Clementine's POV
"Agatha?"
Clem's voice slices through the stillness. Agatha huddles over Clem's bag of supplies, which she must have rolled off during sleep, like a creature unhinged. Her eyes have lost their humanity, her eyes glassy and emotionless. She twitches in a way that Clem has never seen a person do before, and Clem's mouth goes dry from fear.
Agatha isn't rifling through Clem's belongings to steal; she's flinging them into the jungle recklessly. At the sound of Clem's voice, she snaps her head toward her, and she unexpectedly lunges at her with surprising strength. The Twelves are usually feeble. Easy to overlook. Whatever strength Agatha has found within herself must have been deep inside. Deep, deep inside.
Panic tightens its grip on Clem as she grapples with Agatha's brittle hands clawing at her throat. The image brings memories of past Hunger Games fluttering back to her. Two tributes fighting to make it to the next day. A recollection surfaces from a lifetime of watching the Hunger Games. Enobaria, a victor from District 2, tearing out her opponent's throat in a gruesome display. Agatha's hands hover perilously close to Clem's mouth. In a desperate bid for escape, Clem bites down on Agatha's thumb, pulling a pained howl that punctuates the air. Seizing the window of opportunity, Clem catapults herself forward, connecting with a brutal headbutt.
There's a crack, and blood spills from Agatha's nose, but the reprieve is brief. Agatha falls back with a stunned and confused expression, but she's on Clem again before Clem can really recover.
Somewhere in the mess of limbs, Clem manages to land a couple of punches, forcing Agatha to topple off her. Clem lunges for her knife. Despite Agatha's desperate attempts to stop her, clawing at Clem's thigh and opening painful gashes, Clem remains determined. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline and fear, she thrusts the blade into Agatha's ribs, then her chest, and finally the side of her neck.
Agatha chokes, blood trickling down her chin, and crumples to the mossy ground. Desperation in her eyes, she clutches at her throat before succumbing to stillness. Her hands drop, and the cannon fires.
Overwhelmed, Clem rolls onto the floor, vomiting. Tears stream down her cheeks, though she's not sure if it's from the exertion of vomiting or if she's crying. Crawling to a nearby tree trunk, she curls up at its roots. The hovercraft materializes above the trees. The claw descends, swiftly scooping up Agatha, and disappears once more. Clem is left alone, grappling with the reality of what she's just done. Her impulsive alliance is over before it really started.
She's never killed before. Some people in District 11 are part of shady groups of rebels, and killing Peacekeepers is nothing to them. Clem watched her neighbors mowed down by Peacekeeper bullets during the uprisings last year. But actively killing is completely different from sending a couple of Peacekeepers to the infirmary and spending the night in prison.
Several minutes pass before she regains composure. Sitting there, she stares at the moss, stained dark by Agatha's blood. Eventually, she stands up to recollect her supplies, hastily shoving them into her backpack. Typically, when a tribute kills, they take their victims' supplies. Agatha had nothing, only the clothes on her back and a packet of crackers.
Once she's ready to move, Clem travels further uphill for a couple of hours before finding respite in the tresses of a thick, tall tree. Once she's found a comfortable spot in a forked branch and positions herself so that she won't plummet to her death, she lets exhaustion take its toll. She can't fully succumb to sleep. She's too on edge. At some point, she finally stays down, only to be abruptly awakened by yelling.
Her eyes snap open, scanning the jungle below. How long has she been asleep? The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees suggests at least a couple of hours. A deep shout echoes from somewhere to her right. Descending a few tiers on the tree, she surveys the surroundings below. No one in sight. Running through a mental list of surviving tributes, she realizes most of them pose a threat. The weaker competitors have already been snuffed out. Trying to get out of this area with someone so close could be fatal.
As Clem is about to return to the safety of the jungle canopy, the tree shakes violently, almost causing her to lose her grip. Her knife slips from her belt, hitting the forest floor and vanishing into the moss. Clem blinks, pulling herself back up, and peers down. The tree trembles once more, and she clings on for dear life.
In a desperate attempt to locate her weapon, Clem scans the immediate surroundings, but it's as if the moss has swallowed it whole. A nut is shaken loose from a tree, and it hits the floor, causing the moss to ripple outward like waves in a puddle. Puzzled, she furrows her brow, trying to understand the unmistakable mark of a Gamemakers' trap. Trapped within their orchestrated chaos, Clem racks her brain for any semblance of an escape, but the neighboring trees remain frustratingly out of reach. A memory Everdeen's use of rope to tie herself securely to a tree in last year's games, ensuring she wouldn't plummet to the floor in her sleep.
Realizing she lacks rope, Clem's attention turns to the abundance of vines encircling her. Without hesitation, she tears them from their homes, deftly weaving several together to forge a makeshift rope. She climbs to a more substantial branch, tying herself securely to it. The violent shaking of the trees persists, and the nearby tributes grapple with the quicksand and the earthquakes. Clem finds herself grateful that she's in this unstable tree as opposed to the undulating ground. Strangely, though, no cannons reverberate through the forest. Time stretches endlessly, the disorienting ordeal seemingly neverending. Clem becomes overwhelmed, feeling as if this is all she'll know for the rest of her life. Earthquakes, quicksand, and struggling tributes. With a resigned acceptance, she closes her eyes and waits for it to be over.
Anona's POV
There's a dry patch on Anona's tongue, scratching the roof of her mouth every time she presses her lips together. She feels the end coming. Four days in the arena, not a single drop of water. She'd cry, but she's got no moisture left in her body.
Yash and Makari battle the effects of dehydration, too. Slowly moving through the arena, they rest every hour, desperate for anything to drink. Makari's irritation has grown, and he's become more cold than usual. Anona's idealistic attitude is gone; she isn't sure she likes him. His continued dismay towards her is wearing thin.
"It might be time to risk the Cornucopia now," Yash croaks, his mouth barely moving.
"We won't stand a chance," Anona responds.
Yash closes his eyes as if it'll block out the reality of their situation.
Makari rises awkwardly. "I'm gonna go look for more food. I might try squeezing some plants for water. I could try carve a makeshift spile."
Twenty minutes later, he returns with some sort of tree rat.
"Its snout is wet. There's water somewhere."
"Where did you find it?" Yash asks.
"In the branches. It was nowhere near where a water source could be."
Hopelessness settles back onto them. Anona lacks the energy even to eat the rat. She doesn't care enough. Her mind drifts to anything that could help them, but it's like all her brainpower is rice, and it's filtering through her fingers. Feeling useless, she wonders if the Gamemakers truly want everyone to die of thirst within the first week. This is a Quarter Quell; Anona assumed they'd want these games to be entertaining for future generations. Perhaps they've dispersed small brooks or ponds around the arena with fresh water. If so, it backfired. What's the use if they're impossible to locate? Even back in District 9, she never got this close to keeling over from thirst. Hunger, maybe, but the village well was always reliable.
Anona puts her arm over her eyes. Maybe dying won't be so bad. It's less terrifying than getting skewered by a Career. She sits up, revitalized by the reminder of the inner district alliance.
"Let's do it."
Makari and Yash look at her. Makari's furrowed brows lessen a bit in confusion.
"What?"
"Let's just storm the Cornucopia," Anona suggests, her voice steady despite her desperation. "We're gonna die anyway, may as well go out with a bang. Especially if we can take at least one of the guards out."
The boys exchange glances, a silent conversation that lingers in the air. Makari, typically reserved, questions her. "You just said that was a stupid idea."
"Call it brain fog. We've got to do something. I don't want to die without at least trying to live."
As they pack up their supplies and embark on the downhill journey, the weight of their dehydration amplifies every struggle. It's not long before the hike becomes a massive task, each step a battle against a throbbing migraine and blurry vision. Anona leads the way, her knife slashing through the omnipresent vines. She figured it might be time to exert her usefulness in this alliance.
In the midst of their descent, Anona's blade severs a cluster of vines, unleashing a cascade of red juice. She pauses and bends down to inspect it. The vines, now visibly angered serpents, coil around her. Anona writhes against their hold, too overwhelmed and focused to cry out a warning to the boys. Makari's sharp gasp punctuates the air as the vines tighten around him.
Summoning her strength, Anona slides the small knife from her belt, cutting through the vines as aggressively as she can. Freeing herself, she stumbles forward, her face meeting the ground, dirt and pebbles scraping against her skin, even through the moss.
Dragging herself from the floor, Anona staggers to Yash, freeing him from the coils around his wrists. The snakes don't make any noise, but up close, now she can see their black, beady eyes and their flickering tongues. They don't bite, but that's probably not their purpose. Despite how needle-thin they are, they have a lot of strength. They've been created to choke the life out of their enemies.
Yash and Anona work together to pry Makari from their grasp. They stumble away from the sea of green. Anona wipes dirt from her face, feeling the sting of scraped skin. The snakes reach out for them, but the three of them are prepared now. They end the lives of the mutts before they curl around them.
Gasping for breath, the group retreats to a safer distance. Dark, beady eyes and flickering tongues taunt their backs. The alliance takes a collective breath, assessing injuries and regaining composure. Anona checks for any bite marks. Just as she expected, the only injuries they've sustained are bruises around their throats and arms.
As they limp through the dense foliage, guided by a mixture of caution and urgency, a small cluster of tributes are huddled at the base of a tree, where the beach meets the jungle. Makari, making a haphazard plan, stops as he notices them.
"We get these supplies, and then we—Eila!"
One of the tributes turns. She's short, with brown skin and brown hair. The long, white streaks through her hair is the detail that triggers the memory of who this girl is. Makari's district partner. Confusion spasms across her face. She realizes who's calling for her, and her eyes widen.
"Makari!"
Jogging toward them, she exclaims, "I can't believe it! I thought we were never gonna find you!"
Two tributes, the pair from District 3, join her. It takes a moment for Anona to place them.
"Where have you been?" she inquires.
Makari and Yash quickly fill Eila in on their recent struggles, recounting their escape from the vine snakes just moments ago.
"This is Anona," Yash introduces. "We ran into her the first night."
Eila and Anona nod an acknowledgment to each other. Eila, in turn, brings them up to speed on the arena's recent events, including the loss of their ally from District 11 early on the second day. The group has been camped out here since yesterday, strategically observing the Cornucopia.
"We had the same idea," Yash remarks. "We need to charge the Cornucopia. Now. We won't last until tomorrow afternoon. I know we're tired and thirsty, and this goal seems impossible, but we're gonna die."
Anona surveys the group. The Threes are the only ones who won't be useful in a battle, but they're mousey. Good for sneaking around.
"Visia and Chip can pack bags of water while we hold the guards off," Eila proposes, seemingly reading Anona's thoughts.
Tense nods are exchanged, and they delve into planning the execution of their strategy. Anona tries to ignore the clamor of her pounding heart, focusing on the shared determination that binds their newly formed alliance.
Eila's POV
Yash charges forward, leading the assault with his dagger raised above his head. She narrowly avoids his strike, her suit fabric ripping as his blade grazes her forearm. Reacting swiftly, she swings her spear in defense, but Yash deflects it with surprising ease. Makari joins the fray, applying pressure to push the girl from Two backward, while Eila and Anona launch their own attack on the girl from District 1. The Threes scamper into the mouth of the Cornucopia.
A silent acknowledgment passes between Eila and the girl from One as their weapons clash. Memories of their mutual animosity flood Eila's mind—memories of their confrontation in the training center and of Karita's death at the hands of this girl's brother in the arena three years ago. For Eila, it's a debt that must be settled. Anona joins the fray, brandishing a scythe obtained from the Cornucopia. The girl from One finds herself pushed back under the relentless assault, sweat glistening on her brow.
Anona manages to sink the scythe into the girl's calf, eliciting a cry of pain as the girl swings her axe wildly at Anona's face. Anona narrowly evades the blow, forcing her to dodge backward. Swiftly, Anona frees her weapon from the girl's leg, but before she can attack again, the girl from One strikes back. A horrific scream comes from Anona as the axe slices off part of her face. The girl from One doesn't hesitate to bury the weapon in Anona's head. The cannon fires.
Seizing Eila's shock, the girl from One swiftly disengages from Eila's attack, her eyes shifting to the Threes rummaging frantically through the supplies in the Cornucopia. With a kick aimed at Eila, she makes a dash for her next target. Hindered by the sand beneath her feet, Eila struggles to pursue, losing precious seconds. In a swift motion, the girl from One hurls her axe toward the Threes. She doesn't wait for it to land. She yanks a sword off the wall. Visia is thrown forward as the axe buries itself into the back of her head, and the cannon fires a second time. Chip's anguished cry fills the air as he takes in Visia's crumpled form..
Turning her attention back to Eila, the girl from District 1 raises her sword menacingly. Eila meets her gaze with fierce determination. The girl from One arcs her sword upwards at Eila, almost shaving off her hands. Eila manages to lock the sword beneath the curve of her axe.
"I'm going to fucking kill you," Eila growls.
The girl from One remains silent; her brow furrowed in concentration as the two engage in a fierce struggle. Eila twists the sword from the girl's hands somehow, and she takes on a look of terror as Eila bares down on her. With a mighty swing, Eila brings down her axe, cleaving through the girl's skull with brutal force. Blood spurts from the girl's head, staining her blonde hair a deep red. She slips to the ground.
"That's for Karita," she declares, spitting on the dead tribute's body.
The cannon barks through the air, drawing the attention of the girl from District 2 away from Makari and Yash. Her gaze falls upon her dead ally. There's no sorrow in her expression. She intensifies her assault on the boys. Eila charges toward her, but the girl swiftly turns, wielding her spear in defense. Eila leaps backward, narrowly avoiding a deep gash on her thigh from the spear's edge. Meanwhile, Makari swings his axe downward at the District 2 girl, who evades the blow with a nimble dodge.
A low rumble ripples through the ground, causing everyone to pause, even the District 2 girl. Suddenly, the explodes as the jungle sends another wave, slamming into the Cornucopia and sending sprays of waterl flying in all directions. Everyone but Chip, who's safe in the Cornucopia, is hit with the full force of the water and thrown off their feet.
Eila's too close to the water's edge, and the momentum of the wave carries her back to the beach. She struggles to regain her footing, coughing and sputtering as she's spun through the saltwater. Chip is sprinting down the nearest spoke toward her, a heavy bag smacking against his back. She gasps out a question about Yash and Makari's whereabouts, her throat raw from inhaling water. Before Chip can respond, the boys emerge from the water, urgency in their voices.
"We need to go!" Yash shouts.
The girl from District 2 rockets toward the beach, clutching her spear tightly.
Makari pulls Eila to her feet, and their group disappears into the jungle. They run desperately, their hearts pounding as they flee from the relentless pursuit of the District 2 girl. Eventually, her shouts fade into the distance as she must give up the chase, realizing she's left the Cornucopia vulnerable.
Eila collapses on the moss, breathing deeply. None of them speak. No words are exchanged among them as they silently mourn the fallen members of their alliance. Eila didn't know Anona for long, but she did know Visia. Not deeply, but they trained together. Looking at Chip's grieving expression, she gets a jolt of guilt within her chest as she remembers debating whether or not to kill him and Visia. Closing her eyes, she realizes that only eleven tributes are alive. More than half the field is gone. She could really make it home.