Chapter Eighteen
The sun sinks lower into the sky as Wesley and I make our way back to the Cornucopia. We move cautiously, each step calculated to avoid any noise that might betray our position. Pausing frequently, we listen intently to our surroundings.
"Stay close," Wesley whispers, his eyes scanning our surroundings with precision. My heart pounds as we trek through the forest.
As we approach the clearing, the towering structure comes into view, standing ominously in the center of the arena. We crouch down at the edge of the forest, hiding behind a cluster of bushes.
"Do you see anyone?" I ask quietly, squinting.
Wesley shakes head, his brow furrowing as he stares ahead. "It looks clear, but we can't be sure."
We inch closer to the Cornucopia, staying low to the ground. My heart pounds in my chest, my senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. I refrain from laughing to myself. There is nothing ordinary about this place.
We reach the golden structure, and I peer around its edge. A flash of movement catches my eye. The female from 6. She's standing on the other side, rummaging through the supplies.
"Wesley," I mouth urgently, pointing towards the female. Wesley's eyes narrow, and he moves to position himself between her and me.
Before we can formulate a plan, she looks up and spots us. Wesley raises his crossbow, but she ducks just in time. I slide a knife out from my belt, but Wesley grabs the collar of my shirt and pushes me roughly against the side of the Cornucopia. An axe whizzes by, its blade sticking into the ground with a heavy thud, a couple yards from us.
"Thanks," I say, realizing he's saved my life, yet again.
Just as we're about to make our move, a deep, rumbling sound fills the air. It starts low, like a distant growl, and quickly grows into a deafening roar. My eyes widen in horror as I glance behind Wesley, at the mountain. A massive wall of snow and debris is hurtling down the slope, an unstoppable force heading straight for us. The Gamemakers have triggered an avalanche.
Wesley grabs my arm and pulls me forward. We sprint away from the Cornucopia, the ground shaking beneath us as the avalanche barrels down. The girl from District 6 is caught off guard, her eyes widening in terror as she tries to flee. She stops short and goes back for supplies, which is her downfall as the avalanche is too fast and too powerful.
The snow crashes into the Cornucopia with a thunderous roar, engulfing everything in its path. I feel the icy blast of air and snow against my back as we run, the sheer force of the avalanche nearly knocking us off our feet.
"We have to find cover!" Wesley yells over the noise, his voice barely audible. I nod, my lungs burning as we push forward. Up ahead, I spot a cluster of large boulders hidden in the thick mass of pine trees.
"Over there!" I point towards the boulders. Wesley follows my lead, and we throw ourselves behind the rocks. The world around us is a blur of white, the sound of the roaring snow and the cracking of the trees drowning out everything else.
We huddle together, clinging to each other as the avalanche rages on. The pine trees above us fall to the earth, the boulders saving us from being flattened like pancakes. Wesley squeezes me tighter, tucking my head against his chest, cradling me. I can barely see anything, my vision obscured by the swirling snow that has flown off the branches of the fallen pine trees.
The roar begins to subside. The avalanche loses its momentum, the snow settling around us in a thick blanket. I take a shaky breath, my body trembling from the cold and adrenaline.
"Are you okay?" Wesley asks me, leaning his head down to stare at my face. I press my lips against his, placing my hands on either side of his face. He lightly grabs my wrists and places them at my side, breaking our kiss. "We should head to the Cornucopia to get supplies before the others use this opportunity," he tells me, his eyes darting around. Pouting, I duck under the thick trunk of one of the trees, and follow Wesley back to the Cornucopia.
My feet sink a couple inches into the snow, making walking a lot slower than I'd like. The landscape is unrecognizable, the once familiar terrain, now a frozen wasteland.
The Cornucopia comes into view. Or what's left of it. The structure is partially buried, the supplies scattered and covered in snow. The girl from District 6 is nowhere to be seen, likely swept away by the avalanche.
Reaching the half-buried entrance of the Cornucopia, a hand shoots out from the snow, grabbing my ankle. I gasp, and stumble, landing on my hip. Wesley spins around, his eyes wide with alarm.
"It's the girl from District 6," I whisper, my heart racing. She's buried in the snow. I brush the snow off, to reveal her face, which is streaked with blood. A massive head wound gapes on the side of her skull, blood seeping into the snow around her.
"Help me," she croaks, her voice weak and pained. "Please, kill me."
Wesley kneels beside her, his face full of sorrow. He looks at me, then back at the girl. "She's not going to make it," he says quietly. She lies on the ground, tremors violently wracking her body. Her eyes are filled with tears and desperation.
Wesley glances at me, his expression torn. I know what he has to do, but it's tearing him apart inside. Before I can say anything, he pulls out his crossbow, his hands trembling slightly. The girl closes her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, mixed with blood.
"I'm sorry," Wesley whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He looks away, unable to meet her gaze as he sends a bolt through her head.
The cannon sounds almost immediately, a loud, echoing boom that signals another life lost. I feel a lump in my throat, but there's no time to dwell on it. We need to gather supplies and move, the sky now fading into darkness.
Wesley and I work quickly, packing up sleeping bags, food, more rope, and carabiners. Wesley grabs the gleaming silver trident, buried in snow.
"I know you've never used a trident before, but you don't have a spear anymore," he says, shrugging. "Same concept," he says, tossing me the weapon. Finnick must be kicking himself right about now, for not giving me pointers on wielding a trident. If anyone knows how to use this thing, it's Finnick. That's how he won his Games.
"Don't let Finnick hear you say that," I warn Wesley, smiling.
The night sky is a tapestry of stars as Wesley and I move deeper into the forest. They finally gave us stars! The cold air bites at my skin, the snow slowly but eventually blowing away in the wind. The trees tower above us, their branches swaying gently in the wind. The forest is quiet, the only sounds being our footsteps crunching through the snow and a distant hooting of an owl.
"Do you see that?" Wesley asks, pointing towards a natural alcove formed by a cluster of trees and a fallen log. It's partially sheltered from the wind, providing just enough cover for us to rest.
We quickly set up camp, spreading out the sleeping bags. The snow has cleared from the ground in this area, thankfully. We huddle close together, wrapped in our sleeping bags.
Wesley digs in his backpack, pulling out nuts and dried meat. He hands me a portion, and I take it, smiling up at him. He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead quickly.
The anthem booms through the arena, causing us to jump. The Panem seal flashes across the sky, signaling it's time to see who died today. First up, is Fae. Seeing her face in the sky stirs a sadness within me. She was too young. We all are, but she was just too innocent. She didn't belong here. Next, the female from 6, followed by the female from 10. The seal reappears, and the anthem closes out.
"Zane, Lira, Evander, Caelum, the male from 3, and the male from 9," Wesley says. Six tributes are left. "Get some rest, I got the first shift," he says quietly, dragging his crossbow into his lap.
"Wake me if anything happens," I insist, rolling over in my sleeping bag, the exhaustion of the day setting in.
Sleep comes quickly, the fatigue pulling me under. My last conscious thought is of Wesley, his unwavering strength and his devotion. I know he'll keep watch over me, making me feel safe—an emotion I never thought I'd feel in the arena.