The Great War.

XX

"Silent Whispers of Desperation."

As the sun finally emerges, its powerful rays brighten up the cave, awakening me. My body is covered in sweat as the temperature has started to rise once again. I break free from Cato's grip and pack my remaining supplies, which are scattered around the cave. Despite the heat, I put on the clothes I had left on the ground to dry and stash my jacket in my backpack.

"Let's go," I say as I shake my district partner, who hasn't even woken up yet. "We gotta move."

"Knock it off," he complains, turning his body to face away from me. "We'll go later."

"We're leaving," I continue shaking him by the shoulders, and he pretends not to hear me. "Now."

Cato curses out loud and finally decides to get up. He takes the sword that could've belonged to the boy from District 11 and straps it to his belt. We leave the two big backpacks we got from the feast in a corner because they're incredibly heavy and useless at this point.

I walk out of the cave, with Cato following closely behind, still cursing. The stream that runs through the forest has overflowed several meters on both sides. I search the ground for footprints or any sign of the other tributes, but unfortunately, there is nothing at all. I refill my water bottle and reluctantly use one of my remaining water purifying tablets. Though the water may seem clean and safe, there's a nagging worry that it could have been contaminated by animals or altered by the Gamemakers.

"I'm fucking done," says Cato, crossing his arms. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope they start another fire to end this once and for all."

We both agree that the tributes from District 12 are probably hiding in some cave; with the rain and the injury Cato caused to Lover Boy, they probably wouldn't want to expose themselves too much. The girl from District 5 is a complete mystery; the only time I saw her was during the feast, and I vaguely remember her having reddish hair.

The stadium is gigantic, and I doubt we can cover it entirely. My body isn't in the same condition as when the games started; I get tired easily, especially when we cross rocky terrain or steep hills, and I think Cato is in a similar situation.

The Gamemakers have started messing with the temperature once again, causing us to stop more often than we'd like. It's way too hot. We decide to return to our old camp since we set traps there, and it won't hurt to check them. Our options for hunting our opponents are very limited now.

"I'll check one trap, and you check the other," says Cato. "We'll meet back here in ten minutes."

I nod and walk lazily towards the trap, which is about thirty feet away. It doesn't require much effort, but my body still feels heavy. When I get close to the trap, something brushes against my right calf, and I let out a scream before grabbing one of the five knives left in my vest. The trap activates, and I hear the cannon shot.

I calm down when I see that it's just a chubby rabbit wriggling in the net. Obviously, the animal didn't cause the cannon shot. I look up in case the hovercraft appears nearby, indicating that someone was following us, but nothing happens. The death happened on the other side of the arena.

I release the rabbit from the trap since killing it serves no purpose. Marvel was the one who knew how to skin these animals, and I won't waste my remaining energy pretending to be a hunter like him. The memory of Marvel's death weighs heavily on me, and I swiftly try to push it away to avoid the bitter feelings it brings. Cato comes running, spear in hand, with horror written all over his face.

"What?" I ask as I get ready to set up the trap again, though I'll probably do it wrong. I need a distraction. "You alright?"

"Could you stop scaring me like that?" he asks, almost shouting. His face flushes with anger. I instinctively step back, and he releases the spear. "I thought you were dead, again. Could you stop that? I'm going insane here."