The Perfect Truth: A Finnick Odair Novel

Chapter 5

A/N: ahahaha not another filler chapter, but i promise next chapter we get more aderyn and finn 🙃

Warnings: swearing (i think), death, cpr (lol why is that a warning)

Word count: 1232

I see it just before Peeta hits it. The tell tale shimmer of a force field. I throw out a hand, a cry on my lips, but it's too late. Peeta Mellark, the baker's son, who risked getting beaten by his mother just to give Kat loaves of bread, flies backwards, and goes still. I don't even have to check. He's not moving, and I don't think he'll ever move again. Just to show the audience I care, show Kat I care, I touch the inside of his wrist, seeking his pulse. Nothing. Am I that hopeless that the boy who I told myself would get out of this Arena alive already has a heart which is no longer beating?

Unexpectedly, Finnick steps over to his prone body, setting Mags down. He pinches Peeta's nose closed and puts his mouth against his fellow tribute's, breathing air into his lungs, until I can actually see Peeta's chest rising and falling. Then he pumps the spot over Peeta's chest with the heels of his hands, rhythmically enough that I know he must have done this many times before. I mutely watch the muscles in his back expanding and contracting through the jumpsuit's sheer material, and just as I start to lose hope, Peeta gives a small cough and opens his eyes.

'There's a force field ahead,' he groans. I give a choked laugh and grin shakily over at Finnick, who's still out of breath from the effort from bringing Peeta back from the dead. Mags hands him a piece of moss, and he wipes his forehead and glances over at me from where he kneels by Peeta.

'A kiss of thanks, maybe?'

I roll my eyes. 'Shut up, Odair.' But I go over to him and lightly kiss the top of his head; not exactly what he asked for, but close enough. He sighs a little, a hand touching my waist before he cocks his head.

'You knew the force field was there, didn't you?'

'Uh, yeah,' I say. 'It's because - ' I realise I have a valuable piece of information, and if the Gamemakers know that I know it, they might find a way to change the force field. Quickly, I make up a lie off the top of my head. 'I can hear it. It's like the electric fence back home, except it's way quieter.'

Finn listens, brow furrowed, then shakes his head. 'I can't hear anything.'

I shrug, hiding my lie by teasing. 'I guess your observation skills have suffered since you won.'

Lightly, he smacks my arm playfully. 'Just shut your mouth before I have to silence you with mine and take the lead.'

Ignoring him, I grab a bunch of nuts from a tree nearby, just in case, and throw one against the force field. It rebounds immediately, landing on the ground with a cracked, burnt shell and a puff of smoke.

'Alright, let's go - ' I see Peeta, who's just gotten to his feet, and frown. 'You need to rest, don't you?'

'That's not really an option, is it?' He says. 'We don't have any water yet and who knows what's prowling around in the trees?'

So we make our way along, me in the lead, throwing nuts ahead of us just in case I don't spot the wavy square of air in time. After about an hour, I become aware of a gummy sort of smacking sound and glance around to see Mags eating the same type of nuts as in my bunch.

'Mags!' I chastise. 'Those could be poisonous!'

She mumbles something unintelligible and licks her lips with relish. I glance over at Finnick for some help or a translation, but he just shrugs and laughs, running a hand through his still semi damp hair.

'I guess we'll just have to find out.'

We keep moving, and I wonder about Finnick. He's been quite subdued, maybe because all twelve Districts will be watching him, and he doesn't think they'll enjoy him hitting on me, or because Mags is here and she won't approve. And why did he save Peeta? Surely it would advantage him for Peeta to be dead, since it'll be one less mouth to feed, one less person to protect? My mouth is parched, and I run my dry tongue along the roof of my mouth.

'I need another look above,' I tell everyone, then choose a tall tree which will be a good vantage point.

As I cling onto a skinny branch, the cool but balmy breeze on my face, I realise why we'll never be able to go further out. The Arena is a perfect circle, the Cornucopia the centre point. The sky is a strange, ominously uniform pink. Just to make sure, I shoot an arrow up, and see the puff of smoke, a flash of real blue sky, and then the arrow falls back down, blackened and sooty, and disappears below the tree line. So the force field is a dome. And we're trapped inside it.

I climb back down and relay my knowledge.

'Did you see any water?' Finnick asks.

'Still only the salt water around the Cornucopia,' I reply.

'But there has to be another source,' says Peeta, frowning. 'Or we'll all be dead in a matter of days.'

'The foliage is pretty thick,' I say. 'There could be ponds or springs?'

We all know what this means. We have to head back down towards the Cornucopia, with Mags hardly able to run, let alone walk, and Peeta too weak to fight.

We decide to spiral down towards the Cornucopia to look for water, but by mid afternoon, it's clear Peeta and Mags can't go on. We choose a spot around ten metres away from the force field, because we can deflect our enemies into it if we're attacked. Mags pulls blades of the sharp grass that grows in two metre high tufts out of the ground and begins weaving them together into mats. Since she has had no ill effects from the nuts, Peeta collects some and throws them against the force field to fry them, peeling off the shells and putting the insides on a wide leaf. By this point, we're all thirsty, and I've stopped sweating, probably because there isn't enough water in my body for that.

'Finn?' I say.

'Yeah?'

'You stand guard and I'll look for water, okay?'

'But - '

'I won't go far. I'll do some hunting if I can.'

I move through the trees, bow loaded, when I hear the first cannons go off. So the bloodbath by the Cornucopia must be over. I count eight shots. Not as many as normal, but it's worse, because I know their names, have spoken to them. I lean against a tree and glance around, starting to notice the animals. Tree lizards clinging to the bark of trees, large, bright birds, and some sort of rat possum thing. I shoot it, and examine it. It's some sort of rodent with grey mottled fur and two wicked teeth protruding over its lower lip. I gut and skin it when I notice something. It's muzzle is... Wet? Like it's been drinking recently. Excited, I search for water nearby. Nothing. Not even a drop. If it carries on like this, we'll die of thirst. And I can't let that happen. Won't let that happen.