Nothing Personal

Fire - 6

Skyler's stomach grumbled angrily at her, completely empty. She'd spent two days doing nothing, but she couldn't do that any more. Up here she was maybe safe from tributes, but vulnerable to the Gamemakers. And she needed to eat. Perhaps there would be food in the houses, and what were the odds on her chosing a house with a tribute in it? Especially since there were only six of them left. She'd heard the two cannons last night and wondered who both of them were, before she realised that it didn't make a difference.

She was also soaking wet and cold. Her glasses were streaked with rain that she couldn't wipe off, to the point where her vision was clearer if she didn't wear them. She'd tried using them to start a fire but the wood was too damp. Since the medicine, she'd had nothing from her sponsors. It probably was that little outburst from earlier; she'd nearly forgotten about it. Surely they were going to get her back for that.

The jabberjay was perched on the spire again, looking at her. It hadn't moved from the building and she'd found herself talking to it, not that it was much of a conversation.

"You're still here," she sighed to it.

"You're still here," it echoed. 

True. She was still here. Four days ago there had been twenty four. Now there were six, and she was one of them. And she wasn't a killer.

She would have to. The Gamemakers wouldn't let her get away with not killing someone, if she was to win. She still had the bow and arrow, though she hadn't shot it since she'd hit Pataya. She shuddered; in that moment she'd fired it, she'd been aiming for her head. She'd aimed to kill. But otherwise Pataya would have killed Daisuke, she didn't doubt that. She'd saved the boy's life, and it wasn't her kill anyway. Daisuke himself had delivered the final blow. And Sebastian, when he'd been about to attack the twins. She'd joked about it, but it wasn't funny. She'd aimed to killed again, and missed again.

Where had that got her? Daisuke was dead anyway. She dearly hoped it hadn't been painful, that somebody merciful had got to him, if there was anyone like that left. If she had to kill, she would make sure that it was painless. It was the only way she could defy the Capitol, apart from surviving. They wanted to see pain and suffering; she saw it every day of her life. Starved bodies, all skin and bones, waiting to be carted away, the Peacekeeper towers glaring down at them all, the sun glinting off the rifles.

She wouldn't give it to them here.

She forced herself to smile for the cameras.

"You're still here," the jabberjay reminded her. It sounded bored, not comforting, but that's how she had sounded. She shook her head, sending raindrops flying in all directions. Where was she going to find food? She doubted that the Gamemakers would be stupid enough to put food in the houses, so she'd need to hunt. She didn't want to go back to the woods near the Cornucopia. Everyone was probably heading back there, waiting for the inevitable feast and trying to get a head start on everyone else. She wouldn't be surprised if they were down to three by the end of the day, with or without the Gamemakers trying to bring them together. It was a cold thought; three kids dying over the course of one day.

She wouldn't be one of them.

The hills were an option, especially the bushes surrounding them. There would probably be small mammals in there, or at least nesting birds. People might be able to see her, but she doubted they'd go chasing her, especially when there were stronger people out there. And then she'd be able to see people coming.

Her vision was still blurry, but she could make out one of the thicker branches on the tree she'd used to get up here. Trying hard to ignore the persistant gap in her stomach, she leapt for it and caught it with her fingertips, swinging expertly. It was almost like being back at home.