Nothing Personal

Jabberjays - 9

Crete had blood on his spear, and no matter how many times he dipped it in the stream, it wouldn't come off. He crouched down and stuck his head under the water; some of it had caught in his hair and even if it hadn't, it would still have needed a good wash. It hadn't been washed since interview night, which had been, well, he wasn't sure. Two nights? Three? He hadn't made an effort to keep count. Either way, his hair was a mess and it was making him uncomfortable.

Or maybe that was the fact that he'd just killed his second person. It hadn't been like Lizz, not at all. Lizz, silent until the end, hadn't cried. Or begged. And then he'd been surrounded by the Careers; most of them were dead now too. She hadn't shouted for her mother, writhed around in her own blood. He'd meant to make it painless but the kid just wouldn't stay still. And he'd kept his slightly red eyes on him until the end, when Crete thought they were red with blood and he could see himself reflected in them, as the kid saw him. Tall and strong and grim, and holding a spear into his guts. The smell had been awful, and pieces of half-digested food had spilt onto the floor.

He opened his mouth to be sick and remembered that his head was underwater. Spluttering, with that dizzy feeling in his nose, he surfaced and fell backwards onto the bank, staring up at the sky. His stomach grumbled but he didn't feel like eating.

The sun was starting to poke through the clouds.

Oak sat on the bed with his arms huddled around his knees, looking at the retreating clouds. Grace still hadn't said a word to him. When the cannon had gone off he'd asked who she thought it was and she'd just shrugged. Didn't care. It wasn't nonchalant, it was more like; I don't care, it's still someone dead, one more family to mourn.

He couldn't stay with her. Skyler had a point; he couldn't watch her die. But he wanted to win. So he had to move on. Back to his tree near the Cornucopia, probably, where nobody but Skyler would expect him to be. It felt like they had been here years, or at least weeks. It was the huge stretches of time where there was nothing to do except wait for someone to come and try and kill you, not daring to go outside. That was never on the screen, there was always something going on; analysis, repeats, ad breaks for products he wouldn't be able to buy if he saved up for his whole life. The districts saw what the Capitol saw, only they saw it in a different light. Well, perhaps not the Career districts.

Grace was curled up in a ball in a heap of clothes, her hands over her pixie-like hair. It hit him that she might blame him somehow for Meridan's gruesome death. Because it had been a horrible way to go. At least he hadn't been murdered, but that was a small comfort.

"Grace?" he muttered.

She'd gone to sleep. Maybe that was better. He had to admit that hiding had worked well for her, but what about when the Gamemakers got bored? She was a sitting duck. Anyway, when they got bored he'd probably be the first target. So it was best for him to vanish anyway.

He grabbed an apple and a sharp knife from the kitchen and left through the back door, aiming for the tall trees that looked down on the rest of the arena.

Klaus had no idea about the rest of the arena beyond the little playground, but he didn't want to stay there with Sebastian sliding around, especially not on his own. Keeping his sword close, he prowled around by the hills, but there was nobody there and now he was getting twitchy. He should have been proud that he was the last Career standing - he was! - but now he was on his own, having killed two of his allies, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. And he was starting to feel bad about Amber. He knew he had done the right thing; Rian kept telling him that, but there was a huge difference between stabbing dummies and stabbing people, and it's different to how it looks on the screen.