Hereafter

Hereafter: Part I Crossing Over, Chapter 11

11

I MANAGED A LITTLE SLEEP before waking early to begin last-minute preparations. Soon I’m in the hovercraft, riding to the arena site. Cinna’s there in the Launch Room and helps get me into the clothes and gear all tributes begin the Games with. Cinna’s worried, tries to reassure me, but the only emotion I’m consumed with is the determination to survive. That rage to live overcomes any normal inclination I might have had to be scared or immobilized with fear. The moment of truth had arrived. It was time to step into the launch tube.

A short ride to the surface and I am one of 24 tributes waiting for the 60-second countdown—our minds racing with anticipation bordering on blind panic. I keep telling myself not to leap off the pedestal early. That much was easy. What I still hadn’t decided yet was whether or not to follow the advice Haymitch gave me not to go for the cornucopia. A few seconds left and my eye catches the bow and arrows in with the weapons section. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two.

The Games had begun!

About the same number of tributes scatter for cover as race for the Cornucopia, and Peeta is among those heading for the weapons and supplies. I hesitate, waiting to see what develops before formulating a plan. As predicted, a bloody series of confrontations break out. Several tributes are killed instantly, but no one has grabbed the bow.

Peeta is one of the first to die. From what I could see, he didn’t even seem to be defending himself—as if he didn’t want to live, like he was committing suicide by Hunger Games. I wish I could say I cared when I see him slashed across the neck, but at this moment it’s all about me.

Believing it’s worth the risk, and counting on the diversion of the fierce hand-to-hand combat going on, I race for the Cornucopia. In full stride I pick up a backpack on the way, my path to the bow still apparently clear. A few steps from my prize, two pairs of combatants backed into each other right where the bow is, knocking it over. In the midst the mêlée, I am able to grab the bow, but not the arrows.

Knowing it would be risky to press my luck by going for anything else, not to mention I’m scared to death, I choose a direction to head for the woods, but Clove, the ruthless Career from District 2, deadly with knives, draws a bead on me, lets a knife fly, but I’m able to turn, allowing the lethal blade to sink deep into my backpack. A gold-medal 100-meter-dash sprint to the woods and I’m out of danger for the moment. I had a bow, but no arrows, so that becomes my first priority, to make some.

Within an hour of the start of the Games, the first cannons go off indicating the rash of deaths at the Cornucopia.   

I keep moving until I find an isolated spot in the woods. A few hours pass and hunger pangs reminded me of the advice Haymitch gave of the critical importance to find food, water, and adequate shelter. Locating a spring, I was able to fill my backpack flask with water. Using the knife, thoughtfully provided by Clove, I was able to set up several snares. I took shelter in a cave after camouflaging the entrance. Next, I set about trying to remember everything my father taught me about making arrows.

By nightfall more cannons go off and projected in the sky are the images of the fallen tributes. Peeta, as I suspected, is among them, but not Rue. Apparently her strategy to let the rest of us kill each other was working so far. The flaw in Rue’s plan, the Gamemakers had ways of flushing out any tribute who was trying to hide and avoid the lethal gory confrontations that drove the media ratings.

I gather 10 adequate long, straight shafts, wooden stock cut from a nearby bush. The arrow heads I make by chipping stones. Wandering in my sector, I find the carcass of a dead bird and harvest the feathers. I find a pine tree oozing sticky sap which I am able to use as glue. It takes all night, my work lit by one of those shake-me LED flashlights I found in my backpack, and by morning I have arrows. A few punctures in my backpack and I also have a makeshift quiver.