The Hunger Games (A Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

Buna's P.O.V.

In the past two days, Celia and I have been hiding from other tributes, staying away from the center of the arena, listening for death cannons, going hunting and basically doing anything we could to not die. You know, basic Hunger Games stuff. Right now, I am following Celia around as she sets up traps around our camp, for both animals, and the other tributes, but more specifically, Jasper and Sasha. "I saw them walking around here two nights ago, their camp is nearby, and we have to trap them before they realize we're here." Celia rambled, and I listened to every other word, staring up at the beautiful tree canopy above us. "Yeah, yeah." I said. Celia takes the every-shrinking bundle of rope off of her pants' belt loop, and started to set up a more complicated trap then the other ones she had made today. "This one takes a bit more rope then the others, but it is very efficient." I nod, still not really listening. I just let Celia do her thing, unless it threatens her life, then I stop her before she kills herself.

"And...Done!" Celia says after about four minutes. I look down at her creation, and it's pretty impressive. "Cool." I say. Celia turns back towards me, smiles widely, and starts to wrap the small bundle of rope back on her belt loop. "You know, you don't have to carry that anymore." I say to Celia. She looks at me, a bit surprised. "Why?" She asks. "Well," I start to answer, getting a bit annoyed. "The bundle is so small now, that it won't really be useful for anything, so we can just put it in the backpack." Celia crosses her arms, the rope dangling in her right hand. "But what if we need it? You never know what might happen." "I know what will happen. Your rope will get caught on something and we'll get stuck. You'll be a target." "I'll be fine Buna, don't you trust me? I'm not a baby. I can do things on my own!" Celia starts to yell. I yell back at her. "Yeah! But whenever I let you 'do things on your own' you almost kill yourself! So I have to come in and save you, because you can't be trusted!" "I can't believe you! I'm keeping the rope on, and I'll prove you wrong!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

We stare at each other, red faced, pissed, and glaring. Then, Celia finishes wrapping the rope around the loop and storms off down the path to our camp. I start to follow her, absolutely steaming, when I hear a noise. Celia must have heard it too, because she stops and turns towards me. We listen further. The noise gets slowly louder, and louder until I make out what the noise is. It sounds like loud, heavy footsteps, running. Running right towards us! I look behind me, and see, 100 feet behind us, are three giant, gray and incredibly muscular dogs running at full force towards us. Mutts!

In the Capitol's history of making fake, out of scale, or crazy things, one of the things they made were mutts. Mutts are robotic dogs that are programmed to act just like carnivorous wolves, except they are about three times bigger than a normal wolf, and they are very muscular, fast and they hunger for human blood. So...not good to have three of them running towards us, and they look mad. I turn back towards Celia, quickly, seeing the look of recognition and fear spread across Celia's face. "RUN!" I scream.

We take off down the trail, tightly turning around trees, trying to lose the robotic mutts. Then, we make it to our camp. By this time, I have run past Celia, and I instruct her to climb up the tree as fast as she can. "You go first! I'll follow." I heave. "NO! You go first! We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me!" I start to argue, but I realize the mutts are catching up. I nod my head, only half-agreeing in my head, and I climb as fast as I can up the tree. I make it to the branch that I sleep on, high enough so that the mutts can't reach me. I look down, panicked, watching Celia try to climb as fast as she can up the tree. She's about halfway up to her branch, which is the same height as mine, when the mutts have caught up with us. They bark and snarl, drool dripping from their mouths, fangs glistening creepily in the afternoon sun. One of them gets an idea, and jumps up its front paws up the side of the tree. Celia flinches, wrapping her legs higher up the tree to make sure that A. she doesn't fall and B. the mutts can't drag her down by her legs. But, there is one thing that is still vulnerable, one thing that could make it so the mutts could kill her. I gulp, terrified. "CELIA! THE ROPE!" I scream. Celia looks at me, confused for a second, then realizes in horror what I mean. The mutt, whose paws are up the tree, sees the rope, and before anyone can do anything about it, it clamps down on the rope, and with one big yank, pulls Celia right off the side of the tree. "NO!" I screech, as Celia starts to get dragged away by the mutts, very quickly. Celia kicks and throws punches in the direction of the mutts, but she misses miserably.