Chapter 22

Tuna looks back and forth between us and the explosive.

I don't know why she hesitates. Perhaps she realises what a crime it is to snuff out such a talented, beautiful individual. Or maybe she is remembering her school-years with Rob.

She makes her decision and takes a deep breath.

Tuna speaks, as though to an audience.

"I'm sorry, friends at home. Please forgive me."

She pulls the pin.

Rob and I scramble to clamber out. Leaves, sticks and dirt are dislodged under our hands. It's no use.

Something zips through the air over our heads.

The dart sticks in Tuna's neck. Her eyes glaze even more and she slowly falls backwards.

"Take cover!" Shouts Rob.

I do as he says, hunkering down in the pit, with my arms shielding my head. Not a split-second later, the grenade explodes.

I almost relax, before several more blasts rock the park – the explosives in Tuna's pack. The impact flattens us against the earth. My leather armour becomes scolding hot and I burn my fingers on the buckles, as I hastily remove it.

Shrapnel pelts us – clods of grass, flaming leaves and less appealing, organic debris. We cover our faces and press ourselves against the side of the hole, which absorbs enough of the blast to keep us alive.

When the deafening blasts are finally reduced to a ringing in my ears, Rob and I are left breathing heavily.

We cautiously poke our heads up, to see Tuna's charred remains. They are scattered around, in patches of smouldering grass.

I hoist myself out of the hole and haul Rob out by the hand. He collapses on the grass next to me.

Both of us are horribly burned. Blisters have covered our faces, and my skin hurts where my clothes rub against it. The only natural solution is to strip off. I let the cool night air soothe my burns, and hope Rob follows my lead.

"Where did that dart come from?" I wonder.

"Dunno…" Says Rob, "But we haven't been attacked yet. I reckon we were saved."

"By who?"

"Maybe the Capitol? They really wanna keep you alive, man."

Rob and I lie exhausted on the grass. We take time to process what just happened, and to grimace at our injuries.

The Capitol anthem plays as the sky glows with the faces of today's fallen tributes.

Sugar from One, Greg from Two, Tuna from Four. Rob blinks tears from his eyes. Minx and Mace appear last, before the sky reverts to black.

We rest in silence for a while.

When Rob eventually speaks, he is more solemn than I have ever heard him.

"Makes you think, doesn't it?" He says, "It's so different here to at home. There's no sea. No parrot-fish flopping about, delivering letters. I've never been away from my family and friends this long."

Does this mean I'm finally more than a friend?

"Even the sky is fake, probably." Rob continues, "You see that constellation, up there?" He points at an indistinct line of stars, "That's the Little Gulper Eel. We use it to navigate, when we're out at sea."

"I bet they're just LEDs, here." I point out.

"Still pretty, though." Rob admits.

Entranced, I roll onto my side to look at him.

"Have you seen any other Midnights you think are pretty?" I ask, smoothly.

"Yeah." Rob sighs, "You can't beat a late-night swim in the Prohibited Pond at Hogwaters."

I roll onto my back, disappointed.

Suddenly Rob sits upright.

"Salted squid-rings!" He exclaims, "We only have until midnight before the bomb blows up our stuff!"

I sit up just as quickly. Blood rushes from my head and my burns hurt more than ever.

Rob crawls over to Minx's body.

He says, "Lucky we didn't leave the park, or the Capitol would've taken her body by now."

He searches Minx's pockets, getting his hands bloody in the process. All he discovers is a blood-stained slip of paper.

Rob holds it up to the moonlight.

He reads, "LMAO. You stupid apes! You think I'd have the key? I'm not stupid. I know you'll go for me first."

"So that means Tuna has it?" I say.

We look at Tuna's grisly remains.

Explosions: Good for barbequed Tuna. Not for preserving keys.

Rob says, "Midnight, please don't think badly of me, my dude… But I'm not brave enough to search for the key. She was my classmate."

I gulp. I am brave.

I hobble over to the seared clumps of flesh that used to be a teenaged girl.

In a smouldering patch of remains, I spot a glint of silver. The key is warped beyond use. Part of it has melded with Tuna's skin.

The stench is terrible.

I throw up. This is the hovercraft's problem, not mine.

Wandering back to Rob, I say, "We're not getting that key."

"Then we'll have to move what we can to a new base." He replies.

"Owww…" I whine, "I can't carry things like this; I need medicine!"

Rob and I look up at the sky expectantly, hoping for a delivery, like what Greg got from his sponsors.

When nothing comes, Rob says, "It's ok, man. We can do one trip – just grab as much as we can, you down?"

"Okay. I guess."

I retrieve my sword and help Rob to his feet, being careful not to pop any of my blisters. He leans on me as we walk back to our base. His broken ankle slows us down immensely.

Not to mention the fact that we get lost several times.

I would usually be more distracted, with Rob's arm around me. But the shining red burns on his face make it hard to think about kissing him.

If I weren't injured myself, I would be able to carry him with ease. But the burns ruining my once-gorgeous face have crippled my confidence so much, I don't think I could lift him at all now. I'll be picking bits of dirt and melted football net out of my hair for weeks.

"Looks like the Bros' Alliance isn't doing so sweet right now, huh?" Says Rob.

"We'll pull through." I say, "After all, we still have brawn and brains on our side. And you're pretty useful as well."

We return to our base, soon to be a pile of rubble.

If Minx's explosives did this much damage to us, I can't imagine what they'll do to our gasoline-soaked supplies. I wonder how many mines she has armed in that box?

Rob slumps on an oil-covered sofa.

"Let's see…" He murmurs, "We should bring water. We don't know where else to get any."

"There must be some around." I say, "The other tributes are still alive."

"But we don't know where to find it yet. Let's bring a few bottles for the meantime. And weapons. I need a new trident, since Tuna got mine blown up."

I inspect my own sword to check for any damage that the explosions may have inflicted. I am disappointed to see that the sheath has melted a little, making the sword tricky to remove. I had too much faith in Capitol technology. Luckily, the sword itself is undamaged.

I put some non-perishable food and bottled water in a backpack, while Rob acquires a new trident from a pile next to him.

I say, "This is all I can carry, since I'll be helping you walk."

Rob says, "Yep, same here. Guess this is it then."

"What? All you have is a trident."

"Nah, brah. Don't forget about our tokens. They're important for our morale, am I right?"

I could kick myself. How could I leave my PS6 to be blown to smithereens?!

After trying to stuff the console and controllers into my pack, I realise that things are more dire than I had thought. It seems I have no choice.

I say, "It's no use. We'll have to leave the food and water."

Rob nods in solemn agreement.

I replace the contents of my pack with my token and swing it onto my back. Rob hefts his surfboard under one arm, leaning on me with the other. I end up having to carry his trident.

With that, we say our goodbyes to the place we had just began to call home.

"Where to?" I ask.

I'm already struggling with my injuries and luggage, though we have just stepped outside.

Rob answers, "I say we find somewhere nearby, to rest for the night. Then we can get moving to a more secure place in the morning."

"Sounds good."

We end up settling for the building on the other side of the courtyard. It doesn't look particularly secure, as most of it has been annihilated by what I can only assume was an explosion, a hundred times more powerful than what Minx was playing with.

Now, what's left of the walls are weathered and look like they would crumble if you leaned on them. Hopefully this means no other tributes will have made this their home. We can't face another fight today.

The glass pane in the door says Campbell Hall. Luckily, we don't need to worry about the lock, as the door is hanging off its hinges next to a blown-out section of wall.

We step over the rubble to find ourselves in a pitch-black stairwell.

"Did we bring a torch?" Asks Rob.

"No. Do we have anything long we can feel around with?"

"Dude. You are literally holding a sword and a trident right now."

"Oh yeah!"

I duck out from under Rob's arm to give him his trident. He stumbles into a wall, before leaning on his weapon like a walking stick.

I brandish my sword in front of me, feeling for a door to go through.

Suddenly, we hear a cartoonish thrum of electricity. I drop my sword and leap backwards in fright, remembering the voltage that coursed through me just yesterday.

My burns flare with a new rush of pain.

This time, though, the noise did not come with a hostile jolt.

My sword is glowing on the floor.

I curiously pick it up, realising that it has blue LEDs along the middle of the blade.

I find the button that triggered it to light up, switching it on and off, like a Jedi.

"No way, brah!" Rob says, "That's insane!"

Lighting the way with my blade, we open a door to an office. It's a decent size, but with nowhere to sleep.

The second door we try is the laundry room – no good at all.

I expect the doors to the actual bedrooms to be locked. Instead, where the handle used to be is a gaping hole, with splinters protruding from the edges.

"Have a guess…" Rob whispers, "Bomb or tribute?"

Before I can guess a very small bomb, a cannon blast booms outside.

"I don't think we should go in there, dude." Rob warns, "Just in case."

I yawn. We are hungry, burned and exhausted.

I say, "I'm not sleeping in an office or a laundry room. If someone's in there, we can run. But right now, I need as much beauty sleep as I can get. I'm almost too hideous for national TV as it is, let alone with bags under my eyes."

"Alright, man." Rob agrees, "If someone comes out, you run, and I'll make myself a brave and noble sacrifice for you to get away."

"Sounds good." I say.

Neither of us reach for the door.

"We should go through it together." I suggest.

"Ok, sure man. On three…"

The door creaks open without us touching it.

Tiny, thirteen-year-old Elsie stands on the threshold.

She squeaks with fright, eyes wide as saucers.

Elsie looks frailer than ever. Her cheekbones are way too pronounced, and her ponytail looks like it needs a good treatment of conditioner.

"Hey." I say.

I can't think of what else to do.

Elsie dives between me and Rob. She scampers out of the building before we can move.

"Okay…" I say, "So there was someone in there. Well, there's not now, so let's go."

We creep into the corridor beyond. The two doors on either side of us are locked. Unless we want to waste energy smashing through locks, the obvious choice is the one at the end of the corridor, where Elsie seems to have done that for us.

I lead the way through it, with my sword to light my way.

"Oh my god!" I cry, "Why can't we just do one thing without people dying?!"

"Er, we're in the Games, my dude."

Rob puts his hand on my shoulder, either to comfort me or to steady himself.

There is a dead body on the bed. Reluctantly, I move my sword closer to their face. It's Eugene, Elsie's district partner.

His throat has been slit in one straight motion. His eyes are still closed – I bet he didn't feel a thing.

I envy him… My burns kill right now.

"Quick!" I say, "Whoever killed him must still be hiding in here!"

"How d'you figure that, brah?" Rob asks, calmly.

"Well the window isn't big enough to climb out of. Elsie was lucky she could get to the door."

Rob looks me in the eyes, lit only by the blue glow of my ultra-cool blade.

"My dude." He says, "Do you think maybe the culprit escaped out the door?"

I think of the terrified look on Elsie's face. Why would she be terrified of a kind man like me? I've been nothing but nice to her.

"Oh." I say, catching on, "She was scared that Eugene would come back as a zombie."

"No, man! She killed him!"

I pause, then look back to Eugene, killed in his sleep.

"Oh… So she did... We make a great pair of detectives, don't we? Come on, Watson; I've decided we should sleep in the office after all."