Speak Not The Dead

by CragmiteBlaster

Born to greedy Capitol parents kicked out of the grand city and raised to be a medium in the biggest con throughout District 9 history, Lisbeth Trismegistus enters the 126th Hunger Games to put an end to it. For her, it's not just about survival, it's about finding out who she really is. [Victor Exchange 2023]

3. Phase III: The Tribute

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PHASE III: THE TRIBUTE

"Fear can't kill you, but…"

---

"Let the One Hundred and Twenty Sixth Hunger Games begin!" Twinkle's voice cheerfully echos for miles.

Sixty seconds is all I have to work with to study everything and come up with a workable plan.

I think I'd need ten times that much time at least.

Just as Epona had predicted, it's a desert. Though it's not like any desert I've ever read about in a book or seen on TV. Even the desert arena eleven years ago is nothing like this one.

The sand is pure black, from the sand right by the pedestals to the towering dunes. The dunes nearest us seem to have red sand at the peaks, though dunes further out don't appear to. Cacti are dotted around, all a faded green and glowing dimly.

The sky's what takes me aback for a moment. That's what the red light was - an entire sky the colour of blood! Black sand, a cloudless red sky and to top it all off the sun is a cream colour. It's not exactly scorching, but it's warm. So warm.

The cornucopia is glowing, that much is obvious. I suspect when day turns to night it'll practically be a beacon, somewhere easy for the careers to find and return to for a rest.

All around the ground between the semicircle of pedestals and the cornucopia itself are supplies of all sorts. The outer edges have lesser loot. Bottles of water - not all of which are filled - and loaves of bread, spools of wire, a lone boomerang.

It's closer to the cornucopia where all the best loot is. Racks of spears, backpacks full to bursting, cosy sleeping bags, larger thermos of water, a suit of skintight armour upon a dummy. That armour would be perfect for me.

Too perfect, I'd be dead in a minute - if that - if that was my target here.

Already twenty seconds have gone by and here I am without a plan. I need to focus.

To my nearest left is Axel - he catches me looking and gives me a thumbs up - and the next beyond him are Steam and Winnow. To my nearest right is Weed - how fortunate for me - and beyond him are Sun and Toyota. It's not the worst starting formation.

It could be better. Falcon is right beyond Toyota and even now he's staring at me. I don't give him any attention.

There. That'll do.

Just forty or so feet away from me, maybe a little under halfway to the cornucopia, is a pale peach backpack that appears decently loaded. A knife is clearly slotted into its side pocket. I could grab it and just keep running straight until I'm past the cornucopia.

After that, like Solar said, we'll meet to the left of the tail.

I wonder if I've got anyone cheering for me back home. Surely not Village or my parents… unless Rinnia is still glad I saved her life.

Blossom is from home. She'll be cheering for me.

With thoughts of my mentor watching me even now I ready myself to run.

Too bad I never learnt what a proper running stance actually is. Alas, hindsight…

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The gong rings and everyone charges forth towards the cornucopia. Clouds of dust and sand are sent up from the dozens of heavy, desperate steps all around me.

From somewhere behind me I hear Weed yelling in a breathless protest. Sun's snarl follows, as does a crack I doubt I'll ever forget.

I don't need to look back to know the obvious. Surely, Weed is dead.

By now the careers have claimed their weapons and moved out on the attack. Clamantha runs past me, ignoring me in favour of taking on Toyota, the latter girl having barely grabbed a spear. Nearby Rupee pays me no mind, even after clearly seeing me scoop up two bottles of water. I don't seem to matter when she's deemed Axel as a bigger priority. Luckily he's armed and ready to fight back.

Screams. Clashes of blades. Screams. Death. Laughter. Louder, shrill screaming. Who's dying? Who's already dead aside Weed? I only know it's not me, not yet. That backpack is mine!

My legs already burn. How am I to even reach the top of a dune? That's for me to worry about in half a minute, right now I have to survive that long.

A young scream, too young, is silenced as I finally reach the backpack. I sling it on and run past a couple of freshly severed fingers. Fuck, whose fingers?!

I don't find out. Instead, I find someone's fist right in my face. Just like last night I'm left laid out on the ground and looking up at Falcon. He's already armed himself with a short sword and a loosely clenched duffel bag.

He smirks, amused by the blood trickling from my nose.

"Don't worry," he says. "Nobody's gonna call you back. Nobody would want you back, liar!"

He raises the short sword. This is where it ends. Struck down dead by the one who at first was here to save me. Whatever happens, I won't cry. I won't beg.

An obnoxious voice shouts something about a torpedo bomber and the next thing I know Falcon is cursing and struggling.

Eyes wide and scrambling myself back, it seems I've gotten the most unlikely of rescues. Seafoam, trident at the ready, tackled Falcon while his back was turned. But his intended quick kill isn't going quickly, nor well. Falcon's fighting back and ramming his knee upwards into Seafoam's guts over and over.

Seafoam coughs up a few drops of blood and I'm already off. I won't get lucky again.

Dammit, always with the luck… as if I should be so petty as to complain about it right now.

I'm off, wheezing and moaning as my nose refuses to stop bleeding. My initial charge to the left of the cornucopia's tail is interrupted by the sight of Sturm hacking Cropper to pieces with a sword, giving him one ice cold stare all throughout.

Pivoting around so hard I almost tumble again I find I can't run very far the other direction. The pair from District 10 - already having looted choice supplies - smack Rotor down with a baton. He's left to crawl away, a rack of spears knocked over behind him.

A ways apart from them Theory, a little beaten, holds Cookie by the wrist as he leads her out towards a lower dune. There's no sign of Steam or Burnice, and Cookie herself isn't running fast. A big bag of engineering parts holds her back.

Distantly Solar is fleeing with her own equipment, her curls flopping about in the breeze. Even from here I can see the blood that mottles her hair together.

I'm about to follow them, but Macey stomps near with both her mace and face splattered with someone else's blood.

In my efforts to flee from her sight I find myself running myself right inside of the cornucopia. Easily the worst place to be - the careers and brave, or more likely foolish, tributes will be making their way forth soon.

There's weapons and gear all around me, though none could help me if anyone corners me. What do I do?

Tributes are fighting and getting closer. I might have seconds to react before Falcon finds me or, perhaps worse, a career does.

At the back wall of the cornucopia are several lockers, larger versions of the ones back at Village that the students keep their belongings in. I wonder…

I open one. It's full of knives.

I yank open a second. It's full of shelves lined with water bottles.

I pull up a third - empty! It's just my size. I hurl myself inside, closing the door behind me.

It's hard, peering out of the slats, but if it's hard for me to see out then surely nobody could see inside and know I'm here.

Distantly I see that Seafoam, wheezing on his hands and knees, survived the battle with Falcon. But Falcon is nowhere to be seen. Did he make it out, or did he die somewhere out of my sight?

Dandelion, one of her eyes dangling loose from the socket and an arm badly twisted, tries to crawl along the ground towards the pedestals. Sun, his left arm cut near the elbow, impales her through the back with his sword.

I vomit down my front and to the metal base of the locker. I'm on my knees, hiding my face against my hands. I can't bear to watch anymore. But still the fighting keeps going.

Someone runs into the cornucopia from outside. They say nothing, but don't sound winded at all. I hear whoever it is grab something, a weapon more likely than not… and they don't go anywhere. They remain so very close to my locker.

I'm half expecting them to suddenly tear open the locker and kill me… but no. They don't.

What're they doing? Who is this person? A career?

I listen carefully, trying to place their footsteps over the shouts, cries, grunts and screams still going on, but it's so hard to tell where they are.

As much as I dare, I rise. I peer through the slats. They're somewhere to the left, out of sight. But there was nothing much over there; just some crates of bananas and… wait.

Are they hiding? Are they taking cover like me… in a much more open spot? What is this person doing? They should be running!

So much for making my own escape. If they're armed then I can't leave this locker. They'd see me and attack me like anyone else.

It might even be Falcon. There's no proof that it's not.

A minute passes by. So does another. Still the tribute remains hidden from sight and slowly the fights begin to end until, at last, there's only the sounds of the careers and their cheering.

I know I heard five different cheers right then. So all of them made it then. Why should I even feel slightly surprised?

Slowly the careers inaudible chatter gets closer. Slowly, I hear their voices start making sense.

"-Not my fault they put up a fight and you guys left me alone!" Sun grunts.

"It is your fault because they're District fucking Ten," Macey replies, sneering. "They've been bloodbaths for the past five years."

"Not this year, these two know how to fight," Sun mutters.

"Yeah, they relish in it," Rupee adds from further back. "They'll be an alliance to watch out for."

"Whatever," Macey says, clearly doubting this. "You guys gather the stuff around the clearing, I'll see what we've got inside the cornucopia."

"Toss me some water?" Sturm asks. "I worked up a thirst."

"Get it yourself, lazystones," Macey replies.

So here comes Macey and a tribute is right there, surely about to die. There's no chance they'll remain unfound. Five on one, they won't stand a chance… and surely I'm gonna be next.

"Ah, excellent!" Macey says as she looks over the bounty. "This'll really-ACK!"

The tribute moves fast. It's just frantic scuffles, a splatter, a scream and heavy, quick panting for a moment.

They moved so fast that Macey had no time to react before they buried their weapon into her neck. She hits the ground. The other careers all cry out in shock.

I'm on my knees again, shaking like I'm a world away.

I hear a stomp and a bloodied gurgle. A moment passes before a second stomp and a crack follows the first.

I lose the last of my breakfast against the locker wall.

I hear Sturm crying out for Macey, Clamantha yelling something incoherent and the Ones absolutely beside themselves. The tribute hasn't said anything yet. They say nothing.

Until suddenly, they do.

"You decided this girl was good enough for your alliance. Well, I just bested her, so I want her place in your pack."

It's Button.

"What? You think we want you after you killed my friend?" Sturm hisses. "Oh, you're gonna die."

"She was stronger than you and I killed her. How much harder can you be?" Button sneers. "You don't even have a leader anymore!"

This quietens the pack, even if just for a moment.

"You were already one down. Now you're two down and it's not even been an hour. You think four's gonna be enough to face this desert? You don't even know how big it is!"

Button is seething, but I can tell there's some wavering. Some fear. He knows that the careers don't have to accept his demands.

Do they sense his fear like I do? I sink down, unable to watch what'll surely happen.

"C'mon guys, let's break him," Sturm grunts.

"...I think we should let him join," Clamantha says.

I think I'm about as surprised as Sturm to hear this. A young boy from the textiles district in the career pack? It's unheard of. But Clamantha says it makes sense, if only because they no longer have enough members for her liking.

Sun announces that, with Macey dead, he's the leader. He did, as he keenly reminds everyone, score highest alongside Macey, and as leader he'll allow it. At least this way they can keep an eye on Button and use him as a shield.

"You guys can't be serious!"

But they are, and Rupee backs Sun up. She says it could be 'interesting' having someone like Button in the pack. He's not like them, but at least he also volunteered. He's not a coward.

Sturm is overruled and Button is told he's got half an hour to get his kit together. The careers begin to move around, sorting through the bounty they have for themselves.

Button, unheard by anyone but myself, sighs in relief.

I can't do the same. He may have gotten himself into the pack, but I certainly haven't.

If they open the locker, that'll be it for me.

Can humans hear a heart beating if it's doing it hard enough? Mine feels as if it's about to explode. What if they hear it?!

"Keep it together," I whisper to myself.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

It's been three hours and they're still here, and even now they haven't opened the locker. Several of them remain shut, in fact.

The pack are too busy arguing to even think of looking through the lockers and claiming the supplies hidden inside. They've been doing so for over forty minutes so far.

I don't need to peer through the slats to know how angry they are. Their voices just make it so easy to work out. No doubt their faces are turning red.

They're all geared up and ready to go hunting - Rupee scouted the dunes right around the cornucopia, but the rest of the arena remains a mystery - but now comes the task of picking who will remain as a guard.

None of the pack is willing to leave Button alone, fearing he might just rob them and flee. In their place I would have the same concern. But if not him, who is to stay? So far nobody is willing to do so.

Rupee's idea of having someone stay back with Button to watch both him and the supplies was shot down when nobody, especially not herself, was willing to miss out on hunting.

Sun won't stay because he's the leader. Rupee won't stay because she scored a nine and doesn't deserve to be snubbed. Sturm won't stay because he's got plenty of aggression to vent over Macey's death. Clamantha won't stay because she didn't score the least kills, so why should she be punished with guard duty?

Button doesn't speak up at any point, but I get the sense that he's probably sick of their bickering. I know I am.

Eventually Sun decides to just forget all about having a guard and has all of the pack come hunting. They have the supplies to set up traps, so what's the problem?

"We'll only be gone a few hours, and next time we will leave a guard," he says.

Another hour passes as the pack moves all of the supplies inside the cornucopia itself and start setting traps around the mouth of the horn. They'll sort through everything they've not looked at yet once it's sunset, Sun says.

At last, once Rupee sets up the traps, the pack sets off, their voices heading directly away from the cornucopia's tail - so, that'd be south - and gradually out of hearing range.

I wait fifteen minutes.

They're not coming back.

At long last I open the door of the locker, slipping over right away. Left on my hands and sore knees, the reason why is all too obvious.

Macey's corpse has been left where it was. Blood has pooled around her and the floor surrounding where she crumpled over.

Her neck is far beyond just split by Button's weapon. The flesh is torn horrible and the neck has been crushed, snapped even, from his boot going through it. Her eyes are glassy and bleeding from the sockets, her jaw remains open and just as bloodied - really, it's easier to say what parts of her head aren't covered in blood than those that aren't.

"In death as she was in life - disgusting," I gag.

First thing is first, I'd best move away so the hovercraft can clear up the bodies. Once that's done I'll take a look at the supplies.

I pick up a pan and toss it forth to trigger any traps. A rope snare fires off. I grab random bits and pieces, tossing them forth to clear out any other traps in my way. Only when I've set off ten traps and my last five throws didn't trigger anything do I dare to step forwards.

Leaving the horn, my nose is hit by the smell of iron and death. It's not just Macey's body that's been left in place - all of them have been.

Some bodies don't look quite as awful as others. Weed lays close to the pedestals with his neck horribly bent, but otherwise shows no signs of wounds. Surprisingly Winnow lays dead only ten feet to my right, flat on her back and eyes shut. If not for the stab wound right over her heart, she'd almost look like she was sleeping.

Other bodies look just awful. Dandelion is as broken as I remember seeing her. Cropper barely looks like he was a person anymore. Axel appears to have had his head burst like a bloody watermelon, pieces of bone, brain and eye staining the sand near him.

I don't let myself look at the rest of the bodies. I'll find out who else is gone tonight. A hand over my eyes, I fumble my way out of the clearing until I reach a dune. I sit with my back to the cornucopia, not once turning as the hovercraft comes down to pick up the corpses.

It's a while before the final body appears to be collected, the hovercraft rising higher and higher until there's no sign it was ever here. Its engines have been silenced. All is quiet again.

There'll be no better time than now to get what I need. I have my backpack and knife of course, but I'll be needing far more than that. Especially when, peering inside the backpack, I see it only contains some rope, a few packs of fruit and a lone bottle of water.

I can do better than that. I need better than that.

It's easy to find a bigger backpack - empty, unfortunately - and fill it up with everything I think I'll need. Mostly just bottles of water and food that won't make me too thirsty. Crackers are discarded and tins of meat, fruit and so forth are brought along. Bread too, carbs will fill me up ever so nicely and best of all it seems to be fruit bread.

The knife is alright, but a belt full of knives is much better. The suit of armour is gone from the dummy, but an open chest has a pair of shoulder pads just my size.

The dunes will be hard to climb without some extra help, so I help myself to the best staff I can find. I'm no expert judge of staffs, but the one I pick - one a nice golden colour - should work as a good walking cane.

I search around for a first aid kit. I search, search and search.

I keep searching.

I find nothing.

Did… did the gamemakers not provide any first aid kits at all? Not even bandages or band-aids? Not one bottle of painkillers?

We can't even treat our wounds?

Suddenly my already sore nose feels a lot worse. The only thing that's gonna fix it, or any other wound, will be time.

At least the careers won't have any medical gear either.

Before I leave I make sure that they won't be having any water either. It's a desert and water is so, so precious. That's just common sense. Whatever I physically cannot carry is poured away into the sand.

Hmmm, I think they could do with a few less weapons too. OK, so I can't quite get rid of those anywhere as easily as their water, but I can at least hide them while I have the time.

I don't get rid of much, not when I'd better be getting a move on already, but I make sure to bury over a dozen knives into the sand around the clearing.

I get rid of a spear, point upwards, as best as I can in the sand as well. I can't use it anyway, so why should the careers?

It's illogical.

Right, where did Solar say to head again? Left. Left of the cornucopia's tail. Exactly where I saw her heading earlier.

I just hope she's not gotten too far ahead.

As I head on my way, the backpack is already straining me and my knees are already aching from moving up the dune. It's gonna be a very long day.

I'm just struggling over to the other side of the dune when the cannons begin to fire.

Eight down, sixteen left.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

There's something wrong with this sand. It doesn't seem to have any tracks in it. At first I'd think I just went the wrong way, but glancing back over my shoulder I see none of my tracks either. They vanish after only ten seconds.

I guess nobody will be tracking me.

It's just as well. Right now, out in the open on the plains between the dunes, I'm so very vulnerable. An easy kill. I can't help feeling like I'm being watched, even now, but I haven't been able to spot anyone.

Is nobody here, or am I just that bad at knowing when danger is nearby?

If danger is near, I'm almost certainly going to die. Most tributes were in an alliance this year, and several of those who didn't have one already went down at the cornucopia. If someone finds me, it's likely they'll be alone, and then what will I do? Run away? They'd catch me. Fight them? That'd probably make them laugh.

Such thoughts keep me moving, one step after the other across the black sand. The staff only helps so much. The sooner I find Solar and whoever else of the alliance remains alive the better.

I'm not sure how long I've been walking or how far I've gotten, but it's long and far enough for the sand to be a little firmer beneath my feet, cacti to become a little less sparse and some parts of the ground to appear rocky.

It's also been long and far enough for me to have gone through four bottles of water. I'm sure I'm rationing it horribly.

"Solar," I chance calling out my ally's name. "Rotor? Anyone?"

Nothing. Just a gentle breeze.

There continues to be nothing until, several minutes later, something dramatically yells 'aha' from off to my right.

It's not the voice of an ally. That's enough reason for me to start running.

"Your district partner might've given me the slip, but you won't," Seafoam cackles. "I'll make this a good one, I'll-HEY, get back here!"

Even with my headstart I know that I'm unlikely to outrun Seafoam. Whatever beating he took from Falcon, it wasn't enough to slow him down for long.

One glance back and I can see Seafoam, a trident held at the ready, is already catching up. He's halfway towards me and it won't be long now before he reaches me.

I weave left and right, moving between rocky ground and the smooth sand, but it doesn't shake him. He seems amused by my efforts to escape.

"That's it, keep it spicy! You know I love a good chase!"

I'm so tired. Lungs burning. Knees cramping. Need water again. Can't keep this up…

If running won't work then I'll have to fight, but what can I do against a trident and even a career so mediocre? Knives won't work, they're too short.

Unless I were to throw one. Surely it's worth a try. Surely one of the dozen knives in my belt is good for throwing.

I pick one at random and, right as I pass a big, glowing cactus I let it fly.

It hits the ground around five feet away from me. My momentum carries me to the ground right afterwards. Seafoam's laughter rings in my ears, never stopping.

"This is why District Nine never wins!" Seafoam laughs. "And this is why District Four wins so much! Torpedo bomber!"

He readies himself to jump and bring down the trident's prongs, but before he can leap up his foot meets the blade of the knife. It doesn't pierce him - it's only the flat of the blade - but the way it suddenly jerks around underfoot sends him off balance.

Seafoam twists as he goes down, trying to avoid landing upon his own weapon.

He dodges the prongs easily enough, only to spike his rear end on the cactus. Spikes pierce deep in there as crimson begins to stain the back of his long pants. Cream coloured as they are, it shows up so blatantly.

His howls and cries carry across the dunes. As he wriggles, writhes and swears, face flushed bright with as much agony as embarrassment whilst trying to free himself, I'm back up and stumbling away.

I've made it about fifty feet by the time Seafoam is back up, still howling. He struggles to talk but he doesn't need words to make his fury clear.

It's obvious to us both the nation is probably laughing at him and he's blaming me for it. It was my knife.

"I'll kill you!" Seafoam screeches, his voice cracking.

Footsteps, this time from behind me. My heart rate spikes and slows one second to the next. It's Rotor, moving forth with a spear in his left hand.

"Is that a fact?" Rotor asks. "Is that a statistical certainty?"

Seafoam glares between us both, but his killing intent seems to be crumbling. As I move myself behind Rotor, letting my tougher ally be the one to do the work, Seafoam gives us such a rude hand gesture.

"You haven't seen the last of me!" he says, perhaps more for the audience than for us. "I'll be back!"

He flees over a nearby dune, awkwardly hobble-running as he goes until he vanishes over the other side. If luck is real he won't come back.

But it's not, so he may.

Rotor lowers his spear, giving me an awkward smile. Though I saw him on the ground in the bloodbath it appears he hasn't suffered any real wounds. Aside from a bruise on his forehead and a small cut on his hand he appears fine.

"Glad you made it," he says. "I barely got past Clamantha."

"I barely got past Falcon," I say.

"Guess we got lucky then," Rotor says.

"...Please, don't mention luck," I plead.

Rotor drops it and suddenly all's quiet, and awkward. What do we even say when we're in the Hunger Games and our alliance, what remains of it, is scattered around the arena?

"Happy birthday to me," Rotor mutters softly to himself. That, apparently, is what we say.

"Your birthday?"

"Sixteenth. Kind of not the way I was, um, planning to spend it."

He looks grim. He looks thirsty too - did he manage to grab any water at all? It's a gamble to give away supplies, but Rotor's the best protection I have. At least until he gets thirsty.

"Happy birthday," I tell him, passing him one of my bottles of water.

"Thanks Beth," he says, raising the bottle in a weary toast.

He begins to sip from it, leading me to… wherever. Up ahead the sand and dunes give way to something else. Rocky ground and scorched, earthly plains. Far away, but just close enough to see, the ground drops out of sight to some pit or other sort of low ground.

"The girl from District Two is dead," I tell Rotor. "Button killed her."

Rotor chokes, spitting out globs of water and saliva upon the sand. He wheezes for several long moments.

"Don't waste water."

"Sorry, but how did that end up happening?" Rotor asks. "How did the leader of the pack end up dead so soon, and from the boy who scored a one? There's no precedent for it!"

"...I'll tell you on the way to… actually, where are we even going?"

"That way," he gestures ahead to the lower ground. "I'm already sick of this sand and there's less of it that way."

Sounds fair enough. I'm rather sick of it too.

If things were different we could be in a wheat field right now…

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Rotor, upon hearing my story, decides that what happened was best for all of us. With Macey dead we're all so much better off.

Though he does say that, surviving the bloodbath in the way I did, I might just be the luckiest girl who ever lived in Panem.

Nrrggghhh…

With the careers' having lost their leader and their water as well thanks to me, he figures we'll stand a great chance even with our alliance scattered and some of it already dead. Axel I already knew was dead, but one of the corpses I hadn't seen was Toyota. Rotor had been too far away to help her when Rupee had gotten atop her with a spear.

He has no idea where Solar and Pleat are, but if they remembered the plan then he's sure we'll find them soon enough. Until then, we'll bunker down and get some rest.

I follow behind mostly in silence. Rotor can talk enough for both of us anyway, quelling his own nerves by talking about facts and trends of previous Hunger Games or of talks he had with Solar and Pleat when I wasn't around.

It's clear to me I'm sort of on the edge of this alliance, but with Axel and Toyota dead, and with several other alliances going around… it's enough for now.

Rotor talks about our missing allies, bringing up stuff they told him and never told me. Solar's brothers and how they're experts at helping her stay out of - or, more accurately, ensure - trouble. Solar's Mother having always been missing a left hand and how well she's adapted to this over the years. Pleat once winning a climbing race to the top of the biggest clocktower in District 8 for the sake of a handful of change.

He doesn't tell me any stories about himself. Is it a lack of trust… is he sore from what I did at the interviews and what it led Falcon to do? Is he just not in the mood?

Soon we arrive at the drop-off to the low ground. Beyond the open desert, now we've gotten to a sort of canyon. It dips down low and there's all manner of caves around the several levels down to the rocky base far below. Rotor keeps us away from the edge, taking the gentlest trail he can find towards the lower ground.

He pauses to mark a rock with a hashtag symbol.

"Solar's idea," he explains. "To show each other where we've been."

"She never told me that."

"Maybe she thought you wouldn't know what a hashtag is?"

"I mean, she could've told me what one is. Also, I do know what one is."

It's not worth getting worked up over. I stick close to Rotor, matching his steps as he leads the way with the spear faking forwards. Several times my weary, weak body stumbles, but each time he's quick to catch me before I can come to harm.

We're maybe halfway down the canyons before he leads us into a cave he deems good enough. One full of boulders that we can easily lay behind if the need for hiding arises.

There's no if about it. It's surely a matter of when.

"Are we done?" I ask.

"We're done for now. This should be a good place to rest," Rotor says.

That's all the cue I need to close my eyes and try to get some sleep. Maybe by the time I wake up I won't be sore all over.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

By the time I wake up it's dark outside the cave. Of course, it was dark to begin with when the quarry is only a few shades lighter than the sand of the desert. But now it's much moreso.

Rotor sits in the mouth of the cave, looking skyward. As I join him I see that the sky has changed from a bright bloody red to a darker, sinister crimson. A ghostly white full moon fills the sky, joined by thousands of similarly coloured stars.

"Looks like hell doesn't it," Rotor says as I sit beside him. "Not that I'd ever believe in such a silly place."

"You'd be surprised by what people believe," I tell him.

"Like believing there are girls who can bring back the dead to talk to their families?"

Ah. There it is.

"Yes. Things like that," I say.

"Seems I was right then. It wasn't real," Rotor says, grinning.

"It seems so obvious when you say it now."

"I'd have thought it would've been obvious from the start."

"Not to my district. Not to Falcon."

We're silent for a while. Too long for me to feel comfortable with.

"I didn't know Falcon was going to do that," I whisper. "I knew he was going to react badly to the truth, but… what was I meant to say? He'd volunteered to protect me. He took the news bad enough last night, imagine if he heard it right after the reaping."

"How badly did he take it?"

"He would've beaten me to death if Blossom hadn't gotten involved."

Rotor reels back, disturbed. I just nod before looking back at the sky.

"Yep. He's gonna be hunting me down," I say. "Unless you saw him go down in the bloodbath?"

"Last I saw he was running to the east."

"So, away from here. That's good."

If Rotor is upset that Falcon sold us out he doesn't show it. Perhaps, in a way, Falcon aided in pruning the alliance, ensuring we'd not be too big to function. Those of who remain have to work together now.

Unless… Rotor is biding his time and is angry. He not dead, of course, and his wounds aren't bad, but they easily could've been. I wasn't watching him much back there; how close did he truly come to death and could it have been avoided if not for Falcon and what my interview made him do?

He appears to see how uneasy I'm getting.

"Don't worry about it. Falcon still chose to volunteer. He still chose to attack you," he says. "You never to him to do any of it."

"Didn't I? He believed in me so much because I lied so well. It feels like I did all of this."

"Well, you also took away the careers' water. I think that makes up for it. Thirsty tributes rarely win the Games."

Indeed not. Nor do those who die in the bloodbath, and as the anthem begins to play across the arena I'm about to find out exactly who else didn't make it through the first day.

The Capitol insignia is displayed skyward. After that the monochrome faces of the dead appear one by one. First up is Macey as I already knew. She's followed by Axel and then Toyota right after. Then it's Weed - even up there he still appears drugged - and Winnow. Cropper and Dandelion, both dead in horrible pain. There's one left - is it Steam? No, it's Burnice.

That's everyone who died. With one final crescendo the anthem ends.

"...Guess we should rest. We'll wait here until Solar and Pleat find us."

"Think it's likely though?" I ask.

"I think it's possible," Rotor says. "If they don't come, we'll go find them ourselves."

"In a desert we barely know? I don't think that'll work."

"Any better ideas? We can't just stay here forever either."

If only it truly were that easy. I wouldn't mind it; even after sleeping I feel tired enough that I could happily stay in this cave forever.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Thrashing is all I can think to do when I'm shaken awake. A hand covers my mouth - it's Rotor, muffling my attempts to shout.

I cease my struggles. If Rotor is waking me up and keeping me quiet, it'll be for a good reason.

Somewhere above us there's shouts, laughter and screaming. Someone begs. That same someone cries in agony.

Then there's more laughter. The screams become horribly shrill, until suddenly it's over.

Rotor looks at me, horror in his eyes, as a cannon fires. I don't even have to mimic the horror. Several tributes laughing and jeering, all sounding like near-adults? That'll be the career pack.

"Are we hiding or running?"

"We're not too far down from the top of the canyon. Better keep moving," Rotor says. "They'll be riding high from bloodlust, they won't just turn back now."

"Think we could shove them over the edge as they run past?"

"Maybe? But at best we'd get two of them and whoever of the pack is left kills us anyway. C'mon, let's go."

Rotor jogs out of the cave. I've barely gotten up to follow him when he's already ran right into someone who had been sprinting down the canyon trail.

It's Solar, and the force of Rotor running into her has her going over the side of the canyon. I'm helpless to do a thing, too far back to reach and certainly too weak to pull her up if I weren't..

Rotor asks faster than even I would've thought possible for him. He firmly grasps Solar by her wrist with both hands, almost bucking over for a moment.

The jeers overhead get louder as Solar, suspended over the side of the drop, pleads Rotor not to let go. His muscles clearly aren't just for show as he hauls her back onto solid ground, one jaw-clenched step at a time.

The moment she's able to Solar scrambles out of Rotor's hold and further down the trail.

"The careers," she hisses to us. "We've gotta move!"

"If we're quick we could lose them," Rotor says, gesturing up ahead. "Plenty of caves for us to hide in."

"They'd check them all," I tell him. "I don't know if that'd work."

"Then what else do we do?" Solar asks. "Ride out of here once our sponsors send us a helicopter or something?"

"You can't be suggested we fight them," Rotor says, lost. "I'm good, but not that good."

"No, that's foolish. I'm saying… we could lead them astray."

I take two knives from the belt I'd claimed, tossing them further down the trail.

"Let them think we dropped them."

The careers are coming. Already I hear their shouts and their loud footsteps pounding down the trail. There's no time to do anything else but retreat back into the cave and hide behind the rocks further back from the entrance.

Rotor and Solar see that there's nothing else to do and so they do the same as I. It's a few moments after they're hidden behind rocks close to mine that the careers pass by.

Rupee shouts, seeing the knives and claiming them for herself. She's off further down the trail just as expected and the rest of the careers follow after her. Their shouts are loud indeed, but even they fade away after a while as they head lower and lower.

"Alright, let's go," Solar says. "C'mon, c'mon!"

She's quickly off with Rotor right behind her. I'm left to trail behind them as best as I can. It feels like I haven't rested at all.

They've both come to a sudden stop at the end of the slope. Waiting for me are they? No. As I arrive I see that Rotor appears horrified and Solar shows only grim determination.

The hovercraft hasn't collected the body yet.

Pleat lays dead and bloodied, cuts torn all over her skinny torso. It wasn't drawn out, but it was clearly painful.

"Told you not all of us would make it," Solar mutters.

As we wander off into the desert with no real destination, I can't help but think we might have all made it. Pleat might not be laying in her own fluids if I hadn't gotten Falcon so furious that he sold out every last one of us.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

We ended up resting amidst the dunes for lack of any better options. It was far from ideal to say the least. Waking up in the morning sun I think I've already become sunburnt.

Can sunburn kill? I don't even know.

Not far away Rotor and Solar talk, though they're too far away and being too quiet for me to now what it's about. What do they have to say that they need not involve me with?

Have I outlived my usefulness already? Would they rather be a duo than a trio and steal the water I grabbed once they're done?

I keep my eyes closed. Better to not let them think I'm awake just yet.

A few minutes later they're done with whatever they were talking about. Footsteps get closer to me. I can feel my heart spiking.

If I react fast enough, maybe I could dodge the spear and… well, then what?

"Rise and shine lazy bones!" Solar says.

There's no attack. Not this time. When I open my eyes all I see is Rotor a distance away eating from a tin of fruit and Solar looking down at me with a cheeky grin.

"Sleeping in?" she asks.

"Yesterday was busy," I tell her.

"Is hiding in a locker really that tiring?"

"I also walked miles across the desert and got chased."

"By who?"

"Seafoam."

By the time I finish telling her of Seafoam's unfortunate encounter with a cactus she's struggling to breath, tears of laughter brimming her eyes. She's laughing loud enough for me to wonder if she might draw attention towards us.

She quietens herself before I can try to muffle her with my hand, but the amusement is clearly here to stay.

"I wish I could've seen that," Solar says.

"Maybe if you win you still can. They'd show it on the three hour movie of the Games," I say.

"Well, not I really can't die."

We soon settle to eat and drink. The water is OK I guess, but the food I grab out - a fruitless bread loaf - leaves so much to be desired. Normally I despise flavourless food. There are days I'd rather just not eat than force down something so bland and devoid.

Doing that in the arena is stupid, so down goes the bread whether I like it or not.

"What do we do today?" I ask.

"Walk?" Solar shrugs. "Not much else to do is there?"

"We'll be harder targets to find in over ninety percent of cases if we keep on the move," Rotor agrees. "Besides, it'll do us well to learn more about the arena."

That appears to be that then. Off we go, myself lagging behind as always. So long as I keep them in my sight I should be fine.

As I begin to work my way through my second water bottle of the day Solar and Rotor strike up conversation again.

"So, how'd the careers find you?"

"Bad luck," Solar says. "You said Beth took their water? Well, they were mad and wanted to vent it out by hunting I guess. We just happened to be the ones they saw."

"Poor Pleat," Rotor says.

"Yeah. Could've been me, but I think this," she nods to her broken arm. "Well, it made them think I was less of a threat. Imagine that, a fucked arm saving me."

"But wasn't Button with them? You'd think he'd have tried to get them to go for you."

"He didn't. Actually, he didn't say a word," Solar says.

Probably safer for Button that he said nothing. Only one can win - why compromise the spot he got for himself in the pack, especially when Sturm clearly wasn't happy to have him?

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

I have a feeling that we're going in circles, though with all dunes looking the same we might still be making progress for all I know.

Nothing much has happened today, and that's exactly what has me feeling on edge. Sure, the second day of a lot of Hunger Games isn't exactly manic. The audience is often already still left with plenty to discuss after the first day.

But still, lacking for anything to do aside walk just leaves me with more time for my mind to wander and thoughts to intrude.

I'm always a little further back from Rotor and Solar - I just can't keep pace - and they often whisper to each other. I'd normally not be quite so bothered to be left out of something or another, even back at Village that would happen. Rinnia never talked to me about her very obvious love of dolls but would happily share it with the other younger girls, for example.

But out here, knowledge is power and I feel powerless not overhearing the muttering. Maybe it's truly nothing. But maybe it's something.

In the arena, something often means trouble.

Trouble, of course, means death.

"I think this'll be a good place to settle," Rotor says.

Good. I'll drop where I stand and just lay here until my legs stop hurting. He led us to the top of a fairly large dune. From here it's easy to see for miles, even if quite a lot of what we're seeing is just more black, evil looking dunes.

Though, off to what I'm a little more than half sure is the north, I can see the highest tips of what look like pillars. Ruins? A temple? A landmark either way.

"Uh, Rotor? Everyone can see us up here," Solar says. "All they'd have to do is get within a few miles and use their eyes."

"And there's no chance they can sneak up on us. We have the higher ground, that's always been important in the Games," Rotor says.

"They might throw stuff at us," I tell him. "Spears. Knives."

"We could just move down the other sides of the dune," Rotor replies.

"Bows and arrows?" Solar ventures.

"The cornucopia didn't have any. I'm sure I saw none of those."

"I didn't either," I admit. "No such weapons like that this year."

"No medical gear either. If we take a hit, we're not gonna be able to treat it," Solar warns. "I'm not sure I like being up here."

Rotor frowns, but doesn't let much frustration show. He scoops up his spear and begins to head down the other side of the dune.

"I'll do a little scouting. You guys rest if you have to," he says.

"Yes please," I say as I kneel down.

"Shout if you get into trouble," Solar adds.

"Back at you," Rotor replies.

He wanders off, leaving Solar to chill and myself to do the opposite. It's so hot…

"Spare some water?"

I gesture to my backpack without speaking. Solar takes a bottle out and sips heartily.

Maybe I could get some more rest. Just skip a few hours with some sleep. This dune is far from a bed, but it's better than the cave last night. Softer, certainly.

"What's got you all paranoid?"

Just like that, my odds of sleeping are as dead as Pleat. I open my eyes, Solar looking down at me with her eyes alight with many emotions.

"Paranoid?" I repeat.

"Well yeah, I've not exactly missed how you keep stressing over me and Rotor leading the way and talk to each other," Solar continues.

Perhaps I could spin some story or another to throw her off the trail. If I can fool District 9 for years and even Twinkle herself, how hard can doing the same to Solar be.

"Don't bullshit me, I come from a district full of it. Everyone's a bullshitter where I'm from, and that includes me," she teases.

"You believed I was… actually, you never did believe it did you?" I note.

"Nope," Solar shrugs. "I just didn't see any reason to call the medium stuff out. Who cares, right? I was curious, but other than that…"

"Well, Falcon sure cared. That's why he sold us out after I came clean."

Solar catches on quickly. She seems understanding, or is that just an act? She's admitted she's a bullshitter, so should I be even more cautious… or was she bullshitting about being a bullshitter in the first place?

Nrrrrggghh…

"Just give it to me straight," I tell her. "How mad are you for what Falcon did?"

"Pretty pissed," Solar shrugs. "We had a good thing going on, and he fucked it up."

I gulp. Should I start reaching for a knife? No, not while she's looking down at me.

"I'm mad at him, not you," she adds. "You didn't make him do any of that shit. You just revealed a lie that was pretty crazy in the first place. Yeah, your interview was pretty good, but… I dunno, I just don't see how medium stuff is possible. Falcon's the one that decided to soy out over it."

"...Soy out?"

"Something my brothers say, forget about it. Look, we're good. Us three? We're in this together. All Rotor and I were talking about was past desert arenas and if anything of the stuff he knows about them might help us here."

"Right… OK, right," I say, trying not to sound too vulnerable.

"What happened to the rest sucked, but I'm not gonna kill you over it. I'm not stupid," Solar laughs. "Rotor and us? We're gonna make it."

Of course, that's exactly when Rotor shouts from somewhere nearby. It's not words, but a panicked yell. Solar's off at a run while I'm still trying to get up. How can I be expected to keep pace with her when I'm loaded up with this backpack?

Perhaps by stumbling and falling down the dune until I land in a heap at the bottom. Yep, that will certainly speed things up.

Solar passes me again, tearing off to where Rotor's shouts continue to sound. I follow as quick as I can.

It's not very fast.

It surely won't be fast enough.

By the time I get there the battle is over… and Rotor stands tired, but unharmed, over a dead rattlesnake with his spear spiked through its brain. A mutt, surely.

"I'm fine," Rotor assures us. "It just took me by surprise."

He yanks the spear out of the dead snake, talking of how it was starting to gargle and appeared ready to puke. He wasn't going to give it the chance to spew out… whatever contents were in there. Fire? Acid? Toxins? All are just as likely as each other.

With snakes being a potential local hazard we're once again off on our way for somewhere else to rest up for the night.

Too bad I can't remember where the ruins were from here. Too bad that we're all a bit too tired to climb back up a dune and check where they are.

Too bad Solar's words continue to dance around my mind. Just how honest with me was she being? Was she truthful, or trying to lower my guard?

Either way, it seems our alliance will hold just a bit longer.

Especially because, hours later as we lie on the sand and watch the sky, there are no faces to be shown in the anthem aside from Pleat.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

"Would've been nice if you'd told us about the ruins."

"I was kind of distracted by hearing you screaming."

We awaken and, after a breakfast I'd generously call meagre, we're off on the move again. I bought up the ruins and right away Solar and Rotor were asking me why I didn't bring them up yesterday.

I claimed that the mutt attack distracted me, but truthfully I just didn't want to have to go up another dune quite so soon.

Maybe I should've sucked it up. They're annoyed I didn't tell them this; for all we know, it could've been a good shelter. It may very well still be as such. Now we're, if anything, further away from it.

Worse still, I had to climb another huge dune anyway.

Since then we've been in a mostly uncomfortable silence, save some light griping here and there. No sign of tributes or mutts as of yet. A small mercy.

"Are we there yet?" Solar asks.

Neither Rotor nor myself give her any response other than an annoyed huff. She just grins.

"...How 'bout now?"

"You're in front, you tell us," Rotor says.

Solar just laughs.

"Rotor, is this a good idea? Sure, it may have places to hide, but if it's big enough to spot from miles away, then other tributes might've seen it. The careers might have seen it," I warn. "Are you sure this is a good plan? Staying away might be best."

"The more involved we are in the narrative, the better. Active tributes don't get targeted by the worst traps," he says.

"What about the snake?"

"It was one mutt. Barely a trap, just a quick fight to keep the viewers watching."

"OK, well, there might be a battle waiting for us at the ruins."

"There might be hidden supplies as well. In the past ten Hunger Games there've been seven instances of hidden loot at a big landmark. We'd do well to claim it."

"We have a lot of stuff."

"OK, well, what if it's water? I don't want the careers having it."

"...OK. Fine."

This is a bad idea, surely. A big area of ruins? The careers will totally find that! Of course they will, they managed to find the canyon easily enough. OK, they were led to it by chance, but they were heading towards it anyway. Even if we all fought as one, we'd stand no chance against all five members of the pack together.

There is sense to it though, as much as I wish not to admit it. We're going through water fast, especially me, and if water is up for grabs then I want it. And the more thirsty the careers are, the easier they will be to outlive, or kill, when later days arrive.

That is, if we live to those later days. We might die as soon as we reach those ruins, or sooner.

"Guys, some shit is going down, look up there!"

Overhead, a dozen or so vultures fly by, cawing so terribly loudly. Much like the snake they're surely mutts. I mean, what normal vultures have beaks like razors, white feathers all over and caw with all the volume of a foghorn?

They're not coming at us, however. They're fleeing from something else, something nasty. What else could scare off a mutt?

The wind is picking up. Clouds move in faster than is naturally possible to block off much of a sun. The wind surges. It grows.

Sandstorms, all around us. All across the desert. The gamemakers' doing of course.

The sandstorm comes at us faster than we can readily prepare for. Running does us little good when the storm seems to be coming from all sides. The best thing we can do is to endure it as best as we can until the gamemakers turn the storm off.

When will that be, though? When enough time passes, or when a cannon fires? They've done it both ways over the years enough times that predicting it is impossible. But if it's a cannon they want, then that cannon won't be for me. I won't make it easy.

"Hold together!" Rotor yells.

"With one arm?" Solar replies.

"Just let me grab your shoulder," Rotor replies.

He does so and the next moment I feel Solar taking such a firm hold of my hand. Keeping each other close we move with the wind, our steps fast and haphazard. I daren't open my eyes when there's every chance of sand piercing into my corneas. How would I win the Games blind?

I wouldn't.

We struggle against the fierce gales for a while, I can't say how long. Sometimes we begin to lose our hold only to suddenly regain it. Sometimes we manage to endure just fine and make our way several metres towards the ruins.

Or are we moving that much further away from them?

"It's getting stronger!" Rotor yells, gagging as sand is blown into his mouth.

Solar grunts something in response. I keep silent.

I'm silent no longer when the storm peaks and suddenly I've lost my hold on Solar. I'm off into the air, equipment and all, before hitting the ground and tumbling down a dune. I try getting up and turning back to where I think I started, but the winds and my refusal to open my eyes to face the sand keep me from making it back.

All my years of never having a single chore, never once exercising and always sitting around in comfort have caught up to me all in this moment. I'm nothing but a ragdoll against this storm.

Every moment I'm blown this way and that. I'm screaming so badly, but Solar and Rotor aren't. Or, rather, they're probably screaming but I'm much too far away to hear it.

It all ends when I'm forced atop a dune that feels so big underfoot, and then knocked right down to the other side. I tumble for half a minute and hit the sand hard.

As the wind eases up everything starts to fade. I can't drag myself an inch. I'm spent.

I guess Blossom was wrong. Being a female volunteer from District 9 doesn't mean victory.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

It takes a moment to realise that I'm waking up.

It takes a moment more to realise this means I'm still alive and, somehow, survived the sandstorm.

It takes barely a second after that to realise I'm tied up.

I don't struggle. I don't give anything away. I need to work out how many people are around me, if I'm tied to something and if there's any clues as to where I am.

Well, I doubt I can work out where I am in a big desert. The ground below me is sandy as a typical dune, so I guess that rules out the canyon and the ruins. OK, so nowhere that I know or where my allies were heading - perfect.

I'm laying back against something solid, a rock if I had to guess, and my hands have been bound. The pressure to my gut has to be more rope. OK, so I'm nowhere near my allies and I'm tied to a rock. Isn't that just excellent?

Oh, but it gets even better. My captors are nearby, I hear them now that my senses are properly awake again. It's only two voices and neither are those of the careers or Button. One might think this is good news.

It is, but it doesn't change that being the captive of the District 10 tributes is still terrible. Even now Stetson is chattering to Settler, all smiles and business, about using me as bait. Settler is of the same mind as her ally as she always seems to be.

Then she notes that my breathing has changed and I must be awake. How did she notice that? So alert, so attentive… I've paid Settler little mind before, but that's certainly changing now.

I don't let her catch me off guard again.

When I, knowing the game is up, open my eyes I see Stetson kneeling before me with his usual charming smile. Settler sits a short ways behind him on a rock. Upon the ground beside her is my backpack and everything else I had with me. I guess they would have to be stupid to forget to take my stuff away.

Clearly, it was too much to hope for.

There's no missing how Stetson is wearing my belt of knives, nor how my staff - useless to these two, apparently - has been snapped and discarded nearby.

"Well, well, hello there Beth," Stetson says. "One moment we're all being blown around by that storm and suddenly there's you delivered practically at our feet. What a coin-ki-dink!"

"I guess."

"Now, you might be wondering why we've tied you up to that rock and are already guessing at what we're going to do," Stetson continues. "Well, what a coin-ki-dink, we've been debating that between ourselves as well."

"It's true, we have," Settler adds, sipping from one of my water bottles.

"Now, you want to leave the area alive, right?" Stetson guesses, needlessly.

"Ideally, yes."

"Well ain't that a coin-ki-dink, us too!" Stetson laughs.

"You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means," I say.

"Say whatever you please, I'm not the one tied to a rock with no supplies," Stetson shrugs, laughing. "Gonna let me lay it all out for you?"

I nod, because that's the only choice I can make that doesn't risk either him or Settler attacking me. I can't expect help from my allies because how would they even find me? I can't expect Blossom to help because even if a sponsor arrived, these two would just take it from me.

"Give her the quick version, we have work to do," Settler says.

"Right, right," Stetson replies. "Back home in District Ten, ehhhhh, there's two sides to the law and our side has given us quite a set of skills. Amongst them is setting traps. Now, what lures people into traps?"

It's a moment before I realise he's expecting me to answer.

"Oh, that'd be desirable supplies, right?"

"Right, exactly," Stetson nods. "Back home money works well enough, or a carcass if we're on a hunt r something. But in the arena, water and food will do just fine."

"A human hostage works even better," Settler says. "Especially one people want to see alive. Well, for a little while longer."

"So, I'm bait for some traps?"

"Bait is such an ugly word."

I notice that he doesn't appear to even remotely disagree with the answer I gave, however.

Could there be some way out of this. Something I could say? Some way to get them to at least untie me for a new plan, one that won't just be me getting killed?

"...Are you sure this is going to work?" I ask.

"What, you think it won't?" Stetson asks.

"I'm unsure, honestly? It's just, doesn't some random girl tied up with supplies set near her, all out in the open, seem a little suspicious?"

"Tributes can be dumb. Remember Womble?"

"Unfortunately, yes. OK, but they might get past the traps, steal the supplies and leave me unharmed."

"Who'd do a thing like that?" Settler asks.

"Maybe the young kids?"

"They'd fall into our traps," Stetson says, confident.

"But what if they don't? And what if it's the careers? They'd just throw a spear from afar and not even go through the traps in the first place."

"Agree to disagree," he cheerfully shrugs. "Either they do that and we're a step closer to the end, or they do that and then try to get the supplies and get hurt. Whether they die or not, a career being wounded is a good thing."

"Any more objections?" Settler asks, bored.

Settler rises, moving closer. The smell of blood hits my nostrils, an odour even the Capitol's cosmetics couldn't overpower.

Or maybe she just stabbed someone in the bloodbath?

"I guess not," I say. "You seem to have thought this through."

"Sure have. I make the plans and Settler here refines them," Stetson grins. "It's what makes us a winning team."

A team… a team. Two friends who have a partnership before the arena that won't survive it, no matter what. I might not be able to turn them on each other, but perhaps I can unnerve them. Enough to have them make a mistake?

"But, you're not a winning team," I say.

"...What was that?" Settler asks.

"Well, it's less that you're not and more that you can't be," I tell her. "There's only one victor and there's two of you."

They quickly lean in, whispering so quietly I can't pick up much of what they're saying. They use a few words I've never heard before, perhaps code words you'd have to be from District 10 to understand. They come to a consensus as Stetson gets to work on trap setting while Settler approaches me.

She takes out a knife.

"That's enough talk," she says, the smell of blood reeking harder as she looms nearer. "We need to focus."

She shoves a rag into my mouth. It muffles my scream as she traces the knife across my forehead. It's shallow enough to cause no true harm, but the tell-tale trickle of blood is there.

"The blood looks good on you, Nine. You wear it well," Settler says. "Now shush, we have work to do and we wanna get it done before the anthem."

"That's right," Stetson agrees. "Wonder who bit it earlier."

"Bet it was one of the little kids," Settler says.

Someone else died? Well, I guess with the sandstorm being so powerful it's only natural. But what if it was Rotor or Solar who died?

My odds of getting free are looking worse and worse with each passing minute as Stetson and Settler work on their traps, but if one of my few remaining allies has died then I think I'll have no hope left.

I do my best to maintain a brave face as I wait for the anthem. I won't let these two or the nation see me cry. I won't show what's on the inside, though I suppose I already am with the blood trickling drop by drop off of my forehead and around my eyes.

I'm not left waiting for long. The anthem begins to play, right as Stetson steps beside me.

"Guess who died and I'll give you a bottle of water," he offers.

"Cookie," I blurt out.

"Who?"

"Girl from Three."

Only a moment later the face of the dead is shown in the sky. It's not Cookie.

It's not Solar or Rotor either.

It's Steam. The youngest volunteer ever is up there for a few precious seconds before he's gone, joining Burnice in death as District 12 joins districts 6, 7 and 11 in defeat.

That's it. There's nothing else. Stetson claims it's too bad I guessed wrong as he heads back over to Settler, not sparing me a drop of water.

I nod off to the sounds of Stetson and Settler rigging up more and more traps. Just how many are they going to end up building?

Too many. Typical that they made off from the bloodbath with so many trap building supplies.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

When I wake up it's barely dawn. The desert hasn't quite come to life. Between the black sand and the still mostly crimson sky it appears darker than it really is.

There's no sign of the Tens. Did they abandon me to hunt somewhere else, confident that I had no chance to escape? Are they hiding somewhere nearby? I don't see any obvious hiding places aside from some boulders, and even then I'm sure they'd struggle to remain hidden behind them with how tall they both are.

A little struggling and I'm reminded that I really am trapped. Whichever of them tied the knots clearly knew exactly what they were doing.

All I can do now is wait for something to happen. I could struggle day after day and not be able to loosen these ropes.

I'm not waiting long. It's only a few minutes before someone appears over the top of the nearest dune and, of course, they spot me right away.

Seafoam wastes no time in hurrying over, trident ready to fly. He's still hobbling a little after his unfortunate encounter with the cactus last time I saw him.

"A tribute all wrapped up for me to kill? Aw, bless," he says, laughing. "Best present I've ever received! Check this out Panem!"

He rears back his arm and I close my eyes, knowing the end is nigh. I can't hide my tears when I'm about to die without even having a chance to run.

But when I open my eyes to the sound of Seafoam cursing, I see that his aim is terribly off. He flubbed the throw and his trident barely went anywhere at all.

Not even a full five feet. He blushes furiously, picking it back up again as if nothing happened.

"Whatever," he mutters.

He's not made it four strides towards me before one of the traps activates. A cactus attached to a wooden splint bursts from the sand. I have to shut my eyes and look away as it spikes Seafoam right in his crotch.

His screams, ever so high pitched, carry across the dunes and suddenly - with at least a few dozen spikes in the front of his pants - he's running off back the way he came, up and over the dune with such an agonised, frantic hobbling to his steps.

Only then do I hear Stetson's hysterical laughter. When I look at the source I see nothing.

Then Stetson tosses aside a camouflage blanket he and Settler had been hiding under. He makes his way over to me, laughing all the way.

He doesn't even wash the rag before shoving it back into my mouth. The metallic taste of my own blood threatens to make me puke, but I try to resist the urge. The puke would have nowhere to go with this rag in the way.

I'm no expert, but I know enough to know it's possible to drown on vomit.

"Brilliant! Brilliant!" Stetson keeps laughing. "Did you see that guy? Ha, of course you did! Keep them coming like that and we'll give you some water, total swearsies! You're a natural."

At what, I would ask if I was able to speak.

Stetson seems to realise what I'm thinking, adding that I'm natural born bait. He heads back to the tarp and, with a wink, hides himself under it once again.

His wording was atrocious, and he's all too proud of it.

I could reveal where they're hiding - and what route Stetson used to reach me - but the way Settler holds up her knife makes clear to me this is a bad idea.

Or it would be bad, if I don't time it right and play it carefully. Much like those two, I just need to bide my time for now.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

It's not until the middle of the afternoon when someone else comes across me. It's a relief that it's not the careers, not yet. Nobody who has a spear they could easily throw at me.

Of course, seeing Falcon for the first time since the bloodbath where he came so, so close to killing me is far from being an improvement.

"Lisbeth?" he says, for a moment confused by what he's seeing.

I hold his gaze. He sees the rag, he knows I cannot respond. Not to talk, not to warn him about the Tens - nothing.

"You're right where you deserve to be, liar," he says, taking his short sword from his belt. "Tied up and trapped!"

He starts to step forwards, coming to a stop shortly before where I know a trap is buried.

"Only trouble is… you're still alive," he says, gripping his weapon so tightly his knuckles turn a ghostly white. "I'll be happy to-SHIT!"

A knife on a wooden shard spikes upwards, barely missing him. He remains frozen for a moment, looking between me and the trap.

He then looks at the supplies laid beside me. He looks around, failing to spot the Tens.

"So, part of someone's trap? I guess they could kill you…" he thinks this over for several long moments. "...No. You're mine."

He moves slow and steady, using the short sword to test if the ground ahead of him is trapped.

By purest luck - for him, it's awful luck for me! - he only ends up springing two traps that fail to hit him and near-perfectly follows the route Stetson took to reach me.

He stands over me, ignoring the supplies. It's like nothing else matters to him but staring at my bruised and still-bloody face.

He's not even got his back to the Tens' hiding place, so they can't even sneak attack him. So this is it then.

It's almost a laugh to think of how different things were only a week ago.

He yanks the rag out of my mouth. At last, I can breathe easy - I'll die with lungs full of air.

"Anything to say?"

"There's nothing I can say to change how this is going to go."

"You might be a liar, but you're also correct. There's nothing."

"Behind you."

He turns. As he does so a knife is hurled his way by Settler. Only turning at the moment he did saved him from taking it to the back.

I'd love to say I did that on purpose.

Settler alone doesn't appear to cause Falcon too much distress - not visibly at least - but when Stetson quickly emerges from under the blanket with an oversized cleaver in hand Falcon decides to cut his losses.

With one harsh kick to my side he grabs a tin of fruit from the supplies and bolts back the way he came. Surely he'd have gone for a quick stab had Settler not thrown a second knife.

Stetson chases Falcon, though he returns barely two minutes later. His smile isn't gone though. In fact, he appears amused.

"First he was telling the careers to kill themselves for your sake, now he's trying to kill you because he doesn't know what lying is. That guy's a riot," Stetson says.

"Too bad he's so fast and took some of our stuff," Settler adds.

My stuff, I think. The rag is shoved back in before I can use any real words.

The Tens spend a while moving the traps into different positions to catch Falcon off guard if he comes back and, after that, get back under their blanket in a different spot than before.

I file it all away. They gagged me, but they sure didn't blind me. I don't need words to hint to Solar and Rotor where the traps are… if they ever find me.

By the time the anthem plays, with no tributes shown in the sky, they've not shown up yet.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

A sharp sting to my forehead awakens me.

It's still night. Not quite dawn, not quite the dead hours. It's just early, very early.

But not too early for someone to have thrown a pebble at me. I squint, rapidly blinking my tired eyes. It's hard to focus after a little over a day without any water.

But focus I do, eventually, and out there in the darkness are two tributes - it looks like Solar and Rotor found me after all.

It's clear that they suspect a trap; why else would they wake me up and then hesitate to move forwards? I gesture with my eyes, just for a moment, to where Stetson and Settler were last hidden under the tarp.

Though, did they move while I was asleep? Are they asleep?

They get the hint and move to the other side across from where the Tens probably lay hidden. Both hesitate to move forwards again. Like I told the Tens, myself and the supplies being left like this is very suspicious.

Solar begins to inch forwards but Rotor stops her with a shake of his head. He looks at the sand between himself and where I'm stuck, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Just what clever strategy will he come up with? Tributes from District 3 are known for smarts, so I'm sure I'll be impressed.

Nevermind, he's just kicking sand forth. And yet, it manages to activate the traps without a single hitch. A few kicks and I think he's sprung over half of them.

Of course, that's when the Tens decide that, with their original plan a bust, it's time to move on to their next plan - full frontal attack.

"You foiled our traps?" Stetson says as he emerges from under the blanket. "Inconceivable!"

And yet they just did it anyway.

With most of the traps sprung there's little to stop Rotor and Solar from moving closer to me. Of course, there's nothing to stop the Tens from reaching me even quicker. Stetson duels against Rotor, cleaver to spear, near the same cacti trap that sprung upon Seafoam, while Settler stands before me to block Solar.

Even with a knife in hand, I doubt Solar will be able to fight against the blood scented girl. But maybe there's some way I can assist. Settler has her back to me, clearly doubtful I could do a thing to her.

Well, she and Stetson neglected to tie my legs. Though I'm fairly sure any attempt I could make to kick her would just make her laugh, or annoy her enough to cut her losses and stab me.

Wait. There's a trap yet to be sprung just off to the side. If I could trip her into it…

I look at Solar until she looks at me for the briefest moment. I flick my eyes to where the trap lays in wait. I give her a wink for good measure.

She doesn't wink back - how much of a giveaway would that be? - but her stance changes somewhat.

"Let her go, or I'll make you let her go," Solar says.

"People have told me that a lot back home. It never works," Settler says.

"First time for everything."

Solar bolts forth with speed I hadn't expected of her. Nor had Settler by how she makes to move to the side and away from the knife.

I've just enough time to stick out my leg and trip her up. She falls down right into one of the traps she set up herself. A sharp wooden spike bursts upwards, piercing through her hand.

Despite the blood leaking freely from her hand and how much it must hurt, Settler doesn't scream. She seethes, scrambling to launch herself up at Solar.

At the same time Stetson manages to break past Rotor's block and knock him down upon the sand. Rotor holds up the spear to keep back the cleaver, but how long can he really keep the brute back for?

Settler gets up in an instant, too fast for me to attempt to trip up. But Solar reacts much faster, moving herself back just as she swings her knife at Settler.

The result is that Solar dodges Settler's stab, while Settler falls to the ground with blood pouring out of her slit throat. Choking, wheezing, gasping, she's doing it all. It's about the worst set of sounds I've ever had to hear, and they just won't stop.

"Settler! NO!"

Stetson's horror-stricken reaction to his friend's fatal wound gives Rotor the chance to jerk his knee into Stetson's crotch and send him over. Stetson scrambles away as Rotor gets up.

He looks at Settler, pale faced, and then at the rest of us with such fury. He saves the nastiest look for Solar.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!"

Solar points her knife at him. Rotor points his spear at him. Me? I just glare at him.

With one last look at Settler, and a good spit to the rest of us, Stetson flees, grabbing up the camouflage blanket and his backpack hidden under it along the way.

It's over. This battle at least, though even now Settler continues to suffocate on her own blood.

Solar puts a stop to that with a stab through her throat. One last twitch and then the cannon fires. Thirteen left.

"Thanks," I say, trying to ignore how there's a corpse next to me as Rotor works to untie me. "How did you find me?"

"Pure dumb luck," Rotor says.

Nrrrrgghhh…

Well, better stupid luck than being stuck to a rock until I die of thirst.

"So, where now?" I ask.

"Where else?" Solar asks, sheathing her bloody knife. "We're heading for those ruins."

Once I've, at last, gotten a drink and a chance to eat something, Rotor leads us off, claiming to remember the rough direction he'd last sighted the temples.

Too bad Stetson took my belt of knives. I'll have to make do now with the pair Settler had.

Solar keeps beside me. If she feels bothered about killing Settler then she hides it well. She gives me a look of concern.

"What'd they do to you?" she asks, nodding to my forehead.

"Settler likes knives," I say. "...Liked them."

She takes a clean rag from her pocket, using a little water to dampen it, enough to quickly rub my forehead until it's spotless.

"Nice and clean," she says. "Never say I don't do anything for you."

I never do say that… is that what she thinks?

I shouldn't be paranoid. Solar and Rotor just bailed me out of trouble, surely that's reason enough to trust them a little more, that could've easily gone wrong.

But it's the arena, there's always a hidden motive.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

By the next day we're still not at the ruins, even after walking for most of the day. Though to be fair we did end up going off course twice when more snake mutts came our way. Rotor made short work of them. He really is a natural with his spear.

I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it.

The bigger issue than navigation is, of course, the heat. The gamemakers have turned it up and all morning my forehead has been lathered in sweat.

We're going to need more water much sooner than later.

"Sure would be nice if we could be sponsored something," Solar says. "Water, a map. Either works."

"How many sponsors do you have?" Rotor asks her.

"Not enough," Solar replies. "Yourself?"

"They're how I got this spear, I won't have any right now," Rotor says.

"You didn't get that from the cornucopia?"

"I was preoccupied with not being killed," Rotor says. "Girl from One stole mine when I was running clear."

"Rupee," I add.

"Yeah, her,"

The silence carries on for a while longer, until they're both looking at me.

"Yes?"

"What're your sponsors like Beth?" Solar asks.

"Well, I've gotten nothing yet."

"Because you were tied up, I would think," Rotor says.

"I guess so."

I ask them what they're getting at, and Solar brings it all back to my interview. Not the part where I exposed my parents' as cons and hopefully shut down the cult for good, but rather where I admitted my relations to those within the Capitol.

I waste no time in telling them that my Father's side of the family already disinherited me. Rotor wonders how I could have been set to inherit in the first place if they didn't know I existed, but Solar claims none of that is the point. What about my Mother's side of the family, the ones who haven't disinherited me?

Her eyes light up like Neon when I mention the Weisz's pledged a lot of money to sponsor me, according to Periwinkle.

"I've never met them," I add.

"Who cares about that? This means you've got a load of sponsor money saved up!" Solar exclaims. "You can ask them to send us stuff!"

"...Uh, what sorta stuff?"

"Well, what do we need to survive right now?"

It's several moments of trying to piece together the fragments of survival knowledge I remember from training before Solar gives the answer to me - water. Stetson had moved most of the water I was carrying into his own backpack, so now we don't have anywhere close to enough for three people to live off of.

I'm thirsty as well, so I give in fairly quickly. All it takes is looking skyward and asking Blossom for some water, and suddenly a parachute is falling. Opening it up, I see we've been gifted nine bottles of water. A nice even split of three each.

As the water is passed out I see that Blossom has added a note as well.

'Remember, there's a certain place you can find water in a desert. You've seen it already. Next time you'll have to find the water yourself. Keep going, you're doing fine.-

What such place was that? What have I already seen? I try to recall the answer, but it's fuzzy when I'm so dehydrated. Maybe it'll come to me after a bottle or two of water.

Onwards we go, dune after dune. Resisting the urge to drink is so hard. How do past tributes, among them victors, make survivalism seem so easy? How do they endure on meagre rations?

Are any of the other tributes doing worse than we are?

The other tributes get bought up a while later, specifically my allies' district partners.

"With the Twelves dead, Theory and Cookie will be on their own," Solar says.

"It's a fair bet. I can't speak for Theory, but Cookie fears being alone," Rotor says.

"No, no, Theory is the same. He just wouldn't admit it," Solar says, laughing. "We should try and track them down. Even the odds against the other alliance."

"The careers?" Rotor guesses. He quickly realises there's no other alliances left outside ours and the young duo. "That could work. I doubt Cookie would say no; we're from the same district and all."

"Then it's settled, we'll try to find the kids after we find the ruins and we'll join forces," Solar declares. "You good with that Beth?"

"Uh, sure? There's safety in numbers," I say.

Is there, though? An ugly thought fills my mind, spreading out to churn my stomach. What if that was the real reason they saved me from the Tens? Eliminate a credible threat, benefit from the sponsors I appear to have and, once they regroup with their district partners, take me out?

I try to tell myself I'm just being paranoid, but the thought persists.

But then again, so long as I'm surrounded by allies there's far less chance of Falcon trying to kill me. He'll have seen Settler's face in the sky last night and surely gone back to check what happened. He'll know I'm on the move, and so he'll be on the move too. What then? What if he catches up? Moving with allies is all I can do.

"We're here," Rotor says, breaking my thoughts.

Just over one final dune, and there it is - the ruins.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

We've been here an hour and I'm still in awe of what we're seeing.

The ruins were exactly that, and yet so much more. The black sand gradually gave way to something of a more shadow-orange colour. Built upon it is a massive one storey temple.

Of course, even for just being one storey it's still huge with how high the ceiling reaches. Indoors, the temple is fairly empty and provides a wonderful, if dusty, shelter from the hot sun outside. The ground is fairly cracked, but otherwise nice and smooth. A nice change from the sand we've been walking on for days.

There's also a certain theme going on here - infancy. Here and there on the walls are images of babies, or at least their outlines. It'd be cute, if not for how one baby on the wall looks different than the rest. Even outlined, it's bigger, saggier… something's off about it.

I can't shake the feeling I've seen it before, but I can't recall where. Surely, nothing like that appeared in training. Not even in the mutt books.

It was creepy enough for me to venture back outdoors while Solar continued to search inside for anything useful. Outside the ruins are a lot less put together. Brittle ground and eroded pillars. Some are standing and have varying amounts of damage. Others have fallen over.

Nobody's here but us. We might be the first tributes to have found the ruins, but if that's the case then there's none of the hidden supplies Rotor had thought might be here. In fact, there doesn't seem to be much of anything beyond shelter and a nice view. All that walking for this?

"Guys! Guys! I found something!"

I jog to where Rotor stands, right on the other side of the ruins. The other side is much like the side that faced us on our approach - tall, eroded and breathtaking.

But there's something else. There's a flight of stairs leading down below to a sturdy stone door. This door isn't eroded at all. It looks out of place with how new it is.

"What is it?" I ask. "I mean, aside from being a door."

"I'm not sure," Rotor says. "But if any hidden supplies are here, then they're going to be beyond it. I can't open it though."

"Maybe there's a key somewhere?"

"That was my first thought. But take a closer look - see anything odd?"

"It's the Hunger Games, Rotor. Now isn't the time to be all mysterious."

He relents, pointing out the seven candles built into panels on the wall either side of the door. As he does so Solar walks up behind us, having found nothing inside the temple.

We both catch on quickly that, of the fourteen candles, only three of them are still lit. Now, what could that mean?

"The candles have to relate to the door and what's keeping it locked. Either we need to put out three of them, or light eleven of them," Rotor says. "Any ideas guys"?

"Shit if I know," Solar shrugs. "Do I look like a genius to you? Don't answer that."

"Well, we can't reach the candles. The spear almost bent when I tried smashing it through. Either we have to do something three times, or do something eleven times and I don't know which it is," Rotor says. "I guess we'll have to come back later."

"Sit in the shade for a while then?" Solar suggests.

"Guess we've got no better ideas," Rotor says. "It is hot out… why not?"

We head back inside the ruins, but I can't help thinking about that door and what might be inside of it. I can't help but get an idea as to what those candles might mean, though it could be anywhere from minutes to days before I can prove it.

Let's say something has to happen only three more times. That means something has happened eleven times already. There's only one thing I can think of that has.

Deaths. Cannons. I doubt that door will open any other way than three more tributes dying.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The anthem played and nobody was amongst the fallen. It's looking like it'll be a long night. I'm tired, sure, but I just don't think I have it in me to fall asleep right now.

The caws and shrieks of vultures kept us all up for the past hour before they finally shut up.

"So, what do we do tomorrow?" Rotor asks. "Find Cookie and Theory?"

"We could… or we could just stay here," Solar suggests.

"I second that," I add. "If I never end up walking over a dune again it'll be too soon."

"It wasn't that bad," Rotor tells me.

"You have muscle, I don't," I say.

Solar snaps her fingers a few times. She tells us that, as we're already at a fairly obvious landmark, it only makes sense for us to stay where we are. With it being so easy to spot from afar, the odds are good that the kids will make their way to it eventually. And if not, well, better that we at least have shelter.

That's all well and good, but what if the careers find us? And what about Stetson, he surely wants some revenge for Settler's death. Not to mention Falcon is still out there…

"If we're going to stay here, we should rest somewhere a little less obvious."

"In hidey holes? On the roof maybe?" Solar says.

"If we could get up there, sure."

A parachute falls from outside. There's no missing the distinctive chime it makes. It lands in my lap. Food? Water? No, it's something else. Something large, made of fabric and seamless between my fingers.

"A blanket?" Solar guesses. "Just what you need in a hot desert…"

"That's not a blanket. Look at it, it's changing," Rotor says.

Indeed it does. One moment the sleek featureless blanket adorns my lap. The next moment it's changed to match everything it covers, blending in perfectly. The camouflage blanket that Stetson had was good alright, but this is something else.

I might not be able to use it to hide from mutts or the gamemakers, but I surely could hide from the careers with this.

Rotor's breath hitches. He's seen something outside.

"That was a flashlight," he whispers. "We've gotta move!"

It's not just a flashlight. It's several of them, and some chatter too. Who else but the careers? Blossom must have known we were about to get jumped and sent us this camo blanket.

"Quick," I whisper. "We'll stand by the wall and hold up the blanket."

"You think that's gonna work?" Solar hisses. "Seriously?"

"It'll have to," I say. The careers are making quick progress towards us.

"You get between us," Rotor tells her. "Beth and I will hold it up."

We stand flat back against the temple wall. Rotor holds up the right of the blanket, while I hold up the left.

It suddenly occurs to me that holding things up… it causes strain. How long will my arms be able to remain raised? It surely wouldn't be a problem for a few minutes, but what if the careers decide to camp in here all night?

Shit.

They enter the temple a few moments later. By the sounds of it they're tired. Worn down. Muttering from as much annoyance as pain.

"Fucking snakes," Clamantha says. "How do they even hold that much acid anyway?"

"If anyone could find a way, the gamemakers could," Sun says.

"You mean mutt breeders, right?"

"Look, they both work on the Games, who cares?"

"At least we killed them," Button speaks up. "They weren't that bad."

"Why, because you're too short for them to hit properly?" Sun sneers.

"...Well, they weren't as bad as the vultures," Button says.

"Don't even mention those things," Rupee grunts, finally speaking up.

"I think Eight is right," Clamantha says. "They weren't really that bad."

"Yeah," Sun snorts. "You'd say that, you're the one wearing the armour."

"Jealous?"

I hear them all sitting down, letting out tired sighs. They open bottles, pop open cans and begin to eat. They don't bother with manners or assigning someone to watch the entrance - why would they? They have nothing to fear. Not like us; I fear that my arms are already starting to grow a little tired.

"We'll inch to the side," Rotor whispers so quietly I barely hear him. "Nice and slow."

We move at a snail's pace, the only safe pace we can risk. With the blanket keeping us perfectly hidden against the wall we just had to keep quiet. No problem for me, but can Rotor and Solar truly stop themselves from making a sound? Rotor's struggling to hold back little moans of terror and Solar's breathing is getting funny.

One inch. Two inches. Three inches. This is gonna take a while.

"So what's the plan once we're all rested up?" Rupee asks. "I say we explore this temple, there's gotta be something good around here."

"We need to find Sturm," Sun says. "We need the pack to keep together. No sandstorm is gonna keep us separated for long."

That'd explain why he hasn't spoken up yet. As if that brute would simply choose to be nice and quiet.

"Might not even need a sandstorm to do it," Clamantha says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sun asks.

Clamantha snorts. She throws something which had to have hit Button if his cry is anything to go by.

"Hey!" Button snaps.

"There's your answer," Clamantha says, ignoring Button. "You know that Sturm wasn't happy we let Eight in after he killed Macey. He never stopped grumbling about it. Maybe he decided to cut his losses and work alone."

"Why would he turn on the alliance? He's out numbered and loses access to our supplies," Rupee adds.

"He could be stealing stuff now," Button says.

"He might just be arrogant enough to think he can make it by himself," Rupee says, scoffing.

Halfway to the door. We're doing this, but my arms, oh they're tired…

Button mutters something, clearly loud enough to anger Rupee.

"What was that?"

"Just feels stupid to call him arrogant when you're just as arrogant," Button says. "You treat it like a fact you'll win."

"It is a fact," Rupee says. "You just don't understand."

"If he's gone rogue then what do we do? Hunt him down and kill him for deserting us?" Clamantha speaks up.

"Maybe we could head back? He knows where the cornucopia is and so do we. Let's wait him out," Button says.

"Shut up," Rupee says.

"Why? You know I'm making sense," Button sneers.

"Enough. Maybe he's ditched us, maybe he hasn't. Until we know for sure, we'll treat him like a lost ally who is looking to regroup with us," Sun says, closing the topic.

My arms tremble. Why is holding them up like this making them so sore? I knew I was delicate, but this? This is a real concern.

"...I still say going back to the cornucopia makes sense," Button says.

"Not when we have these ruins to explore. We'll give them a look over in the morning and set off once the area is clear."

"So we're staying the night?" Clamantha asks.

"We are, and I'll take the first watch."

We're out the door and off to the side of its open frame just as Sun decides on this. That's when my arms can't stay up and the blanket drops.

None of us swear or scream, but it's a close thing. Rotor grabs the blanket, pulls us both to the ground upon some rubble and has the blanket upon us barely a moment before Sun steps outside.

It takes a few minutes before I can believe Sun isn't toying with us and that he truly doesn't realise we are here.

How much must this have cost Blossom to censor me? How much did the Weisz's have to pitch in for it?

We can't see Sun from under the blanket. All we can do is remain perfectly still, not even daring to sleep in case one of us were to snore.

It seems we'll be here for a while. Great, that's all the time my arms will need to rest. Joy…

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Even hidden under the blanket I can tell that a new day has arrived, and with it so has heat. Lots of it. Being stuck under this blanket makes it all the hotter.

We're all sweaty and thirsty, but we can't get a bottle of water out without moving the blanket and revealing ourselves. All we can do is bear it until the careers decide to leave.

They're all up and about, searching the ruins and the surrounding area for tributes and secrets. They haven't found us yet nor have they found anything else.

Well, except the door. They couldn't get in - not for a lack of violent trying - and have been puzzling over it for a while.

"Think they'll force their way in?" Solar whispers.

"Surely not. The gamemakers would've made it impossible," Rotor whispers back.

A cannon booms through the arena. I daren't look to see my allies' reactions. Even such a simple thing as turning my head could give us away.

The careers are soon on the move again, heading past us and muttering to each other. To them the temple was nothing but a bust, and they're not keen to let anyone else steal their kills.

"We'll come back when two more tributes die," Sun says. "Until then we'll be looking for Sturm."

"Cornucopia then?" Rupee asks.

"Yeah, and then we can look around the quarry again. There's still caves we didn't check."

They leave, though we remain under the blanket for several minutes. All they'd have to do is look back from the dunes and they'd see us. No, we'll play it safe.

Fifteen minutes later and, at last, we're able to stand up and stretch out.

"Alright," Solar announces. "Imma take a piss. Don't wait up."

She heads around the side of the temple, leaving Rotor and I to start sipping from our water. After a night under a warm blanket in this desert, it's as wonderful as some sort of ambrosia.

"...Was holding the blanket up really that hard?"

"Yes, Rotor, it was. I've never had to exert myself. Physical activity is hard."

"But… it's a blanket."

"A heavy one."

I head around the back of the temple with Rotor by my side. After that ordeal all I want to do is settle down and actually sleep, but I can't. I have to check if I was right about the door.

Surely I am, if the careers are coming back when two more tributes die. Surely.

"Who do you think died?"

"It's more hope than thought but maybe Falcon? I'd rather he not catch up to me again. But if I'm being realistic about things here… Seafoam."

Rotor nods along, not even slightly surprised by my guess.

"I could see it. But you know what I don't get?"

"What?"

"Why did they decide to come back once two more tributes die?"

"Take a look at the door and see for yourself."

He does so and right away I know he's worked it out. One of the candles has gone out. Only two remain lit. So I was right.

Too bad the careers have worked it out too. If we're in there when they come back… well, the blanket worked once. Perhaps it'll work again?

"Two more cannons and we can get in. What do you think they're hiding in here?"

"Don't know," I say. "All I know is I'm going to sleep. Keep watch, yeah?"

"Sure, if you do the same for me."

"Right, right."

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

I slept for a good few hours and so did Solar and Rotor. By now I would think nightfall would've arrived, but it seems the gamemakers are letting the sunset drag out.

Well, it is a beautiful sight. Seated either side of me atop a half eroded marble wall I know my allies feel the same.

"You don't get sunsets like this back home," Solar says. "Too urban. Too polluted. There's always clouds covering the sky, or the tall buildings just get in the way."

"Same with Three," Rotor agrees. "When you're focused on every technology from computers to landmines, you don't have time for sunsets. Not with the factories and the pylons."

"And the rain?" Solar guesses.

"Yep," Rotor says. "I wish I could say rainy reapings are uncommon, but…"

Then they turn to me, asking if I get sunsets back home in District 9.

We do, we really do. There's nothing quite like being able to walk through a field of wheat with the golden rays of the sun shining down at you from the horizon, especially when you can hear the evening birds chirping. All the better when there's a gentle breeze to go with it.

"There's just about nothing better than a sunset back home," I say.

"I dunno, I think leaving the arena alive would be better," Solar says. "But hey, District Nine sunsets are probably second place."

"Maybe if you win you could see one?"

"That'd be nice. But with this arm… I dunno…"

"How's it feeling?" Rotor asks. "Are you regaining feeling? Able to move it? Pain lessening?"

"Uh… I dunno about any of that. I just know it's broken and it sucks," Solar quickly says. "I don't want to think about it too much."

She gets up, dropping off the wall. We do the same, sticking close with her.

"...If I think about it too hard, I'll just… um… remind myself how I won't be able to win a single fucking fight," Solar grumbles.

"You killed Settler," I tell her.

"You'd tripped her into a trap first. We both did that."

"Maybe you'll get lucky?" Rotor suggests.

He thinks luck is a real thing too? Nrrrggghhh…

"Maybe one of you guys will," Solar says.

"I would love to go home," Rotor said, quieter. "My family…"

He doesn't elaborate. I wouldn't expect him to.

"Family…" Solar considers the word for a moment. Then she turns to me. "Hey Beth, your family?"

"What about them?"

"Well, you exposed your parents as scammers and everyone probably hates them now… and fair to say that they're not really fond of you anymore."

It's fair to say this is accurate, but why would she bring that up? Does she not think I deserve to go home when there's nobody left for me? Is she justifying a later betrayal to herself? Is she?!

"Well, uh, you're getting some solid sponsors from your Capitol family. Think they'd just let you stay in the Capitol when you win? I mean, if your family hadn't been dumped in District Nine then that's where you'd have grown up, right?"

I… hadn't considered this, but it's right. Technically I should have lived a life within the Capitol. How different would I be then? Surely not a medium or part of a cult, though would I end up mindlessly cheering over child murder like the citizens do? An ugly thought.

Though, come to think of it, isn't the Capitol a bit of a cult in itself? A cult of personality for whoever is the President. A cult for the Games.

If I'm really getting such a lot of sponsor donations, then maybe the Weisz family want me to stay with them after the Games. It does sound better than returning to Village… if it's even standing, and not a smouldering crater right now.

"...Maybe you're right," I say. "Though there's no way I'll ever know if I don't win. It's pointless to speculate."

"Whoa, you're a cheerful one," Solar says. "Alright then."

Well, it's both speculation being pointless and how family is so complicated for me. I can't afford to let myself be distracted.

We wander around the ruins for a few minutes, just watching the clouds, keeping an eye out for trouble and waiting for the anthem.

But then there's a rumbling. It's not an earthquake, not even close. It sounds like… an engine.

"You guys hear that, right?"

"What's an engine doing in the desert?" Solar asks. "Rotor, are you making any sense of that?"

"None," he says. "But, and this may sound crazy… it sorta sounds like chainsaws?"

"You need more water, you're talking crazy," Solar says.

I'm about to interject that it does sound like a chainsaw, but that's when an eroded wall right before is blasted apart, rubble and dust sent flying every which way. We're all sent back, as much from surprise as rubble pieces hitting our faces.

When the dust clears a tribute stands before us - Sturm. He's grinning, all ready for a fight even with his alliance miles away, but the career isn't what truly gets my attention. It's his weapon. He's not using a sword anymore.

He holds what looks like a metal casing - a tube really - the size of a slightly-too-big fire extinguisher. I can see a fuel tank built into it from below. But it's what's on the front that really has me paling for how obvious it is what he intends to do with it.

It's a propeller blade, triangular in formation. But the three blades aren't simply blades, oh no.

They're chainsaws, each one revving and rumbling even now.

Sturm revs up the blades, grinning at how all three of us have paled so much at the sight of his never before seen weapon, and how none of us have a weapon that could hope to counter it.

"Hell of a thing, right?" he says, patting the weapon briefly. "Amazing what you can get when you combine the sponsors of my district and District Three."

"District Three?" Rotor asks, realisation already setting in.

"Your little partner was all alone after the sandstorms. I promised to keep her safe from everything if she made me a very special weapon. I cut down a dozen snakes and vultures for her," Sturm says, nodding. "Of course, when the weapon was done I had to cut her down."

For one sick moment I wonder if he used the weapon to gore her up, but no, there's no blood upon the blades.

"You… you…" Rotor can barely speak past his rage.

"Relax, I broke her neck," Sturm says. "I wouldn't waste fuel on a tiny kid."

His grin becomes feral, worse than anything I saw from him in the bloodbath.

"I'd rather use that fuel on three older tributes," Sturm concludes. "Who needs that old 'career alliance' when I've got this beauty?"

As quick as Solar grabs her knife and Rotor readies his spear Sturm yanks out a single syringe and injects whatever's inside it into his veins.

"Nothing better to get the heart going than adrenaline!" Sturm says, getting into a fighting stance.

He revs the propeller on and on until the chainsaws move so fast that I can barely see them spinning around.

"LET'S DO THIS!"

He runs like a speeding bull. It's easy enough for us to leap aside, letting him charge onwards where he smashes right through a pillar, but already I know that I won't be able to keep this up. If it's a matter of leaping and rolling away from the chainsaws, I'll be on my knees in minutes.

Sturm quickly turns back, making to charge once again. This time it's Solar who has to dodge. She's barely in time, while Sturm smashes another pillar to bits.

It's like a demented sort of bullfight, there's no other way to describe it. Sturm will rev his weapon up to full speed and we'll dodge it, only for him to simply come to a stop after smashing up a wall or a pillar and repeat the process. We won't be able to keep this up forever. We'll have to find a safe counterattack, and fast!

Rotor, the furthest back, tries to take aim with his spear and hurl it at Sturm. The career, of course, sees it coming and tries to block it with his spinning chainsaws.

Actually, 'tries' is inaccurate. That would imply room for error. He blocks it outright, the spear being half shredded and what's left of the shaft harmlessly sent flying aside.

"Is that all you got?" Sturm taunts us.

He sprints at Rotor, only for my ally to lunge to the side. Sturm runs right inside the temple, only for his blades to not be able to ram through the wall. He deflects off, awkwardly turning himself around to face us again.

His weapon clearly didn't seem to handle that kind of impact very well…

Again he sprints forth, missing and this time clipping off of a large boulder. He's quickly sent back almost the very way he came - right towards me. He's too fast, there's no way I can dodge this one!

I hit the ground hard enough to scrape my hands, but better a scrape than a shredding. Rotor quickly helps me up, pulling me further back from where Sturm hit into the temple wall, once again smacking it uselessly.

But it wasn't a useless charge. I just dropped my camouflage blanket and he shredded it.

"You need to be careful!" he yells, more out of worry than anger.

"I'm trying," I insist.

How can we beat Sturm? Well, what do we know about him? He's a brute who trained all his life for the Games and he's got every advantage over us physically. But what do we know about him that might not apply to every other career?

Four more broken pillars later and I think I've got my answer - he showed me how to use a knife and, in doing so, showed how he fights. He always favours his right side, not the left. That'd be the side to get him, or at least dodge him on.

My knife won't do much good against a weapon like what he's holding though… but such a weapon wouldn't do him any good if it could be used on him. No way could we steal his weapon, but if we could make him fall into it… yes, yes, that seems logical. Workable.

"Fuck, how's he not tiring out yet?" Solar moans.

Sturm just laughs, thanking his sponsors for the adrenaline. By how he's wrecked about half of the ruins. Clouds of dust and piles of rubble are spreading around. Before long we won't be able to see him.

Then again, he wouldn't be able to see us through the dust would he?

I wheeze, just about ready to kneel over. It feels like I've run five miles in as many minutes. Solar's similarly tiring out. Rotor, he's handling it better.

Sturm? He looks like he could run for miles and not break a sweat.

"Got any plans?" Solar asks. "We should just run."

"Where? It's an open run into a desert, he'd catch us."

"Then what else do you think we should do?"

"Get him to trip over onto his own chainsaws."

"Messy. I like it. OK, how do we-SHIT, RUN!"

We flee in opposite directions just in time to dodge Sturm's latest charge. This time he keeps after Solar. He keeps after her fast.

She trips.

He was so close that he stumbles over her.

He catches himself before he falls over. He, once more, charges into the temple and smashes into a wall too rock hard for his weapon to burst through.

From within the temple there's a blast, an explosion. A fire has set inside and it's spreading fast. The weapon is still going, I can hear it from here, but is that the end of Sturm? Was he taken out just like that from his own weapon?

"...I think we got him," Rotor says, panting as he helps Solar up. "You good?"

"Been better," she replies, stepping back and looking at a newly formed set of scrapes and welts upon her hand. "I'd kill for some wound sealer."

"Technically you just did," I say.

There's suddenly something else. The sound of something building up, of pressure rising all too fast. Then comes the sound of what, to me, is nothing more or less than a demonic steam horn.

At exactly the same time a massive barrage of fire bursts out from within the temple. It misses Solar by maybe three feet.

Rotor takes the worst of it, vanishing into the flames for all of three seconds. There's no hearing his screams over the deafening steam horn.

When the fire clears Rotor is on fire as well. His screams are breathless and despairing. His hair is half gone and most of what remains is burning. Much of his clothing has been lost, and most of his skin is searing terribly red. There's none of it left at the tips of his fingers.

As Solar and I scream, Sturm reappears from within the temple. He's burning too, and his weapon is ablaze. But he's far from giving up. He revs the turbine - burning so hot the metal is turning an orange colour - and rushes right at Rotor.

I can't look. I can't, I can't, I can't-I'm gonna throw up.

I'm retching, Solar is swearing and Rotor, he screams until his voice fails him at last. When I dare to let myself look, he's surely already gone.

He lays burning on the ground, nothing but a puddle of chum left of his right arm and much of his torso.

Sturm stands about him, still revving and laughing. And still burning.

"There we go! That's how it's done!" he sneers, roaring skyward. Seriously, he's playing for the cameras while he's burning? "Who's next?!"

Solar shivers at the sight of what's left of Rotor. I'm just about ready to throw up again.

The return of that awful steam horn forces us to act. We're barely behind one of the few remaining walls before it's too late.

"How do we get him to trip?" Solar moans. "W-w-w-we're fucked."

"He favours his right side. We'd have to go left and hit his leg or something."

"...That's insanity. He'll tear us up," Solar says.

"He'll tear us up anyway once we run out of breath in a minute."

"So, what, you wanna just 'get it over with'?"

"I guess so."

Either I die now or I die in a few minutes. Only difference is that if I act now, there's some chance I may succeed.

As much as I hate to say it… I need luck.

We hear him coming long before he hits through the wall. I don't run too far through. Why force myself to take extra steps before I die.

When Sturm sees that Solar has run to take cover further back, and that I'm out in the open he turns to face me for his next charge.

I step towards him, knife held tight.

"Oh, you're approaching me?" he asks. "Instead of running away you're coming right at me?"

"Can't do much good running away."

"Nothing but live a moment longer. Oh well, have at it!"

He revs the badly burning weapon again and runs at me. There's nothing for me to do but run right towards him.

I can only hope, if this fails - and surely it will, luck isn't real - that my death won't be as horrible as Rotor's was.

Right as Sturm reaches me I tuck into a roll, slashing the knife wildly to the side. Somehow I'm still alive a few seconds later.

The knife has fresh blood upon the blade.

Sturm curses from the wound. Then he stumbles, screaming terribly as he tumbles over.

Blood splatters hard against my back. I don't look back. I won't look back.

I won't look at the boy being turned to mulch behind me, even as his screams become more and more warped and inhumane.

Solar comes by at some point, helping me up and leading me away from the battle site. She doesn't say a word, except to keep telling me not to look at it.

We're around the other side of the temple just as Sturm's screaming finally stops.

We've barely started wheezing when two cannons fire and his weapon explodes.

Only a couple feet away the locked door is no longer such. The stone door audible sinks away into the ground.

"...Let's just sit first…" Solar shudders.

"...Yeah. Let's," I say.

What else is there to say when one of your allies… one of your friends, because Rotor was a friend, he shoved me out of the way of the blades at great risk to himself when he didn't truly have to… what is there to say when they get chainsawed into paste?

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The gamemakers move things along soon enough once the bodies - or what might've once counted as bodies - are removed by the hovercraft.

The anthem plays and, as I knew, up above are the faces of Sturm, Rotor and Cookie. If anything can be said then - if Sturm were honest - at least Cookie died quickly.

The careers will know we're down to ten and will be on their way back before long, but after what happened it's hard for Solar and I to summon the courage, nerve and plain motivation to investigate what's beyond that door.

We're shaken, but the arena isn't letting the trauma really sink in just yet. It's not hit us, I think, but it surely will soon.

"You know what sucks?" Solar asks.

"Everything we just survived?"

"Yeah, and if one of us wins this thing, we'll have to watch it again at the interview."

"Guess I can't just close my eyes for the whole thing?"

"You can try, but smart money is they'd have a rule against doing that."

Eventually, bloodstained, tired and in some form of shock as we are, we decide it's time to head within the temple. If there's anything good in there, let's at least get it before the careers can.

Rotor would've loved to do this. Well… OK, maybe not 'loved to', but he'd surely have plenty of facts and figures from past games to guide him, and us, towards success. But that knowledge died with him. It's up to Solar and I to face whatever comes next.

"Ready?" I ask.

"No. You?"

"Not really, no."

The choice is made for us when another sandstorm, one more powerful than the first one, begins to form. It thunders across the desert, steadily making its way towards the temple.

We're down the stairs and through the door pretty quick after that.

I'd expected to have to fumble through the dark, but to my surprise the underground is rather well lit. Not perfectly, mind you, but better than you'd expect of an underground tomb. Along the walls are many brightly lit torches, all burning away with a nice golden glow.

We're soon down the long stairway the door led to and step out into the first room of the underground. The room is fairly standard; the same sort of look as the interior above, only with a table set up in the centre of the room.

"Aw shit, not these things," Solar moans.

"What's so bad about them?"

"They suck, that's what."

I don't see the problem. It's just a block slider puzzle on the table. Even with everything in the wrong order, it is fairly easy to tell it's supposed to be a picture of a baby, like the ones in the upstairs room.

It's also just a three by three puzzle. The leftover piece must be somewhere in the room. I tell Solar to find it while I get to work. Puzzles are about the only kind of hard work I can do.

"You'll be at that for ages," Solar warns. "The careers could return and corner us. Maybe if we cut our losses here we can-"

"Done."

"Shit, for real?"

It's several minutes later that Solar locates the missing piece of the puzzle beneath the table. Once it's slotted into place part of the wall sinks into the ground, revealing the next room.

"Now who's got the hard job?" I ask her. "You took a while."

"Not my fault you're a puzzle genius," she says, ruffling my still-bloody hair. "So smart!"

"Oh, stop that," I say, following behind her to the next room.

Actually, maybe I don't want her to stop. It's nice to be praised. It wasn't a hard puzzle, but if it means her complimenting me I'll let her think so.

The second room looks identical to the first, but sports a totally different puzzle. On the table is a maze with a hole at the centre and a ball in the starting zone. The table also appears able to tilt.

"And here I was thinking that the Capitol only cared about bloodshed," Solar snarks. "Seems like they enjoy a good puzzle too."

"Doesn't everyone?" I ask.

She gives me a dry look. Fair enough, not everyone can appreciate a puzzle. I'm sure Rotor would've… no, I can't think about that.

I start to tilt the table, moving the ball along while trying so hard not to think about the sounds of screams, chainsaws and that awful steamhorn.

I suspect this sort of a puzzle would be harder to overcome if I were by myself. Oh, I'd get past it, I'm sure of that much. But with Solar here, she can direct me on where to go next while I focus on where the ball itself is. It makes it easy not to lose it down any of the holes along the way to the goal.

"How many puzzles do you think there are down here?" Solar asks.

"Maybe ten? We were only allowed in here when ten remained," I say.

"Ten puzzles? Suddenly the sandstorm doesn't sound too bad."

"I dunno, I would rather face a tilting maze than get sand buried in my corneas."

"...Alright, fine, so would I."

It's not too hard to finish the puzzle between the two of us and open the way ahead to the third room. Solar grandly beckons me to go ahead.

"After you, m'lady," Solar says.

"Lady, am I?"

"More of one than me," Solar says. "You've got manners and stuff."

"I suppose one of us has to have them."

We continue forth like this, solving one puzzle after the next. A large jigsaw puzzle on the floor, a series of trivia questions about last year's Hunger Games, a riddle where answering incorrectly would unleash nerve gas… the answer was a baby.

Each solved puzzle takes us deeper, to another puzzle and another lit room. But it's not just rooms that we find our way through. There's hallways that branch off but always come to the same place. There's the occasional closet as well, though they're all empty.

"What do you suppose those closets are for?"

"Hiding place from the careers?" Solar suggests.

"Mmm, seems a bit too obvious of a place to hide from them. They'd check."

At last, we reach the seventh puzzle. Though it might not be the last, there could be more beyond it. But this room isn't like the rest. It's better lit, there's golden adoring the walls. It just looks a lot grander. Surely something worth having awaits us if we can solve the puzzle.

The puzzle itself doesn't appear to be anything too crazy or hard. Five statues are set up, all literally baby faced. On a table in the centre of the room sit five masks; a yellow happy one, a blue sad one, a red angry one, a purple surprised one and a green lovestruck one.

"So, we match a mask to the right statue," I deduce. "Easy enough."

"What's with all the baby imagery?" Solar asks. "It's gotta be deliberate, yeah?"

"Oh, of course."

"Any ideas what it means?"

"None whatsoever."

Guessing would surely bring about some fatal consequences if our, ick, luck wasn't good. So we look around for clues and find a sheet of paper under the table.

"What's it say?" Solar asks.

"You can read, can't you?"

"Sure, but I could listen to you solving puzzles and being smart all day," she says.

She puts on a smug little grin that shouldn't be quite so flustering, yet it is anyway. I'm quick to turn away and look down at the paper. Compliments are nice, but that… that felt a bit more.

"Um, let's see here…" I clear my throat. "Far left had a good day, near left had a bad day, middle got cut off in traffic, near right saw a cockroach in their bed and far right had a Hunger Games themed wedding."

"...They theme their weddings after this?" Solar shakes her head, lost.

"It would seem so."

"Do you think any of your Capitol family did that?"

"Sounds like a question for another day."

It's not a hard puzzle to solve. We work quickly, putting the masks where they need to be. I place the yellow mask on the far left and the blue mask on the near left while Solar places the green mask on the far right and the purple mask on the near right.

"Alright then," Solar says as she picks up the red mask. "Let's see what we've been solving puzzles for. Hope it's food."

She puts the mask into place and the effect is instantaneous. The wall ahead begins to part down the middle, pulling back into the walls until a whole new part of the room has been revealed to us, and with it our prizes for solving the puzzles.

Four six-packs of water bottles. Juicy pork in flat see-through plastic boxes. A metal shield that, to me, looks more like if a disc got run over. A sleek suit of body armour folded all neat and tidy.

The crown jewel though? A medical kit.

"Maybe the gamemakers aren't so bad after all," Solar remarks, wasting no time in stuffing the medical kit into her backpack.

"I dunno, they still put us in a desert when we could've had a lovely wheat field," I say, claiming one of the water sixpacks.

"Hands off those supplies, they're mine."

There's someone in the doorway. For one moment I felt a world away, expecting that the entire pack had surrounded us… but no, it seems like it's just Rupee. Are the rest behind her? I don't see them. Could they have been separated by the sandstorm? That'd be better, but getting past even one career will be an ordeal.

It's her knives and the spear across her back that hold my attention. She's not bothered to clean the blood off of them. Just whose blood was that?

"How nice of you guys to open the way for me," Rupee purrs out. "So sweet, so charitable. I was starting to wonder if I'd have to make you guys hurry up. I was getting terribly bored."

"You've been watching us?" Solar asks, gripping her knife.

"Yeah, for ages," Rupee says, laughing. "Honestly, how didn't you get the answer to the sand weight puzzle right away?"

"If you could've solved it, couldn't you have killed us and done it yourself?" I ask.

"... I didn't want to. Why do myself what you can do for me?"

"She couldn't work it out," Solar snorts.

"Oh, not in a million years," I agree. Why are we trading snark? We're about to die.

One look at the incensed look in Rupee's eyes and I know - that's why. We won't give her the satisfaction.

"We killed Sturm," I tell her.

At this, she laughs. At first I think she's amused that her once-ally got himself killed, but as she keeps laughing I know it's more that she finds such a notion hilarious.

"As if," she says. "A girl with a broken arm and a girl who can barely run without fainting killing a tribute from District Two? Sturm was strong, it was probably mutts or the boy from Ten."

She taps a knife to her chin, thinking about something or other. They are sheathed and her spear comes out. She holds it in a way that favours her left hand. It doesn't appear that she's left handed.

"But since you're both wounded and weak, how about I go easy on you?" Rupee says. "I'm not left-handed - come on, take a chance. Just try to get past me."

Solar holds her gaze. I look for any sort of a way out of this. Perhaps if we were to throw the shield at her? Oh, but she'd see it coming and dodge, and then she'd protect us against whatever we did yet. Maybe if I put the armour on? Hmmm, no time for that.

Solar makes the choice for us both, whispering for me to get the supplies into my backpack while I still have a chance. She moves to guard me, and what else can I do in the few seconds we still have than do as she asks and fit what I can inside my backpack?

Rupee makes no move to stop us, only saying that it's nice of me to save her some time packing everything away.

"Get ready," Solar whispers.

For what? Dying?

"You know something One?" Solar says, taking a step towards Rupee.

"What?" Rupee asks, smugly taking two steps towards Solar.

"I'm not left handed either."

It happens so quickly. One moment Solar moves forth with her left hand raised.

The next second she throws the knife at Rupee and, as she moves to block it, raises a second knife hidden within her sling and brings it down with her right hand. It pierces right into Rupee's shoulder, earning a howl of agony.

Rupee only howls forth as Solar elbow bashes her against the wall, the knife still buried into her. She takes my free hand with her apparently-not-broken right hand, pulling me along behind her.

"C'mon, let's go!" Solar yells. "Before that bitch stands up!"

She leads me back through the last two puzzle rooms and down the long corridor right afterwards. Behind us Rupee continues to curse and shout, struggling to stand.

I pay her no mind. Not when it's hitting me now… Solar has lied to me, to the nation, from the very start. Her arm was never broken! It was all part of her strategy… and what a good thing it was she did so. Had Rupee seen that coming, we'd probably be dead.

But, she could've told me right? Or, did she want an advantage over me if it came down to the two of us?

"We could hide in a closet?" I suggest. "Rupee won't expect that."

"No way, we've gotta keep moving!" Solar replies.

We move all the way back to the fourth puzzle room, the jigsaw puzzle on the floor. But… something has definitely changed since we were last here. Most of the torches have gone out. What few remain are a dark bloody red, bathing the room in the bleakest of colours.

The torches behind us have changed as well.

It's so hard to see down the corridor leading closer to the exit. It's barely more than darkness and scant near-useless torchlight. Something feels wrong.

"Solar, the light-"

"I remember the way."

"But what if there's a trap waiting for us?"

Rupee's shouts are getting louder behind us. She's on her way and surely, even with poorer light, she'll be able to find her way easily enough. The careers had flashlights back at the canyon, and surely one of them belonged to her.

There's little choice to be made. We can only keep moving and hope for the best.

"C'mon, not much further!"

We move further down the long hallway that will lead us to the third puzzle room. Left or right at the junction, it makes no difference when they converge in the same place. Solar leads us right, taking us past one of the closets along the way.

We're at the converging point and it's a straight shot ahead to the third puzzle room. One long hallway, nothing we can't overcome… even if my legs feel like they're burning bright.

"So," I say as I pant for air. "Your arm. It's not broken then? When did it heal… or was it ever really broken?"

"Now's not really the time, don't you think?" Solar says. "Interrogate me when we're away from One, but yeah, never broken."

"At least you admit it."

"I never lie," Solar teases. "Except when I do and-WHAT THE FUCK!?"

She screeches us to a sudden halt, enough for me to hit right into her and almost knock us down. Solar stays standing and keeps me held up, enough for me to see something is just ahead of us in the darkness.

Even from here I can see drool leaking from what has to be the mouth of… what it is, I do not know. Until it begins to crawl forwards and, suddenly, I know all too well.

The sight of it has my heart spiking. Solar shudders as much as I whimper as we step back and back, all while it crawls closer and closer. It's the size of two sofas atop each other. Its flesh is sagging dreadfully and looks so shrivelled yet moist. From what little I see beyond it, it seems to leave a trail of blood and ichor. Its mouth is toothless, but wide like its jaw must be broken. Its eyes, they're black, soulless and staring. One of them hangs low, unable to close properly.

But the worst of all is what this creature is. There's no other way to say it other than calling it a malformed foetus. A baby. Just as the temple has been warning us of from the start.

"DADA…."

It can talk.

I must've blanked out. Too scared to think. Too terrified to breathe. When I'm aware of the world again I'm practically slumped over Solar's shoulder as she sprints full tilt down the hallway.

The obvious course of action is to just go the other way around the hallway, but it's impossible. The gamemakers have sealed it off with a wall that wasn't there before.

A loud, childish giggle echos from the darkness. Babbling follows as it gets closer.

It sounds just like a real baby.

"What do we do?!" Solar yells.

"Closets…" I manage to choke out.

Solar must remember where one is because she's quickly running back where we came, veering to the left and re-entering the fourth puzzle room. She arrives just as Rupee limps in, the knife still stuck in her shoulder.

By the time Rupee has gotten her spear ready Solar has already rushed us past us, taking off into the darkness. We're so fast that for a moment I can't hear Rupee moving at all.

But she's soon moving again, choosing to pursue us. By then Solar has reached the closet, almost yanked the door off the hinges and thrown me inside. She joins me only a moment later, leaving us so cramped that it's a struggle to move.

I can't help but hold her close, shaking so hard I fear I might give us away. Solar holds me in return, and she's shaking as well. We hold one another tightly as we can; only that way can we keep ourselves still and be sure we won't be heard.

Something's coming… and luckily it's Rupee rather than the monster. She pauses, groaning from the knife and the agony it's surely causing her. We're too low down to see through the slats, but from her grunts and whimpers it's easy enough to figure out she's tried to take the knife out, only to think better of it and leave it in.

"Run in the dark all you want!" she shouts. "But I'll find you both eventually, and when I do…"

She might find us if we're not quiet. But that baby will surely find her if she keeps making noise.

Rupee storms just a bit further ahead, but the distant stomping steps of the baby lures her right back. No doubt she thinks it's a mutt she could kill, and maybe it is… but I have a hunch this is one mutt we're not supposed to be able to fight.

That awful giggly, gurly laughter returns, as does the moaning. The baby is near, surely at the end of the hallway. Not far from us nor Rupee. The thought has me holding tighter to Solar.

"It doesn't know we're here," she says, almost silent.

But can it smell us? Can it just sense us regardless of what we try?

"Eww, what the fuck?" Rupee's noticed the baby.

She stands her ground, no doubt appearing threatening, but the baby doesn't sound bothered. Closer and closer its crawls come. Rupee stands her ground, threatening it as it looms near.

When it's too near her her liking she hurls her spear towards it. The squelch that suddenly follows no doubt means it was a good hit, but the mutt isn't bothered. It just laughs and giggles as it keeps crawling.

"No! No, stay back!" Rupee tells, suddenly afraid. "Get away from me!"

I think she threw a knife. It clearly did nothing.

Rupee starts to run, only to ram into something. She's screaming now, pounding at a wall that wasn't there before. There's nowhere for her to run.

Solar holds me, letting me hide my face away against her shoulder. If only I could hide my ears away too. Few should want to hear Rupee's terrified begging and wailing, her voice getting higher as it cracks more and more.

"NO! NO!"

The baby laughs. I hear it lunging for Rupee and giggling louder as it grabs hold. Rupee's words become too frantic and high to make out. She struggles, screams and begs.

Then, after the most nauseating series of cracks and gurgles I'll ever hear, there's only silence.

"Yummy!"

The cannon goes off, an afterthought at this point when the baby is still right there and still hungry for more.

"It's further down the hall," Solar whispers, sounding a second away from throwing up. "C'mon, we won't get another chance."

She kicks open the locker and hurries out, once again keeping me over her shoulder. I'm treated to the view of the baby awkwardly turning around to face us, giggling all the while even with a spear buried deep into its neck.

Vomit passes my lips, staining the floor and the back of Solar's shirt when I see the flowing blood pouring from its mouth. Rupee's remnants, surely.

It's all too easy for Solar to outpace the cumbersome baby, but the gamemakers work hard to force us to have to face it again. A wall comes down, and only raises by the time the baby is scant feet away from us.

We hurry into the room of the floor jigsaw again. Solar, of all things to do, comes to a stop.

"What're you doing?" I ask. "It's still coming!"

"Maybe if we unsolve the puzzle the door will seal itself!"

She kicks the pieces away, but there's no such luck. The door remains open and the giggling from the darkness gets closer and closer. Close enough that I can see the bloodied drool fall.

Solar rushes forth, down another corridor. Of course, the way ahead is blocked so we have to turn back and take it from the other route… but we can't. The baby is up ahead, and even then the tunnel beyond it has become sealed as well.

"What do we do?!" Solar wails.

"Hide!"

As luck would have it there's a closet up ahead. We're inside it before the baby can round the corner and see us. We stand side by side, not daring to breathe as it lumbers closer, one squelch at a time.

Closer it gets until it's right outside the closet. It moans and slurs, letting out a fussy little whine. It sounds like it's going to cry.

It's so close beyond the slats. Its head sags and its eye roams around its socket. For one awful moment I think it's locked eyes with me… but no, it can't see us. It turns and begins to crawl back the way it came, only to stop mere feet away as it continues to whine.

The wall lowers and Solar whispers for me to get ready. Pointless really; I don't think anyone could be ready for something like this.

We're off on our way and the baby turns to pursue, but now it's crawling faster than before. But the exit isn't far ahead. Maybe we could bar the doorway with something?

We finally run back to the first room. This one's darker than the rest, but there's an even bigger problem - the door is sealed! No amount of pounding can bring it down, and to make matters worse there's nowhere left for us to hide.

The baby is getting closer and closer, slowing as it finally nears us.

We both break, screaming and shouting for the gamemakers to let us out. To give us a place to hide. To get out of the darkness.

They do so, starting to lower the wall… but it's going so slowly. All the while the baby is starting to move out of the darkness and close enough for us to see it.

I wouldn't give it even half a minute before it reaches us and eats us. At this we'll be dead before the wall lowers!

"Here, I'll give you a boost," Solar urges.

She quickly does so, helping me up to the top of the wall. It's an awkward balance, but I manage to make it over, though she grabs at me before I can drop to the other side.

"Pull me up! Hurry!" she screams. "Me pull over this Games damned wall!"

It makes no sense for me to try when I'm so weak, but I'm already doing it before logic sets in. My arm burns almost right away from Solar's weight, even as she tries to climb and kick herself up the wall from the other side. It seems hopeless and the baby laughs and giggles all the more.

Then, suddenly, the wall lowers just enough for me to properly get a grip on the ground. I'm not sure how much of it is my own force rather than Solar's own strength, but finally I pull Solar over the wall where she lands atop me.

The force knocks the air out of me, but Solar is up right away. Only a second later the wall is gone and the baby prepares to lunge.

Only Solar pulling me just out of its range as it lunges forth saves me. But it doesn't spare me the sight of its horrible face or the rancid smells that follow it.

"Come on! RUN!"

We rush up the final stairway to the exit above. Behind us I hear the baby whining as it realises the stairway corridor is too narrow for it to possibly fit through. It begins to wail and cry just like a little baby would.

One step, five steps, ten steps. We practically fly up them until we're outside once again. The sandstorm has come to an end, replaced now by a fierce downpour all across the desert.

We're back inside of the temple in mere seconds. Finally, I sink to my knees and slump down on my side.

One muffled cry from somewhere below me, the sound just barely making its way through the bricks, and it finally all hits me.

The fright of the sandstorm.

Rotor's horrible death.

Sturm falling upon his own chainsaws because of my big gamble.

That freakish baby down in the darkness.

Hearing Rupee getting devoured by that wretched beast.

The fact all this was the only way to ever live my own life.

It's too much. The baby isn't the only one crying anymore. Now I'm doing the same, but harder. Even when Solar returns, halfway soaked to death, to take me in for a hug I keep crying.

I don't think I stop crying until I feel myself finally passing out.

The last thing I recall thinking before it all fades away is how I really have nobody waiting for me at home, while all my fallen allies surely did.

That and, even still alive as I am, I feel no closer to being my own person, just Beth, than I was before the Games began. Will I ever?