Two Evils ◦ Finnick Odair

nove; love is weird

TWO EVILS.

09. NOVE: LOVE IS WEIRD

❝Hickory dickory dock, the dog barked at the clock.❞

Suddenly, everything seemed to fit into place. The different attacks, the circular arena, even the cornucopia that pointed at the Lightning tree. It all made sense now. Wiress was the one to figure it out, and it took everything in Grier not to scoff at the older woman and call her completely crazy. Even if she was crazy, she was a genius. Without her, maybe they'd be dead when the next hour approached and the newest threat stepped into the spotlight.

A clock. The damn arena was a clock and the Capitol was screwing with them.

The group was making their way off of the hazardous beach where they could be attacked set any moment and headed for the cornucopia. Surprisingly, it was still filled with supplies that could last them for days. Knives, arrows, small packs, rope, blanket, spears, axes - really any weapon that they provided in the Games. She guessed that each tribute took what they really needed to survive. After all, they had all done this before and had their own tactics, their own way to survive.

Grier sighed as she watched Katniss walk ahead, describing how the sectors worked. "This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock. With a new threat every hour. But they stay only within their wedge. It all starts with the lightning. Then blood rain fog and monkeys. That's the first four hours." She explained, walking farther into the cornucopia. "At ten that big wave heads from over there."

"Wiress, you're a genius." Finnick spoke, relief tinging his voice as he passed the older woman who had stopped just at the edge of the Cornucopia. Grier gave the woman a brief nod, probably the only kind gesture she had ever given the mad woman. 

"Okay, so it's a bloody clock. Literally." Grier said, staring at the bloodied reflection of herself in the water below them. The crusted and smeared blood that was wiped across her face had faded leaving a slight pink trail that hadn't washed off in the lake, and her nose seemed to not be broken, the swelling it once held had reduced back to its normal size. She let her gaze lift, looking to Peeta who seemed to be staring at the lightning tree off in the distance. "What else?"

"Well, the tail points at twelve." Peeta's eyes left the lightning tree, turning toward the others.

"That's where the lightning strikes at noon and midnight." Katniss explained.

Grier sat down on the rocky ground of the cornucopia, exhausted. Her machete fell limply to her side, the hilt stained with traces of mutt blood, but nothing else. At least it wasn't a person. Not yet. 

"Strikes where?" Beetee asked, speaking for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Katniss pointed over his shoulder, out into the mess of the forest at the largest tree. It stood out, being a good twenty feet taller than any of the forest trees. It was a landmark easily identifiable in the surrounding woods which would probably be helpful later on. "That big tree."

Grier eyed the tree wearily, afraid of what could come from just that tree alone. Beetee nodded, glancing at the tree in the distance. "Good."

She was so focused on the tree, waiting for something, anything to happen to it, that she hadn't noticed Peeta sneak up from behind her, and grab her machete. He quickly made his way over to the black sand that covered the Cornucopia, tracing the faint outline of the clock into the black crystals. The scratching of the sand brought Grier's gaze away from the tree, and onto Peeta who was still holding her machete.

Without thinking, Grier stood up, anger bubbling deep inside her, ready to pound the boys face in for taking what was hers. She was reaching out, hand curled into a fist as she stormed over to him. "Hey! You little sh--"