The Mentor - A Hunger Games Story

11 - DURING

"How much further are we going to go?"

It was the first words Maislee had spoken to Haymitch in two days. They had been hiking non-stop with occasional rests. They had come across one other victor, and the two of them worked as a well oiled machine. Maislee distracted the victor, pretending to be injured. Haymitch came up from behind them and slit their throat before they could take another step.

They hadn't seen another soul in twelve hours since, but had heard two more cannons as the day went on.

There were five of them left. Five including Haymitch and Maislee. Two-fifths of the remaining tributes were feet from each other. It was getting too complicated, and they both knew it.

"This plan has kept us safe, Mais." Haymitch said in between breaths. He looked up, trying to catch the sun's glare off of the barrier. It was for sure sloping down, he just wasn't sure where it was going to stop.

"Whatever." She could barely catch her breath either.

Haymitch looked to his right over the side of the path and took in the view. The arena was massive. The alpine lake and cornucopia were mere spots on the ground. The waterfalls across the valley were so far away, they looked completely vertical, cutting their way down the slopes.

The mountains were so tall, all around them, they almost looked fake. Maybe they were. There is no way they could get all the victors in one space to fight if the arena was hundreds of miles wide and high. Maybe it was all an illusion. Maybe nothing was this beautiful.

Maislee stopped abruptly ahead of him, and turned suddenly. Her eyes were cherry red from crying, and her eyes looked wild.

"Mais_"

"This is it." She announced. Haymitch gulped, not sure if she was about to stick a dart in him. Might be easier that way.

"No, what_"

"I can't." Maislee said in between short breaths. "I just can't stay with you when I know that," she hesitated, wiping sweat from her forehead, "We might make it to the final two. We might, and we probably can."

"True. We rule." Haymitch forced a joke, but Maislee barely noticed.

"And I refuse to be the last two left, because I can't make a decision like that." She crouched down on the path, shaking her head over and over. "I can't. I just can't."

Haymitch squatted down next to her, gulping in his nerves. He knew every camera that the capital owned were watching them.

"Then I'll make it for you." He said gently. "Kill me. Right now. Just a little shove off this cliff."

"Shut up." She said through her hands. "You have_" She stopped, her eyes growing wide. Haymitch realized she was about to admit that Haymitch had family at home. People to win the games for. "You have a future." She recovered. "You're a genius."

"And a drunk. And a cynic."

"Shut up, just shut up." She stood back up, stretching out her back and eyeing up their surroundings. "The more you talk, the harder it'll be to walk away."

Haymitch nodded, knowing she wasn't going to let it drop.

He swallowed his emotions and stood up, following her lead.

"I won't be too sappy, but_"

"Then don't say anything." Haymitch retorted. He was feeling too many things right now. His head wasn't clear.

Maislee shrugged, as if that's what she expected. She rifled through her backpack and handed Haymitch half of the rations, and extra bandages for his head wound.