Voices of the Dead: A Hunger Games FanFiction ©

7. Smalls

It was hard to keep believing that Macon was still alive. Honestly, the only reason I still had the slightest of hopes was because there had never been a cannon and his face had never appeared in the sky. The fire had been horrible though, loud and roaring, if Macon had indeed somehow managed to escape it’s fiery grasp, he was probably injured and ready to die at any moment. It would only be a matter of time.

After finally convincing Bodey to leave, we ran off into the night, not stopping until the fire was far behind us. I’d felt incredibly paranoid staying there; sure that at any moment the careers or any other tribute would show up. As the night drew to a close and a new day began, we decided to make camp near different group of collapsed buildings.

My stomach rumbled but I knew better than to just dig into the little food we had left.  “We’re going to have to learn to ration this stuff better, we’re almost down to the last bits,” I said, realizing just how much we’d depended on Macon to keep us alive.

 “Wait, why don’t I go hunting!” Bodey said enthusiastically, showing me his slingshot and the dagger he kept in his belt. “Remember when those jabberjays were attacking me? I killed a bunch, it shouldn’t be too hard to find other birds.”

“No, we shouldn’t split up. It’s not safe to go out there alone.” I insisted, shaking my head in disapproval.

“But I’d be right back, I would just take like a couple minutes to find us some food.”

“No Bodey, you have to stay.”

Bodey jutted his lip out and slumped to the ground. “Don’t act like you know better, we’re the same age,” he snorted, “I’m a good hunter, and at least I know how to use a weapon. You haven’t even used that blowgun I got you.”

Anger immediately flared within me. He was trying to give me advice? How ridiculous! Regardless of our physical age, I was definitely the more mature of the two. I’d been raised in a home full of boys that had lived in the streets, literally starving to death and doing all they could to survive. I’d been forced to grow up emotionally.

“Oh really? We’re the same age? Coulda’ fooled me with how you were acting last night,” I snapped, turning on him, “you risked both our lives screaming like a kid back there. And I know how to use a weapon, I just choose not to.”

Bodey jumped to his feet and jabbed a finger at me. “I was worried about Macon! The real question is why weren’t you? He risked his life for us and you didn’t even bat an eye when he didn’t come out of that house.” He huffed angrily. “You probably never even really cared about him.”

How dare he! Just because I knew how to keep calm and think didn’t mean I didn’t care.

 “I was worried, but freaking out about it wasn’t going to help anything. If someone had heard us, we’d have been killed on the spot, and then Macon’s sacrifice would’ve been for nothing,” I hissed. “Don’t pretend to know me Bodey. I did and still do care about Macon, and that’s why I’m telling you to stay here. He wouldn’t want you running around risking your life.”

 “Fine, I’ll stay,” Bodey finally answered after an awkward pause. He sighed and ran a hand though his hair.

Somehow, I didn’t quite believe him. With the problem supposedly over, we both set up camp when the sun began to set. The whole time though, I kept having the feeling that something was about to happen. Worried he’d flee if he was left to guard, I volunteered to take the first shift.

Try as  I might though, my eyes were heavy with sleep and I wasn’t used to not taking a break. When Macon had been with us we’d barely had to be awake at all. I must’ve drifted off at some point, because the moment I heard an odd snap, my head jerked back and I saw Bodey was gone.