FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

3.7 be strong

By the time morning came, Calypso was surprised she was not dead. Then again, it was a little too late to replace her now. She could only hope that her inevitable orchestrated demise in the arena was a swift one if she did not get out quick enough.

She was silent as Vega finished dressing her in the skintight suit, waterproof and insulated, she guessed. She certainly hadn't said anything about it or given her any useful ideas. They'd been friends once, right? Maybe it was the fact that he was left out from all the conspiring, but she'd never felt so much distance between them. It made her sad, in a way, but she had no time to be sad now.

Not when he gave her a smile goodbye, and not when he was raised into the arena. The light was blinding at first, but she could hear the sounds of water under the sound of the countdown. They were surrounded, bound to get wet. In the little time she had, she thought of how Finnick would be fuelled by adrenaline at the sight of it and how her father would be dreading the swim to come and wondering if he'd even make it. Her eyes scanned the podiums for either of them, but she only had time to capture the stare of one ally: Beetee.

The countdown reached zero, and the tributes were off. Calypso dived into the water with Beetee on her mind, one Haymitch had told her to keep an eye on and get to Katniss. Not only that, he was integral to her own schemes. But for now, her sights were on the cornucopia and a spear placed conveniently near her position. It was in her hands before the man behind her had the chance to get close. She didn't even register his face before the tip of the blade was piercing his stomach and pushing him backwards into the water.

Not a second. Not a second to think or breathe or orient herself. Calypso locked in on Beetee once more, already fleeing the cornucopia with a massive reel of wire. Wiress waited on the beach, urging her counterpart forward as he ran. Calypso simply followed, reluctant to leave Finnick and her father behind, but eager to protect the man with the mind to help her enact her destructive plans.

"Keep running," she urged, catching up to the man just as he hit the sand, making her presence known with a hand on his back. "Into the trees. Go."

Neither of the District Three tributes needed to be told otherwise. Their fight-or-flight pushed them straight into the dim canopy of the warm jungle, a far cry from the first arena Calypso had experienced. While the city had stolen her breath through dust and dry air, this one did it through its heat and moisture, threatening to wet her lungs before they could get very far.

But she kept moving until the sounds of death and chaos were distant enough to feel at least a little safe. Her keen senses betrayed no signs of danger and so the trio came to a halt somewhere deep in the directionless green, the beach far out of site.

"Is that wire good enough?" was the first thing she thought to ask while taking a second to stop and think things through. Beetee gave her a sure nod. "So our next issue is finding a power source."

Calypso thought about the chances of hijacking one of the body collection ships or rooting for wires under the cornucopia and podiums. Maybe, somehow, they could turn the power of the forcefield against itself.

"Trust me," Beetee said while Wiress giggled at Calypso's furrowed expression. She knew a fair amount about power from her district, but power and technology were not exactly the same. They had boundless knowledge on her, and she and her Beetee-crafted bionic hand were not about to question his abilities. "I have an idea. You have hairs standing up. It's electricity in the air."

With a careful finger, he pointed towards the edge of Calypso's forehead. When she reached up, a few of the short hairs had gone astray. She brushed them back down and glanced around the trees as if something would make itself known to them. It didn't, but she knew Beetee was right. Something in their vicinity had enough energy for their great escape. And yet, she could not fathom the idea of doing anything before finding their friends.