The Mentor - A Hunger Games Story

5 - DURING

Haymitch woke up before the sun, wanting to distance himself even further from the other tributes. His entire body was sore, but he kept moving as quickly as he could. His hunger had become extreme, his legs wobbling and his head feeling light. Right as the sun rose, he decided to give in and nibble on one of the dried meats from his bag.

He sat down and sopped up his sweat with the bandana he'd found in the backpack. He had tried to take good care of his body, but he still felt sick. How was he supposed to physically take on anyone in this state? He knew the high altitude was dehydrating him quickly, but didn't want to drink all of his water. He ended up taking a small sip, which would virtually do nothing.

He stood up and continued on his trek, heading up and away from the cornucopia.

By what Haymitch guessed was noon, he was on the verge of passing out. His legs continued to carry him, but his mind felt entirely out of it.

"Remember how I got ranked a 10?" He said aloud, to no one in particular. "That was pretty cool." He fell onto a nearby rock, wiping his forehead, trying to get his bearings. For the first time, he hoped someone was watching him, listening. "Just something. Food, water. Something that will last?" He barely recognized his own voice.

He sat there for a few minutes, cursing himself for being so unlikeable in his interview. Maybe if he had just faked a smile then a sponsor would send him something.

Just as he was about to give up hope, he heard the distinctive beeping of a gift floating down to him.

"Holy fuck." He said, a little too loud. The parachuted box landed in his hands and he ripped it open like an animal. Inside was a package of crackers, a few more pieces of meat, and a bottle of clear liquid that was boosted with electrolytes. There was no note, which made him slightly suspicious.

"Thank you. Thank you." He gasped. He made himself drink the electrolytes slowly, so he could save them. He was about to tear into the cracker package when he heard rustling nearby. He shot to his feet, shoving his food in his backpack and grabbing his knife.

"It landed somewhere over here. There's definitely someone here."

Haymitch tried not to curse. He had led tributes over to him by begging for food. They had tracked the parachute and had been led right to him.

He sprung behind a large tree, knowing it wouldn't be enough. He took off his backpack, knowing he'd have to fight his way out. He grabbed two additional knives and shoved them into his boots. The tributes hunting him sounded familiar, and Haymitch tried to rack his dehydrated and hungry brain for who they were.

"Right up here." A gruff voice said from way too close.

It was taking all of Haymitch's willpower to not scream out curses. He recognized that voice from anywhere. Ronnie Purch, a district one career, one feet from Haymitch.

Ronnie looked like he had been working out since the womb, and had absolutely no morals. There was no physically overpowering him.

Haymitch took a deep breath and tried to use his brain. He had heard two voices and maybe three footsteps. He figured Ronnie would run with two other district one careers, Milly and Cook. Milly was dainty but could throw knives like no one Haymitch had ever seen. Cook was Ronnie's younger brother, and just as much as a meathead.

Haymitch had no plan. He had feared the careers more than he wanted to admit. He couldn't get a read on them, since they kept to themselves and didn't have personalities beyond killing.

Haymitch had a sinking feeling that he was about to die.

The three careers were talking to themselves as they passed Haymitch's tree. He knew he wouldn't be lucky enough for them to just not notice.