The 65th Hunger Games - EDITING

Chapter thirty-five

As soon as there is enough light for me to see properly, I sneak out of my hideout and start walking in a random direction. I'm ready now; it's today that it's going to happen. I'm going to find someone, anyone, and I'm going to fight my way out of here. I don't know who it's going to be, but I won't back down until I hear at least one cannon that went off because of me. I might look like a horrible person, a monster even, but I know this sound is going to become music to my ears. Every detonation is bringing me closer to my goal, to home.

I only have to walk for an hour or so before I finally see what I assume to be the path of another tribute. It seems to be quite fresh, a few hours top. I haven't seen any large animal, or any animal apart from the mutts for that matter, so it can only be something made by another contestant. I just need to analyze the situation and find the direction in which the person was going. There are no clear foot prints, so it's kind of hard to tell. I look around, trying to find something that is going to help me. I try to remember what Adenias told us during training. It wasn't part of what he initially decided to teach us, but he thought it could be useful in the arena. He was right.

I look closely at the broken twigs and the crumpled leaves on the ground. After a while, I finally spot something that may be relevant. One of the low branches of a tree is bended in an unnatural angle. Someone could easily have broken it trying to pass between the two trees. From the way it is, I can only suppose that the tribute was heading towards the center of the arena. I get up, a smile on my face. I don't know if I'm right, but I have no other choice but to follow my gut.

I'm not sure if I'm getting better at this, but as I walk, the trail is starting to become more and more easy to follow. Encouraged by this, I accelerate. It doesn't take too long before I find a small fire pit. It's clear that someone slept here during the night. There's a pile of leaves that probably had the purpose of a bed. What is left of the fire is still hot and fuming which means it was still burning very recently. I finally understand why the trail is easier to follow; whoever was here is becoming weaker and doesn't care about covering up a trail anymore. At this point in the Games, the lack of sponsors can become fatal. The path is heading directly towards the Cornucopia where all the drinkable water is stocked. This is the last attempt at surviving of a scared child. I need to find that tribute before the Careers. I know they're going to enjoy that kill, maybe even take their time with it to please the Capitol's people. I can't let them do that. Only one of us is going home and no matter whose trail I'm following, there's no chance that this person is getting out alive of a fight with the Careers. At this point, the only humane thing I can do is give him, or her, a fast and painless death and it's better than nothing. I start running until I can't follow the path anymore. I stop, looking frantically around. How could I have lost it? It was right there, clear as day. Then, it hits me. I didn't lose it. There is simply nothing else to follow. It stops here; as if the tribute disappeared out of thin air. How is it even possible? I turn around at the sound of movement behind me. He's standing there, a knife in his hand, looking at me. He has a backpack on his shoulders, but it looks empty. He probably stole it from someone. His clothes are dirty, covered in a thick layer of dirt. No, it's not dirt; it's blood, dried blood. He has the eyes of an old man who has seen all the horror the world has to offer; he looks done with it all. He reminds me of my best friend, Cyprian. They're approximately the same height and they have the exact same hair color: a dark brown with paler highlights at the end.

I tighten my grip on my knife's handle, preparing for a fight. I don't want to make the first move so I wait. Maybe if I can act as if it was self defense, I'll feel less bad about what I'm about to do.

Without warning, he starts running in my direction and jumps on me, sendingboth of us rolling on the ground. During the violent fall, I lose my knifesomewhere in the leaves. The same thing must have happened to him because hekicks me in the ribcage before crawling to his left, trying to reach somethingthat I can't see. I grasp his ankle and pull him back until I'm able to grabhis shirt to restrain him from going further. He kicks me again, trying to freehimself, but I don't give up. Still holding onto his clothes, I pull myselfover his back and slid my right arm under his neck. Just like my brother taughtme years ago, I shoot my left hand behind my opponent's head and letmy right hand rest on my bicep while my right hand pusheson the back of his head to strangle him. I don't exactly remember why mybrother showed me how to do this or under which circumstances he thought it'dbe a good idea, but I'm thankful he did. I squeeze as hard as I can, but he'sway stronger than I anticipated and somehow break himself free. He turns aroundand pushes me away with both of his foot in a violent kick, making me fall onthe ground. He gets over me and start strangling me, just like the tribute boy fromtwo did at the Cornucopia. Only, this time, Cedar is not there and I have noone to rescue me. I'm on my own. As black spots start appearing in front of myeyes, I search the ground with my hand, eager to find something that could helpme in this fight that could easily be my last. Each movement, even theslightest seems to be costing me way too much energy. As I'm about to give upand fall into the darkness that is slowly taking over me, I touch somethinghard from the tip of my fingers.