.
~~(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)~~
Author's Notes:
Triage: Thanks to Evie Rose and Team Shadow for their tireless Beta Works. Things are coming to a head for Gadget.
Zevoros: Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts.
Additional thanks to CragmiteBlaster.
Penelope's Web
Chapter 16
The Creaking Wheel
Peeta is dead.
It should never have been him. Gadget was certain. It should've been her. The Harbinger of Seneca Crane killed Peeta instead of her.
Gadget didn't know how long she'd laid there, pretending to be asleep. An hour? Two? It didn't matter to her. Not as she buried her face where no one could see it and she let the tears come, unbidden.
Corduroy had been up for much longer. Gadget heard his quiet steps as he walked around the small camp they'd set up for themselves. He checked on their supplies, the familiar sound of a backpack zipper reaching her ears, before it came again, pulling it back up into a closed position.
She didn't know what Corduroy was doing, and Gadget had quickly decided that she didn't care. Her thoughts were plagued by her failures once more. Peeta. Her friend. One of the few friends she had left in the arena and…and now he was dead.
Why? Why couldn't the Harbinger have taken me instead!?
She had just gotten Peeta and Corduroy back. She had just escaped from the Careers. And…and now Peeta was dead. She'd watched it happen and had done nothing. Nothing as that claw pierced through his chest and then…and then…
Gadget squeezed her eyes tighter together and hid a sniffle.
But she couldn't have stopped it. The Harbinger…it was too strong for them alone. Gadget recognized that. Seneca Crane had put them in an impossible situation. He wanted one of them to die and…he got what he wanted.
Her hands wrapped around her torso ever tighter, hugging herself and pulling her knees closer against her chest. The thermal blanket that covered her felt anything but comfortable. And she only wanted to lose herself in the databanks, a lost file that cannot be found.
Why couldn't it have been her? She didn't have anything left to offer. Not like Peeta could. Wasn't her…story over? Binary had her suit. What else could Seneca Crane want from her? Or did he think that Peeta wasn't interesting enough?
She didn't know. But she couldn't take this anymore. Even if she had to leave Corduroy alone…he was stronger than her. He would be fine without her. And it would drop the tribute count to six.
The family interviews. Gadget had forgotten about them. They would be well underway by now, if not complete by now. She wondered what Zeno would say about her. What would Micra and Flux say? Or Syncis?
Why didn't it kill me!? Gadget asked bitterly for the umpteenth time. I couldn't be so interesting that they want me to keep going! They have no right!
She knew better of course, but she railed against the twisted system of the Games. The Gamemakers had the final say on who lived and who died, it was not fair, and the odds were often stacked against them, but then, their lives were cheap in the eyes of the Capitol. Whoever valued a district's life anyway?
Septimius, maybe, but he was the exception, not the norm.
Gadget twisted and pulled the blanket off. The noise roused Corduroy's attention, but he didn't say anything as she pulled herself up and grabbed her nearby clothes. They were damp, she noticed. But not damp enough to be irritating on her skin.
Ever so slowly, she pulled the clothes on. But her mind remained in a whirl of thoughts. Why couldn't it have gone down differently? Why couldn't the Harbinger have just killed her and be done with it? Hadn't she been through enough torture? Hadn't she caused enough suffering to people?
Her sorrow-filled eyes drew towards her outer jacket. It was burned and singed from jumping through that fire. But it was still usable. It was far from destroyed. She grabbed it and pulled her arms through it until it was wrapped around her again. She glanced at Corduroy, but it looked like his outer jacket had taken less of the brunt of the flames than hers did.
It doesn't matter, Gadget decided. None of it mattered. She fiddled with the burn marks along her jacket, flipping it over in her palm for a moment before she let it go. Another person was dead. Another one of her friends.
Another person she cared about.
It was too much. She couldn't withstand this burden anymore. She glanced down at her belt and unsheathed her knife from its position, turning it around in her hand.
It would be so easy. One stab. That's all it would take. It would be extremely painful, but…but after everything she had done…the way she killed Thresh and…and Cato…this pain was deserved. It would be the very last thing she would ever feel.
Gadget was a murderer. She killed them. Ended their lives. And Peeta had been so kind to her. Shown her sympathy that she knew she didn't deserve. What she deserved…was this.
Gadget raised the knife in her hand, holding it firm by the handle. This was the least of what she deserved. Beetee, Wiress, and Septimius…they'll move on. They'll forget, she reassured herself.
The knife tilted until it was pointed straight at her chest. What would be the best place to do it? Her heart pulsed in fear but she tried to squash it. She couldn't take any more of this.
I want to die.
She craved it. The end of her life. Even as tears fell down her face, staining her skin once more. When had she started to cry?
The Harbinger should have killed her. At least then Corduroy and Peeta would have a chance with a better ally.
If she could pierce her heart, then it would be over. Gadget couldn't imagine the pain she would feel, but…it would be quick, at least. And after what she had done to Thresh…the thought made her choke on her quiet sobbing.
Despair welled inside of her, coiling around her and grasping so hard she couldn't breathe.
She closed her eyes, closed her mind to Corduroy's presence. He would be better off, and safer once she's gone. Carefully, almost ceremoniously, she interlaced the dagger's hilt between her fingers and stretched her arms as far as she could. It would be awful if she couldn't even pierce her heart right, the way she fouled up her mercy kill for Thresh. Well, maybe it was the least she deserved, too.
Drawing her last breath, she tensed her muscles to plunge the blade in with all the force she could muster when she froze at a quiet, yet urgent voice.
"Gadget," Corduroy said.
Stubbornly, she kept her eyes closed, but she could hear the soft rustle of the fabric of his clothing as he walked around to stand in front of her. She didn't want to face him. She was doing this for him! Couldn't he understand? What did he want?!
"Gadget," he called again.
Finally, Gadget reluctantly opened her eyes, to find he was kneeling in front of her, eye-to-eye, and just watching her almost impassively. Only, due to their proximity, she could see the alarm in his eyes.
Moving with slowness and caution, he placed his hand over hers, and little by little, eased the blade out of her grasp.
His next words came only after he'd gently laid the weapon on the ground by his side, and he kept his gaze locked on her, holding her own gaze in place. "Talk to me."
It wasn't a command or even a request. Just a statement, but Gadget, surprisingly, wanted to comply, almost eagerly.
"Please," she begged, and she broke down. Her eyes fell down towards the ground, at her feet where she stared uselessly. "Please l-let me die," she sobbed.
For your sake, went the unsaid thought.
"No," Corduroy said simply, unwavering. "You are worth so much more than what they tell you," he told her, his voice lowering into something more soft. From the corner of Gadget's eye, she saw him lift his arm before she felt a finger tap against the center of her forehead. "You are worth more than what your mind tells you."
Gadget's mind reeled for a moment at his words, but stubbornness and a wildly irrational certainty insisted that nothing Corduroy said was right if it did not agree with her sentiment. She shook her head wildly and her hands shot out to grab onto Corduroy's outer jacket. And she fought with herself to push him away or not. "No," she whimpered, "I'm not."
"You are," Corduroy stated firmly. His hand gently tapped her chin, bringing her eyes up to look at him. And she could see the corner of his mouth twist up in a slight smile, though there was so much concern in his eyes that she didn't expect to see. It was so overwhelming in that instant, the allure of such emotion, aimed at her! But just as she felt the desire to reciprocate or appreciate Corduroy's concern, she saw, in her mind's eye, Corduroy's lifeless gaze, staring up into the sky of the arena, a cannon's boom echoing across the land, announcing his demise.
"No," Gadget said again, and her vision blurred with tears once more. "Th-they're dead, C-Corduroy," she sobbed out. "P-Peeta…"
All my fault, Gadget thought to herself. All my fault. This wasn't worth living through. What happened when she inevitably got Corduroy killed, too?
"So you want to kill yourself?" Corduroy asked gently. She felt him take her hand in his own, but she didn't bother to take it back. What was the point in trying?
"Not wanted to," Gadget replied in a dead, defeated tone. Her body sagged to the side on her knees, and her empty eyes flitted to the ground. "Want to."
Corduroy fell silent, and idly, Gadget wondered what he was thinking. Maybe he saw the point in her words. In everything Gadget was trying to say but couldn't. Maybe he would leave her here and let her take the knife back and try again.
"I want to die," Gadget whispered weakly. Tears slid down her face and she didn't bother to wipe them away. Both her hands remained at her sides, limply.
"And give up now?" Corduroy asked. "When you are so close to the end?" His hand squeezed hers.
"It doesn't matter," Gadget responded. "I'll die anyway," she choked out, spilling the words out in spite of her sobs. "B-Binary…or Clove…or Marvel…or Monkshood…th-they'll make sure of that."
She sniffed weakly. How could Panem find this entertaining!? Couldn't they see how pathetic she was!? Why were they letting her live this long? To give her some deranged sense of hope she didn't feel just to snatch it away?
"Ev-everyone keeps dying b-because of me," Gadget sobbed, and she dropped her head and pulled her hand free from Corduroy's to bury her head in her palms. Her guilt ached. Like an unstoppable hunger that clawed at the insides of her stomach.
People were dead because of her. She had murdered two people. People that wanted to go home and see their families again. No matter how strong they both were and…and how cruel they could have been, they still had dreams. And because of her, they would never dream again.
"Lace, Thresh, an-and now Kernel and Peeta," she said, her voice cracking as she got to Peeta's name, "they're dead bec-because of me!"
Gadget looked up from her hands. Her dead, red eyes stared at Corduroy as he sat, silent and listening. Why didn't he understand? Why couldn't he understand!? He wasn't nodding his head at her, wasn't offering a verbal agreement on everything she'd said thus far. What more compelling arguments did he want from her?
"They should be alive instead of me!"
Despair seeped deep into every bone. Not for the first time she wished she had stepped off her platform before the gong had rung. This would have all been avoided. Maybe Corduroy and Lace would have run off together after they saw her blown up into nothing but fragments of bone and blood. Maybe Peeta and Katniss would have reunited and still be alive.
Gadget wanted to die. So much. Everyone would've been better off without her. Without her, there would be no suit for Binary to take. Without her, she would never have…have done what she did to Thresh. She would never have butchered him so badly that he wheezed painfully. Sounds that she could never unhear. And without her, his eyes wouldn't have stared into her own as he died, accusing.
And Peeta…it replayed in her mind again and again. How the Harbinger's claws stretched out and ripped right through his abdomen. The way he looked at her and Corduroy as he yelled at them his final request. To run.
And then he was dead. It couldn't be real. But it was. Peeta was dead. Another one of her friends was dead. My fault.
She wished so much that they were still alive. That none of this had ever happened and…and they were all home in their districts, where everything was normal. Even if it meant that Gadget would have never met Corduroy, Peeta, and Lace.
"Gadget, listen to me," Corduroy said at last and she sniffled pathetically. Slowly, his hands took both of hers in his once more, holding her so gently it hurt. "Lace's death is not your fault."
That wasn't true. Gadget knew in her heart that it wasn't true. Her upset gaze, the furrow of her brow as she stared hard at him, and the downward curl of her lips said she was not convinced in the least.
"There is no logical way that it was your fault," Corduroy reaffirmed, and his hands held hers tighter before Gadget could pull away again. Corduroy didn't sigh, but he did something that looked close to it. "Lace made a foolish choice," he told her.
He tried to hide it, perhaps for her sake, but Gadget could not miss the pained expression. His eyes, which locked her gaze for some time, could not blanket the obvious grief. Just as she could not hide her thoughts and feelings from him, he was as vulnerable as she was in this moment, in this...open sharing between them, and it laid bare all their most raw selves that anyone would ever see. The shared emotions for a friend lost tore through them both, and in that instant, she could see how much turmoil Corduroy himself bore in silence.
Gadget dropped her head as her tears spilled, gazing down at her knees.
"That is not on you," he told her firmly. "The Careers would have found her regardless of you."
Gadget's head shot up and she looked at Corduroy with something akin to disbelief. He…he still didn't blame her for what happened to Lace?
"She started a fire at night," Corduroy said. "It was a beacon for the Careers."
He is…right, Gadget realized with some bitterness. Just like it drew her in…it drew in the Careers. Cato, and Clove, and Marina. It drew them in so that they could torture her. Guilt pressed down on her shoulders so suddenly. If she had died in the Bloodbath, then maybe Lace's death wouldn't have hurt so much. Maybe Clove wouldn't have tortured her like that. Distantly, Gadget doubted it. Clove was completely unhinged. She tortured Thresh for the sake of it. And…and who knows how she would've dragged it out? But that didn't change anything. She still…she still butchered him.
But if you'd died, then Marvel and Glimmer wouldn't have gone back, a thought whispered. Maybe they would've made Lace's death so much less painful.
"What happened to Peeta," Corduroy continued, even as Gadget's mind whirled, "could have happened to any of us." He let out a small, derisive sound that could've been a scoff or a short laugh, but Gadget didn't know for sure. "The odds were not in his favor."
I'm so sorry, Peeta. It shouldn't have been him. It never should have been him. Why, why, why did it have to be him!?
"I lost a friend yesterday, too," Corduroy said, "but there is nothing that could have changed that."
No! There must have been something I could've done! Gadget frantically thought to herself. She could have stood in the way of the claw and let the Harbinger kill her, instead. Then…Corduroy and Peeta would both be alive. They would have each other, and Gadget doubted it would take them long to forget about her.
"You are not responsible for Kernel and Thresh's choice and actions," Corduroy stated, and finally Gadget looked up at him again. "Clove would have dragged Thresh's death out just to torture you and him if you had not stepped in."
"I-" Gadget started to say.
"You gave him a mercy that the Careers would never have given," he interrupted. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. A comforting gesture that made Gadget want to believe him more than anything.
Her mind was at war with itself. She wanted to believe him so much. But she didn't know if she could. If she did. His words were so nice, but that didn't make them true.
"There was nothing you could have ever done for Kernel," Corduroy continued. "He was dead long before we found him and that…thing."
The Harbinger of Seneca Crane.
Gadget swallowed.
"Do not be irrational by taking on their deaths as your responsibility," Corduroy said, more gently than ever. His thumb rubbed soothing circles along the back of her hand, and Gadget could feel her heart jump to her throat.
She didn't know what to say. How could she repay the kindness Corduroy was showing her? Why was he being so kind to her? She didn't deserve it. She never would deserve it. But if Corduroy was certain about what he said…then…then maybe she could start and try to believe it, too.
Corduroy's fingers stopped and Gadget glanced down at their hands, where hers were clasped in his. He still held her so gently, but his every movement stopped. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand free in order to rub her arm as she looked back at him.
"Redirect those feelings of loathing to someone who deserves it," he told her. She couldn't make out the expression on his face. Any hint of a smile had gone, but the comfort had yet to flee.
She didn't know if it was callous to think that way. But she had a good idea of who Corduroy was thinking of. It didn't ease her. And it didn't change her mind. She knew what she was. She knew her worth. And Gadget knew that her worth was less than the dirt on her heels.
Is that what Corduroy did? Push his feelings of loathing onto someone else? Did he hold back to redirect any loathing he felt for her? The thought made her heart clench in agony at the thought. She didn't want that. The thought of her last friend hating her was too much. It was far too much.
Even after everything Clove had done to her, Gadget didn't hate her for it. Everything Clove did…Gadget knew she deserved it. Every bit of pain. Every strike of suffering. It was everything she deserved.
But Lace didn't deserve any of it. She suffered just for being her friend. Her ally. Someone that Gadget cared about. And Clove had torn it away. Tortured her while Gadget could do nothing but listen and watch. And she knew that all the pain Lace went through was because of her.
Lace was too good for this…for being my friend…why did she have to die? Why couldn't it be me!?
"Try your best not to dwell on things beyond your control," Corduroy continued to advise, and he looked deep into her eyes until she tried to blink and look away.
"I-it's…hard," Gadget replied honestly, "I don't th-think I can…"
"Tell me something, about Binary," he asked, a calculative look on his face, "something you have not yet mentioned to anyone, or in the interview."
Gadget's mind raced at this request, and her expression darkened ever so slightly before it gave way to more melancholy. But she understood why he was prompting her along this line of thought. And it was...unbelievably sly, but everything they did was televised, and while it probably might not make much difference this late in the Games, it certainly would make Binary more unpopular, and if there was even a slim chance of him getting sponsorships, it just might well dry up.
"I-I used to have…uhm…a compsogdon," Gadget said.
"The tortoise mouse?" Corduroy asked.
Gadget nodded. The compsogdons were some kind of hybrid between tortoises and rodents such as mice or hamsters. During the war, they were distributed among the districts. They were no larger than the size of one's palm and were considered fairly cute and friendly. But the threat came in the speed of their reproduction as soon as they consumed almost anything. To the resource-strained rebel districts, it was a dire peril that they had no ideal solution to. The creatures themselves provided very little nutritional value and were oddly resilient to most attacks.
In the end, a pair from Districts Ten and Eleven figured that the Capitol had some kind of control element that would nullify their reproductive capabilities once the districts had been starved out, and at great risk to themselves, stormed the Capitol and acquired samples of the 'cure', which was reverse engineered and spread to the compsogdon population. Enough of the creatures survived in the wild, that they remained a common sight in any district, as far as Gadget knew. A fair few people had them as pets, since they needed little care and could eat almost anything, even grass, meaning they rarely strained anybody's immediate supply of food.
"M-my school was running a pet campaign…" Gadget explained, "...something to…to k-keep our minds off of…the reaping. A-at the time...I-I…was so alone, and h-he…"
She looked down at her hands, she'd locked away the memory of Rolly after what Binary did. It had hurt worse than any direct injury to herself.
"What happened?" Corduroy gently pressed her, his thumbs unconsciously traced circles on the back of her hands.
"His n-n-name was Ro…Rolly," she said, "I-I…he was very cute, an-and sweet. But I only had him…f-fo-for a week! And then he was gone! B-because of Binary."
She all but spat his name out. Remembering this gave her enough venom for her district partner.
"He killed Rolly," Corduroy said, his tone conclusive.
Gadget nodded once. "H-he and his best…friend, Stattick, I-I think made Binary a drone, and they'd dropped s-some kind of a-acid or something on me. It hu-hurt…but nothing permanent. Rolly fell out of m-m-my pocket…Binary just smiled, then stepped on him until he died."
Gadget felt so ashamed for being so weak. Rolly was squealing and screaming in pain, but she couldn't fight through her own pain to stop Binary as he crushed her first pet. Rolly was looking right at her, paws stretching out towards her, practically calling out for her to rescue him or spare him of the pain. His shell offered some protection, but Binary's leg and full weight were too much for the tiny creature. Eventually, his squeals quieted when Binary's foot lurched downward and a loud crack was heard, his life taken so quickly, he could not even close his eyes. Blood pooling from his mouth and a split open shell.
She cried over Rolly's corpse for over a day before Flux had finally been called to recover her from there. The teachers had done nothing to stop Binary and Stattick throughout their attack, turning a blind eye to her anguish and heartbreak.
"I...he was my f-first...and only p-pet…n-never judged me…just…loved me…like I love-loved…" Gadget sobbed as she remembered the pain of the loss, "I couldn't save him! Just like I couldn't save Lace…I'm not worth anything!"
Her head snapped down as she silently cried. Dredging up the memory hurt far worse than she thought it would. The blank stare of Rolly was now intermixed with memories of Lace's blank stare, Jason's, Thresh's, and Cato's.
No matter what. She was responsible for them all. No matter what Corduroy said. He could not understand just how much of a threat she was to anyone's well-being just by being in her proximity.
Everyone around you dies. Especially if they love or even like you.
"Gadget, please," Corduroy said, and she looked up at him. His eyes were so earnest. "You are not worthless," he said, and it struck her so deeply at how he seemed to know what she was thinking. "You are my friend. Make sure you remember that."
He lifted his hand gingerly, and Gadget clasped her hand in it. She allowed herself a smile to cross her features. Her heart thumped against her chest, threatening to burst it open.
Then, she lurched forward, pulling her hands free from Corduroy's own. Her arms went wide and wrapped around his shoulders, pulling herself flush against him. "Thank you," she whispered, brokenly.
Gadget knew that she wasn't going to survive this. She didn't want to survive this. What would she do if she did? Nothing would change. Her dad-no, Zeno and her brothers would take everything she won away from her. They'd live comfortably in the mansion that every victor gets, and she would remain in the junkyard.
She had no one. She doubted even Syncis would help her. Gadget might have been his sister, but Zeno was his dad, too. What were they saying about her for their family interviews? No doubt they were anything but kind. Maybe Zeno would try to do damage control in order to stop her from getting sponsors. Not that it mattered, anyway. Not with the feast coming up and Seneca Crane withholding every sponsor anyone would get just for it.
How much had Zeno already lost? How much did he bet away on her death? How furious was he that she was still alive? Gadget wasn't sure if she wanted to know. And she was never going to know.
"N-no matter what," Gadget said, her head on Corduroy's shoulder, and she tried to hold back her tears, "I'll make sure y-you become the victor."
And that was it. Her motivations all lined up in the open for everyone to see. Gadget pulled back to look into Corduroy's eyes. There was an enigmatic look in them that she couldn't begin to decipher.
"Perhaps," he replied, cryptically. Without waiting for another word, Gadget pulled away and looked at the supplies that surrounded them.
"Th-thank you," Gadget said, rubbing her arm awkwardly as her eyes found her boots again, "for be-being there for me." It was the most she could ever thank someone for. She went over to where the thermal blanket remained and bent down to pick it up. Behind her, she heard Corduroy move about, followed by the telltale sound of sticks and branches being crushed.
With a look back, she saw the crackling of flames come to a slow end as Corduroy separated the fire into smaller sections to stomp out. Until nothing was left and they were both drenched in the dim illumination of the arena.
"As long as I am alive, I will be here for you," Corduroy said at last, and Gadget felt mist in her eyes again. She didn't deserve his loyalty. She hadn't done anything to deserve it. Lace flashed through her mind and Gadget felt her knees weaken from under her, threatening to send her sprawling to the ground. But she grabbed onto the nearest tree and let out a shaky breath. "We should get moving."
She wouldn't let Corduroy die. If something went wrong during the feast…she wouldn't let it happen. She couldn't let it happen. He deserved better than that. He deserved a better ally than her.
I'm sorry, Peeta. It never should have been you. Gadget sucked in another breath, and so much of her wished it would be the last breath she ever took. Her bandaged hand ran along the bark, her fingers digging into the crevices. How much longer was this Game going to last for? How much longer before Seneca Crane forced a finale and had someone win?
At least with Peeta, he and Corduroy would've had a better chance of winning. Now…now Gadget just weighed him down. Maybe that's why they didn't do anything to save me, a more sinister part of her thought. Maybe Corduroy doesn't need someone like me weighing him down.
"D-do you know where to go?" she asked with a glance over her shoulder, watching as Corduroy shoved a first aid kit into his backpack. Gadget hadn't been keeping track of the Cornucopia, much less the direction of where it was currently facing.
"Yes," Corduroy replied simply. He stood up, looping his arms through his backpack straps.
Gadget nodded. She didn't expect him to elaborate any further and she went over to her own backpack to put the thermal blanket back in. This night was probably among the worst ones. But then…every night seemed to get worse and worse than the last. And she'd barely been able to sleep. Peeta appeared in her mind's eye again. The claws cutting through him. The spurt of blood. His last look. And his yell for them to run.
And then he was dead.
Again and again, she apologized to Peeta in her head. It wasn't fair! It shouldn't have been him! But he was dead and she was still alive. Gadget glanced up at Corduroy as he walked around the perimeter of where they'd settled for the night. I won't let you die, she promised.
"Gadget."
Gadget turned, putting her backpack on as she did so. "Y-yeah?" she squeaked out. Corduroy glanced one last time into the forest before he walked over to her, pulling a knife out from his belt.
And then he slowly turned the knife around so that he was holding it by the blade, the handle extended out towards her. "This is yours," he said.
Gadget stared at the knife in his proffered hand. After what she had just tried to do, he was showing her so much trust. Trust that she wouldn't try again to do what she'd failed to do. To make it so that he was one step closer to winning. To make it so that she was out of the way completely, and he could take her supplies off of her corpse, and thrive with them. This was a show of trust that Gadget didn't think she deserved.
She reached out and took the knife handle from him, and Corduroy's hand fell away. "Thank you," she whispered.
"We are going to a place with too many tributes," Corduroy replied. "Without a weapon is a death sentence."
Gadget smiled if only a little bit. "Always pragmatic," she said quietly. If Corduroy heard her comment, he didn't say anything.
He started forward and Gadget was quick to follow on his heels. She wondered if he and Peeta tried to hide their tracks as she and Peeta had. Her heart clenched in pain at the thought.
Everyone was going to be at the feast. Of that, Gadget had no doubt. Everyone was going to be looking for some kind of advantage over who was left. And more importantly, an advantage over Binary. Gadget flicked her gaze to Corduroy and she wondered what the Gamemakers had supplied for him. Maybe…maybe enough things to help him go on his own. To allow him to leave her behind. The weight of her backpack, though, reminded her of how unlikely that was. He could've allowed her to follow through on what she wanted so desperately, but he stopped her.
Her hands wrapped around her torso in a hug. She sped up her walking until she was beside him. "Corduroy," she said, and everything else she wanted to say died in her throat.
"Yes, Gadget?" Corduroy asked, ever so polite. He looked at her and Gadget opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.
Shame flooded through her entire system. She'd had no reason to hide it from him, and yet she had regardless. She drew out her ideas into the dirt without letting either him or Peeta know what she was planning.
"I-I had an idea," she said, her arms tightening around her torso. Her throat was ever so dry. "When y-you and P-Peeta slept yesterday, I…"
Gadget shook her head. How pathetic could she be? Why was anyone rooting for her? Corduroy didn't show any physical reaction to Peeta's name, and she wondered, not for the first time, how he managed to keep himself so composed. Last night felt like the only time she had seen him break. Maybe the Games were getting to him just as badly as it was getting to her.
"I asked f-for parts to build a flamethrower," she revealed, digging her nails into her clothing. Part of her wished they could pierce her skin hard enough to make her bleed.
Corduroy hummed in thought. "I assume that is what will be in your backpack."
"I think so, too," Gadget agreed meekly. She darted her eyes away, down, down her gaze fell to the tip of her boots. It was the only thing that made sense to her. She didn't truly need anything. Not after she fled from the Cornucopia in the fallout of the Career Pack's implosion. Images of Glimmer and Marina's brutalized bodies flashed through her mind and she tried to shake them away.
"A flamethrower could nullify Binary's advantages," Corduroy reasoned, and he sounded truly impressed. "I do not think fire and electricity mix particularly well."
Gadget let out a small, almost incredulous laugh. "You think so?" she asked hopefully. "But I…I…this depends on if the s-sponsors gave me what I w-wanted," she reasoned. "And…if we c-can get them from the f-feast."
She'd seen feasts in other Games. They never were pleasant. A second Bloodbath in the making. And yet, here they were, walking right into one. But it wasn't like Seneca Crane gave her much of a choice. If she wanted to help to give Corduroy the chance to get out of here alive, she needed those sponsor materials. She had to correct the mistake she made, of building that damn suit.
"They want a show," Corduroy said, "a good one." Gadget could feel his eyes on her and she looked at him. "Fire is usually entertaining."
That was…true in the case of the Capitol. Peeta and Katniss were lit on fire during the parade, and the Capitol loved it then. It may not have been real fire, but it was a moot point. And even just yesterday, when Seneca Crane forced them to deal with…with the Harbinger by cornering them using so much fire.
"You'd tell me if you w-were a pyromaniac, r-right?" Gadget joked with a small smile that she wasn't sure if she meant. She wondered if Corduroy could see the pain in it.
If Corduroy responded, she didn't hear it. Her thoughts consumed her. Even if she managed to build the flamethrower she envisioned so clearly in her mind, there was no telling if she would get close enough to Binary to be able to use it. The moment he saw her, he could throw one of his mines at her and blow her up.
There might have been taboo about killing one's district partner, but that only extended as far as the other person caring enough to adhere to it. As far as Gadget knew, there were only two cases where it became…less of a problem to murder someone's district partner. And that was if it was a mercy kill, or…or they were the last two people left.
So many steps. And Gadget counted them all. Each and every one. It was the only way she could think of to calm her rapidly beating heart.
Ten thousand forty-two, ten thousand forty-three, ten thousand forty-four…
Her legs protested her every step. They'd been walking for far too long. But she refused to stop. They had to get to the feast. She didn't dare think of the ways Seneca Crane would punish them if they didn't make it in time.
Gadget took a sip out of their flask, the water splashing smoothly down her throat. The coldness of the water felt so good against how dry her throat was. They needed to preserve what they had in case they couldn't find a place to refill it. She wouldn't put it past Seneca Crane to drain all of the rivers. It would be an easy way to force a confrontation. Move everyone to the one place in the arena that still had water.
"There it is," Corduroy said suddenly and Gadget shook away her thoughts. They stopped and Gadget leaned against the nearest tree, idly handing the flask over to Corduroy. Of all the things she stole from the Cornucopia, another flask wasn't one of them.
Through the dim lighting, Gadget saw it. The Cornucopia was just ahead of them, in all its nightmarish glory. Standing proud in the center of the giant clearing.
This was where it all began. The place where nine people died. Where she faked her death. Where the Careers tortured her into doing their bidding. And where the Careers set up camp, with all of the supplies that hadn't been taken.
How could the circumstances change in such a short space of time? As she gazed around the dark clearing as best she could, she wondered if Binary was still there. Just because she couldn't see him didn't mean that he wasn't here.
Warily, she looked at the lumps of dirt that were scattered all over the ground. Marina and Glimmer's corpses were long gone. And, from the angle Gadget was looking at, so was any blood. The mines could have been moved since she ran from this…this place.
Gadget swallowed as terror built in her chest. She pushed herself off the tree and rubbed at her arm anxiously. "What d-do y-you wan-want to do?" she stammered nervously.
"I am thinking," Corduroy said. Gadget's dead eyes watched as his eyes bounced, looking between places in the Cornucopia. "What do you think?"
It was too much of a risk. Gadget was certain it was too much of a risk. The only things they were missing were weapons. Good ones. Something better. And something that they could use. And…despite the huge risk it presented, they couldn't go into the feast underprepared.
"I-it's a mistake," Gadget said weakly. "B-but we need better wea-weapons," she said. It was a risk. But wouldn't risk Corduroy's life.
"Binary clutches all the strings here," Corduroy said suddenly, and Gadget's sad eyes flicked to him. "He isn't arrogant enough to leave all of this completely unguarded."
"B-but," Gadget said quickly, awkwardly holding her hands together and glancing between Corduroy and the Cornucopia, "w-we need be-better weapons," she repeated.
If…if they were going into a feast, then she needed to get Corduroy a better weapon. Something he could use to defend himself. Like…a staff. One similar to the staff he used during training.
It was the best she could do for him. The best she could do to pay him back after everything. After she failed Lace. After she failed Peeta. All she needed to do was be brave. Just once. Just once and…and she could take out a few of Binary's mines. Clear a path for Corduroy to take a weapon.
"Do you plan on staying?" Corduroy asked. He looked at her with such an enigmatic gaze that she felt her skin heat up under it. "I do not." Gadget gazed down at her feet again. "Once we get our things, we need to go. There is no sense in remaining."
Gadget fiddled with the burnt edge of her jacket. "I just…" she trailed off. She wanted Corduroy to be safe. Feasts always ended with people dead. And she would be among them. She was weak. Stood no chance. "W-we won't…uhm…make it far without something better," she said lamely, gesturing with her shoulder at the Cornucopia. Her mind worked so quickly. "We c-can't take on Binary with these," she said, worry spilling into her tone as she grabbed the hilt of her knife sheathed in her belt.
Corduroy moved so suddenly that it surprised Gadget. She winced and instinctively prepared for a strike that would never come. Instead, she felt Corduroy's presence passed her by. And then she heard him lean against the same tree she had just pushed off of.
"You know the futility of going out there," Corduroy stated. It wasn't a question. It was an observation. "Please, Gadget," he said, and it was probably the closest she had heard him plead, "I know you better than that."
Gadget's heart slammed against her chest and skipped a beat. She spun on her heels and turned towards her friend. The only friend she still had. Her only living friend. And that thought felt like a punch to the gut.
"Okay," she said meekly. She began to drop her gaze when Corduroy's arm lifted, holding out his hand for her to take. A small smile appeared on her face and she reached out to take it.
Corduroy smiled back at her and he silently took the lead. They quietly moved in a wide circle around the Cornucopia, profiles low, eyes peeled against the dim late evening light, winds picked up very often, which masked movements in the tall grass more thoroughly. Good for them, but also good for anyone else that might be here…
Wait.
When did the grass near the Cornucopia get so tall?
Gadget looked around wildly. She was just behind Corduroy, but she now did not dare lose sight of him. With the way the grass was whipping around them and the way they made masking noise so effectively, she was afraid of being separated from him. She still didn't much care for her life, but she couldn't well be his personal meat shield if she lost track of him, now could she?
For a moment, Gadget feared that others might be close by too. Images of Clove just leaping out of the grass, gunning straight for her, flashed in her mind. Followed shortly by Marvel running her through before she could even see him. That was when she realized that even scent was being masked now. After two weeks in the arena, nobody was smelling pretty good, aside from impromptu baths in the river.
But a sweet scent filled the air, like a myriad of flowers somehow harmoniously filling the air with their natural perfumes. This would have been pleasant, if not for the fact that now, Gadget could barely see, could not hear, and could not smell any tributes approaching. What were the Gamemakers planning or arranging for them to do?
What had Ridley taught her about holding the knife? Gadget readjusted her fingers along the handle at the thought. If someone jumped out of the grass, she didn't know if she'd be able to defend herself or fight them off. Maybe…maybe she could against Finch, but everyone else was too far out of the realm of possibility.
Paranoia clung to her mind like a shadow. Her feet dragged along the ground, yet careful enough to make sure to mute any sounds she could cause. Ahead of her, she wondered if the same thing was going through Corduroy's head. The same warnings of paranoia and fears that ran through Gadget's.
It would be too risky to come back this way. This in itself was too risky. Not when anyone could be waiting for them, and waiting for the right time to make a move. If they had to flee, it needed to be somewhere else.
There was the tail-end of the Cornucopia. Gadget glanced at it and rubbed her sweaty hand against her outer jacket, ignoring the burnt singed pieces that fell away to the ground.
Steps continued on, and Gadget counted them as they went. With each one, they got closer to the feast. And with it, so too did the dangers that it held. Neither she nor Corduroy said a word as they walked. She was all too eager to get out of here. The Cornucopia was never a sign of safety, and she tried not to relive every little torturous moment that Clove made her go through.
Gadget and Corduroy turned as they went down a steep slope, planting their feet deliberately as they went, careful not to slip or stumble. And then, just as they passed through some stalks of tall grass, the wheat field came into view.
It was tall. Taller than the grass. Gadget tried to measure it in her mind. How long was it? Seven feet? Eight? It didn't matter. They were here and…
Gadget didn't want to do this. She wanted to run far, far away from here. But she didn't have a choice. What alternative would the Gamemakers give her? Force her to face the Harbinger all over again? Or something much worse?
Sponsor materials were somewhere in this field. Things that she needed if she were to complete the flamethrower. Was it worth it? Was it worth what she and Corduroy were about to face? The number of other tributes that would try to kill them for some of the same reasons that they were there in the first place.
Materials. Supplies.
A dozen or so feet away from them was an opening into the field. A place where the wheat didn't cover and provided them an easy entryway inside. And really, what other choice did they have? The winds whipped everything around, a few stalks of wheat bent to the might of the wind, and the sweet scent of flowers continued to permeate the whole place. The skies seemed slightly brighter, but only by so much.
Neither one of them moved. Gadget held her knife by the handle in a vice-like grip. As soon as they entered the wheat field, there was no telling what would happen. How would the Gamemakers provide their…their entertainment to the Capitol?
And there was never an announcement for when it started. From everything Gadget had seen from previous Games, it was always better to be early than late. Her frightened, dead eyes darted around, but she saw nothing but the wheat field that stretched on into the dim lighting, beyond the limits of her eyesight.
"What now?" Gadget asked nervously. She grabbed the burnt edges of her outer jacket with her free hand and fiddled with the knife in her other. What do we do?
"Now," Corduroy began with a pause, "we go in."
But he didn't move. He remained still, just where he was, looking into the opening of the wheat field. Gadget felt like she could barely breathe. There was no telling what the Gamemakers had planned for them inside there. Because no matter what happened, someone was going to die.
Her hand tightened around the hilt of her knife. She couldn't bear the thought of Corduroy dying. The image of his lifeless face entered her mind and it made her knees weaken. It couldn't happen! It couldn't!
"Gadget," Corduroy said softly and Gadget looked at him fearfully. She couldn't let him die. She won't let it happen. "Stay close."
Gadget nodded, the words in her throat dying. She wanted to tell him so many things, but she couldn't manage to get the words out. Images of Lace and Peeta flashed through her mind. Each one of them dead. They had both been in the Hunger Games together, but they had been friends to her. Showed her a kindness she didn't deserve. And she repaid that kindness by leading them to painful deaths.
She blew out a breath. It's not your fault, she thought to herself. That was what Corduroy told her. Tried to comfort her with. Tried to remind her and tell her that what happened to them wasn't her fault. But she didn't believe that. Those words felt false even in her own head.
Zeno had reminded her of all of her faults, enough for her to remember exactly what they were.
There were five other people still alive. Binary. Clove. Marvel. Monkshood. Finch. And each of them were going to be here. The consequences for not being there were…they were too great for them to not be here somewhere.
Gadget hadn't heard a sound come from the wheat field. Nothing but the stalks drifting in the wind. If they were all here, they were being utterly silent. No sound, no smell. The Gamemakers gave them no advantage in detecting others.
But, the same was conversely true for all the others too. And unlike her and Corduroy, the rest were all alone. Unless Monkshood managed to worm her way into an alliance with someone.
Corduroy started forward and Gadget followed as he did. They couldn't stand and deliberate their decision for long. If they did, then…then Seneca Crane would become impatient and do something much worse to them than what the feast could do. The very idea of it made Gadget shiver. How many more deranged ideas did the Gamemakers have? How could they diversify their torture in a way that entertained the Capitol? Gadget wasn't sure if she ever wanted to know.
They approached the opening to the wheat field and still, Gadget didn't hear anything. She saw Corduroy's shoulders tense and he unsheathed his own knife. Was he thinking the same thing she was? Did he notice that all this noise provided the perfect concealment?
Gadget hesitated but continued on after Corduroy. This is a mistake! Alarms screeched in her mind, but what could she do? They didn't have a choice. Whether or not Claudius or Seneca Crane presented it as a choice…it wasn't one. Not really.
Corduroy crossed the threshold into the wheat field, twisting his body so that his knife was pointed in the direction of wherever they were going. Claudius hadn't told them where their supplies would be. Of course, the Gamemakers wouldn't have made it so easy.
Suddenly, the wheat stalks moved. Gadget squeaked in surprise and took an instinctive step back, raising her knife to try to fight off any possible attacker. Corduroy spun around just as quickly as Gadget stepped back, and she could see plain alarm cross his features.
Then, before she could register what was happening, the wheat folded in front of her, covering the pathway. Gadget realized too late what the Gamemakers were trying to do.
They're separating us!
"No!" Gadget cried in a panic, running forward to push through the wheat to get to Corduroy. Her hands wrapped around so many individual strands and pulled them to the side as hard as she could.
But they didn't budge. Not an inch. Fear clenched her heart, sinking deep inside of her so thoroughly she could feel it in her bones. No, no, no, no!
It was as solid as a wall.
On the other side, she could barely see Corduroy as he moved about on his side. She didn't need a reminder of what happened the last time the two of them had been separated. This wasn't a part of her plan! Why hadn't she accounted for something like this!?
Gadget mentally kicked herself. Seneca Crane is trying to make you break your promise. She can't be assured of his survival if she couldn't find him or get to him!
She raised her knife and slashed against the stalks of wheat, to no avail. Not even a hint of a scratch showed on the shafts of the stalks she'd slashed, and she hadn't even been gentle about it. They remained unmoving. Almost mockingly as the tops swayed with the wind. Gadget bit her lip and dropped her head against the wheat like she was laying her head against a wall.
Getting to their supplies wasn't going to be easy. She had already known it wasn't going to be, but she hadn't planned on Gamemaker intervention like this. There would be no moving through the wheat. They were…they were set on some…some predetermined path that Seneca Crane made up for them.
"Dammit," Gadget muttered, dropping her knife hand to her side. It was hopeless. If Seneca Crane didn't want her to get through, she wasn't going to get through. It was that simple. It was that horrendous.
That cruel.
Her free hand rose and clasped one of the stalks in her grip. She could only barely see Corduroy beyond the wheat. There was no making out his expression, not while the mixture of the dim lighting and the wheat created an obstacle.
"Corduroy…" she trailed off, her voice thick with concern. "Are y-you okay?" Her dead eyes scanned the wall of wheat. She already knew the answer to her question, but she needed the confirmation.
"Yes," Corduroy said. "I have a path here," he revealed, "I think we both know what this means."
Gadget let out a shaky breath. "I know," she said weakly, releasing her hold on the stalks. Coded paths. And Seneca Crane was forcing them to take it. To advance whatever story he was trying to manufacture for the Capitol.
Between the cruelty of the Careers and…and Binary, it was easy to forget how diabolical Seneca Crane was. It was as he said during that interview. He cared most about the story of the Games, and that meant that he would create what he perceived as drama at any point that he wanted.
Binary, the Careers, and the mutts weren't the only monsters this arena held.
"I-I'll find you," Gadget promised, looking through the stalks at her friend, and she watched as he stepped closer to the stalks so that she could see him.
"Do not say it like this is goodbye," Corduroy said, and Gadget watched an enigmatic smile appear on his lips. "We will meet after this, facing whatever challenges come our way. You will-"
Gadget couldn't hear him, all too suddenly. Silence reigned and she heard not a word.
"Corduroy?" Gadget called as she strained through the whipping of the wheat stalks and the rustling winds to hear what else he meant to say. "CORDUROY!?" she tried yelling, risking giving away her location.
Nothing.
The Gamemakers were having nothing of it. The time for conversation and planning was over. Now, only action remained. Action, instinct, death. There was some violent shaking and movement to her right, and when Gadget turned to look, half-expecting someone or something to leap out at her, the stalks gave way, their movement graceful, smooth, yet eerie. It was obvious that this was her path, her given destination.
She chanced one last look where Corduroy was last, but could not see any hint of him, not with the wheat stalks now bunched together so firmly. She pressed her palm against the wall-like stalks and whispered, "I promise…"
Resolved, she adjusted her backpack, double-checked her grip on her knife, tapped her feet nervously a few times, and then began to march forward purposefully.
The space began to slowly widen, and she slowed down. Were the Gamemakers giving her space because there was a fight coming? It had to be, for sure. The winds were dying down, and the flowery scent that had been permeating the air was giving way to a crisp clear air. All the changes were screaming warnings into her head and she got ready for whatever was coming. Mutt or tribute, she tried telling herself that at this point, she only had Corduroy's victory to live for. It was all that mattered.
But she stepped through regardless.
One, two, three, four.
The silence was pervasive, the very moment she crossed the threshold. Eerily silent. No sound of the critters that had become a norm of the arena that Gadget had become used to. Now, there was nothing at all.
Then, before Gadget could even breathe, she heard something behind her and she whipped her head around in alarm. She could do nothing but watch as the wheat entrance she had passed through closed behind her, shafts of wheat sliding into place and shutting her inside.
There was no going back.
Gadget let out a shaky breath, brushing her sweaty hands on her pants. She looked ahead of her, the only place left that she could go. The narrow pathway ahead of her stretched on for far too long for her liking. A single corner that she couldn't see beyond and…and who knew what lay there?
Keep going, Gadget, she thought to herself. Five, six, seven, eight.
Where was everyone else? Why had the Gamemakers separated them like this? If they'd done so to her and Corduroy, then that meant that they'd done the same to the others.
Right?
She hesitated on her ninth step. Maybe the Gamemakers just separated her and Corduroy in order to make things more…interesting for their Capitol audience. She hated the very thought that crossed her mind and the possibilities that it was true. Someone could have heard her scream for Corduroy, and now they waited at that curve ahead of her.
There was no choice, though. She had to keep moving forward. It was the only way she would find Corduroy. And it was the only way that they'd get out of this wheat field alive.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen.
Grab the supplies, and get out. Gadget figured that would be easier said than done. Seneca Crane wanted a show…and Gadget feared what kind of show that would be. Was everyone else here, too? All of the living tributes? If what Claudius said was true, then it stood to reason that they would be. Otherwise…Seneca Crane would have them endure some other form of suffering.
She eyed the corner with paranoia. Everything was too quiet. It had gone from being too loud to too quiet in a matter of seconds. Not even the wind striking the wheat made so much as a noise.
Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
Closer and closer. Every step, every second, brought her closer to her demise. Was this the place in this awful arena where she was going to die? Feasts were never so kind as to end with no one dead. Whether it's forced by the Gamemakers or…or one of the other tributes.
She could remember the school project that revolved around the 38th Games. Sperren. The feast that Games had, and the brutality of it. That monster from District Nine killed so many people, and Gadget had retched when she had to watch it. Over and over again, all for that simple, stupid school project.
Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six.
Gadget slid to the right as far as she could, twisting her body around so that her knife was pointed at the corner. And then, with as much speed as she dared, she turned around, prepared to defend against whoever or whatever was on the other side.
A moment passed. Then another.
Nothing.
A breath of relief passed through her lips. Another moment of safety dragged on. But it wouldn't last. Gadget could see another corner, just ahead of her, that shifted the pathway to the right. She had no choice but to follow it. Her actions were being dictated entirely by Seneca Crane. He wanted her to move down this path, and she had a good idea why that was.
Seneca Crane dealt her a hand and Gadget had no choice but to play it.
Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five.
It was taking her deeper and deeper into the wheat field.
The odds were not in her favor, and though one might argue her having survived this long against all expectations (including her own) were surely good odds, she stubbornly refused to see it that way. There were winds overhead, but far milder compared to earlier, which served to conceal the sounds of other movements. Now she could feel only a faint breeze, but the clouds above billowed and shaped around overhead. The purplish-black sky would have been beautiful, if not for all the impending violence to ensue once more beneath it.
She continued her trek forwards, occasionally glancing towards the sky. The clouds were grey, but more due to the lighting condition. If it started to rain...she'd be miserable, but it wouldn't do much else at this point.
She heard the soft rustle or shuffle of the stalks of wheat behind her. While it was a great risk to do, she chose not to look back. The sight of stalks of wheat moving the way they do in the arena were uncanny and very, very unsettling. In the natural world, that simply wasn't possible, and she preferred to remember wheat as they were. She could do little about the ones ahead and beside her, however, as they too moved or adjusted themselves to either widen the passage or shift the direction she was to take. Never before had the Gamemakers and Seneca Crane been so direct in their controlling or steering.
But she supposed, with so few of them left, maybe she only now saw their direct hand.
Did they like her for some reason over others? Did Burgundy have something to do with her continued survival?
To her side, the stalks suddenly split down the middle, but only partway. Waist-high to herself, Gadget saw an opening, albeit a narrow one. If she were determined, and if she didn't think the Gamemakers would try something nasty like cut her in half, she could probably jump the stalks, though she doubted they wanted her to do that. It seemed more like they made a window for her. But for what purpose she didn't know.
Until Binary slowly walked past.
The boy paused, turned his head, and all Gadget saw was the pitch black and her reflection in his night vision goggles. In her mind, she could envision how he narrowed his eyes at her, and the thought made her swallow hard.
"Gadget," he said.
Unbidden, the memories of her conversation with Corduroy earlier in the 'day' played back through her mind. How Binary broke her arm, crushed Rolly to death, and crushed her foot when they reached the Capitol. How he so casually murdered Glimmer and Marina. The fear he incited in Clove, who until then, never once showed an ounce of fear.
"Where's Eight?" he asked, after receiving no response from the frozen Gadget.
Inwardly, Gadget cursed her inaction. The Gamemakers wanted something, and that was why they parted the windows. Taboo be damned, this was an opportunity and she was wasting it. But she just…couldn't. She made the suit and therefore knew its strengths, but more importantly, its flaws. Then again, her knife wasn't much use, nor did it have the reach, and she wasn't confident she could manage a throw at some of the few weak spots, exposed regions. Moreover, they wouldn't cause critical injuries. Perhaps she had been a little too good at her work.
"Separated, I suppose," Binary continued, seeing as the girl was nearly catatonic, "what a paradox you seem to be."
"Wh-what?" Gadget finally managed.
"Ah, so she speaks…" Binary replied, a toothy smile forming.
The smile, and her inability to see his eyes, made the expression all the more unnerving.
"I'm surprised you're even here," Binary said, his smile fading. "I thought you would've been too pathetic to even try."
Gadget gritted her teeth and clenched her hands. Even if she tried, there was no breaking through the suit. Creating it was a mistake. It was just…just a matter of how long would Binary toy with her before he decided to do something.
"Why are you here?" she asked suddenly, and internally, she was proud of herself for hiding just how afraid she really was. "Y-you have the Cornucopia! You don't need anything," she said, her mind working even as she said it.
Binary lifted his spear into view. Gadget didn't hear the thrum of electricity yet, so it wasn't on. But that didn't stop her from eyeing it warily. One stab of it, and one push of a button, and so many volts of electricity would enter into her and stop her heart.
She wondered if she'd hear her cannon fire before she even hit the ground. Before she died. But Binary wouldn't kill her until the taboo was no longer in place. And even then, Gadget wasn't sure. It was an unofficial rule that she had no idea if Binary would abide by.
"It's not obvious?" Binary asked with a scoff. He turned the spear around, holding it in both his hands. "So I can lower the tribute count."
A cold shiver ran down Gadget's spine. Clove and Marvel and the other Careers talked about murder so casually, but it was nothing like hearing her very own district partner discuss it like it was nothing. Nothing but a minor inconvenience.
"Then," Binary said with the closest thing to a blissful smile Gadget had ever seen on him, "I can go home."
I. Not you, Gadget thought, unsaid words that hung between them. Binary would be perfectly happy to leave her here in the arena to die. If she didn't die from something else…would Binary be the one to kill her? Did her district hate her for allying with someone from District Eight instead of someone from her own district? Did they hate her for not putting up with Binary's cruelty in the name of district unity? Gadget couldn't do that. Not after everything.
A sense of melancholy began to overtake her once more as she stood there, hearing his words. It wasn't like she was good at anything on her own. Away from Corduroy, she couldn't even keep her promise of ensuring he made it to the end. Binary had all the advantages now. It was all over, in reality. Nobody stood a chance against him. If Finch survived to the end, even for all her fleet-footedness, she'd be forced into a confrontation with him, and her chances of survival were slim to none against his bombs, weapons, and armor.
"Right…" Gadget said lamely, "...so wha-what are you…waiting around for?"
She noticed only belatedly that she'd been moved closer towards the 'window' between the stalks of wheat. The wall behind her had been slowly pushing her closer and in the same way, so had Binary. Both knew what this meant, but still, Gadget could tell Binary was weighing the consequences of breaking the unspoken, unofficial rule about killing your own district partner while other tributes remained. Taboo or not, if he decided to throw propriety to the wind, there was little Gadget could do to defend herself. Without trying to be obvious, she used her peripherals to see the only escape routes available to her. She could bolt to her right, and throwing herself to the ground was the only thing she could do to escape the greater reach of the shock staff.
"Remember what I said?" Binary said, "I'm here to lower the tribute count."
That was the only warning she'd received before the shock staff crackled and sizzled with an electrical charge, and he thrust it right at her neck. Only her anticipation of this result saved her life as she threw herself hard to the right, landing painfully on her arm. Scrambling away on all fours, Gadget narrowly escaped a second attack as Binary reached through the opening, aiming for her leg nearest to him.
A small noise made by him was the only sign of annoyance or frustration as Binary hastily withdrew his arm and the weapon. In hindsight, Gadget wondered if she could have reached for the staff and wrested it out of his hands. He was only using one hand, but there hadn't been time in the initial excitement.
Useless Gadget, she mentally chided herself.
If she'd grabbed it, she could give Corduroy a fighting advantage. The upside would be getting one over her long-time bully.
"Later, then," Binary said casually, "there are others here for me to deal with."
Despite his words, Gadget half-expected him to toss in a mine or blow open the stalks and finish the job.
And why should I make it easy for him? Gadget wondered to herself, Move! I need to get back to Corduroy. Don't speak aloud, don't give the Gamemakers something to work with or use against me.
Or worse, against Corduroy.
Pushing herself back to her feet, she backed away from the opening and moved towards the only path left open, also keeping her eyes on the wall where Binary would be, in case the Gamemakers decided to provoke another encounter with her fellow district tribute. So far, her limited, fickle luck held out. Neither Binary nor the Gamemakers made any further attempts on her life. So she took a risk and turned her back to focus on what's in front of her.
It was fairly easy following the path. Occasionally she'd have to take a turn to the right or the left, with no options or deviations, and she was becoming increasingly skeptical…and paranoid.
This feast, could it just be a slaughter? Maybe they'd already chosen Binary or someone else as a winner. The rest were just fodder to be finished off.
Gadget shuddered as she moved, glancing back a few more times in the direction of where Binary was. He had mines, but he wasn't using them. Wouldn't it be all too easy to destroy the wheat stalks with them? Create a pathway of his own that he could maneuver through? Perhaps he thought the same thing Gadget was. Obey the Gamemakers…or face some horrific consequences.
He'd just tried to kill her. He'd thrown out the consequences of the taboo and tried to kill her. The thought made her knees wobble and she had to catch herself on the wall of wheat. Having a district partner was supposed to mean safety! Someone that she could trust! But Binary was far, far away from that comfort. He…he tried to kill her, just like that.
Another corner came and went as Gadget went through the field, preparing herself for the inevitability of needing to run as fast as she possibly could. Whether it be from whatever mutt Seneca Crane sent after her…or another tribute.
How much further were they going to force her to go? Retreating in a place like this was not an option. Where would she even go if she tried? Gadget glanced at the long wheat walls and dismissed the idea of climbing on top of them. Seneca Crane could strike her down with something terrible if she tried. Lightning, or a fireball, or something else equally as terrible. It was hard to remember that he had full control of the arena. Of her surroundings. He could do whatever he wanted to her if he truly wanted.
He could kill whoever he wanted at a moment's notice.
And it was all too easy to disobey or do anything Seneca Crane or the Capitol didn't like. Gadget could remember being forced to watch the 73rd Games. Some…arena that looked like it was made of food. Candy and things she had never tasted before in her life, and never would taste. It was so very bright. Crimson and colorful. And wrong. Seneca Crane wiped out a trio of tributes with some mutts that gave Gadget nightmares for days after she'd watched it.
They'd died because they refused to move.
The pathway pulled in to the right and Gadget followed it with immense distrust. How far was she going to be pulled along? But those thoughts dwindled as she turned, and she saw a clearing just a few feet away. And there, on a small table, was a backpack with the number three on it.
She hesitated. Was that all there was to it? Get the bag? Go?
It all seemed too easy. Her only encounter had been with Binary, and not even the Gamemakers bothered to push her further into that. Seneca Crane wouldn't be so merciful, and it was with that thought that had made her utterly still. Her knife was raised, and her arm rubbed her other nervously.
But what choice did she have other than to go forward? Seneca Crane closes the entrance she had come from, so…so this was her only option.
Nothing but forward. Straight ahead.
Gadget stepped onward, flicking her dead eyes to and fro, waiting for something to jump out at her from between the stalks.
Alarm bells rang so loudly in her ears, but she knew that she couldn't stop. Coming here was a mistake. Whatever consequences Seneca Crane would have thrown at her, it had to have been better than risking everything here.
Another pack, in addition to the one she had. But she couldn't afford to leave anything behind. Everything was of value and use in the Games. After one hesitant step, then another, and another, she finally stood before the table with nothing untoward happening to her.
…yet.
With an unsure breath, Gadget quickly unslung her first backpack and grabbed the one on the table, unzipping the top in one quick movement. She wasn't sure what to expect. If it was a trap that the Gamemakers concocted. One last feeding of hope before the opening of the bag triggered something horrible.
But there was nothing like that. Only the pieces of machinery that Gadget had asked for. And at the top, just below the surface of the outer layer of fabric, was a note. Something so benign that made all air escape her lungs.
Gadget reached in and grabbed it, flipping it between her fingertips as she read it. 'You're so close now. Build something incredible.' And, just like the last note she read from him, it was signed by Beetee's initials.
It was barely anything at all, but a smile crept up Gadget's face. He was still rooting for her. He hadn't given up on her and…and she wanted to thank him over and over for it. For believing in her. No one else did, and Gadget couldn't bring herself to. Part of her had convinced herself that she had run out of sponsors. That Beetee and Wiress had given up on her.
She gazed into the bag and her smile became just a little bit more hopeful. Her fingers ran along the length of a piece of metal. This was everything she asked for. Everything she'd hoped for. It would be enough to build that flamethrower and counter what she could against what she had created.
Gadget crouched down and unzipped her other backpack. If all else went wrong, she needed her most important materials together in one place, in case she was forced to forgo the other backpack. She moved the fuel canister into the same backpack as her new possessions, and whatever else she feared that she couldn't go without.
She eyed the way she'd come in from with uncertainty. It was her only way out, and it led to a dead end. Her mind worked as she tried to think, but there had been no other places for her to go when she had come here. Idly, she zipped up her backpack and slung it onto her back.
With one last glance at her other backpack, indecisive, before steeling her resolve and zipping it shut. It was far past the time to find Corduroy. She took the backpack and wrapped the straps over her left arm, turning it into a makeshift shield, but also ensuring she wasn't leaving anything behind. It was bulky on her arm and made balancing a little tricky, but the upside was she now had some meager protection on her arm, and she still had a knife at least.
There was loud rustling and movement around her. The wheat stalks were beating and shifting violently. Frantically, Gadget gazed around as the wheat changed before her eyes. An opening formed in front of her, similar to what had appeared when she had first entered this place.
To her left and right was the same. Three openings into the field. Frantically, Gadget eyed each one, and then looked back at the pathway she had come from, only to be met by another wall of wheat stalks. A cold shiver ran down her spine, paralyzing her with fear.
They…the challenge wasn't getting to our things, Gadget realized with horror. It's getting out.
Placing one hand on the table, Gadget pondered over the sudden choice she was presented with. Each one more than likely promised misery, terror, and pain. Staying still was probably not going to be a long-term option that would be available for her. The Gamemakers would…
"AH!" Gadget's hand snapped away from the table when she felt an intense burning sensation.
Spinning around and backing up at the same time, Gadget stared at a slowly advancing white fog. Several tendrils reached out towards her, almost like a living thing. The back of her left hand now sported painful blisters and welts that had a purplish-red hue. It was poisonous! And definitely lethal, if Gadget had to guess. Her time was up. As if knowing her thoughts, the fog blew forward on a light breeze and Gadget cried out again.
It stretched out towards her, like a hand that craved to grasp onto something…or someone. Gadget didn't have time to think. She needed to go. Now!
Somewhere another piercing shriek belonging to a girl resounded in the air, one full of pain and agony. The others were being attacked by this fog too, and they quickly learned not to touch it. Were the Gamemakers going to keep this up until someone died? They'd done it before in previous Games. In the 72nd, they'd had a heavy tornado that flew around an arena, waiting until finally one of the tributes was flung into the air before it disappeared.
Gadget turned and she picked one of the three openings and dashed forward. The path closed behind her almost the instant she crossed the threshold, but the fog continued to pursue her. She idly noted the unnatural wheat stalks were not affected by the toxins of the fog, not that it did her much good to know this.
Please…please, Gadget begged to herself. If any cannons sounded…there was no telling who it would be. Corduroy's cannon could fire and she would have no way of knowing until that night. She cursed the Gamemakers and Seneca Crane's cruelty. Hadn't they been through enough!?
Paths opened as she moved along, she had to make so many turns in a state of panic with the white cloud billowing menacingly on her heels, that she could not remember which way she'd taken or if she was being led in circles. She didn't have time to catch her breath or rest. Every path she crossed into, the fog persisted, pushing her further and further.
This feast…it wasn't just what Gadget had thought it would be. The Gamemakers had turned the wheat field into a maze. If there was a way out, it was impossible to know. The stalks, or rather, the walls, kept shifting. The Gamemakers could keep her trapped here indefinitely. Seneca Crane could keep her here for as long as he wanted. Did the Capitol enjoy her squeaks of pain? Her whimpering cries?
Obviously, they wished for some people to die. But how many before they'd release the remainder?
Or was this to be the end? No…no, there were likely a few more events. But Gadget was tiring and the fog was relentless.
She clutched her injured hand close to her chest. It stung so painfully, but it reminded her to not stop. Because if she slowed down, then the fog would consume her totally. Encase her in poison that would be beyond any pain she could imagine.
Another fork appeared, giving her two choices, but Gadget had no time to pause or think. She just ran towards the right and forced her aching legs to keep going. How much longer was she going to go for? Her feet stomped on the ground, the dirt crushing beneath her heels as she ran. Sweat appeared on her brow and at her temples, and she had to adjust herself to the weight of the backpack on her arm.
She couldn't die! Gadget realized, almost startlingly, that she didn't want to die. I don't want to die! she thought in despair, the thought rattling around in her mind so heavily that it made her want to scream.
The Gamemakers were leading her somewhere. It was the only explanation that made sense. Her panic-stricken mind was a jumbled mess, but she knew what was about to happen. Seneca Crane was going to force her into another confrontation, perfect for what was going to become a second Bloodbath.
Gadget couldn't think straight, not with the fog right at her back, flowing through this maze - like a current of electricity. Her muscles protested as her boots hit the ground, and she twisted herself down another pathway. She hurt so much, she could feel her heart in her throat.
Then she stopped.
She had made it at least a few yards before she finally noticed that the fog was no longer chasing her. It looked like it had hit a wall that it couldn't breach. Relief flooded Gadget and she dropped forward, placing her hands on her knees as she heaved and panted in an attempt to catch her breath.
They…stopped it, Gadget thought. She swallowed her dry throat, her breaths sounding out through the maze, and she nearly collapsed. She couldn't stay here. She wouldn't stay here. Seneca Crane could unleash the fog again as punishment for not moving.
Gadget opened the pack on her arm and withdrew a small wad of bandages. Tears plucked at the corner of her eyes, but she sniffed and tried to hold back as the searing pain in the back of her hand dug deeper and deeper. She quickly pulled the bandages apart and wrapped them around her hand, pulling off the ruined bandages that were already there and split open from the fog.
Hissing and wincing, she wrapped up the welts in a new bandage. It stung so badly. So horribly. And there was nothing she could do but endure.
Gadget pushed the wad back into her backpack and closed it up again. Then, as she wiped her eyes with the back of her other hand, she pulled the backpack back up onto her arm. It was time to go. Gadget wasn't willing to risk staying put for longer than a few seconds. If this was a feast, then the Capitol wanted action. And, lest they unleash the fog again, Gadget followed the path that opened up for her.
How likely was it for the maze to reopen in order to let other tributes pass through? Or to allow her to double back? Gadget wondered if she would even be able to tell with the constant shifting and changing of shape.
She glanced back at where she had come from as she walked, nervously preparing for the fog to return. They should never have come here. She and Corduroy should have stayed back. Suffer the consequences of whatever mutt Seneca Crane sent their way. Maybe…maybe they could survive it together.
What about the Harbinger? a part of Gadget thought. Face the mutt that killed Peeta all over again. And die to it. Because in all reality, there was no way she would be able to survive it. But she could help Corduroy survive.
She missed Lace. She missed Peeta. It should have been her instead of them. They didn't deserve anything of what happened to them. It never should have been them that died. Her knees almost buckled at the thought and she had to catch herself on the wheat before she collapsed.
Her hand burned from underneath the bandages, but Gadget pressed onwards on wobbly feet. Was it luck that she hadn't run into a dead end or was it something else completely? She didn't know. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
Where was she supposed to go!? Gadget had no idea. Corduroy could be anywhere in this maze. That fog could have separated them and…maybe that was exactly what Seneca Crane wanted. Put more of a distance between them so that the Capitol had a more thrilling show.
Another corner and Gadget weakly slipped around it, then blinked in confusion as she saw what was in front of her. The rest of the maze had been straight and sharp turns for the most part. But this place was…curved. With a bend that she couldn't see past.
Anxiety flared inside her, stacked upon her already frayed nerves and fears. She pulled her knife from her belt and began to walk forward slowly. There was no turning back unless she wanted to risk the fog. This was the only thing she could do. The curve of the wall went and went, hiding whatever was on the other side.
Her steps were soft on the ground, slowly pushing forward. She wasn't the only one in this maze. At any second, someone else could jump out at her and try to kill her. Gadget was so far from safety. It would be so easy to die here. And there was no doubt that Clove and Marvel were here somewhere. Clove's promises of pain rang in her mind like a bell.
Death was around every corner. It would take less than a second. Cold fear dribbled down Gadget's back. Her dry throat felt like it was on fire.
"I-I can't…" Gadget heard a strained female voice say. No one she recognized the voice of. Neither Monkshood nor Clove, which meant that…
Her train of thought trailed off as she took a few tentative steps out, and she saw it was Finch, currently on all fours, her body heaving, and was that steam coming off her back?
The redhead had a long knife clutched in her right hand. The blade was one and a half times longer than the one Gadget had.
"It hurts, that's why!" Finch bit out angrily.
Gadget looked around, frowning. Who was Finch talking to?
"What? Where?" Finch demanded, looking to her left, and then she looked up, noticing Gadget. She shot to her feet and stared intently at Gadget. Piercing amber eyes met dead green for a long time,
There was no way, nowhere for Gadget to go to. Retreat and be trapped by the fog, and die whatever painful death it had in store for her. Or continue forward with Finch blocking the way. But…but…
Gadget eyed the angry red lesions that decorated Finch's body. Her hand, her neck, and Gadget suspected that it was even more severe than what she could see. Chances were that she was the one that Gadget had heard screaming only a few minutes ago.
Where was the fog that chased Finch? If it had cornered both her and Gadget together, then where could they go? Would the Gamemakers open up another path? Did…did they want them to kill each other for that path to appear?
Killer, Clove's voice said in her head.
Unbidden, the memories of Cato's face, then Thresh. She directly and outright killed those two. The faces of Lace, Peeta, and Kernel appeared in her mind. She indirectly killed them in lieu of them associating with her. She brought death.
But she had been forced into every situation that led to her killing. If thrown into a trap and left with someone, like Finch, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not that she had even a remote chance. Finch had obviously survived well enough. Her brazen attempts to steal from the Careers while they were all in the Cornucopia was both the height of insanity as well as unspeakable boldness.
Or just plain desperation.
Does talking to herself not show signs of a mental breakdown? Gadget closed her eyes. I wasn't any better…
When she reopened her eyes, it was to find Finch holding her knife up, in her direction, but she hadn't moved yet.
"She's got a knife too, can't you see that?" Finch said with a strained effort.
Gadget unconsciously leaned forward and Finch snapped her head over at her.
"STAY BACK!" she ordered coldly. "Watch her."
She started pacing, looking at the wheat stalks from top to bottom, muttering to herself. Experimentally, Gadget took one step to the right when Finch's back was completely turned to her.
Finch didn't turn around or react. Though she did a moment later.
"What did you just try?" Finch demanded.
"N-nothing…I'm st-standing here," Gadget replied.
"But you moved, didn't you?"
How could Finch know that? Was there really someone that only she could see and hear communicating?
"You stay pu-what? No. No! Not yet." Finch was looking at someone to her left.
Gadget saw empty air.
"F-Finch?" Gadget said, drawing the redhead's attention to herself. "I d-don't want to fight y-you."
"Yeah," Finch seemed to be answering her invisible companion, "that's what they always say."
Gadget's foot slid backward slowly, preparing herself to run. She didn't know where to go, or even if she could go somewhere except straight ahead.
Finch's head snapped to the side, her eyes darting down to Gadget's foot. Then they darted to the backpack on her arm. And before Gadget could do anything, Finch leapt forward with surprising speed, extending her knife, but lowering it at the same time.
Gadget gasped and she went backward, her feet almost stumbling over themselves as she tried to turn around and go back the way she had come. Every one of her instincts screamed for her to run, to find a way out of this place and-
"AGH!" Gadget screamed in pure agony. Pain lashed up her leg, through her waist and chest, her arms, and through the very tips of her fingers. "Ah!" It hurt so bad! Like fire that licked the insides of her ankle.
When had she fallen down? Gadget's fingers curled into the dirt and she glanced back at her foot with tears in her eyes. A metallic clamp that most definitely had not been there a moment ago had sunk its teeth deep into her boot and into her skin.
No, no!
"Augh!" she grunted, pulling herself up into a sitting position, and her hands shook with so much pain. So much pain. She had to get free! Now!
But it hurt so bad. Every twist of her foot dug those spikes through her ankle even worse. Finch had slowed down, but she didn't say anything. Gadget didn't want to look. Her arm tightened around her backpack strap and she reached forward to grab the clasp as best as she could.
"Stop," Finch said raspily and Gadget finally looked up at her. She swore she could see something akin to sympathy in Finch's eyes before it was replaced with incredible focus. "Give me that," she said, pointing with her knife at the backpack on Gadget's arm.
Gadget whimpered in dismay. She gritted her teeth as another wave of pain washed through her and she couldn't stop the squeak that fled her. Almost all of her supplies were in the backpack on her arm. Everything she needed in order to survive and…and help Corduroy survive.
This felt so familiar. So familiar to her second day in the arena, when Monkshood took so much of what she'd gathered from the Cornucopia.
"Please…" Gadget begged uselessly. Her whole body ached. And her foot…it hadn't lessened at all. It still throbbed and she feared even the slightest movement would send it flaming again.
"No," Finch hissed, her eyes looking away for barely a moment like she was talking to someone else. Then, she sprung forward onto Gadget, taking her by surprise as she was thrown back to the ground, the back of her head almost bouncing off the dirt.
"No!" Gadget cried. She pushed against Finch's chest, but the other girl had straddled her and gripped her backpack strap hard in her hand, and started to pull. Finch's double-edged knife was held aloft in her free hand like it was forgotten.
Finch's hand slammed forward against Gadget's mouth, pushing her head back into the ground. Her other hand stabbed her knife into the dirt beside them and scrambled for the backpack. Gadget couldn't move! She couldn't stop her!
Pain reverberated up her body from her foot and she pushed against Finch with a pathetic cry. The backpack was wound tightly, firmly, to her left forearm and Finch seemed to be far more focused on trying to get it than actually attacking. It was her only reprieve.
Gadget's fist collided with Finch's side, but the blow didn't seem to phase her in the slightest. "Give me it!" Finch pleaded.
"Stop!" Gadget cried back, her voice muffled under Finch's hand, and she pushed harder against her, throwing Gadget's head against the dirt and to the side so that she could only see Finch from her peripherals.
"No. I won't," Finch said, but Gadget didn't know if it was directed towards her or whatever trick Seneca Crane threw at her.
Because his interference was the only thing that made sense. It was the only way Finch would know that Gadget had moved when she wasn't looking at her. But she buried the thought. It wouldn't save her. Not as she tried to weakly punch Finch's side again.
"Let go!" Finch said, this time far more threatening than her last plea. She moved and thrust her knee into Gadget's stomach.
"Ah!" Gadget gasped, her mouth opening as the pain crashed against her senses like volts of electricity. One of Finch's digits slipped into her mouth and before she could convince herself otherwise, she bit down hard.
This time it was Finch's turn to cry out. The hand yanking at the backpack stilled and her knee came off of Gadget's stomach. It didn't provide Gadget any relief, and she squeezed her teeth down harder on the skin of Finch's finger until she could taste something metallic on her tongue.
Blood.
Gadget's free hand searched for something, anything that would help her. And finally, her fingers attached themselves to the hilt of her knife that she had dropped at some point in the panic.
She didn't have a choice.
Gadget swung the knife as hard as she could for Finch's thigh, and she felt with immense horror as it sunk deep into the other girl's flesh, tearing through muscle and skin.
The sensation was so much like what she had done to Thresh. And it was something she never wanted to experience ever again. Not as the blade sunk deep into the other girl.
"AH!" Finch screamed. She slid off of Gadget with a cry, stumbling as she went, clearly favoring her unharmed leg over the other. Delicately, almost experimentally, she grabbed the handle of the knife and gave a terrible wince.
Gadget watched with a churning in her gut. The blood from Finch's finger stained the insides of her mouth. She felt like a monster. Finch only wanted the supplies. Supplies that would help her live.
She won't help Corduroy survive. Especially not now, the way she is.
Finch stepped backward on what Gadget could tell were wobbly knees. She'd been on them herself to know what they looked like. But now wasn't the time! She had to get up! Now!
The steel of the clamp dug into her foot so badly. Shivers of torment ran up and down her skin. She needed to get off here before-
The Capitol's anthem rang out through the wheat field, stopping Gadget in her tracks. Up in the sky, the Capitol seal shone brightly and proudly.
I…I didn't know…
So much time had passed and Gadget hadn't even realized it. Everything felt like a blur. How long had Corduroy and her been walking to this place for? Gadget decided that it didn't matter. It changed nothing. As the Capitol seal faded away, it was only then that she realized that it distracted her from Finch.
Because she, too, was gone.
