lost | the hunger games

• xix •

"Brutus and Enobaria were able to escape just as the damned island began to spin," Johanna spit. "I'm assuming you took care of Gloss."

I nodded.

"We should go back to the beach. The island isn't safe. We never should've assumed so either," Finnick said, irritated with himself for the same reasons I was irritated with myself. No one objected as we steadied ourselves to leave the Cornucopia. Instinctually, I reached behind me for my scythe, but it was not there. My stomach dropped when I grabbed at the air. The scene played out in my brain as I toppled into the water, my golden scythe on the ground sliding with me into the water. I grit my teeth.

"My scythe and sword are both gone. Let me grab a weapon and I'll follow you."

Finnick nodded at the others. "Go."

Not needing to be told twice, the group unsteadily traveled down the black spires to the beach. As Beetee passed me, I thought about giving my condolences and holding his arm, patting his shoulder, something. Only to remember that they were in the arena, and had a job to do. Grief had no room here for us. We barely had enough room to breathe as it was.

I trudged up to the island, taking inventory of what was left. At least I still had my dagger holstered around my thigh. Most of the weaponry and boxes were floating or had sunken to the "ocean" floor. But by some sheer, horrible luck, there's a few more weapons strapped to the back wall, waiting for me, and at the center, was a shining silver trident. Two-pronged and sharpened to a point. There was black leather along its midsection of the handle, and its blunt end was textured the same way a meat mallet was. I took it from its hiding place, feeling bile from my adoration of its perfection. I turned toward the other weapons, but all there was left is another sword and a smaller quiver of arrows and bow. Although I was trained well in the other weaponry, it was nothing compared to the mastered technique of the trident. Despite everything I'd done with my scythes, the trident would always be my specialty.

"That looks like it was made for you," Finnick said with ease. I could see him leaning on his own trident. "Take it. We'll need it."

I could tell there was no room for hesitance in his demand. This wasn't about my own issues, and I could table it until then. I was grateful for Finnick's clipped tone, shamed for needing a push in taking the trident. But I said nothing as I left the darkness of the ornamental hut and let Finnick lead me out.

I carefully watched him attempt to balance his weight, which is when I notice the wound in his thigh. "Who's that from?"

"Enobaria," Finnick answered. He paused before the strips of black rock to take off his undershirt and tied it around the wound. A hiss of pain. "A little gift from her knife."

"It doesn't look little."

"Well I guess now we're matching," he replied, gesturing toward my wound on my side. My own wound was deep, but after a couple of hours of reapplying the healing salve, it was barely noticeable and already looking weeks old.

When we got to the beach, the others were already discussing our next move. After the game makers had spun the cornucopia around, there was no telling where the twelve o'clock tree was.

"I should've never mentioned the clock," Katniss bit out. "Now they've taken that advantage away as well."

"Only temporarily," Beetee promised. "At ten, we'll see the wave and be back on track."

Peeta agreed with Beetee. "Yes, they can't redesign the whole arena."

"It doesn't matter," Johanna said impatiently. "You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless."

I could tell in Katniss's eyes that Johanna's words are the only ones to grant her solace. The irony of it all. I nodded at Johanna as if to second her statement. I looked around the circle. "So who's left?" I then added, "Besides Brutus and Enobaria."

"Chaff?" Peeta made a noncommittal shrug.

I scoffed. Chaff was no threat to us. Alliance or not, he wasn't someone to worry about. "If they're all that's left I think we'll be fine."

Peeta frowned. Maybe I sounded a little careless. I didn't know. I'd forgotten the sound of my voice. Johanna broke the silence. "Come on, I need water."

Brushing the sand from his lap, Peeta volunteered to find a trunk they could tap for water. I could see Katniss beginning to rise to accompany him, only for Finnick to stop him. "No, it's my turn."

"At least let me watch your back," Peeta insisted. Johanna cut him off with an inelegant wave of her hand.

"Katniss and Pallas can do that." She handed the boy a large jungle leaf. "You need to make a new map since the other one washed away."

I stood without hesitation, silently watching the internal debates warring within the Twelves. I suppose Katniss deemed themselves capable to be split up when she followed Finnick and I into the jungle.

Katniss was staring hard at Finnick's back as he tapped different trees. As I gripped my trident, I could see the inner workings of her brain trying to figure us out. Suspicion leaked through eyes as the gears turned in her brain, making sense of our actions.

I tried to make sense of Johanna's. She wasn't exactly one for subtlety, and her intervention on the beach didn't help keep our mission a secret. Not to mention it would've been safer for me to stay on the beach rather than tag along with two experienced fighters in a silent jungle. Experienced fighters. I turned away from the others, my face toward the jungle as I examined the foliage. A bird flew into a tree branch parallel to our group. It seemed delicate. Too peaceful for a death cage. Finnick asked Katniss for the tools to tap a vein as I watched the bird. From my peripheral, I saw Katniss reach into her belt. At the same time, the bird opened its mouth and promptly began to scream.

• • •

The jabber jays swooped down on us, screaming in the voices of our loved ones. There was nothing we could do to get out. Katniss curled in on herself, trying to cover her ears as she screamed herself. Maybe she was drowning out their voices with her own. Peeta pounded his fist to the wall, trying to comfort his partner, but no sound could be heard. My first instinct was to do the same, but somehow it faded, and the screams drowned out. I fell to my knees and fell on my back to the ground with a thump. My expression went slack, and I felt my mind retract deep into itself. I stared up at the birds swooping down on me. They never tried to peck my eyes out or anything similar to physical harm. The game makers must know that it would be pointless. I retreated so far into myself all I was staring out of was a hollow husk, a shell of a small girl.

I think Peeta turned to face me at some point in my peripheral vision. I must've looked so cold. One jabber jay actually attempted to swoop down on me, but somehow I had caught it with my hand. It screamed at me—my mother begging me to save her life. I squeezed its neck, then pulled with another hand until I heard the pop, and felt the bird go limp in my hands. The bird was cold as I kept it dead on my chest, unwilling to move my hand and set it down away from me. It was as if I physically did not have the strength to. The bird seemed to weigh four tons, pressing on my chest, restricting my breathing. I could not breathe. Was I breathing? I can't remember.

Lucas, Mom, Dad. They were the loudest. I'm sure they'd chosen to use Amos as well. A disturbingly curious part of me wondered if they used Ben's voice. I couldn't hear him, but I could hear Rue's. I closed my eyes.

• • •

senior semester senioritis.

i'm so terribly sorry for disappearing for so long. uni apps suck. and I also lost motivation for this section of the book bc of how much explaining is required😭

anyways,, here's a more filler chapter than anything. and what is a filler chapter without pallas suffering :)