedding their leaves at an alarming rate, leaving us more exposed than I would like. Every breeze is nearly enough to make me twitch in nervousness. The fear fights for dominance with a million other emotions, though. Anger, frustration, horror over what we're doing—they all clash uncomfortably beneath my skin. We're like a pack of wild animals, joining together for power to hunt our next meal.

But I've spent years working for a butcher, carving up the meat of animals of the same nature. Even the pack becomes the meal eventually. I shove the thought away. I have to make it through tonight before I start worrying about anything else.

Cato leads us forward through the thicket. I trail several feet behind the others. Lagging too far behind is dangerous, but the fear of Mace and Nerissa partially cancels out my fear of other tributes sneaking up on me. They walk carelessly, their weapons hanging from the their hands. I'm not fooled though. They're just as alert as I am.

We pull to a stop when the anthem begins. We're all eager to see what's left of our competition. The first face to appear is Ivory. There is a sharp tug in my chest like guilt but I ignore it just like I ignore the blood that I know remains on my jacket. I had seen their questioning gazes earlier, but no one has asked me about it, for which I'm grateful. The face of a girl from three follows. Fuse comes after that. I feel no sadness over his death; I try to pretend I don't feel a little satisfaction either. There's a girl from Five, and just like that a whole district is eliminated. One of the boys from Seven comes next—the one without the lisp. I'm glad he's out of the way. Both girls from Nine appear. Another district gone. There is a girl from Ten, and a boy and girl from Eleven, and then the anthem fades into the background as the Capital logo disappears from the sky.

Ivory is the only Career gone today, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. It's something that I think my alliance will agree with me on. For the most part, it's the most difficult competition that remains. While unsurprising, it's still incredibly frustrating. I shake my head to rid it of the useless thoughts. There are other things I need to focus on right now, like the boy from One who is currently sending me an amused look. I didn't realize that he dropped back to me. I try not shiver at his proximity.

"What?" I say, somewhat more aggressive than I mean to. I don't want him to know that he's getting under my skin.

"Just wondering how you're holding up, birdy. We've been walking for a while. Wouldn't want you to get too tired."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks for your concern, but I'm okay," I say, striding forward.

"Are you sure?" he says, taking a step closer to me. " 'Cause I could carry you if you'd like. Piggyback ride, maybe?"

I come to a halt, and I know that my face scrunches up in disgust of its own volition. My repulsion is no doubt clear to all the people of Panem. He stops, too, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Thanks for the generous offer, but I'll have to pass." I move to step forward again, but he blocks the path. He's reaching all new levels of repulsive.

He takes another step towards me, the smirk never leaving his face. "You sure, sweets?"

My fingers twitch towards one of the knives in my vest. "Positive," I say with as much finality as I can muster. I feel disgusting though. I know he's just toying with me, that he wouldn't risk anything more because that wouldn't go over well with sponsors. But the uneasiness churns in my stomach nonetheless, the desire to flee increasing with every look he sends my way.

He looks ready to speak again before a voice interrupts from behind him. Cato shoots Mace an annoyed look and says, "Stop messing around. We're wasting time," before taking off again. Mace sends me one last look before following. Cato's interruption couldn't have come at a better time. His tunnel vision might actually come in handy.

I take a deep breath and continue walking, making sure that there is plenty of space between Mace and me as my heart returns to a normal pace.

"Hey, Twelve!" I hear Nerissa call from up ahead. "Get over here."

I roll my eyes at her demanding tone but approach anyway. There's no reason to make her hate me more than she already does. Getting pushed around certainly isn't any way to win sponsors, so I don't let myself think about how I look on camera.

"What is it?" I say once I catch up.

"Are these poisonous?" she asks, pointing to a small reddish fruit on the ground beside her.

I immediately recognize it as a palm fruit. Is it poisonous? No. Should it be?

"Yes."

She looks skeptical. "What happens if you eat it?"

What should it cause? "Internal hemorrhaging," I respond.

She makes a noise of displeasure and stomps ahead. My eyebrows knit in confusion, but I don't hesitate to follow after the group. She was probably just testing me, which makes no sense considering she doesn't know if I'm right or wrong. I'm sure some of the people watching throughout Panem, probably some of the mentors too, have picked up on my lie. Not that they know it's one. For all they know, I just have no clue what I'm talking about. Hopefully it makes Mace and Nerissa look stupid for putting their trust in me.

We spend the next couple of minutes like that—Nerissa or Mace pointing to various plants and me either deeming them edible or not. I always tell the truth about the poisonous ones. I'm not quite as truthful with the edible ones though, even going so far as to make up symptoms for good measure. Cato never joins. Instead, he marches forward with a somewhat gruff expression. It's different than what I saw on the footage of the first arena. There, he seemed to be having fun, laughing along with the other Careers like the Games are some kind of joke. I must be putting him in a bad mood.

The thought makes me perk up a bit.

"Well look what we have here," Mace purrs.

Any happiness I feel vanishes in an instant. We've found our first kill. It's a boy I don't recognize. He's going through a backpack, completely unaware of our presence.

"He's mine," says Mace.

The others agree, watching as the boy from One stalks towards his prey. I have to look away. I swallow heavily when I catch the looks of satisfaction on the faces of Cato and Nerissa. This needs to be done if I want to win, I repeat to myself. It does little to make me feel better. The silence of the arena is broken by the sound of the boy's scream. My chest constricts uncomfortably with the mere thought of what's happening. I can hear Mace's heavy footsteps and the sound of a struggle.

A branch snaps and there's a gasp from somewhere to my left. I pivot on the spot, holding out my knife in front of me. The person is almost completely obscured by the brush, but I recognize the sound—I recognize her.

Zeppina.

My gaze lands on a small silver tube she's holding and then darts back to her face. We lock eyes and for a moment, neither one of us moves. Seconds pass and a cannon booms from somewhere above. She breaks eye contact and takes off.

Cato is suddenly behind me, his voice low in my ear. "What is it, Twelve?" The question is innocent, but I hear the anger underneath the calm tone.

I shake my head. "Nothing. I thought I heard something, but I was wrong."

I turn to face the boy and my heart drops. Rage colors his features, and I can't help but take a step back. His eyes are cold as they scan over me, freezing me to the spot. I was afraid of him before, but this is a whole new level of fear. This Cato looks ready to kill, and I'm the target. My pulse pounds heavily as I wait for him to move, but he just stands there.

"Did you see his face?!"

Just like that, the trance is broken. Cato sends me one more deadly glare before facing Mace. I swallow heavily and do the same.

"He barely even put up a fight," Mace says with a laugh. I try my best to focus on them and not the boy simmering in anger next to me.

Nerissa laughs. "How did he even manage to make it this far?" They laugh again and Nerissa stakes her claim for the next kill.

"Let's get moving," Cato says. I shiver at the anger in his voice. It seems to take Mace and Nerissa off guard, but they don't question him.

Ignoring Cato is impossible as we walk through the forest. He's behind me, but I don't need to turn around to know that he is glaring at the back of my head. There's the sound of Mace making suggestive comments to Nerissa, but even though they are no more than ten feet ahead, their voices sound distant to my ears. My pulse beats furiously as I try to think of something, anything, that can ease this tension. I discard everything that comes to mind though. I'm too afraid to speak, and I have a feeling Cato isn't too eager to talk to me right now.

Instead I choose to focus on the dryness of my throat. We've been here almost a full day, and still there has been no sign of water. The temperature has lessened somewhat, but it does little to ease the ache in my throat. It doesn't take long for dehydration to set in, and if this keeps up, it will soon. And when it does, I don't want to be near any of the Careers. I contemplate whether or not I should say anything. They all seem keen on continuing the Hunt, but I can't believe they'd be stupid enough to ignore the necessity of water. In reality, finding a water source is the first thing we should have done. There's no hope of winning if you don't have one. The thought decides the issue for me.

"We need to find water."

Mace and Nerissa stop and turn to face me. I still can't see Cato, but his steps are no longer audible, and so I know that he too has stopped.

"What was that, Twelve?" Nerissa asks.

"We need water. The arena is too hot. We shouldn't do anything else until we have some."

They stare at me for a second before nodding their heads. My shoulders sag in relief. They must be thirsty too.

"We should make camp first," Cato says from behind me. The anger hasn't dissipated from his voice. "We can split up. Two of us will look for water while the others rest."

Mace and Nerissa nod in agreement and I have no choice but to nod along as well.

"Nerissa and I will look first," Mace says.

I want to protest, but the words die in my throat. Cato, Mace, Nerissa—I don't want to be partnered with any of them. They're all dangerous, so in the end, it doesn't matter. At least I'll get this confrontation over with. I just hope it's not the last conversation I have. Mace and Nerissa take off, and then it's just me and Cato.

"What the hell was that, Twelve?" he growls.

I don't know what to do, so I pretend to be confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," he says, taking a step closer to me. "You think I didn't see that? That I didn't see you let your little friend escape? Why did you let her get away?"

I swallow nervously. I open my mouth, but I can't defend myself. "I…"

"What, Twelve? Spit it out." He waits a few moments for me to respond, but I can't. "She should be dead right now."

"What should I have done, Cato?" I say, my own voice taking on a note of anger.

"You should have said something the moment you saw her," he spits.

He looks angrier than before, and I force myself to put more distance between us.

Even if I wanted to attack her, I couldn't have. I was too frozen. But I don't think that reasoning will help me now. "It wouldn't have made a difference," I argue. "She would have been gone before you had the chance to do anything."

He chuckles darkly. "You think that I wouldn't have caught her? That if I had seen her like you did, that I wouldn't have killed her?" he asks, his voice low and threatening.

The answer is no. There is no doubt in my mind that he would have caught her and that she would be dead right now.

"Whose side are you on?"

And that is the root of problem. No matter how the situation played out, I wouldn't have killed her. And he knows that.

"What? No response?" he growls. "You'll have no one to blame but yourself when this comes to back bite you. You don't get to decide who dies and who doesn't."

"And you do?"

"We've been over this. If you want to live, she can't. She's not your ally anymore. If they aren't your ally, they have to die. You didn't seem to have such a problem with that at the Cornucopia," he says, his eyes traveling over me. They land back on my face and he sends me a dangerous look. "Who does it belong to?"

It's the first reference anyone has made to the blood that has stained my clothing. My blood simmers at the question. He isn't asking out of morbid curiosity like Karn had. He's asking to make a point, and I feel sick because I can't deny that he's right. I killed Ivory without a second thought, just like he would have killed Zeppina.

The silence hangs in the air a moment before he continues. "Don't let it happen again."

I swallow and force myself to say, "It won't."

"It better not. That wouldn't end well for anyone."

The threat is vague, but somehow it cuts deeper than any look or comment he's sent my way. It's not difficult to understand that he means he'll kill me if he has any other reason to doubt my loyalty. The frustration burns beneath my skin because it's so incredibly hypocritical. He has no reason to fear me and he knows it—the only one in danger of dying is me. I'm the only one who has reason to question loyalty or intentions.

The thought makes my stomach sink. We've done nothing but argue since entering the arena. There's no question over our relationship: we hate each other and everyone in all of Panem knows it. If I were a sponsor, I wouldn't support us. Instead, I'd be waiting for us to tear each other to pieces—actually, I'd be waiting for him to tear me to pieces. The knots in my stomach return full force, and I know that I need to get some space.

"I'm going to set up the snares," I say, already walking away from the area. Cato grunts but makes no other move to reply.

The arena is quiet with the exception of the squawking birds as I walk through the brush, but I make sure not to go too far. What seems to pass for nighttime here isn't completely pitch black, but it's dark enough to limit my eyesight. It's easy enough to make the snare though.

I only have to stop once when I feel something cut across my cheek. I reach my hand up to feel the warm liquid on the side of my face, a frown taking over when I look at the source. It's a small leaf from the tree above me. I look up towards the sky, my frown deepening at the sight. The leaves continue to fall slowly, but they all drift down, causing me no further harm. It's strange that the trees are molting, considering how lively the arena looked when we arrived this morning, but Effie's voice rings in my head, reminding me that this is Quarter Quell. Who knows what they have in store.

Shaking my head, I push the information to the back of my mind and head back to my angry partner.

When I get back to camp I see that Mace and Nerissa have returned. They couldn't have been gone for more than an hour. Unfortunately, they appear empty-handed.

Nerissa huffs from her spot beside Cato. "We didn't see anything. The whole place looks dry."

"There has to be water somewhere."

"Yeah, the Cornucopia," Mace replies.

"No, it has to be somewhere else too," Cato says with a shake of his head. "There's no way to get down there. It has to be more accessible, otherwise everyone will become dehydrated."

My irritation hasn't faded, but I'm glad to hear that they're thinking so seriously about our lack of water. It's going to become a real problem soon.

Nerissa huffs again and says, "Well, I'm tired, so can we worry about this in the morning?"

You'd think that being from District Four, she'd be a little more knowledgeable when it comes to water, but apparently that's wrong. I can't really argue with her though. I can feel the exhaustion creeping up on me.

"Fine. We'll settle for the night and keep looking in the morning," Cato says. "I'll take first watch." Nobody argues. The remaining three of us lay down as Cato settles against a tree.

"What happened to your face?"

I turn to see Cato staring at me expectantly. My hand drifts up to the cut on my cheek. The blood has already dried.

"Nothing," I tell him. "It was just a branch."

Silence falls around us and I know that his questioning is over, which is good because I'm both mentally and physically drained. I pull a knife from my vest and lay back, praying that sleep comes quickly. I'm in no such luck. Minutes, maybe hours, tick by and I'm no closer to sleep. My muscles remain tense and my mind refuses to calm down.

I realize that I took it for granted—how easily sleep came in the first arena. The trust I felt with Barden, even the minimal trust I felt with Zeppina, provided me with so much more comfort than I dared to acknowledge. But lying here, with three of the most deadly tributes in the arena—all three of which have probably fantasized about killing me in the last few hours—I can admit that I let myself get too comfortable before. I won't make the same mistake this time. Not that I could even if I wanted to. I can't sleep for more than a few minutes now. Not with him around. Not with any of them around. Even though my body aches with tiredness, I can't force myself to remain asleep. And I don't want to. Instead, I toss and turn, trying to feign sleep. It doesn't work.

I hear Cato grunt from somewhere to my right. I can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"What's up with you, Twelve?"

We both know the answer, but instead I say, "Nothing, I'm just not tired."

"Stop lying. Just go to sleep. It's not like I'm going to ki—"

I suck in a sharp breath and he falls silent. I'm frozen where I lay. He speaks again and all the air rushes from my lungs. "Just go to sleep."

Whether he didn't finish the sentence because he thought it was in poor taste or because he didn't think he could keep such a promise, I'll never know. I hope I never have to find out. So I don't reply. I just curl in further on myself, the grip on my knife tightening.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Wow... lots of tension. Is anyone even a little surprised?

Misssyl: So glad you like the OC's! In a fandom such as this, it can be difficult to be original, but I'm glad it's worked out so far lol. Will there be any romance? You'll have to wait and see. Keep in mind, I've already outlined a sequel so...

CranberryTruffle: Leverage, she does have. Cato and Briar certainly have an interesting relationship, but I think they've got a lot of issues to work through, if the end of this chapter didn't already make that clear.

lovewords: Phew, I was pretty nervous about this arena, cause as I mentioned before, it's pretty difficult to be original in this fandom. There are many other things in store for this arena though, so look out. Mace and Nerissa definitely have their issues, but its a lot of fun writing such mean characters lol

GreenOnBlack: She certainly feels good about having an advantage now, but with the Games, who knows how long it will last...

SecretsWithSouls00: Yay for suspense and confusion. It's always hard as a writer to tell if you're pulling it off because you obviously already know what's coming next.

FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: If only they would all eat the berries and leave poor Briar alone. Alas, that's not how Careers work. P.S. have you taken the patronus quiz on Pottermore?

SylviaHunterOfArtemis: Briar is becoming quite the sass-master.

WhiteEevee: Cato can talk sense every once in a while. It's a shame its so rare. I'm sure Briar feels the same about Ivory, but there's no time to think about it. "Scum bucket" careers...I love it.

There's more conflict to come, don't worry. So stick around!