Just as I am about to finish my share of Twelve's roots, fire girl bursts back into the scene. Two rabbits and a plump squirrel dangle from her shoulder. All shot right through the eye, as usual. She rushes to the pack, sees the berries besides it. She's looking for something. No, for someone.
"Peeta!", she calls out, a hint of panic in her voice. She's looking for her district partner.
There is no response. If he's down by the stream again, he won't hear her.
Out of nowhere, she has her bow out, arrow loaded and ready to loose. Pointed in my general direction.
I hold my breath. If she's seen me, my life is over. Only she hasn't. The bow is aimed at something else, about twenty yards to my right. In the direction of the stream. Just where the boy went: a tragedy waiting to happen.
I could warn her, but to what avail? She'd use that arrow on me instead. One tribute less, one step closer to District 12 – for both of them, or so she believes. I doubt the Gamemakers will ever let that happen. If there's two victors this year, people will demand two victors again the next year, and so on.
There is nothing I can do to save him, so I keep my mouth shut.
Fire girl looks tense. She lets the arrow go, and at the very last moment yanks her bow to the right. It sticks in a tree a mere foot away from where the boy suddenly appeared. No wonder she's mad as hell.
"What are you doing? You're supposed to be here, not running around in the woods!"
He's visibly confused.
"I found some berries down by the stream."
"I whistled. Why didn't you whistle back?"
"I didn't hear. The water's too loud, I guess."
He moves over and puts his hands on her shoulders.
"I thought Cato killed you!"
"No I'm fine."
He tries to give her a hug, but she pushes away.
"If two people agree on a signal, they stay in range. Because if one of them doesn't answer, they're in trouble, alright?"
"Alright."
"Alright. Because that's what happened with Rue, and I watched her die!"
She turns to the pack and immediately notices the bit of food that's missing. So much for stealth.
"And you ate without me!"
Fortunately she blames the boy for now.
"What? No I didn't."
He's innocent of course.
"Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese."
No they didn't. It was me.
"I don't know what ate the cheese, but it wasn't me. I've been down by the stream collecting berries. Would you care for some?"
Finally, the moment has arrived. If she eats those berries, I can do so too. My pockets are full of them.
She walks over and examines the berries more closely. Before she even realizes, the expression on her face tells me exactly what kind they are. The kind of which a single one will kill.
My razor-sharp brain kicks into gear, and suddenly I understand: I don't have to be the last one standing to leave this arena alive. It's enough to make the Gamemakers think I'm a corpse. So these lethal berries… are my best chance to survive.
I clutch my knife in my right hand and dart off, no longer caring about secrecy. With my left, I grab a handful of the berries and lift them to my mouth.
Showtime.
My lips are pressed tightly together as I crush the berries on them. Deadly sap runs down my face. I pretend to swallow, take a few more steps and drop to the ground.
Hidden from view, I plunge the knife into my left arm, just where I felt that weird thing under my skin. The pain is immediate, but I make no sound. Instead, my fingers reach into the wound and pull out a tiny metal device.
Try tracking my vital signs now, you monsters.
Seconds later, the cannon sounds directly overhead.