CHAPTER 9
- 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹𝗹
( 𝗯𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 )

For a moment, the world stops. As the strong waves of water slosh over my feet and the breeze makes my lips dry, I can't focus. Everything around me is rippling—the ground, the tributes, the Cornucopia. The gleaming horn is about 40 feet away on a small, circular island, and twelve spokes extend from it with two tributes poised on each end. I focus on my breathing, trying to stop the unyielding dizziness that has suddenly taken control of all my senses. My throat tightens, and as the gong sounds, I do the only thing I can think of.

            I dive into the water, clumsier than my usual perfected form, towards the center and towards the other 23 bloodthirsty tributes. The water cools my face and slips into my mouth when I rise up to take a breath. It's salty, which definitely complicates things. But the waves are easy to navigate through, and I see why the skin-tight jumpsuit was a good option.

            My pace is steady, but before I can make it to the middle, a large body falls on top of me, pushing me deeper into the waves. The person is undeniably male, very much alive, and from the way he shoves me down, very eager for my death. He propels me deeper into the waves, my lungs screaming for air that won't be given anytime soon, so I attempt to maneuver my legs to hit him between the legs. My shot is miscalculated, and my foot swoops to hit nothing. I scream in pain as my back slams into the sandy floor.

             I never knew I would go down this easily. In my own territory, in water where I was practically raised back home. My struggling is useless when his hands lock around my throat, and in the moment, I open my eyes to see Brutus. The beating of my heart slows, and all my previous panic seems to be released at once. Death, it's what I've wished for all these years, to be relieved from the pain and horror. And now, it's finally greeting me. Death's hand is reaching out to me, begging me to join him on a walk into the afterlife.

            But, is this truly what I want? To die so quickly, so suddenly without the chance to see the government fall and see the Mockingjay's victory? I won't hug Crane, my little brother with those bright green eyes. I'll never see the Finnick again either.

            I don't have time to decide for myself because suddenly, there's another attacker. They slam Brutus repeated on the head, causing him to release my throat so he  can fend them off. With the little strength I have remaining, I push off the ground and burst above the surface, gasping and coughing for fresh air. I paddle weakly, knowing that if I was attacked now there's no way I could defeat them.

            It isn't Finnick's blonde hair and green eyes that rise to the surface. Instead, it's Johanna's sopping red hair and darker eyes that welcome me. On her back, she has a large orange bag.

            "Hurry, swim! I scared him off!" Johanna cries. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brutus swimming off to one of the stocks to look for new targets. She shoves a knife into my hand and pushes me in the direction of the sandy shore. There's no time to get to the Cornucopia. The Careers from Districts 1 and 2 have probably taken it over already, and the weapons will be scarce.

            "What about Finn-"

            A wave hits me straight in the face, filling my mouth with the vile, salty liquid. I spit it out and swim as fast as I can in the opposite direction. There's no time to think about Finnick. Surely he's found Katniss by now, showed her Haymitch's golden bangle, and won her onto his side. He showed it to me in the morning, given to him by Haymitch himself to earn the Mockingjay's trust. My presence doesn't matter in the long run. I can meet up with them on shore after I ensure my survival of the bloodbath.

            Of course, getting to the shore isn't as easy as it seems. I come up to breath in a smooth stroke to see one of the District 9 tributes throw a knife at Johanna swimming behind me, narrowly missing her head. I ready my knife and swim up to the edge of her spoke, dodging another blade thrown from a steady hand. Strapped around her torso is a belt of knives, shiny and calling out my name. That should be my belt, and every urge now has me set on it.

            The girl makes to grab another dagger, but her move is too slow. I've already heaved myself up next to her and put my knife to her throat. Blood seeps from the shallow line I cut just below her chin, dripping its way into the crevices of my fingers. Now, all that's left to do is slice. She stares at me, wide-eyed and afraid, just like the children from District 11 looked at me while clutching to their mother. I am the monster; I'm the one who is feared.

            My hesitation ends up being my flaw. Johanna cries out just as a sharp pain shoots up my leg. I slit the District 9 girl's throat quickly afterwards and look down to see that she had enough time to shove a knife into my left thigh. The wound isn't too deep since she stuck it in at an angle, however, the throbbing makes me grit my teeth.

            Her blood drips down my palms, and after I grab the belt of knives, I watch her body splash into the water beside me. I don't have time to think about it; I don't have time to ponder on my action. The sticky feeling of my hands almost make me sick, but I put my attention onto my own wound and study the crooked hilt sticking out of my leg.

            I leave the knife in its place, knowing that if I take it out, I'll start to bleed out even more. Johanna jumps next to me, offering me her arm to help me run down the remaining distance of the spoke. There are no more tributes around us, so I focus on staying upright and not bringing Johanna down into the water with me if I fall.

            Finally, we make it to the shore, and I stumble through the sand until the trees conceal us. I don't dare look behind me in case we're being trailed or Finnick's dead body lay floating on the surface of the water. I'd find him soon enough, but for now, I have a stab wound to attend to.

            There's a sound behind us, and Johanna turns instantly to see Blight, her District 7 counter partner with his hands raised. He has a thick dark red beard and short-trimmed hair, slightly damp from his own trek through the water. Johanna sighs in relief, and no words are said in greeting as the man rushes to my side and lets me hook my arm over his shoulder. I don't recall seeing him at training, but over the years, I've seen his face from time to time accompanying Johanna.

            "Can you make it any farther?" Johanna asks softly, seeing the look of anguish on my face. It takes everything within me not to scream, but it would give away our location. I nod and allow them to take me farther into the terrain. If we stay closer to the shore, the more likely we will be seen.

            After a few more minutes, I decide I can't take it anymore and slump down against a tree, moaning at the terrible feeling that rushes through my body. Johanna looks only a bit concerned at the wound, and I shriek softly when she tugs the knife from its position. She probably knows that I can take it.

            "Hopefully there's something good in the bags," I say gruffly, watching the blood well up. On Blight's back, I see that he has his own unopened satchel.

            After a quick assessment, we have a decent amount of supplies: dried fruit, three rolls of bandages, one full plastic water bottle, one empty water bottle, and two other knives. In the other smaller one, there is one roll of bandages, some dried jerky, more dried fruit, and a few ropes. We decide to use half of the fresh water to clean my wound and sip a tiny bit each from the remaining half.

            Johanna mops up as much of the blood as possible before pouring the water slowly onto the wound. I flinch and then sigh as the cooling sensation eases the agony for a few moments. Then, she grabs one reel of bandages and rolls the white cloth tight around my thigh.

            "Thank you," I mutter, the blood already showing through the white material. Thank god, the knife missed my major arteries and muscles or else I'd surely be dead by now. "How many do you think are dead?"

            "Six or seven," Blight says, shoving the supplies back into his pack. I can see Johanna eyeing my thigh attentively, but I shift it out of her view. We have much more to worry about than my severed leg.

            "I'm going to climb a tree to check out the Cornucopia. Are you two okay down here?" Johanna says. I give her a sarcastic glare. "Okay, okay! No need to be so cynical!"

            She disappears through the trees in search of a sturdy trunk, leaving me to my own senses. I know that Blight isn't a talker, and he won't bother me unless I make the first move. I wonder where Finnick is. Dead or alive? With Katniss or venturing on his own? Thinking of me or worrying only about himself and the Mockingjay, as he should?

          And the District 9 girl who's throat I willingly sliced. I could have kept swimming and dodged her attacks until I made it to the tree line. But, I'd killed her for her belt of knives, which now look pitiful laying beside me, caked with her blood. She used three of them, leaving only five left. They weren't really worth the effort. It was an unfair trade: a belt of knives in exchange for a murder and a stab in the leg.

             At the sound of cracking of sticks, a dagger is already in my hand, my wrist cocked back and my eyes already squinted. The blade drips with my own blood. It's only Johanna, so I lower my weapon. I can't hesitate anymore. If there's danger, I strike, and if there's an attack, I defend.

            "They're still fighting, so we should be fine for now. We can stay here for the rest of the day to let you rest your leg," she says, spinning a smaller knife between her fingers.

            "We can keep moving. I'm fine, I swear," I tell her, showing her my leg, which doesn't prove my point. The blood has already spread through the bandages, and I cover the sight with one of my hands, chuckling to mask my pain and fear.

            Johanna snorts and lowers down to sit next to me. "I'm not an idiot. We can move first thing tomorrow. Tonight, you need to rest."

             I groan but don't object. She's not wrong. The longer I give my leg to heal, the faster I'll be back on my feet and moving as normal.

            "I'm going to look around here for fresh water"—I start to object—"but I won't go far," she finishes, smirking at me. "Now apply more pressure to your leg."

            I clamp my hand down on my thigh, maybe a bit too hard because I have to hold back a whimper. Johanna clicks her tongue at me and gives me a rather obscene gesture as she turns around to disappear into the jungle. I chuckle softly, but the humor disappears at once when I'm alone with Blight. He makes himself busy by picking some nuts off of a tree nearby. The pain is overpowering and it's all I can think about, no matter how hard I try to concentrate on any other thing.

I grab a rope from the bag and create a quick snare, hopefully good enough to get some small animal for us to eat. At this point, my traps are the only helpful thing I have to offer. The action distracts me for only minutes before the pain darkens my vision again.

The jungle is thick with dark green vines, and Crane's desperate eyes pop into my head. I wonder how my family feels, seeing this wound in my leg and the anguish in my eyes. I will fight for them. I will fight for Johanna.

I will fight for Finnick.

            In the end, I curl up on my side and shut my eyes. I don't mean to fall asleep.

-

            My eyes flutter open, and for a brief moment, I think I'm back in my room at the Capitol. But when I don't feel the soft sheets and the silky pillowcase, I bolt upright. Darkness encases me, but I can still see Johanna and Blight laying a few feet away. The man is snoozing softly on his back while Johanna leans against a tree trunk, her eyes glimmering off an unseen light source. I've slept much longer than I thought I would. My leg doesn't feel any better, and I know it's about time I switch my bandages. Even in the darkness, I can see that the white material is drenched and dripping. They should've been changed hours ago.

            I guess that explains my lightheadedness. I sit up, grasping for the rolls of cloth in the bag. Johanna shifts and holds one out to me.

            "Where do you think Finnick is?" I can't help but ask. Maybe she got a glimpse of him during the bloodbath.

            She shrugs. "I don't know, but you're boyfriend isn't dead. His picture wasn't in the sky."

            The malice laced between her words makes me go silent. I unravel my bloody bindings and hiss when the injury meets the air. I take the container of water, but instead of drinking my serving, I apply it to my leg. I'm undeniably dehydrated, but my leg begs for any sort of relief. I don't dare study the cut before I rap it up again.

            "Sorry," she mumbles, catching me by surprise. It's so rare to hear any sort of apology from Johanna. Her stubborn, sarcastic personality gets the best of her most of the time. "I just hate this place. If President Snow were here, I'd bash his face in."

            The girl really has the nerve to drag the President as if he couldn't just push a button and have her killed within seconds. I brace myself for impact, for a mutt to come rushing for us through the trees or some other unnatural attack to wipe us out, but nothing appears. I don't voice my opinion, but she knows better than anyone that I stand with her.

            "My leg hurts," I admit, trying to move into a more comfortable position to find that each movement makes me more uncomfortable. "I just want to tear it off."

            Johanna laughs but goes quiet when Blight turns over. We stare at him, making sure he didn't wake up to our voices. When we're sure he's still asleep, she continues, "Want some food?"

            I nod, and she passes me a handful of nuts. I've never seen them before, but if she's offering them to me, she must know that they're safe, unless I'm her test subject. They are more chewy and moist than I'd imagined them to be. After a few, I decide that I can't eat anymore and turn to get some dried fruit instead.

            "I shouldn't tell you this."

            "Then don't," I reply, giving her a skeptical look.

            "But he's not here, is he? You can't tell him."

            "Tell who?"

            Johanna scoffs and leans forward to pierce her lips. "Finnick, Brainless! Who else would I be talking about?"

            "I don't know," I snicker, tearing off a particularly tough section of fruit.

            Johanna glances around as if Finnick will suddenly appear out of thin air to scold her for her next words. "He told me to watch over you with my life. He told me...he told me that he loved you, and he'd do anything for me to be one of your protectors."

            "He told you that?" Finnick, that idiot, acting like I can't take care of myself and risking other people's lives as well to preserve mine. If he were here, I'd be the one scolding him.

            Johanna gives me a knowing smirk. "Yeah, I would look out for you anyway. I just wanted to tell you how stupid he is."

            "Yeah, he's so stupid." But, I'm stupid in love with him nonetheless. A sharp pain shoots up my leg, and I hunch over to suppress a groan. The wound is the worst I've ever had. Compared to my last game, where all I had were a few minor slices and some large bruises, this is so much more excruciating. "Go to sleep, Johanna, I've slept a lifetime."

            "But you-"

            "Sleep!"

            She huffs as she lowers down onto the lumpy ground. Her breathing turns steady within a matter of minutes, leaving me alone to survey the surrounding jungle.  I want to think about my family or Finnick, but with each beat of my heart, my mind is fixated on two things.

            Water, pain, water, pain...

            I'm tempted to lean over and drain every last drop from the bottle, but when I look and see Johanna sleeping, I remember all that she's done for me. Even Blight, who I've never had a connection with before, offered me his aid upon first contact. It would be betrayal. So I pick up the water and stuff it into the bag, hiding it from my longing eyes.

            I'm so focused on the water that I don't even notice when two figures approach me from the shadows, one thin and one noticeably bigger. And when I see them, I don't move to grab my knife or shake Johanna awake out of fear. Nuts and Volts, the District 3 duo, stare at me through the woods, and I nod my head.

            Beetee lowers his head back, and the two disappear into the trees again, faster than they arrived. I don't know what made me do it, but I know that if Johanna had seen them, their bodies would be cooling on the jungle floor by now. I want them to live. I want them to be lifted away from this arena with the rest of the rebels. I remember what he said during his interview on stage with Caesar Flickerman. He questioned the Capitol too.

            Maybe, I've killed one too many people today. But maybe, just maybe, if I willingly save two, I can forget about that treachery for the rest of the night.

word count: 2809 words
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