Too Clever

Chapter 22

     The water continues to shoot out of the trees as I stumble along the undergrowth of the forest floor. The tree roots in this area create obstacles that slow me down a little, but I'm fast enough to keep a steady pace ahead of most of the water.
More streams of water come spilling out of the trees, but this time ahead of me. I can't run away from it, as the water is now shooting out of the trees from every which way. So I run through it without a second thought.
The water smacks against my bare skin, stinging my arms and face because of the force. Luckily it doesn't seem to have any chemical substance that could boil my skin off. I didn't consider before I plowed through the jets that it could be harmful; I was so focused on getting away from the streaming water. Sometimes it's not good to consider so many possibilities.
The water comes down on me with such force that I almost lose my balance at one point, but I catch onto a low hanging tree branch to hold my ground.
My wet hair comes undone and smacks against my face, obscuring my field of vision. I blindly stumble through the forest, desperately trying in vain to get my hair out of my eyes, but the flood of water makes this task ten times harder.
I finally manage to see again, but it wasn't worth all the effort. All I can see is a wall of mist around me, preventing me from seeing even a few feet in front of me.
The hissing sound of the jets no longer rings in my ears. The water has stopped shooting out of the trees. The mist must simply be water vapor evaporating off of the hot ground.
The mist clears up after about a minute, and I can finally see again. I kneel down to catch my breath and study my surroundings. I appear to be in a whole different part of the forest. Instead of willow trees, pines trees now tower over me, pine cones suspended from their long, sharp needles. This area of the arena is also very rocky, with big flat boulders lying around.
But why am I here? Is it just a coincidence that there happened to be a flood at the same time and place as I was? Or was there a purpose behind it, a reason to force me out of my previous area? I think back to past Hunger Games and rack my brain for clues. I've seen it happen a few times when a Gamemaker's weapon drove a tribute into an area where their were other tributes around because she was so far away from everyone else.
So it wasn't to force me out of the area; it was to drive me towards this one. And that can only mean one thing—I'm not alone. There has to be at least one other tribute around. I have to clear out.
But which way to go? I can't turn around in the direction I came in; the Gamemakers could turn the jets back on and force me right back here. But I'm not going to continue in the direction the flood brought me in either. I would be heading straight into another tribute. So the only choice is to go left or right.
Since there doesn't seem to be any difference in the landscape either way, I wring out my hair, gather my things, and head to the left.
As I walk through the forest, beads of sweat drip down the side of my face, and I can feel the back of my neck wet with sweat. The twelve o'clock sun beats down on my back, dehydrating me even further. The Gamemakers are definitely raising the temperature during the day and sending it plummeting at night.
I trudge along the thick layer of pine needles for about an hour before I pick up a soft flowing sound. I stop in my tracks, cupping my ear with my hand. The sound continues, and I shake my head to clear it in case I'm imagining it. But no, that sound could only be one thing.
Water!
I carefully make my way over to the river, trying not to lose my patience and sprint; the pine needles on the ground make it loud enough when I walk, and running surely would be enough to alert anyone in the area close by. I cross over the flat stretch of boulders, kneel down on the riverbank, and unzip my soaked backpack.
     A powerful stream of water rushes up against the bank and splashes my cheek. It's cold now, but it will probably become a little hotter as the temperature continues to rise during the day.
     I take my water skin and dunk it in the river up to my wrist. After drinking about half of it, I fill it back up and head back to the tree line where the rocky terrain ends. My shadow casts on the rocks in front of me as I walk, and can't help but notice how skinny it looks. I've always been relatively thin, but it's never been to the point where I could easily count my ribs.
     Shrugging away the thought before I can think about home again, and find shade under a cluster of pine trees that are close enough together to block out most of the sunlight. I eat some of the berries I collected earlier, then take a moment to cool down. I wipe the sheen of sweat off my forehead with my shirt and pour a little bit of the cold water from the river over my hairline. My hair, still a little damp from the Gamemakers' flood, helps a little to cool me down.
Again, I'm running low on food. Only the berries I recently collected and a handful of roots I dug up earlier remain. So after about an hour of rest, I take my things and go on a small hike along the river bank. It isn't long before I find some more roots. I place my backpack and blanket on the ground in front of me and crouch down. But just as I am about to dig out a small handful of roots, I hear a faint snap!
Alarmed, I swing my head around and listen in the general direction from where I heard the sound. I sit as still as I can, desperately hoping it was just a rabbit or a squirrel scampering across the pine needles.
Movement off to the left catches my eye, and I slowly turn my head to be able to get a better viewpoint. Another tribute is slowly walking through the trees about fifty meters away. I can just make out a quiver of arrows strapped on her back; it must be Katniss.
     I quietly take my backpack and blanket and slowly crawl around to the other side of the bush, which should be enough to conceal me from this distance. I squint my eyes and peer through the leaves, not daring to let Katniss out of sight.
     She continues walking in the same direction for a few moments until finally she begins to make a wide loop around the area back in the direction she came from. I'm guessing she's left the rest of her stuff somewhere in that general direction. Probably with Peeta, assuming they've become a team after the rule change.
     After I'm sure that Katniss is out of range and not coming back, at least not for now, I go back to digging up my roots. Once I've got a good amount, and my neck is glistening with sweat, I take my things and sit on a rock nearby in the shade. But this gives me an idea.
     The rocks not under the trees are extremely hot from soaking in the blazing sun, maybe even hot enough to cook my roots a bit. So I place a handful of them on a heated boulder and sure enough, my roots are cooked within a few minutes. I take them back into the shade and settle down for a meal of roots, berries, and cold water from the river. Not a bad meal at all, for the Hunger Games.
     In a few hours, twilight replaces the afternoon sun, and with it comes a chilled breeze, so I put my jacket on and rub my hands together, breathing hot air into my palms. It's amazing how quickly the temperature can drop with the press of a button by a Gamemaker.
     I'm startled by the sound of trumpets, followed by the voice of Claudius Templesmith. He announces that there will be a feast at dawn tomorrow, at the Cornucopia. Then he goes on in explaining that each of us tributes desperately needs something, which will be available to us at the feast if we do indeed turn up to it. He ends his announcement with "Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
     What do I desperately need? I'm good on food, as the riverbank provides me with roots, berries, and water. I have a blanket, so I can stay warm at night.
     "Think, Fleta, think," I whisper into the dusk, urging myself to come up with the thing I desperately need.
     I am pretty well off with the things I need for survival, but what about if it comes down to me and one other tribute? How will I be able to win the Games if I don't have—
     "A weapon!" I whisper. That's the thing I desperately need to win these Games. I'll have to go to the feast tomorrow morning—if I don't, I will not be able to win. But I'm pretty far away from the Cornucopia, and I want to be the first tribute there, for surely another tribute could easily take my desperately needed item and run, and then I'm out of luck.
     I need to think of a plan, and quick. Because my life depends on it.