The Games - A YouTuber Fanfic

The Games Part Six

(DISCLAIMER: THIS PART CONTAINS SCENES OF VIOLENCE AND STRONG LANGUAGE. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.)

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Jack had been running so long that he was positive no one would find him. Dismayed at the thought, he paused for a moment just outside of a clearing to catch his breath. The air around him pressed down, making each breath feel more like he was inhaling water instead of oxygen. He wiped a hand across his sweat soaked forehead and scanned the area quickly for signs of life.

“Where the fuck is Finn?” He whispered angrily.

When the horn had sounded he raced out and made a short nod to Finn before taking off to the right. He narrowly missed tripping over Craig’s fallen body as he made his way towards the jungle. The nod was their signal to stick together, but where was his brother now? Finn and him had had a plan, but would it work? In the moments they had last night before the nurses came, they strategized how they could stay alive and exit – together. His brother was supposed to be following him but as he looked around now, he saw no sign of him. Panic gripped him every time the horn went off, signaling a new death. Relief flooding him every time Finn’s name wasn’t announced.

Cursing him silently, he crept forward slowly into the clearing, taking each step as carefully as he could. In the middle of the clearing he spotted a pickaxe attached to a black backpack. He surveyed the area, not wanting to take any chances. Making a beeline for it, he bent down and scooped up the backpack and slung it over his back, while his other hand brandished the pickaxe. He stood up and spun around in a complete circle, making sure no one was around him. He hesitated for just a moment before disappearing through the trees on the other side of the clearing to continue his fruitless search for Finn.

*

Travis lay concealed under a large bush as his body burned with fever. Against his will, he went into spasms that shook him violently, paralyzing him. He was dying and there was nothing he could do to fight against it.

When the horn had sounded, he was the only one to hang back and wait. At the time, he thought his plan was clever. Let everyone else get ahead of him, so he could have the advantage of sneaking up from behind. It had worked up until PJ had shot him in the side of the neck with a poison dart. Travis had been walking slowly into the jungle, a pack full of food slung across his shoulder. No one had even noticed it sitting on the edge of the trees, and Travis had seized the opportunity to snatch it up. Now as he lay there, shivering on the ground, he used up the last of his thoughts wishing he had done more with his life. He had been stupid to think that everyone would just keep running, and the consequence for his stupidity was the fast burning poison coursing through him.

PJ had come out of nowhere, raising his blowgun and firing the dart before Travis had time to react. He had looked horrified at what he had done, but took off before Travis could find out. His body swayed while he slugged his way through the dense jungle, his body growing weaker with every step. The pack slipped from his shoulder and crashed to the ground, spilling the food it carried within. He stumbled a few more steps before he fell to his knees, vomiting into the dirt. He brought his hand up to his neck and pulled the dart out, too late to stop the poison. He tried to stand back up and failed, collapsing under the weight of his body and falling face first into a pile of fallen leaves. He lay there unable to move, dirt slowly filling his mouth and nose. Using the last of his strength he flung himself to the side, managing to roll over and land on his back underneath the bush. His body took in great heaving breaths, fighting for the life inside of him. His eyes rolled around in their sockets, shifting his line of vision in and out of focus. Incoherent thoughts raced through his brain as the world spun around him, turning his stomach. His heart sped up, beating a violent pattern against his ribcage, trying to break free. Foam ran from the edges of his mouth as he choked and gagged on dirt and saliva. His body convulsed violently like a marionette on strings, shaking the bush above him. His unseeing eyes spun faster, shifting in all directions. Everything that had made up who he was had been burned away from the inside out as the poison ate away at his brain. When the worst of it had passed, his body lay motionless. The horn sounded above him, falling on his dead ears.