The 53rd Hunger Games- Two Words

30. Revenge

The fish Hadrian cooks for dinner looks no rawer than the fish he cooked yesterday. If anything, it tastes better. The afternoon was spent resting. Hadrian collected water, and set up the fishing hooks again. He decided to cook dinner as soon dusk was implied by the landscape. Speech between us this afternoon was kept to a minimum. Hadrian needed time to get over what the Gamemakers threw at him. I don’t want to pry, but I want to know why that wave inflicted so much damage upon him. From his behaviour this afternoon, I’ve been able to figure out one thing, at least.

A quiet Hadrian is much more dangerous than a loud one.

He has an expression on his face that scares me. He’s fuming, but he’s bottled it up.

There’s another reason why he’s so quiet. He wants to know who’s dead. There aren’t many of us left; the Capitol is probably interviewing our families and friends as we sit in the arena and wait...

For what?

I hope it isn’t Gladius. I haven’t seen any sign of him since the Cornucopia, but he’s still from home. Hadrian must feel the same way about Marina. A district partner isn’t much, but it’s all you have of home in the arena.

We put out the fire just before the twilight turns to complete darkness. There isn’t much light, but I can still see Hadrian, lit by the moon and the stars, clenching and unclenching his fists.

He must be terrified of what he might see.

After what seems like an eternity of waiting, the anthem begins to play. I start to mouth it, but when I look over to Hadrian, I see that he is unmoving. The seal comes next, and I want to know who died. I wish the Capitol would just hurry up and-

A headshot is shown. Strawberry blond hair. When she was younger, it must have been a deep red. Over the years, the sun has brightened it.

Another Career dead.

Marina.

I look over to Hadrian with what I’m sure is a shocked expression on his face. Marina...who killed her? No one but Gladius or the Careers would have been capable, and Gladius wouldn’t be anywhere near her. By process of deduction, Marina must have been murdered by the Careers.

And Arabella calls the shots.

I’m partially relieved that it isn’t Gladius. He deserves to win just as much as I do, even though I trust him less than Hadrian.

Right now, Hadrian must be feeling seven different kinds of hell.

I sit through the rest of the anthem without moving, like Hadrian. Do I go to him? Do I comfort him? The Gamemakers have already begun to unravel him. What if I pull the delicate work that Hadrian is apart with my unwanted words?

It’s better than pretending it didn’t happen. Ignoring him.

I go over to him. He’s playing with a chunk of charcoal coloured wood, oblivious to the fact that it’s still rather hot. I pry it from his fingers. He doesn’t say anything. It’s like he can’t feel that I’m there.

He’s numb.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “In the end, she wasn’t a bad person.”

“No,” Hadrian says. “She wasn’t, was she?”

There is an uneasy silence. Hadrian is either slipping away, or on the verge of exploding. Whichever it is, I have to play this carefully.

“Do you remember the message the Jabberjays carried to you? The one from me?”

It’s almost like I’m talking to a child.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what the last line was?”