The Incoming Storm: The Tale of the 325th Hunger Games

Chapter 34

 At what must be around 24 hours from when the spider bite trap went off and Pix died, there is a sharp buzz from the spot in my arm where the tracker was implanted at the start of the games. At first, I think I made it up, but then I notice a trail of spiders crawling toward me, and more begin to dangle down towards me from the treetops.

Within a few minutes, spiders the size of dogs and cars begin emerging from deep within the woods. Whatever was triggered within my tracker must be drawing all of the spiders in the arena towards me. I burst into a sprint, as a massive spider uproots a tree blocking its path towards me. I'm running, jumping over rocks, and leaping over fallen trees. I don't even pause to cut the webs before me, instead, I tear through, coating every part of my body in the white wispy stuff.

While I'm running I swing my backpack around, I dig deep in it hoping to find what I am looking for. I throw unneeded items behind me, I won't need them anymore. Finally, my fingers wrap around what I am looking for the plastic tube housing the remaining two sleep bombs. I put the two bombs in my hand, drop the tube, and swing my backpack over my shoulder.

In my distraction, I run face-first into a low-hanging tree branch. I feel blood explode from my nose and tears are literally squeezed out of my eyes. I lose my grip on one of the bombs, lost forever. My nose throbs from the pain, but I don't have time to linger.

A spider the size of a dog is on me, and I chop into it with my machete and am drenched in its dark red tarry blood. I am back on my feet, sleep bomb in one hand and machete in the other. The massive spider that uprooted the tree is gaining on me, but in the distance, I see the cornucopia clearing. I am almost there!

Seeing my destination, I feel a surge of energy flow through me. Clementine will surely be waiting for me there. But I can't divert my path, if I do the massive spider behind me will surely end me.

I crash into the clearing, trailing webs behind me that are stuck to my coat and backpack. Sharp bits of wood hit the back of my arms and legs like a spider bursts through the tree line surrounding the clearing. It takes everything I have not to scream in terror. I scan the area for Clementine, but right now this spider is my largest threat.

Quickly, I decide that the cornucopia will be my only hope for protection. The spider is large, and won't be able to fit more than a few feet into the golden horn. I careen over the singed grass, stomp over the burned canopies the careers had originally used in the games, and finally, I enter the mouth of the horn.

Inside is filled with the molten wreckage from the explosion so many days ago. The place still has the acrid smell of charred plastic. I leap over the remains of a large crate and spin around, the spider tries to enter the horn, but as I hoped it only fits a couple of yards into the horn. It flails wildly, its front two legs clawing at me, smashing the flimsy remains of barrels and boxes.

It is nearly pitch black in the horn, the very little light that makes its way past the muttation reflects menacingly against its eight eyes which are the size of melons. While the spider is contained, I quickly scan the back of the horn, making sure that Clementine had not hidden there waiting to catch me off guard. To my relief I am alone. For now, my only problem is the rapid spider which is still clawing at me. I put the sleep bomb in my pocket to save it. I find a large chunk of jagged metal and I hurl it at the spider, seeing the movement the spider leaps for it, catching the metal in its mouth. There is a grating sound as the spider's mouth grinds up the shrapnel. I see some dark blood dripping from its mouth, I have wounded it!

I try to find more stuff to throw at it, but can't find much. Back here was where the crates of explosives were stored, and the remaining scrap is smaller than my finger. I try to think of what else to do, the spider is slowly squeezing its way back. I don't want to waste my only sleep bomb on it, besides I don't even know if it would work. My fingers wrap tighter around my machete, an idea that I desperately hope works forms in my head. I raise it up and throw it.