The Tribute | Max Verstappen

Chapter Nine

Cheers! 

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He was wet to the bones, his fingers stiff from the cold, but it was no use. If he lit a fire, he could also run around screaming out his location for the other tributes, the careers to find him. Well, he could if his leg would be any use which wasn't the case.

About twenty minutes ago, Max realised that he really could die here just like Lando. In some fucking arena for the world to watch. He really didn't want to, but what was he to do. He needed to get warm, but in order to do so, he would have to light a fire to dry his cloths, but that would give away his location and without fire, he also couldn't burn out the infection before it would attack his bones.

He was fucked. Royally so.

He could start talking, let the world hear his last words, die after giving a little speech, that might be good, so many of the other kids died without a word muttered. He could be different, but then again, he wasn't really a talker. He was a loser, a kid wet to the bone sitting by the puddle of water in which he had brutally drowned the guy, who tried to drown him, after flinging the axe he was carrying into his girlfriends chest. Fucking moron careers, volunteered as a couple as if they wouldn't have to kill each other off in the end. Well, after all they didn't have too, Max did it for them.

Grimacing he reached around his neck and pulled on the cain until the leaf pendant was resting against his palm. He slowly opened his palm only to see the metallic green leaf rest right there in the middle. She told him to hold onto it for her, to bring it back. Now he regretted that she will never see it again. He had wondered why she had given him her necklace in the first place. Max had seen her wear the necklace during her own games, but no tributes since she was their mentor. He was the first one she seemed to really believe could make it after all. Well, she was wrong. He was about to die.

Max was contemplating if choosing suicide after screaming fuck the capital and the fucking Hunger Games would bring him any peace, but he feared too much for his mother and sister to do so, so he remained silent, but there was a sound like bells ringing softly over his head, causing him to look up, only to see a little parachute carrying a box to him. Getting up on his wobbly feet, Max reached out and caught it before it could fall into the puddle before him, only to sit back down with it again.

He opened the box carefully, only to find a tiny tin of cream in it and a larger container of hot stew. With it lay a spoon and a note. For your cut, stay warm too. Noah

Max had to smile, his thumb brushing over her name slowly, before he set the box to the side and moved to apply the cream on his infected cut in the hope it would do any good, before he moved to pick up the container of stew and started to eat. Something warm in his belly would change his situation but the tiny tin of cream might be a game changer. Noah had saved his life in that moment. Maybe they would see each other again after all.

Eagerly eating a few spoons full of the stew, Max stopped to think, before he reached for the tiny note Noah had send him. He folded it twice, before opening the locket of the leaf pendant and put it inside. Happy with his work, he hide the necklace underneath his shirt again so it could rest against his heart before he continued eating.

If he would survive this, it would be thanks to Noah. Not only thanks to her, he also had something to do with it, but he wouldn't forget what she did for him and he would carry her kindness next to his heart until he would return the necklace.

In that mossy swamp, sitting by what he called a puddle, eating stew while he waited for the magic of the capitol medicine to work, he decided that he would pull Noah into his arms and never let go should he survive.