Snowdrop

Chapter 15

  By morning, Ember is stirring. He stretches and winces, then his arm goes automatically around me.
"You stayed awake all night?" he says softly.
I shrug. Though I was tired, I forced myself to keep my eyes open.
"You should sleep. I'm okay now."
"I am, too. There might be some painkillers in the bags if you need them."
Ember tilts my head up so I'm looking at him. He's got that slightly stern, slightly disappointed look on his face, like I've just been caught stealing his food. "You don't have to keep pretending everything's okay. I don't mind if you cry. I'm supposed to be looking after you, not the other way round."
"I'm not pretending," I lie. Truth is, I'm sick of the Games now. It's only been a week, but the days seem to be stretching longer and longer.
I'd love for Ember to just drop everything and look after me like he did back home, sneaking me extra slices of bread at dinner and taking me to that mangy old tree in the Meadow so we can climb up and pretend we're flying. But we're in the Games now, and it's becoming more apparent that I'll never have any luxuries like that out here.
"Really, Melia. Stop fibbing. I know you're not happy, and I don't blame you. I'm not happy here either. But Mom made me promise to look out for you when we said goodbye, and that's what I'm trying to do. You looked after me so well yesterday; see? I can hardly feel a thing now!" He holds up his arms, then sucks his teeth. "Okay, maybe I can feel a little bit of a sting. Just let me take care of you."
I edge away from him, a little irritated. Then it hits me like a tonne of bricks – I'm growing up. I'm growing up too fast. While of course I was never going to have a storybook childhood, the Games have ripped away what little shreds of innocence I still had left.
Reluctantly, I lean over and hug him. "Sorry... I – I don't... I'm just – ugh. I hate it out here." Ember wraps his arm around me gingerly, as if he's not quite sure if he should. "I feel like I'm constantly having to act older, you know? If it weren't for the stupid Games, we'd be back home, going to school or finding a job. We wouldn't be slowly starving to death – because let's face it, we're almost out of food already. We wouldn't be constantly fearing for our lives. You wouldn't be hurt and I wouldn't be trying to keep out the infection."
"Don't worry about me. If it weren't for you, I'd have bled out yesterday." There he goes again, trying to comfort me. Trying to make it seem like I'm perfect and I've never done anything wrong. Somehow it's worse than if he just shouted at me like I did in the Training Centre. I just can't accept any of his praise; it all seems hollow.
"And if it weren't for me and my stupid stubbornness Rouge wouldn't have targeted you. She's out to get us because of me. You'd be fine if I hadn't tried to one-up her during training."
This time it's Ember who pulls away. He cups my face in his hands and looks right at me, his expression stern. "Melia Cressview, don't you ever think this is your fault. You stood up for yourself in training. You showed that you're stronger than you look. So don't, for one second, think you're to blame for this."
There's a muffled groan a few metres away, and Cella sits up. She stretches and rubs the back of her neck. "Ugh, bloody ground. Got a crick in my neck. Did you stay up all night? You should have woken me, we were supposed to take shifts."
"I was fine," I reply. "Could you please get the bandages? I need to change Ember's."
She gives me a look before rifling through the packs and tossing me several dressings, a roll of tape and some pins. "You act so grown-up, Melia. Maybe you should let me do this."
I shake my head fervently. "No, it's alright. It's time I start acting my age anyway."
As I peel away yesterday's dressings, I see Ember mouth something over my head. The cuts look much better, still deep but less angry. I rinse them again, ignoring Ember when he tenses.
"Melia, what's got into you? You were so careful yesterday," Cella says.
I throw down the rag and get to my feet. "You know what? You do it then. I'm going hunting." I snatch up my knife and Ember's coil of wire.
"Hmm – what?" Bailey rubs her eyes blearily, mumbling as she's ripped from sleep.
"Melia, wait! Come back, you know that's not what I –"
"Melia Cressview, get back here right now!"
I turn for a second, reverting right back to the petty little cow I was in the training centre. "You're not my father! You couldn't stop me even if you tried, because you had to go and get yourself injured. Just leave me alone." With that, I stomp away.
This time it's hard for me to calm down. I've been walking for at least five minutes, my jaw clenched and my fingers growing numb around the wire before I even begin to think that maybe I was in the wrong. Again.
But it's the fact that my little 'show' was probably broadcast across the whole country that pulls me up short. Sponsors. Potential sponsors saw that. They're probably thinking that I pretended to be so close with Ember just so we could milk the situation and gain as much money as we could.
I curse under my breath, slouching against a tree. Mother and Kaitlynn would gasp hearing me use such words, but I don't care anymore. They're not the ones in a death match. They're not the ones who constantly have to look over their shoulders in case someone tries to plunge a knife into their backs.
"You're a bloody idiot," I mutter, actually smacking my forehead in frustration. The coil slips from my grasp and I slide to the ground. "You're so goddamn stupid."
Tears force a lump into my throat. I sniff deeply and swipe at my nose with my sleeve, as if that'll have any effect. I choke on a sob. I've ruined any chance I had at getting sponsors because my stupid temper got in the way. If it weren't for Cella...
But Cella saved Ember.
Or did she? Did she just say she saved him because she knew he couldn't speak for himself?
Why would she lie?
She's a stranger, and a dangerous one at that.
She saved you, too.
But she's too handy with that weapon.
She could have let that boy kill you so easily...
"No! No, stop it!" My fingers have locked in my hair, my fists pounding against my skull to ward off the battling thoughts. I rock back and forth, trying unsuccessfully to gulp back sobs. My boots connect with the knife and send it skittering across the snow. "Stop it, stop!"
Tears drip down my chin and into the collar of my coat. My nose runs but I don't try to wipe it. If a tribute were to come barrelling through the forest, I wouldn't be capable of stopping them. I'm completely vulnerable, just like I was on the first night in this awful place.
"Melia?"
"Go away, Ember! Just go away." I shake my head furiously, squeezing my eyes shut.
Careful footsteps approach, but I don't move from my position on the ground.
"I'm – I'm not Ember. What happened to you? Has he been hurt?" The person stops just inches from me. From here I could easily kick and take his legs out from under him, though I don't want to. Joints crack and he lets out an almost inaudible groan.
"Why are you crying?" His voice is gruff now, as though he's losing his patience. Standard Haymitch behaviour.
"'M not," I mutter, though my voice – thick with snot and tears – says otherwise.
"Come on, open your eyes." His hands pull mine away from my head, firmly but with a slight kindness that suggests he's dealt with something similar before.
For a moment I consider refusing. What's he got to do with me? What good would it do him to help me? But then his fingers tighten around my wrists and my eyes snap open. I'm all set to yell at him, but something stops me.
His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath. His left eye is slightly swollen, a purple bruise working its way across his cheekbone. There's a cut on his lip and another set of smaller red marks on his neck.
"You've been in the wars," I say.
"You don't look so great yourself," he replies, gesturing to my face and the faded blood on my coat. I swipe a hand from my forehead to my chin and it comes away streaked with red. How could I possibly forget to clean my face after yesterday?
"Now, why were you crying? And don't try telling me you didn't, because that's obviously a lie."
"Doesn't matter. Why don't you tell me why you look like you've been attacked by the Careers?" I scowl at Haymitch, but he just rolls his eyes.
"Because, sweetheart, I was attacked by the Careers," he says sarcastically. "You still haven't answered my question."
I huff, reaching out to pick up the knife again. I twirl it between my fingers. "I was crying because I'm an idiot."
Haymitch scoffs, settling back on his haunches. "I wouldn't say that. A bit rash and having bad judgement, maybe, but certainly not stupid. You managed to make the Gamemakers think you were worth something, anyway."
"What good do the Gamemakers matter? I'll still die! I just ruined any chances Ember and I had of getting sponsors."
"Why do you say that?"
I get the feeling he'll keep probing until I tell him everything. "I yelled at him. Blamed him for getting hurt yesterday even though it wasn't his fault. I stomped off in a huff and said I was going hunting because I can't control my temper."
Haymitch is silent for a moment. Then he makes a strange, choked-up sound. Before I know it, he's laughing his head off, actually clutching at his stomach.
"What?" I snap. "What? What's so funny?"
"You are stupid!" he cries, laughing even harder when he sees my face. "Do you really think the Capitol will care about a sibling squabble? Hell, they're so stupid they'll think it was all planned!"
I feel my face softening. "You... you really think they would?"
"Of course they would," he replies, sitting up again. "Come on, we're talking about people who value gemstones in their skin over eating."
My mouth twitches. I try hard to keep a stern – or at the very least, neutral – expression, but it's hopeless. Within seconds, I'm giggling at just how silly this whole thing is.
"Right then. You're feeling a bit less self-pitying?" Haymitch says, and I nod. "Good. So Ember's hurt?" He gets to his feet.
"Yeah. We were attacked by the Careers. He made Bailey and I run while he stayed behind with Cella. Rouge – that girl from One – slashed his arms and chest..."
The smile fades from his face as he helps me to my feet. "Well, come on. Let's set a few snares and then go back to the group. I've got someone to thank, anyway."
As we walk, he takes the coil of wire from my hands. "Do you know how to set snares?" I shake my head. "Well, I'm gonna show you. You know how to tell if an animal's been past, right?"
I think for a moment. "There might be droppings, or footprints... and they'll probably be near a source of food. Like berries, or trees, or a lake."
For the next little while, Haymitch has me cut a hook out of two sticks. We rig up a snare using the wire, a rock and a low-hanging branch, and he places some meat carefully down in the middle of the trap.
Then Haymitch takes my hand and we creep away. I realise that, for the first time in the last three weeks, I'm almost completely relaxed. It almost doesn't feel like I'm in the Games at all. Just wandering through the forest in the middle of winter in a comfortable silence, nobody trying to threaten or harm me, no imminent danger.
"Where did you learn how to set snares?" I ask after a while. Haymitch starts, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
"The Training Centre, where else? Just like how you learned how to throw a knife and identify poisonous plants," he replies. "How much longer until we get to the others?"
"Not much," I say, and we fall silent again, crunching through the snow. I notice it starts to melt the further we walk, and soon a layer of sweat coats my face.
"Oh, so you're back," a voice calls ahead of us. Bailey glares at me, her hands on her hips as we emerge from the trees. "And you brought a guest, too. Another mouth to feed and you didn't even bring game like you promised."
As I open my mouth to deliver her a biting remark, Haymitch speaks up. "Actually, we set up some snares. There should be food before tomorrow."
Before he's even finished his sentence, the ground trembles. For a moment I think it's a mine explosion because the tremors feel so similar, and screams of trapped miners echo in my brain. But the shaking doesn't stop. Birds screech overheard, flying from their trees so quickly they seem to have engines attached to them.
We barely have time to call out before the world behind us explodes into fire and ash.