The 45th Hunger Games: The Tribute of District 4 (Watty Awards 2012 completed)

Chapter 22

I was shaken awake by Slate, who was coughing as he kept his head down. I didn’t understand what was happening. I was still sleepy and slightly fatigued.

Then I noticed that there was fog about five feet above the ground. It was a lot thicker though. It wasn’t fog. It was smoke. Slate had my pack and his over his shoulders and he pulled me to my feet.

Tafetta had Lark over his shoulder, as he started coughing and running to the direction where the smoke thinned. Lark was out cold, but she wasn’t dead yet.

It seemed that the threats from the arena were pushing us into the center of the island. It didn’t matter, since the water was consuming the island little by little anyway. This was probably their way of bringing the tributes together for more action in the Games.

I started coughing as well. The smoke stung my eyes and it felt like acid in my throat. It was amazing that Slate was able to guide me at all.

Coming our way was the tribute from 10, coughing and stumbling as he tripped on the few plants. He looked badly wounded, with blood gushing out of his neck and a burn on his thigh.

I was glad that I wasn’t in his part of the forest when he got attacked.

The smoke had done its job and brought us together. The tribute from 10 was outnumbered, definitely, but the Hunger Games wasn’t known for being a place to play fair.

Since Taffeta was carrying Lark, I ended up fighting with him with Slate.

I hadn’t paid attention to this guy at all. All I knew was that he had an 8. I couldn’t help overlooking him. He was pale and skinny. This worked to his advantage as he evaded almost every attack that Slate and me could give at him.

He was slippery. I could give him that. He used our own force against us, and if Slate and I weren’t the kind who could regain balance easily, we would have fell to the ground. I felt something sharp and tiny hit my neck.

I reached at the back of my neck and pulled out a tiny needle.

My vision faded as I saw District 3 tribute running the opposite direction, away from the fight. So she managed the 6 because she could create darts.

I couldn’t believe that my downfall came from a little needle.

The last thing I was aware of was Slate finally spearing him in the gut, and then blood.

Darkness.

~

I woke up, but I was having difficulty breathing. The air seemed damp and the floor underneath cold. What happened to my warm summer day? What happened to the grass?

Above all, why was I still alive?

My lids felt heavy and my tongue was dry. I pried my eyelids open and found that the only Career in front of me was Slate. He had dark circles under his eyes, a wound on his cheek and a busted lip. I couldn’t see if there were any other injuries on his body.

I slowly tried to get up. Seeing that I was awake, he helped me sit up.

“What happened?” I said shakily. He handed me some water to drink. I realized that I was parched and I drank everything in three gulps.

“Lark and Taffeta are dead, Serena.” His face was stoic. “The smoke had come from all sides and everyone was within range of each other. I killed that tribute from 10. The one who injected sleeping herbs into your system got away before the fights started.”

“How many days has it been?”

“About two or three. I’m not too sure. We’ve been here ever since the smoke. I had to give you some water while you slept. Once I found this little hole, cave, whatever, a parachute came and it was something that you inhaled and it put in clean air in your lungs. The coughing stopped. You inhaled a lot of it and I almost thought you would die. I couldn’t get you out of there. Boone came out of nowhere and I had to defend myself to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t get you away.”