Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 3 - Tender's Twist of Treason (BM)

Beckett woke with a start, his breaths coming and going like fish jumping in and out of water. He jerked to a sitting position and ignored the dizziness that rushed over him from moving so quickly. Corradhin, Corradhin! Where are you? His eyes scanned the environment frantically, searching for his old friend, but found nothing but a fresh blanket of snow, a few jagged rocks, and towering green trees whose branches were weighted down by the white fluff. A hand appeared in front of his eyes, waving.

"Hello? Earth to Beckett?" He followed the arm until his eyes landed on a face, her features soft and concerned. Bellona gave him a soft smile. "Feeling any better?"

Once the realization kicked in, he dropped his face in his hands. Just a silly dream. I should've known. Corradhin would never apologize for what he did. He never was one for admitting he was in the wrong. Even when he assisted me in the stealing...At least I still don't do it.

"What's up with him?" Anastasia asked, her mouth full of bits of dried fruit.

"I don't know..." Bellona trailed off. "Hey, can you talk?"

Beckett shook his head. He already knew it was pointless to try. His vocal chords had probably been fried or something, and the inside of his throat was raw. Each intake of air sent irritation down his esophagus. Maybe if I make it out of here the Capitol can fix me up all nice. Hah, I wish. I'm only holding off the inevitable by waking up this morning. He glanced down at his fingers with dread. Blisters, welts, same as the day before. The only difference from yesterday was the lack of oily water streaking his skin, and most of the burn blisters had been popped. He was thankful they had only been small ones.

In all his years working in the searing heat, suffering from the worst of sunburns, he'd never imagined how badly something like this would hurt. He didn't think he'd have to, not even when he was reaped into this big bowl of bloodshed.

Bellona's voice brought him out of his examination. "Well, the kid from Eight brought these by, said they were for you." She handed him a bundle of bandages, half used. Beckett took it curiously, trying his best to ignore the sting in his hands. "We already patched up the bites, but I think you should do something about your burns. Oh, and the guys exact words were: 'Make sure Softie returns the favor sometime.'"

With a final smile, she patted his shoulder, his bad one, and walked off to join Ana. Beckett tried his best to not wince when she touched his bandaged bite mark. Wasting no time, he yanked his gloves off, biting the inside of his cheek when pain flared over the welts on his hands. The bandages were made of some gauzy material, soft against his skin. He began with wrapping it around his palm, where there was less injury. When he got to his fingers, he had no choice other than to tough it out. Even if he could scream, he bit it back. A tiny drop of blood slipped from a new wound on his lip.

When he finished up, he slipped his gloves back on. It was much easier that time. Not to mention, warmer. He was grateful for the kind act Cameron had done for him, and he planned to return the favor.

Just as Beckett was about to depart in search of the boy, Ana placed a hand on his shoulder, the good one this time, and slipped something next to the bandages in his pocket. "It came in a sponsor package this morning with your name attached. Thought you might want it."

With no further words, she went back to the fire she'd been tending and Beckett took off into the dangers of the forest. Snow had pretty much concealed any trail left by another tribute, but there was still a faint outline of a shoe left every couple inches and, assuming it was Cameron's trail, he followed it. As he walked, the paper in his pocket felt like a dead weight. I don't need to be distracted. But curiosity killed the cat, and he pulled out the note and gave it a quick skim. By the second sentence he was glued to every word.