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.
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