Chapter 23
My dreams are filled with rolling waves and the refreshing coolness of sea-spray on my skin. I'm on holiday; no Haymitch, no Panem or Hunger Games – only me and Rob.
We stand in the shallow surf, the foamy tide lapping at our ankles.
Rob says, "This time with you has been magical, Midnight. I want you to be mine, forever."
"Oh, Rob!" I say, "Of course I will!"
We gaze into each other's eyes, as our hair breezes sexily around us. Sea-water evaporates on Rob's toned muscles.
I turn as stiff as a surfboard at the thought of kissing him.
Just then, something in the distance catches my eye.
Somebody is walking down the beach towards us. His long hair billows like a cape behind him.
Rubis. Alive and well. And topless.
My eyes follow a trickle of sweat down his sternum, to his bronze abs that sparkle in the sun.
His imposing stature casts me and Rob into shadow.
"Midnight?" He rumbles, sensually, "What is this? I thought I was your one true love."
I look between Rob and Rubis – one tall and well-built, with luscious locks like a river of flame, the other towering and muscly, with hair that flows like a smooth, chocolate stream.
I have a type, don't I?
Rob says, "Midnight, you didn't tell me you still had feelings for Rubis."
Rubis asks, "How could you move on from me so fast? Did I mean nothing to you?"
My head pivots between them as they wait in anticipation.
I say, "Gentlemen, there's more than enough Midnight to go around, I can assure you."
Rob says, "My dude, that hurts."
I think quickly. How can I have them both?
He says, "Ow, man. Wake up, Midnight."
I snap back to reality.
My eyes fly open to see Rob lying opposite me.
"Could you get off my hand, brah?" He says, "It burns."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
I roll off of Rob's blistered arm, which I must have laid on accidentally while I was sleeping.
He cradles his burnt hand to him.
"Man, I'm starving." I say, "Where's breakfast?"
"Breakfast blew up." Rob says, "We left all the food behind, remember?"
Stiffly, I get up from my position on the scratchy carpet to look out of the window.
The campus is lit by the dim light of dawn. Across the courtyard, our old base has been obliterated. The bomb has carved a ginormous chunk from the right side of the building, as though God himself fancied chowing down on bricks and mortar for a late-night snack.
"The explosion shook the ground from here." Says Rob, "I'm surprised it didn't wake you."
"Nothing like lying under a table to keep me in a deep sleep." I say, sarcastically.
Suddenly, Rob puts a hand over my mouth and forces me to the ground.
He hisses, "Shh, I just saw some people coming towards us."
He removes his hand and I catch my breath.
Rob peeks quickly out of the window, before crouching beside me again.
He whispers, "It's Elsie, Salto and Pinty. Looks like they've teamed up."
From outside, we hear Pinty say, "You better not be cappin', blud."
Elsie replies, "They came in here last night, I promise."
"And you're sure they're injured?" asks Salto, "They were still in pretty good shape after the fight with me and Sugar."
"They were covered in burns; I'm sure of it." Says Elsie.
By now, they have reached the door to the building.
Rob says, "Out the window, as soon as they come in, ok brah?"
"Got it." I say.
The moment I hear the door creak, I thump the glass window with the butt of my sword. It bounces off and nearly skewers me in the face.
Rob swings his trident like a baseball bat and smashes the window into a thousand fragments.
"In here!" Yells Pinty.
Her face appears at the glass in the office-door, complete with malicious sneer and eyepatch.
"Get them!" Cries Salto.
I think to myself, what harm could three little twelve-year-olds do? before spotting the abundance of sharp-looking knives they are armed with.
"Let's go!" Shouts Rob.
He is already through the window. He hoists me out after him.
Stumbling over our own feet, we leg it towards the college gate.
Our pursuers are hot on our tail, whooping and jeering at us. Year-sevens should not be able to run this fast!
Five sets of feet thunder up the road. Though the kids are weighed down by packs of supplies, we need only trip over a crack in the tarmac and they will surround us. The PS6 on my back and the surfboard under Rob's arm can't be helping either.
Rob calls to the sky, "Plaicey! Now would be a righteous time for them to fall into a Capitol trap, brah!"
We continue running.
Nothing happens.
Just as I am about to lose it and put the little brats in their place, Pinty stops short in her tracks.
She barks, "Oi, mandem! Man can smell a strawberry and banana vape!"
Elsie and Salto skid to a halt. All three scuttle off along a side-road, led by Pinty's nose.
"No more withdrawal symptoms for me!" Pinty yells.
Elsie says, "I wanna be cool too!"
Salto briefly turns back to me and Rob.
"We'll get you." He promises, "Right after we get our vapes."
He runs after his friends.
Rob and I are doubled over, panting. I clutch a stitch in my side.
"That was so lucky." Says Rob, "Let's head somewhere less open before someone even more lethal turns up, like the Goths."
I need no reminder of the number of dangerous tributes still standing in the arena.
We hurry to a shop that we passed on our expedition yesterday – a mostly intact SPAR.
Though the glass panes in the door are shattered, the aisles provide decent cover, should somebody look inside for victims. Plus, there are remnants of food in cans, among the boxes and packets that reek of decay.
Tin cans are scattered in one mould-carpeted corner. Several of them ooze what was once soup, but it now a black, rancid slime. Rob extracts an undamaged can, wipes the chunky sludge off of it and cracks it open.
"Smells ok." He informs me.
We take turns sipping cold cream-of-mushroom soup straight from the can. Maybe it's the fact that my injured, starved and exhausted body craves nutrients, or that Rob's lips have been on the rim of this tin, but I manage to keep sipping until I am full.
Rob sets his surfboard between some shelves as a makeshift bench. We sit together on it, leaning against the inoperative freezer doors.
"What do you think drew Pinty's gang away?" I ponder.
"They said they smelt vapes, so maybe Bretta?" Rob suggests.
"It could have been the game makers, luring them away from us." I say, "After all, why would the Capitol want to see their favourite icon killed by a pack of year-sevens?"
Just then, a cannon blast makes me jump.
Rob puts a consoling hand on my shoulder. I feel instantly at ease.
"That was probably Bretta." Says Rob, "I reckon they got her. And her vapes."
"We'll find out tonight, I guess." I say.
It feels like it should be much later in the day, but the sun has barely risen. A whole day until I get to find out who just died, via the projections in the sky.
Rob throws his head back and exhales, irately.
"The game makers would've let me die!" He complains, "One of them is my own brother, man. Plaicey would have let the little kids kill me. Some big bro."
He looks around, presumably to locate a camera.
"Don't you care if I die in here, Plaicey? Come on, brah. Give me a sign you've got my back."
When nothing happens, Rob says, "You know what, dude? Fine. I'll show you. You were always mom's least favourite anyway."
I warn, "Rob… Though you are undoubtedly the favourite Seasley, maybe you shouldn't test the game makers?"
Rob completely ignores me, which stings.
"Yeah, I said it. And I woulda got higher grades than you in my E.E.L.s, but I'm not a stuck-up nerd."
Within seconds, the small building rumbles.
"Rob…" I say, "Maybe apologise?"
Rob appears oblivious.
I say, "Oh, great game makers! I am sorry for my, er, friend's behaviour! If you don't trap us, I'll make Plaicey my second favourite Seasley, okay?"
The floor crumbles beneath us.
I leap to solid ground a couple of feet away.
Rob finally comes to his senses and follows me, snatching his surfboard to him before the shelves it was resting on collapse.
The sinkhole that started under our bench grows rapidly towards us. The ground falls away like a wave.
The two of us run towards the door, only to feel the floor slip away beneath our feet.
Shelves crash down around us into the pit. We fall about ten feet with them, unable to reach safety in time.
Dazed, bruised and wary, we stand and dust ourselves off. When the dust settles, I see that we have fallen into a sort of basement of the SPAR. The aisles have created a cluttered maze around us. The old floor crunches under our feet in thousands of pebble-sized chunks.
"Help!" I cry, "I don't wanna die in a mould-ridden basement!"
Rob says, "Dude, it's okay. We can climb out. I think they were just trying to scare us. Okay, Plaicey – you got me. Sorry big bro. I knew you wouldn't let your favourite brother die."
With that, we get to work stacking shelves to reach the exit.
"Take your time, man. Make sure it's nice and stable." Says Rob.
A hissing, popping noise fills the room.
From the back of the store, under the freezer area, bright green acid is spewing out of dispensers in the walls.
Crisp packets and chocolate bars fizzle into smoke when it spreads over them. The smell is rancid.
"On second thought," Says Rob, "we've gotta hurry up, dude!"
The acid quickly covers the floor. Rob and I cling to a stack of shelves to avoid it.
"Climb!" Says Rob.
We scale the shelves to stand atop them, scattering packs of biscuits, whose contents are nothing but dust.
The acid rises rapidly.
It spits on us, leaving burning white spots on our exposed skin.
"I still can't reach the door!" I sob.
"Here." Rob grabs a pack of soda from a shelf nearby. I put it by our feet between us.
"Higher!" I say.
Rob takes another 2 packs and stacks them atop the first.
The acid has reached the shelf below us. Pinholes corrode into the metal as the acid spits on it.
Is it me, or is our stack of shelves sinking?
"It's melting!" Says Rob.
We have seconds before the door will be out of reach again.
"We can't both fit on the cans!" I cry.
"I have an idea," Says Rob, "But it involves a horrible sacrifice."
His face is already screwed up with grief.
A betrayal! Now? When we were just getting close?
"I'm sorry, Rob!" I say.
Turning my head dramatically away from him, I shove Rob off the shelves.
He falls into the acid and screams. I am splashed with liquid and the calves of my trousers burn away. The skin on my shins bubbles.
I scream with Rob, in equal agony.
Rob drags himself onto his surfboard, which floats on the acid. White bone peeks through his sizzling skin.
He wails, "I was gonna sacrifice my surfboard to make the tower wider!"
There's nothing we can do now. The board drifts slowly away from where I am standing.
"You stabbed me in the heel like a camouflaged sea-urchin!" Rob gurgles.
By now, the soles of my sneakers are melting. I clamber onto the soda and reach for the door.
It's too high up.
I am standing in agony on an island, two by three cans wide.
The cans begin to crumple. Acid rises up the first pack, to the second.
My life flashes before my eyes.
Haymitch's abuse. Games of Roblox. The bullies at school. Purchasing my first NFT with Haymitch's credit card. The injustice of District twelve, with their shitty Wi-Fi.
The people who loved me. This part doesn't just flash by, as it takes ages to scroll through them all.
The people I loved.
Mervin…'s hot AF sister.
Rubis.
Rob.
One selfless tear trickles down my cheek, for the surfer-dude hunk that I lost today.
The rest of my tears are for me.
I look wistfully at the sun rising in the open doorway.
I am about to die.