The Tournament of Life

Part 6

 I get hit with the cold breeze, and it reminds me of home when winter nights would cause me and Max to huddle up together. 

My eyes scan the arena, and it's packed in snow. Cinna was right, this is going to be hard to run in. I fix myself and watch as the girl a couple platforms away drops a wooden ball, exploding her into pieces. I blink quickly and look away.

I shield my eyes and erase my mind of what I just saw. "I need to stay in the game," I say to myself as the corner of my eye catches a hovercraft picking the pieces of the dead girl up and into their plane. 

I shudder my body and look at the timer. 

10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. 

When the gong sounds, I jump off of the platform and push as hard as I can to the middle, where one tribute has already landed. I get close enough to a big black backpack that looks useful, and scoop it right up onto my shoulders. I swing an ax into my hands and turn around at the right time just as a knife flies by me. I run away, noticing Max a few yards from me, fighting for his life. 

I cut my axe into the person above my brother, and grab his hand to yank him up and get him to run with me. And we do, off into the snow-covered woods with just an ax and a backpack.

Cannons everywhere. At least 10.

The icicles that hang from the branches on the trees remind me of rain, and I instantly stop and pull the bag from my shoulders. 

In it, I find a metal bottle and a giant knife that I hand to Max. Two ropes, two containers, two flashlights, a pair of goggles, and a blanket. The medium pocket has a plastic bag full of berries, and another one full of beef jerky. 

I cut down some of the ice and place it into the bottle in chopped pieces, hoping it would fit. It did. I place the metal bottle back into the backpack along with the other items I pulled out, Just not Max's knife. 

"Where are we going to sleep tonight?" Max questions as I shrug the bag back on, and turn to him. "We're just going to have to look, Max. I'm sorry. But at least we found a source of water and we're together." He nods and I walk ahead of him, searching around for a cave we can settle down in. We do, by a lake frozen over with ice and snow. 

"Right here." I point to the cave which seems to be pretty dry, and easily accessible by the dead trees over it. I go in first, ax ready to kill anything, but instead we're welcomed with the nice feeling of safety.

"Perfect," Max comments from behind me, and I have to agree because it is. 

I lay the pack down on the ground, pulling the blanket out and spreading it out beside me.

Next, I put the ropes by the top of the blanket, followed by the metal bottle. it's warmer the farther into the cave we go, which is a blessing in disguise. It'll definitely help the water melt inside of the bottle.

I leave everything else in the backpack, keeping the thought of Max in mind as well. If we make a fire inside of the cave, the smoke shouldn't be noticeable.

 I stalk outside into the windy atmosphere and search for a good stick and dry logs, with no success. At least twenty yards from the cave, I finally stumble across a good couple of logs and sticks to match. 

It takes me a good five minutes to carry it all back, as I told Max to stay inside the cave for his own safety. It's a good thing he's not like me.

The parachute that sits in front of him when I get back is unopened, he's just sitting there staring at it. 

"I waited for you to get back, I knew you'd be annoyed if I opened it without you," Max says, shivering. I shed an underlayer and give it to him, hopefully the warmth and sweat I just worked up will keep him warm. 

"Thank you." He mumbles. I nod in response. 

I grab a hold of Max's knife and slice a line of rope so I can make a bow, for starting fires. I tie one end around the bottom of the stick and create a curve at the top, hooking it tight and making sure it stays. I learned this trick from my mother who was a survivalist genius. 

I move the bow back and forth on another stick, creating wood shavings for the base of the fire and work up from there. 

Less than fifteen minutes later, I have it down and the fire is done and running. I rub my hands together and blow my breath into the makeshift hole I created. 

Me and Max open the parachute at the same time, inspecting the object that comes out. It's leather, and has prongs in the end. I realize that it's a hammock, and I almost squeal out of joy. 

"You get the ground, I get the hammock tonight. We'll alternate every day. This is the deal. Whoever sleeps in the hammock that night has to keep watch. That's all." I explain the deal to Max, and he happily agrees with me.

So that night, I took the first watch and ran over the items we have in my head. Two flashlights, two ropes, two containers maybe to store things that need to be kept closed, a blanket which we are using, a metal bottle for water, two bags of easy foods like berries and jerky, and lastly a pair of strange goggles. 

I put them on and the fire becomes bright yellow, along with Max's body. 

"Do these detect warmth?" I ask aloud, Max turning upward towards me.

"Looks like it, yeah." He replies, re-fixing his position on the ground.

I put them away, not liking the impairments they do to my vision after I take them off.

I lay back on the hammock I setup, staring at the cave ceiling. I sway back and forth, closing my eyes and imagining another place farther from this one. 

The anthem for the dead tributes plays for a while, and finally all silence.

The thing that sends me flying out of the hammock and on my feet with my ax within seconds is the sound of a twig snap, the movement of a black shadow in front of our cave. 

A small boy tramples into our space, looking at us with a scared expression. 

"Hello? Are you okay?" I lower my weapon and attempt to get this young boy to talk.

"I'm Erin. You need to leave, now. Or they'll get you." I couldn't tell if he was crazy, or serious. 

"I'm sorry," I cross my arms after setting the ax down. "What?" I squint and glance behind him every minute, just to make sure no one followed him. 

"The careers, They'll get us. We need to go." Max slowly stands, his knife behind his back. I go to lunge for his hand, but it's too late. 

He just killed that boy.