Game On

Chapter 5

I break into a run. Good thing I’m notoriously fast. I used to win races against my schoolmates all the time back home.  Joules used to call me a human lightning bolt. One minute I’m on my plate, the next, I’m at the Cornucopia. I loop a hand through one of the bags, and in a flash, I escape the impending bloodbath.

Nine cannons go off as I run. I trust that Cameron’s not one of the dead, because I told him to follow me. He’s just as fast as I am, so he must not be far behind. Deep in the pine tree forest, I stop running and scan the area for him. Then I see a coat sleeve poking out from behind one of the trees. My pulse races. What if it’s one of the other, less-friendly tributes?

“Pst, Wiress! Over here!” It’s definitely Cameron’s voice.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I say, settling down next to him. “Now, let’s see what’s in our bags.”

I have a pocketknife, water bottle, a loaf of bread, some apples, a blanket, and a rope. Nothing that I can use to make a bomb or create an electric charge. But I did well enough when I trained for hand-to-hand combat. Two weapons are better than none.  

“Ooh! Can I have one of your apples? I’m so hungry,” Cameron begs, reaching for my bag.

I move it out of the way quickly. “No. We just ate. These will be for when we absolutely can’t stand our growling stomachs anymore. When we feel like we’re gonna pass out. In the meantime, don’t think about food. Believe it or not, we can last for a few days without it. It’s water we need to find.”

“Then we have to melt some snow,” he replies matter-of-factly.

I nod.  “Let’s scoop some up in our bottles. Then the sun should melt it enough to become a liquid. But we still have to wait for it to sanitize.”

“I’m fine with that,” Cameron says, shrugging. “I’m always less thirsty when it’s cold.”

After we fill up our bottles, I decide to scope out more of the arena. “Come on. We shouldn’t stay in one place for too long.”

For now, our goal is to stay away from the others. We walk for hours through the forest, finally coming to a clearing by nightfall.  No cannons have sounded since the bloodbath. I feel better about taking a break at this point, but I still have to stay alert.

“How are you holding up, Cameron?” I ask as we munch on a chunk of bread and apples, taking a swig of our water bottles.

“Fine,” he replies. “It’s not so bad right now.”

When we set off once more, the temperature’s decreased rapidly. We pull the coat hoods over our ears. But moving keeps us warmer than we would be if we just sat around.

At some point, Cameron abruptly stops walking. “Uh, Wiress, we need to turn back.”

“Why?”

A few steps later, I find out. We’re standing on the edge of a massive cliff. Below it, there’s nothing but jagged rocks.

Then the crunching sound of footsteps reaches my ears. I fix my eyes in the direction of the noise, hoping that I won’t need to pull out my knife. It’s in my pocket, ready to be drawn out in a split second.

A silhouette comes into view. One of the boy tributes is sprinting at us. But I don’t think he’s aiming to kill. It looks like he’s running from something. Nothing is following him, though. He must be in a panic, trying to hide from everything. He must not see us in this faint darkness. Only a shred of sunlight remains.

I try warning him. “Hey, there’s a-”

Too late. He falls off the cliff, screaming.

Boom.

As unfazed as possible, I face Cameron. “So, now the question is, where do we sleep? The snow can’t be a comfortable bed, but we have to set up somewhere...”

“Guess what I have!” he cheers. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a tightly rolled-up sleeping bag. “We can take turns sleeping in it, so one of us can keep watch at all times.”

“Great idea, kid,” I say, patting him on the back. “You really hit the jackpot when you grabbed that bag.”

“You get to use it first.”

I wave my hands in protest. “Oh, no, I couldn’t take that from you-”

“Wiress, please. I insist. You’ve been so nice to me.”

Back in the forest, we find a patch of bushes to sleep under. If any tributes come looking for victims, they won’t be able to see us. He sits down, crossing his legs. I unroll the bag and slip inside. It’s so warm, erasing the numbness in my legs and providing unexpected comfort.

Before I completely fall into sleep, the Panem national anthem plays, and we see the faces of today’s fallen tributes. The boy we just saw die was from District 10, and he can’t be that much older than Cameron.

I poke my head out of the sleeping bag. “Are you gonna be warm enough, Cameron?”

“Yeah.”

Another thought crosses my mind. “If you’re thinking about making a fire in the dark, that’s asking to be killed. The others would be able to see it from miles away.”

“I know,” he says, as if I’ve just insulted him. “It’s not that. I’ll just rub my arms and legs together once in a while to put more feeling into them, and I’ll get up sometimes to stretch out. You should try it when your shift comes. It might be extremely cold, but we’re capable of keeping our own bodies warm without fire or light.”

I yawn. “Sounds okay. Goodnight.” Then I remember something. “Oh, wait! I’ve got a blanket you can use, too.” I sit up and rummage through my bag, grabbing the blanket, which Cameron takes gratefully.

“Goodnight, Wiress.”

Under the wintry night sky, I finally find some peace in sleep.