Jeopardy: The Fourth Quarter Quell

Undercover - Aspen

Aspen

There is absolutely no danger in the bunch from Thirteen. I can tell just by looking at the girl that she’s harmless. Even if she was likely to be dangerous, she’s in such a state looking after her injured and constantly complaining district partner than she’s incapable of it.

Right now she’s crouched over him protectively, all her attention focused on trying to make him comfortable. This seems pretty useless to me, since all he ever does is moan. Every time he opens his mouth I feel like either socking him one or saying something cutting, but since I’m meant to be distraught and pathetic, I can’t. But as soon as Rhea is looking the other way, he’s getting a kick. If he’s lucky.

There’s barely enough space under the ledge for all of us, and Rhea's partner - who looks like she has a beak, her nose is that big - gives me a vaguely apologetic smile that is totally not genuine as she shifts and elbows me in the ribs. My mouth automatically curls into a sneer. No, that's bad. I catch it as quickly as I can and try to form it into a copy of her smile. Even to me it doesn't feel convincing, but she falls for it. Sucker. The little crammed space stinks of sweat and blood.

I bet the Careers have plenty of space.

How long have I been here? The light is dropping again, though this little valley has been in shadow almost since I woke up. The others keep shivering, especially Rhea because in her misguided attempts to help Liam she's torn up her clothing until it's little more than a vest and shorts. Weaklings; I'm still nicely warm. I bet they're so used to being kept safe in Thirteen that they can't cope with cold, or hunger. The beaked girl keeps looking at her arm and muttering things like "One hour, History of Panem studies" and "Forty five minutes, recreation" and, once, "Fifteen minutes, jog." It sounds like a sort of timetable. How nice. But I don't need to know it, and if she tells me what she would be doing back home one more time, I might punch her whether it gives my cover away or not. Or even better, chop her arm off so she can't look at it anymore. My axe leans against the rocky wall, tempting me.

Liam is blissfully unconscious but irritatingly not dying. And I can't get anywhere near him with Rhea  around. So it'd have to be her first...

It's late afternoon, early evening, probably. So a day and a few hours. Which is about a day and a few hours more than Oliver made it. I probably should feel sad that my brother is dead. But even though I'm convincing this lot - not that it'd take much, though - the tears are all fake. I'm sure I'll be sorry later but at least I'd be living that long.

"I thought he'd recover quicker than this," Rhea murmurs. She doesn't speak to anybody in particular, unless it's asking Liam whether he's okay, and I turn away so that I can smirk without being seen, pushing some hair in front of my face. Even though it's annoying, it seems to help the distraught look no end.

Movement.

Not just movement. Somebody is falling down the valley.

Something pulses through my body, my hands reaching for a weapon, any weapon, and every muscle in my body tensing, ready for action. I am not going to die; they'll regret coming near me.

"Aspen?"

What?

Rhea is shielding Liam again, the two companions gawping at me. I'm stood up, axe in hand, hair off my face. Rhea's neat, pretty face is formed into a perfect expression of puzzled concern; she's worried that I'm losing it. Of course. They can't see from where they are.

The scenery spins as I turn back to the shape. Has it seen me? No. It's crumpled at the bottom of the valley, most definitely female. She springs to her feet, blonde hair, red hat but it can't be the girl from Nine because she's dead.