Epilogue: Six Years Later

I feel like a china tea set again. Ready to break at any minute.

I'm not wearing my mother's dress. Instead, I opt for a dark red shirt and brown pants. No more lace for me. My knife is hidden in an inside pocket of my black jacket.

Wyss is dead. He was killed a year after my Games, in a mining accident. Coincidence? I think not. I know it's my fault that he's dead. I refused to play their little love game, and they killed him for it. But now there's no one left for them to torture. I haven't let myself get close to anyone again.

I watch the Games every year. Alone, at the controls that will send a silver parachute down to my apprentice. I've never pressed a single button on that console. Ironically, all of my tributes have died. That's not chance either.

They call me changed. I am. I was supposed to revel in my glory. Fall in love, have children. I have defied them. They will destroy me for it, but I welcome the threat. I survived once. I'll do it again. If I choose to.

Now Kirrah, uncannily unchanged from my Games, pulls out the name of my new tribute. I blink. Clove something. She's a small girl, but the light in her eyes and her smile are cold as a mountain. She turns those eyes on me as she comes up the steps.

The boy is called. There's a lot of clapping and cheering. And then we're ushered into the mayor's house. She looks up at me, expecting advice. I say only a few words. "If you hit them in their heart, they're gone for good."

The balcony doors close. No more sunlight.

No more hope.

She dies. For the first time in history, two tributes win. The Capitol laps up their love story. I can see right through it. He loves her, she is reluctant.

I watch the tour. I'm there when they read the speech at Two. I sit next to the girl at the banquet. She shovels down food like it's her last day on the earth.

The next Games are called. The Quarter Quell. The tributes will be picked from the victors. I feel cheated, but in a way, I see that this is my escape. I can die with glory. I can save someone from a horrible fate.

The uniform of death is back again. An old woman is picked first. Myna. And then come the volunteers. Enobaria practically gets in a fight with her former mentor, a large dark haired woman. I watch the whole time.

Finally, Enobaria wins. A smile on her face, she makes her way through the crowd. I see the tributes of Two in her. The way she walks, her head held high. Her smile, her teeth glittering in the sun. The way she's so confident, as if nothing can bring her down. Seventy-four tributes have walked off to the Games this way. And only thirteen have ever come back.

I can't let her die. She was my mentor. I can't watch her be slaughtered by some other experienced fighter. I can die this way. It's my ticket out. Maybe I'll die quickly. I hope so.

I raise my voice into the wind blowing fiercely in my face.

"I volunteer!"

(Yes, I know, Enobaria did go to the Games in the real book, but I am taking a creative license and changing it a bit. This also provides some intro into the second part of Ayla's story, being a District Thirteen rebel, provided that you want me to write it. Si o no?)

17: {Tour}

One

They look at me with contempt. I killed Carama. Not that she was going to win, but people think desperate things sometimes. Especially when their loved ones are in danger.

Three

I didn't know any of the tributes. They both died on the first day. Here, I get through my speech as quick as I can. They seem to want to get it over with too.

Four

I know more than anyone, that if not for me, Valzen would probably be standing here instead. I read my bit quickly, not making eye contact with anyone in the crowd. Before I leave, I see her family. The little boy stares at me with the same gray eyes and a little chill goes down my back. Those eyes will haunt me forever. I walk away quickly. Back on the train, I finger her knife. I have to stop thinking of it as "her" knife. It's mine now.

Five

I don't know much about them. I remember seeing the boy in training. He was fumbling around with the bows and arrows, but I don't say anything about that.

Six

The food here is good. That's all I remember. I don't really want to think about the rest. The boy who was eaten by the birds was named Omay. I feel guilty for not knowing his name until now.

Seven

I killed the girl from this district. But it was not out of malice. It was pity. Well, partly anyway. They seem to understand. I tell them that she was an excellent archer, and that her arrows took out many of the mutt birds. Her name was Lell.

Eight

The girl from 8 died in the bird attack. She was the second to fall. I feel like I should say something profound, but I finish my speech with a dry "Thank you."

Nine

This district is the worst. Kirwan and Thella. They're everywhere. In the looks of the crowd, in the eyes of their families. I've prepared a bit at the end for each of them, but it doesn't seem to do them justice. Thella first. "Thella was....well, she was one step removed from an angel. She was wonderful, and kind, and sweet. I never heard her say anything bad about a single person. I wish....I wish that she had never had to face these Games. I wish that she could have grown old and had a wonderful life." It sounds horribly rehearsed. But those words are the truth. Now Kirwan. I clear my throat. "I have only one thing to say about Kirwan. He was....he was beautiful. Thank you." I have to turn away to keep all of Panem from seeing my tears.

Ten

The girl from this district tried to kill me. I mutilated her hand. And that is that. So, the people of District Ten are not fans of Ayla Cetteras.

Eleven

I watched these tributes get murdered before my own eyes. I tried to save them, but I could not. The girl saved my life, though. She told me to run. To run before she burst into flames. I say all this, and I can see the tears in the eyes and on the cheeks of the crowd. I tell them that she would have made a wonderful ally. What I don't tell them is that her burned face will be in my dreams forever.

Twelve

This one passes in a blur. People in Twelve are not hopeful for their tributes. Hope is long gone from this gray place.

Two

This is supposed to be my greatest pride. I have won. I am their tribute, their victor. I will have to mentor the new tributes next year, and after that, and that, and that, until one of my pupils survives to take my place. There is applause. Thunderous applause. But I've learned that most applause is not good. Looking out over my district, I know that there will be hard times ahead. There will be Wyss. There will be food and drink and songs and parties that last for three days. But there will also be nightmares. There will be seeing fresh new children slaughtered each year. There will be waking up to an empty bed beside me. Because I have made my decision. There will be no marriage for me. No children. I cannot run the risk of giving life to someone who could so easily be killed before they can go to work. Before they fall in love. And now, I have to hold the tears back, because Panem wants to see someone who is victorious on their television screens. Not a wounded, broken girl.

Thirteen

The image on the screen freezes. The face of the victor, her red hair tousled by the wind, her face covered in makeup, delivering a speech to her district like a martyr's death words.

Boots clunk on the floor as the man gets up from his chair and walks towards the screen. When he gets there, he stops, turns, and points to the image.

"You may not want someone from District Two, but I want her."

The woman nods. "It will be arranged."

16: {Victor}

I'm covered in blood. Mine and Valzen's and Kirwan's. Staining my legs and my arms and my hair and my face. I'm bathed in it.

Her body is below me. Her gray eyes are still open, but the light is gone from them. I keep glancing back to make sure that she is still dead. That she doesn't rise up with another smile and a flick of her hair.

It takes me a while to see the hovercraft over me. Its only when the light shines down that I look up into the depths of the machine. The ladder slides down. I comply without a thought, placing my hands on it. My right one is still clutching the knife. I don't let it go. I can't, and that's not because of the current.

When I am lifted up, people in white uniforms surround me. They are telling me something, something that I don't hear because my mind is speeding at a thousand miles an hour. Kirwan, Valzen, the girl from 10, District 11, Carama, the birds, Ebb, Thella.

"Ayla, we're going to need you to let go of the knife," a woman says. "Ayla? Ayla, can you hear me?"

I can. But I can't let this go. I need something to hold on to, or I'll go spinning into insanity. "I can't," I say. "I need it."

"Ayla, let go. Please don't make us use-"

"No! Can't you understand? I need it to keep myself alive!"

"Ayla, you're going to be fine." Kirwan's words. She says something else, but I'm not listening anymore. I have to get out of here. I have to get out. I start to scream hysterically. I don't know what comes out of my mouth, but pure noise would not be the answer. I scream at everyone. Valzen, my mother, my father. Ebb. The Capitol. District 2.

Then there's the prick of a needle and I slip into unconsciousness.

I don't let go of the knife.

Maybe everything would be better if I stayed this way. With soft blankets covering me and the morphling in my system. It would be so much easier to cope.

But they won't let me. Already I feel my euphoria draining away. I try to sleep. It's easy.

So easy.

Enobaria visits me in my room. I want someone near. I want to put my arms around her neck and sob.

But that is a weakness. And Enobaria does not allow weakness. So instead, I sit up and give her a wounded smile. "Hello," I say. My voice is scratchy and horrible and distant and I sound like, well, like I've just come out of the Games.

"You did good out there," she says. She lays something on my table. It's Valzen's knife. I don't know how she got it back.

She leaves me alone again.

Coyra dresses me in the outfit I will wear to face Panem. To see a recap of the Games.

It's beautiful. A dress made of soft red silk that cuts a dramatic neckline that is low but not too low. It stops a few inches before my knees. My body is waxed and shaved again. My makeup is drastic as well. My eyes are lined in black, and then in red. My lips are painted the same color, and my entire face is covered in a powder that makes my skin seem clear and smooth.

Because Panem does not want to see a tribute. They want to see a victor.

The lights are blinding. The applause is deafening. The audiance is on their feet, screaming their lungs out. But I feel hollow inside.

They don't know what it feels like. To be inches away from your death. To have someone that you love ripped away from you with the whistle of a knife. A knife that now rests under my pillow. These people. How can you do this to us?

Caesar greets me with a hug. I return it only because I have to. But if I had it my way, Valzen's knife would find it's way into his back.

We watch the replay. It focuses on me, mostly, but Valzen and Kirwan are included as well. I see Ebb's death. She killed him from behind. No chance. And then Kirwan's death. They don't show anything but me rushing to him, and then him telling me that I will be fine. Telling me to win. The Capitol has no room for love. They play Valzen's death in full. Every single bit of it. They end with me standing over her, soaked in blood, with her knife.

There is cheering. There is celebration. There are screams of my name.

Caesar asks me a few more questions, which I answer with the voice of someone who is composed and perfect. Even though that is far from true.

And then it's over.

I want to go home.

15: {Valzen}

The blood and tears and sadness hangs thick around me like a fog.

Kirwan is resting. He's just resting, and sooner or later he'll wake up. But I know that's not true. Because I'm covered in his blood and there's a gash in his chest over his heart. And a hovercraft has appeared over us. I will not move. I will stay with him.

But I promised him that I'd win. I promised that I'd kill Valzen. I look down at him. He could be asleep. He could wake up any minute. But I have to leave him. But not without him keeping a piece of me. I pull my stone heart out of my pocket and press it into his hand, curling his fingers around it. "Don't lose it," I say softly. "Don't lose my heart."

I lay him gently on the ground. The hovercraft lifts him up, and I watch him go. I don't feel anything anymore. Nothing but rage and fury. I pick up Valzen's knife. 3/4 of a foot long. The blade is flat on one side and curved in a vicious pattern on the other. The handle is wrapped with black leather.

My only weapon. Even if I still had my boomerang, this is the only weapon that will end her life. The only thing that I will let kill her.

I run after Valzen, through the forest. Faster than the wind. Like a bullet. I know she's waiting for me. Waiting with a cold smile and another knife.

So when I emerge into another clearing, I'm not surprised to find her there. I wait for her to speak first. We stare at each other for a while before she talks.

"So this is it," she says. "This won't be too hard."

"You'd be surprised." I say through clenched teeth. I'm squeezing the knife in my hand so hard that the leather on the handle starts to dig into my skin. Valzen laughs. "Look at you. Bruised and bleeding. Heartbroken because I killed your little boyfriend. That's why I don't let myself care. Caring gets you hurt. And I'm not one to invite pain."

She's right. I'm sore and cut and wish I could die, but I cannot. I have to live, to keep my promise to Kirwan. I watch her, and she watches me. Her long black hair is pulled into a high ponytail. I don't want to know what she's using to keep it up. She looks to be in perfect condition, no cuts or scrapes at all.

I run at her. She smiles, as if she's been expecting it. She brings her knife up at the last second and blocks my slash. She feints at me, then goes for my left arm and cuts a bright streak across it. The pain burbles up, but I take advantage of her swing and counter with a swipe across her cheek. She spins around me, but I'm there, ready to kill.

"Not so bad," she says, raising one eyebrow. Then she strikes out again. This time I see it coming and swing my knife up to counter her. She brings her other arm forward to punch me, but I shield myself just in time.

She tries it again, and again. We are locked in a combination of sparring with knives and arms. She kicks me in the shins, and I go down. She bends over me, breathing hard and laughing. I aim my knife at her ankle and dig it in deep. She falls away, howling, and I pull it out and get up after her.

We battle with our knives and our bodies, both of us suffering blows from legs and arms and cuts from blades. Finally, she knocks me away and runs for it. I chase after her, through the trees and the snow, now stained with our blood.

She is pulling away. Across the clearing she turns back to smile at me. "Do you think you could catch me? Do you think you could kill me? You are nothing, Ayla Cetteras. Nothing."

"Liar," I whisper, and pull my arm back. She laughs, a cold laugh that chills me. "Go ahead. Try to hit me. I bet you can't make it across this clearing. And I've never lost a bet."

"Well, now's the time to start," I yell, and send the knife flying.

It strikes her in the heart.

Her gray eyes go wide.

If you hit them in the heart, they're gone for good.

She drops to the ground.

A cannon booms.

I walk over to her, almost in a dream, and pull the knife out of her chest.

I stand over her as Claudius Templesmith's voice fills the stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the victor of the Sixty-eighth Hunger Games, Ayla Cetteras!"

14: {Promise Me}

The cannon booms. I pick up my head.

"Was that-?" I ask.

"Yeah, it was," Kirwan says.

"Which means-"

"I know," he cuts me off. He hasn't been looking so well. Ever since yesterday, when Carama and the boy from 4 died, he's been quieter and distant. He does a lot of hunting. I come with him, but it isn't the same when we're out in the forest trying hard not to make a sound.

And now one of the Careers is dead. And there's only us three left. Our allegiance should have dissolved a long time ago. In fact, it shouldn't have even begun. I look up at him. He's skinning a squirrel with vigor. I watch his hands move along the length of the animal's body. He should have done that to me a long time ago. Killed me and taken my supplies. Why not?

I've been battered and bruised. My wounds from the birds are aching again, my burn from the mutt's blood has not gotten better, and my head still spins sometimes as a result of the attack by the girl from 10. My hands are bandaged and bloody. I have only one weapon. I am a trainwreck. Why would he keep me, especially since there are only three of us left?

I ask him. "Kirwan, why didn't you kill me?" He looks up at me but doesn't say anything. "You should have let me die when I crawled up from the cliff. And taken my supplies. Why not? I should be home in a pine box by now."

He puts the squirrel down and wipes his hands on his clothes. He comes over and sits next to me. I'm drawing a map of the arena on the rock with dirt and my finger. I've got the Cornucopia down, and the sites of where I've stayed as close as I can measure. He leans his head on my shoulder. A little shiver runs down my spine, but I don't say anything.

There's a long silence before he speaks. "I didn't kill you because I've seen you fight. I watched you when the training was going on. I watched you at the Cornucopia. You didn't become a Career. You chose to play on your own terms instead. That's why."

"Okay," I say, even though I know there's more, and leave it at that.

In the afternoon, I announce the idea that's been buzzing in my head all day. "We need to kill her."

"Who?" he asks.

"Valzen. We need to kill her. After that, there's only us left."

"Ayla, we don't even know if it's Valzen who is still out there or not. It could be Ebb. There's a 50/50 chance that it's him."

"No," I say, looking out over the forest. "The odds are in her favor. They always have been." I think of Valzen, of her gray eyes: cold and unfeeling. I get up and stretch out my arms and legs. "What are you doing?" Kirwan asks.

"I'm going after her," I say. "You can come with me if you want or not." I pull out my boomerang: my only weapon that remains besides my bare fists and teeth. He gets up. "Wait for me, Ayla." He grabs his spear and runs to catch up to me, because I'm already running down the slope of the mountain. We don't even stop to put out the fire, because we both know that we aren't coming back.

At the bottom of the mountain, he puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "What?" I whisper. "Did you see her?" He doesn't respond through words. Instead, he pulls me to him and kisses me full on the lips. After a while, we pull away. I stare at him, aware that the cameras are probably focused on us. "That's why I didn't kill you."

We move through the woods silently, towards the sound of the cannon. My heart and head are still pounding with Kirwan's kiss. We reach a spot that I recognize. It's the clearing with the ferns that I rested in after being attacked by the lion-snake.

We sit down by the banks of the little brook. He runs his hands through the water, now completely clear again. He and I don't say anything. We both know the truth. I will have to kill him, or him me if our plan succeeds. The Gamemakers don't care for love.

It's quiet, and for a minute, I can pretend that we're sitting in the woods, free of cameras and a bloodthirsty tribute and the thousands of viewers in the Capitol and the Districts. Free of the Capitol.

I drink from the river, putting my head down into the river. I wash the mud from my bright hair. I don't need to be camouflaged anymore. Finally he speaks. "Do you remember your outfit on the opening night?"

"How can I forget?" I laugh,.

"They painted you white," he says thoughtfully. "You were beautiful."

And then the knife flicks out of the shadows and plunges deep into his chest.

I'm not sure if it's me who is screaming, or him. All I know is that I whirl around to catch a glimpse of a cold smile and gray eyes before Valzen steps back into the woods. I whip my boomerang at her, but my aim is unsteady and it goes careening into the woods. I know it won't return to me.

I turn back to Kirwan. He lies on his back, his left hand floating in the brook, still playing with the water. I leap over to him and take him in my arms. The knife thrown by Valzen sticks out of his left side, over his heart. The words of the knife-throwing trainer come back to me. If you hit them in the heart, they're gone for good.

I find my voice through my tears. I'm crying, crying like a child and calling his name. "Kirwan. Kirwan. Don't die. Please, I need you. I need you."

His copper eyes find mine. "No, Ayla," he says, blood coming from his mouth. "You're gonna be fine. You can survive without me. It's amazing how much a person can survive without." He starts to shiver in my arms. I pull the knife out and lay it on the side.

Blood. There's so much. A red color that stands out against his dark clothes. I can't see much through my tears. "Kirwan. Please," I whisper. I press my forehead to his. "Don't leave me." Blood is staining my clothes now. His blood. There's so much of it.

"I have to, Ayla," he says softly. I can barely hear him anymore.

"No," I say, and kiss him, as if that can bring him back to me. My ally, my friend, my love. The love that was cut short by the knife of one without.

"Ayla. Promise me. Promise me you'll win."

"I-I promise. I love you."

"I love you too." His eyes are starting to glaze over. "Ayla."

"Yes?"

"You were so pretty. So beautiful. When they painted you white."

"I know."

"Ayla?"

"What?"

Silence. "Kirwan? What?"

"You're going to be fine."

Then he's gone.

13: {Allegiance}

I seem to be waking up to pain a lot these days. Like an old friend, it's back to greet me. But with it is warmth and something soft on me. Opening my eyes is easy, surprisingly. I take in as much as I can. A little fire, a blue sky and tan stone. That's all I can manage.

"Ayla," someone says. I think for a minute that maybe it's my bother, but then it clicks and I realize where I am. "Ayla," the person says again. "Ayla, are you awake?" His face comes into my view. It's Kirwan. He didn't kill me after all. But that's no reason to trust him. I reach for my sword before I remember that it went over the cliff.

"Hey," he says, sensing my distress. "I saved you. No need for weapons. Anyway, if you want it, I've got your boomerang right here." He holds it up. I sit up, ignoring my little friend extreme pain, and reach for it. He gives it to me and I take it quickly, stroking it, making sure there's no damage done. "I found it in the water, lodged under a rock, and I assumed it was yours. I guess I was right."

I realize that this is time for a thank you. "Thanks," I croak, then cough. "Oh, do you want some water?" Kirwan asks. I clear my throat. "Sure. But you know what would be great? Tea." Right on cue, a silver parachute drops in front of my face. I clumsily open it to find...tea. Six packets of it. "Great," I say. I look back up. "Some dynamite would be great, too, if you can spare it!" As is expected, no silver parachute appears. Kirwan laughs. "Worth a shot," he says. "But then, they wouldn't give us anything that could be used against them."

"What do you mean?" I ask, interested. He takes a tea packet and starts to heat up water over the small fire. "Nothing," he says. "Just something I was thinking about."

"Okay." I don't pry. Just sit up and rub down my muscles. Without speaking, we've come to an agreement. We are allies, at least for a little. while. After the tea is done, I ask what I've missed. "Not much," he says. "You were out for a day, though. That girl that you pushed off the cliff died, obviously, so District 10's out. The guy from District 1 and 8 are dead too. I think they killed each other."

"Let's hope the rest do that too," I said. "That's a couple less to worry about."

In the afternoon, I'm ready to get out of this place. At the beginning of the Games, Kirwan found this shelter. It's a shallow cave, actually it's more like a ledge, that he surrounded with boulders to keep out other tributes. The wind on the mountain takes the smoke from his fire and disposes of it quickly, so he--or, we, don't need to worry about being discovered from the smoke.

Kirwan's gone hunting. He says he'll be back soon, so I set out to take stock of our supplies. I have my boomerang, and he has a few spears and a few lengths of rope. He's done hunting before I joined up with him, so his catch adds to my crackers and cheese to make a good amount of food. I have my medicine kit, he has an extra blanket that he lends me. When it gets dark outside, I wrap myself up in a blanket and wait for him to come back.

A few hours later, he's nowhere to be found and I feel stupid just sitting around. I get up, douse the fire, take my boomerang, and head down the mountain by the use of a path that goes behind the waterfall.

The woods are dark and silent. I don't dare to call out his name: I don't know if anyone's near me. Tensions are rising among the Careers and they're bound to shoot anything that moves without bothering to see who it is.

I hear voices, and I flatten against a tree. It's not Kirwan. It sounds like a girl instead. The District 1 female. I can remember Kirwan calling her Carama. He said that at first, the Careers wanted him to join up with them after they had seen his skills with the spear. The boy with her isn't Kirwan or Ebb, so it must be the one from 4.

They're obviously looking for someone. I hear Carama speak first. "She has to be around here somewhere. Ebb said he heard her run this way." They're talking about me. I keep absolutely still and breathe quietly. Next, the boy says something. "Yeah, well, Ebb's judgement isn't something to trust right now, is it?"

"What do you mean?" Carama asks.

"I mean that ever since Valzen hit him in the head because he tried to stop Scall and Illan from fighting, he's been a little off." He laughs a little bit, but she doesn't say anything. Valzen must be the cold-eyed girl from 4. Finally, she answers him. "Maybe your judgement isn't something to trust, either."

"Why not? I'm just as sane as--" But I don't get to hear how sane he is, because there's the thwing of a bowstring, and then a cannon. There goes the boy from District 4. Carama laughs now, a half-crazed sound. The sound echoes through the forest, and suddenly I can't take it anymore. I jump out from behind the tree. Carama is standing over the body, her head tilted back, her long brown hair flowing in the light breeze.

I throw my boomerang. It slices through her stomach, and she chokes, then goes down. The boomerang zooms back to my hand, and the cannon tolls again. "You died laughing," I whisper to her. "You died beautiful. You don't deserve it."

I walk away as the hovercars appear to take the tributes away. I count on my fingers. Two more tributes gone. That means twenty dead. Four left: me, Kirwan, Ebb, and Valzen.

Suddenly, I'm tackled from behind. I start to make a sound, but a hand covers my mouth. "It's me," Kirwan whispers in my ear. I tell him to get off me, but it comes out as a muffled sound. "I ran into the Careers," he continues. "They never saw who I was, but they're coming after me. I think I lost them, though." He gets up and dusts himself off. He offers me his hand, and I take it and heave myself up. "What happened here?" he asks, looking back at the hovercars circling. "I mean, how did they die?"

"That was the boy from 4 and the girl from 1." I explain. "They were talking about how Ebb had been it in the head by Valzen, and then Carama killed him. And then she stood there laughing. And as she was, I took my boomerang and killed her."

"Good thinking," he says. "Get them while they're distracted. Now there's only two of them left. Good job, Ayla." In spite of myself, I swell with his praise. I even blush a little, and I pray that he can't see me in this darkness. "We'd better get out of here," I say. "Valzen and Ebb will be coming to see who died." We head off, back to the cliff, with the silent whirring of hovercars behind us.

12: {Cliff}

The pain is the first thing I feel. My wounds from the birds are throbbing, spreading fire through my veins. The birds' beaks must have poison in them. My first attempt to move rekindles the fire, and my body is ablaze with pain. Numbly, I roll over and reach for my medicine pack. I open it up, barely seeing a thing, and find a bottle of the liquid.

I hope this works. I unscrew the cap on the bottle and pour the mixture down my throat. Instead of relief, I add more fuel to the fire. For a minute, maybe two, I lie there, unable to utter the screams that reverberate inside my skull for fear of being heard.

After a while, the fire dies down to leave me feeling better than when I woke up. I hold the bottle up to my eyes. I guess that worked. I repack the bottle, along with my trainwreck of a hammock, take a few more sips of water and bites of the cheese and crackers, and work my way slowly down the tree. My joints ache, and they are stiff, just like yesterday. I check my supplies. I need more water, and I don't trust the snow that lies so temptingly around me.

I remember the brook I splashed through in my haste to escape the lion-snake mutt and decide to head that way. I take my bearing from the sun and my tracks, and head off in that direction.

When I reach the brook. I'm disappointed. It's been stained and dirtied with some sort of oil. I certainly can't drink that, it looks too much like the lion-snake's blood. Maybe the water will be clearer farther up. I heave my pack on my back and continue on.

I pass the site of the deaths of the District 11 tributes. There is nothing here, not even blood on the snow, to suggest that human beings perished in this spot. When these Games are over, this arena will be turned into a vacation spot for Capitol families. They'll be able to visit the sites of all the deaths, even reenact some of them. That's their idea of a great vacation.

I look up at the sky. There are cameras all around the arena, and even though they're probably elsewhere now, I feel like screaming to them. Is this how you treat us? Like animals to be slaughtered? This is your idea of entertainment? But of course I don't. Because those words would get me killed faster than you can shout "traitor!"

The farther up I go, the less trees and cover there is for me. I've followed the brook up as it becomes a wide river, and then a pool with a large waterfall reaching up into the sky. I look over into the sky. Dead fish float around. This pool is clearly contaminated, but the top of the waterfall looks fine. Time for my area of expertise.

I approach the wall next to the waterfall and find a good foothold. I heave myself up, one foot and hand at a time, until I finally reach the top. There is a good space, with another slope a little ways in front of me, a cliff to my left, beyond the medium sized river that makes the waterfall, and a mess of boulders and shrubs to my right.

I drag myself over to the water and run my hands in it. They are scratched and bruised from my climb, and the water feels cooling on them. I sigh, then bury my whole face in it, drinking in the water. I resurface for air and dry my face on my clothes.

Just as I'm wiping my hands on my pants, I hear it. The crack and rolling of stones. I whirl around, my sword drawn, to glare into the eyes of the girl from 10. She isn't a big girl, but her size is accentuated by the huge sword that she's holding. My weapon looks like a dagger next to it. Her hair is matted and burned, and her face is dirty with mud. She has a crazy smile on her face, and I can see why. Because she's about to send me to my death.

I attack first, running at her. Surprised, she counters, pushing me back into the water. I stumble and fall over a stone, hitting my head with a crack on a rock. Dizzy and spluttering, I get up. I'm starting to see double. "This'll be easy enough," she grins. "I thought you District Two tributes were supposed to be good fighters." She slashes at me, but with a quick jump, I sidestep her and go on the offensive, clanging blades with her.

She pushes me back farther into the water, until I'm standing on the other bank and she's still coming towards me. I look back, just for a second. The cliff is dangerously close to my feet. I run at her, and manage to get a good slash across her chest before she flicks my sword out of my hand. It skitters backwards and over the cliff. Gone for good.

"Pull-ease," she says. "That all you got?" She advances again, and I feel my mind going. I can't see clearly now, everything's a blur except her face and the shiny weapon in her grasp. I lunge myself at her, my fist somehow making contact with her ear. She howls and shoves me back. I tumble, putting my foot down for contact with the ground, but instead I feel air. I fall down the cliff a few feet before catching hold of a handhold with a wrench of my shoulder. Pain screams at me again, and blackness starts to seep back into my vision.

She's laughing now. Maybe that's the last thing I'll hear. She raises her sword, ready to cut off my hands and send me hurtling down, but instead it's her who goes down. She falls past me, screaming, and somehow finds a spot a foot or so below me. I look down, but the height is dizzying and I can't see straight.

Back up. Someone is standing over me again. It's not the girl. I recognize the copper-gold eyes. Kirwan. Has he come to kill us both? I don't have time to think on it, because there's a tugging on my right ankle. The girl from 10 is hanging on for dear life, her feet swinging away from the cliff. She's screaming something, but all I can think about is if I don't get her off me, we'll both go down. It's either me or her.

I take my hand away from the cliff and go for my boomerang. But it's gone. Has it fallen down the cliff or did it fall out in the river. I don't have time. My other hand is slipping. I grab a rock from the edge of the cliff. Reaching down, I bash it as hard as I can into the tribute's hand. She screams again, louder, but I pound the rock over and over into her until she's broken and bleeding.

She looks up at me eventually with pleading eyes. I gaze back. "I am a fighter," I say, and send the rock flying right on her head. She falls away, almost in slow motion, and everything goes fuzzy for me. All I can do is drag myself up. Up, up, up until I lie on the ground and someone picks me up by the shoulders. The pain connects, and I scream, but that takes the rest of my energy.

I slump into blackness, hoping that somehow, Kirwan will keep me alive.