The 55th Hunger Games

Chapter 18

       An hour later we are once again trudging along the stream. The backpack is on my back once more, the knife securely inside it. I would have been content to leave it behind. I no longer want anything to do with the foul object. But Aponi, insisting that we might need it, went off quickly to find it and brought it back. I hope she is handy with it, because I'm not touching it ever again. I sorely wish I had not taken it from the poor District 10 boy in the first place.

        We walk until sun set, weary and starving. Our search has led us nowhere, and the smouldering guilt inside me rekindles itself, stirring me up until I feel I can take it no longer. I try to block it out, but I can't quite manage it.

        "Come on Aponi," I say, gently gripping her hand to lead her off, "We will go and make up camp."

        My stomach cripples me with hunger as we make up camp. The ground beneath our feet is wet and we make the decision again to cover our sleeping spot with pine needles. They insulated us well last night and they should work as well tonight.

        Preferably I would choose to sleep in a tree over this, but since Aponi grew up in wheat fields, I don't think it would work. She mustn't have done much climbing before. But then again, she had told everyone in her interview that she lay up on top of the roof of a rocketing train.

        "Aponi," I ask as we strip pine branches, "Have you done much climbing before?"

        "I have climbed a bit back at home. I can balance on the rungs on the silos and do not fear heights, but I am certainly not as good at climbing as you are."

        For some strange reason I feel a hint of pride stir inside me, but I quickly push it aside.

        "What are silos?" I ask her.

        "They're large metal cylinders where we keep the grain we harvest." She informs me. "We have many hundreds of them back home."

        "How much grain does District 9 produce?" I ask to keep the conversation going.

        "Well, much of our supply also comes from District 11. You know they grow grain on their farms too?"

        "Do they?" I ask. "I thought that was only a District 9 thing."

        She shakes her head. "Oh no, we mostly just process it in our factories, but we do have many grain fields in our district too."

        "Oh," I say. "That's interesting. I didn't know about that."

        "I didn't think you would." She says matter-of-factly, "Our districts don't have much contact with one another. I don't know much about District 7 either." Then she says rather startlingly, "I think it's silly how the Capitol keeps us apart. How do they expect us to understand how the rest of Panem is going?"

        "I don't think they want us to Aponi." I reply, hoping the gamemakers aren't taking too much interest in this conversation. "When we are apart we are weak, and their hold on us remains strong."

        She thinks this over for a moment. "They really are tyrants aren't they?"

        I nod very slowly, hoping the growing darkness will cover it just a little.

        Then, very unexpectedly, the sky rings with the blare of trumpets. We both jump, startled, and turn our faces up towards the sky. Not that there's anything to see, but the trumpets seem to be blaring from there, so that's where we look.