twenty-four - ardor
- - - ➳
the cannons are more frequent now than ever, which i guess is what the gamemakers want. every booming sound makes me jump and sends a chill down my spine. this is what the games were always supposed to sound like. the air is supposed to be smothered with the sense of death, and now with the tributes coming back to life and needing to be killed once more, it will be twice as horrible.
matthias, emmanuelle, and i sit in her tent with a large piece of paper in the middle of our circle. i don't ask where she got it from. she seems to have everything– even a pencil.
emmanuelle taps the tip on the paper with a determined expression on her face. "let's see what we know about these bastards."
"i noticed the cannons don't go off when you kill them," matthias recalls almost without thought. "maybe because they're already dead?"
emmanuelle nods. "good observation." she leans over and jots a quick note of it in loopy handwriting. "thalia, anything?"
i shrug, thinking back to my fights with carly and bliss. "i mean, they're obviously not the tributes themselves– just clones or something. they're immensely strong and fast, never seeming to get tired. killing seems to be their only intention. and they're getting closer and closer to the real tributes. when we found carly's clone, she didn't make a sound. bliss' actually had her voice."
we sit in the tent for about an hour, sharing our observations and making note of them. emmanuelle is an incredibly fast writer. the pencil moves across the left side of the paper at a quick speed and somehow her manuscript isn't messy in the slightest. she doesn't even seem to pick up her wrist as she writes.
she sits back, moving her shoulder-length dark hair out of her face. "i saw astrid and emrys fighting two at once. the clones or whatever didn't even seem to notice each other."
i purse my lips, pinching my eyebrows. "that's weird. maybe they're designed to only sense when a living tribute is near?"
matthias snaps his fingers as if he has just made an important scientific discovery. "body heat. that's how they can tell."
emmanuelle's eyes sparkle with excitement at this breakthrough and scrawls it onto the paper. i send matthias a smile, to which he quickly returns. the picture of his grinning face sends a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
"has anyone been keeping track of how many tributes are left?" emmanuelle asks, her brown eyes flickering between the two of us. our smiles drop off our faces and are replaced with troubled looks. matthias and i share an uneasy glance at which emmanuelle sighs. "no? okay."
"i did at first," i explain quickly. "but eventually i got too caught up in trying not to die."
emanuelle nods in understanding. "okay. well, we can start off with the ones we know for sure are gone." the pencil hovers above the paper for a split second before her wrist rests back on it. i wonder why she hesitated, but it isn't my business to ask.
soon the paper is filled up with notes and theories. emmanuelle spins it around so we can read it. i lean slightly forward so i can see it more clearly.
•canons don't go off
•high bloodlust
•clones?
•don't sense other clones - body heat
•no natural needs
- don't get tired
-strong
-fast
•titus
•lana
•cable
•asher
•bliss
•cooper
•nina
•carly
•grover
•cael
•milo
•arley
•khylin
•eve
•maika
•beck
8 TRIBUTES STANDING
16 GONE
supplies:
-water
-disinfectant
-blankets
-paper & pencil
-tent
-rabbits & squirrels
-berries
-night vision goggles
-plastic scrap
-weapons
let's beat these bastards
later that night, i lay wide awake in emmanuelle's tent. her soft snores from beside me make my body yearn for rest, but my brain won't allow it. i wonder if i'll ever be able to sleep on my own again. every time i close my eyes, i'm plagued with haunting images of the horrors i've experienced in the games thus far. i remember every speck of tragedy with uncanny clarity. the loss of asher and carly still makes my heart feel like it's caving in on itself, spreading an ache down to my toes.
matthias has offered to take watch. maybe that's part of the reason why i'm feeling so antsy. every nerve in my seems to itch to get up, to check on him. make sure he's okay.
i hit myself. i'm way too attached to him. maybe a little time away will help with the problem.
rolling on my side, i stare at the wall of the tent and try to relax. i don't hear a thing from outside except for the quiet chirping of cicadas. my eyelids flutter shut and i'm immediately stabbed with grotesque images of the games. of the nightmare i had the day asher died. the tributes' empty eyes...
i sit up straight so quickly my head swims for a second. my heart hammers painfully against my ribs. the walls of the tent seem to be closing in on me. they fold in closer and closer until the air turns stuffy and thick, so dense it won't go into my lungs. i can't breathe. i want to, but i can't. i can hear the blood rushing in my ears. i need to get out.
i throw the blankets off of me and fumble with the zipper on the entrance. my shaking hands can't grasp onto it. my lungs burn and i can feel restless thoughts plaguing my head, cramming it with so much that it begins to ache.
i'm choking when i finally unzip the flap, diving out of the tent and onto the dirt. my hands catch my fall and i push my face above the ground, sucking in the cool night air.
matthias jumps a mile and whirls around, sword clenched tightly in his hand and a fierce look in his eyes. once he sees me, the expression melts and is replaced with one of concern. "thalia, you okay?"
i nod, coughing a bit as i push myself up so i'm standing. my hands are more steady than before and i'm able to close the tent without trouble. the zipper shuts out any of emmanuelle's snores.
matthias simply watches as i come over slowly and stand beside him. my eyes scan the woods surrounding us, black shadows in the dark of night.
"what are you doing?" he asks in a gentle tone. "what's wrong?"
i don't look at him. instead, i focus on the trees in front of us when i respond. "go sleep. i'll take watch."
matthias sighs tiredly. we've had this argument before and he knows how it's going to end. "thalia, you need the sleep."
"and so do you," i retort, flickering my gaze to him. he just stares at me like he's about to argue, the pale moonlight washing out the color of his face. dried cuts and scratches mark his skin like graffiti. his ice-blue eyes seem to burn into mine.
i'm not sure why i haven't moved or said anything. my feet are rooted in place. i couldn't walk or look away if i tried.
my eyes flicker down to his lips, slightly chapped and worn, and they stay there. i think he's pulling me closer. i don't know. everything else is muted around me like emmanuelle isn't sleeping just yards away. it feels like we're alone. not in the hunger games. just in the woods back in twelve.
i'm rising onto my toes. his face is coming closer. i'm vaguely aware of what's happening. i can only focus on how my heart is pounding again.
BOOM.
the loud, thunderous sound of a cannon causes me to jump. instinctively, i pull a knife out of my belt as i turn, poised to throw.
nothing happens afterward. it echoes back to silence, and then the cicadas begin their merry song again. i slowly relax and slide the knife back into place.
matthias has also gotten his sword out. i turn back around just in time to see him sheathe it. he shifts his weight a bit. "you can take the watch if you really want to, okay? i'll be in the tent if you need me."
he turns and heads toward the tent. is it selfish of me that i don't want him to go now?
-
the next morning, we're all refreshed and ready to go. emmanuelle packs up the necessities in a weathered backpack the color of mud and adjusts it over her shoulders. we don't know if we'll ever make it back to this camp.
she suggests that we head for the pond. now that she's cleaned our wounds, we'll be able to (hopefully) bathe easily. she also mentions that she has the disinfectant and bandages with her just in case.
as we trek in the direction of the water, i walk beside emmanuelle. her short hair has been gathered into a messy ponytail that barely grazes her shoulders. her golden skin is still dusted with dirt and blood.
"how long will this alliance last?" i ask out of curiosity. "not that we don't need your help. it's just that...you said..."
emmanuelle keeps her brown eyes trained ahead of her. her hands grasp tightly on the straps of the backpack like she's afraid it'll slip off or someone will try to steal it. "for however long we need it. right now, i need your ability to gather safe plants and matthias's strength. you need my supplies. when we've each given each other what we need, we'll split up again." she pauses, looking like she's deciding on something. "and if you need anything afterward, i might give it to you. maybe."
a small smile graces my lips. emmanuelle reminds me a little bit of myself, though much more controlled. we're both good burglars and choosy over who we team up with.
matthias is walking a fair way ahead of us with his sword out. it's like he's always on edge now. though i don't blame him– he has every reason to be. his head swivels around once in a while to make sure no tributes are hidden in the trees.
"you must really love him, don't you?" emmanuelle asks softly. the words surprise me and i turn to her, my lips parted in a gape. she laughs with a warm expression on her face. "don't worry. i won't tell him."
i close my mouth and feel my face heat up a little bit. "i do not love him."
she shakes her head. "you don't love him the way you love your family. you don't love him the way you might love lamb stew. you may not even be in love with him, but there's a special connection. i can see it. it's there."
i'm silent. i don't know what to say. how am i supposed to respond to that?
"you might have loved asher as a person," she continues. "you might have loved carly as an ally. you love katniss and peeta as mentors. those are all different kinds of it. you don't love one person the same way you love another."
what i say next is probably stupid. "how are you such an expert on love?"
emmanuelle's face becomes cloudy. suddenly i notice dark sunspots on her neck and parts of her face that i didn't see before. "because i've been stripped of it. you never understand love until you've had it taken away from you. it's kind of like the saying 'you never know what you have until it's gone.'"
when she finishes, her lips pull into a line. i know the conversation is over. i turn my attention back to matthias ahead of us, wondering what kinds of love i feel for him, and which ones he feels for me, if any at all.
gif is thalia being cautious
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this chapter is short because the next ones are gonna be lead even closer to the end oooooooh!!!!!!
you all must hate me even more now because they probably would have kissed and then someone had to die. whoops. soz.
sorry for the long wait! i literally had no clue what i wanted to write so i dug a little deeper into thalia figuring out her feelings and having to deal with herself. i love her.
dedicated to -bilesbilinski- because their comments >
xoxo,
kristyn