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Chapter Thirty-Four:
Alia Fletson
As soon as Cato and I arrived back at the cave, we collapsed to the ground, exhausted from the battle at the Feast.
The starvation was also creeping its way back into our systems, only making our bodies weaker and sorer.
By this point, we were way past the idea of going hunting for food. My arms were practically numb, so my shooting aim would be awful. And Cato wasn’t an archery pro to begin with, so his aim would be even worse. Besides, there were only five of us left: Cato and I, the clever fox-faced girl from District Five, Cyra and Gale. Only one more to go, and I knew that the Gamemakers had come us with some ridiculously cruel plan as to how to end the Games.
I thought of what they had done in the past: turning all the rivers into lava, flesh-eating birds, acid rain, dropping the temperature way below zero, the bombings and fires of this year… it had to be something they had never done before, something that would make all of their previous plans look innocent compared to what they had in store. After all, this was the ‘most interesting year we’ve ever had in the history of the Hunger Games’.
I eventually gave up on trying to predict the Gamemakers’ next move. Whatever it was, I knew it would hit hard without warning.
Just like with the feast. The Gamemakers had been practically inactive up until then. I had to admit, they were clever. They tricked all of us into thinking they weren’t gonna do anything… so when they did, we would be caught completely off guard. I know I didn’t foresee the bombings.
But forget the Gamemakers and their torturous plans. There was something much more important that lingered in the back of my mind…
It doesn’t matter what I say to you at this point, Alia. You’ve lost it. I should’ve known from the beginning that this was going to happen. I mean, you’re Career, after all. You’ve spent your entire life training to slaughter others. Do you even realize how sick that is? You don’t even realize what you’re doing! I know what you’re thinking, that I’m in no position to judge because I don’t have a clue about your life. But if you think that it’s no big deal to just annihilate innocent people, then you’re not as sane as I thought you were.
Cyra, Cyra, Cyra… you think you’re so clever with your words, dontcha? Think you’re so tough because you have the courage to smack-talk the most lethal female tribute of this year’s Games? Think again, Cyra, I am perfectly aware of ‘what I’m doing.’ Not once did I ever prance around the arena declaring my love of killing others. She thinks that just because I want her dead means I enjoyed killing the others? Clearly, she’s unaware of how I felt when I saw Astrana die before my own eyes. It’s one thing for her to die in general… but to have the one I love kill her? That’s a completely different story, one that’s even more tragic.
Well, Cyra Merison doesn’t have a clue about anything. All she knows is that I want her dead. Does she even realize that she’s driven me to the point of insanity? How would that make poor little Fish Girl feel if she knew she was responsible? I had a clear head on my shoulders before she dropped that filthy Tracker Jacker nest on me. When the nest exploded, so did all my years of anger that I had bottled up inside for so long. To the outside world, I seem like a perfectly happy, calm person. But I’ve been screaming on the inside for a very long time. And the Hunger Games has been my perfect place to vent and try and rid myself of all that anger. There were some downsides, though. Like Cyra. She certainly didn’t help to calm me down– she actually made things much worse.
But, honestly, there was no point for me to sit here and dwell on how Fish Girl made me go delirious. There were much more important things at stake… surviving the climax of the Hunger Games.
At that moment, I got up from the cave ground, and said, “Let’s get this over with, Cato. The Games will end tonight; I know that for a fact. There’s only one more tribute standing between us and victory.”
Cato stood up to face me, allowing me to get a closer look at him. He wasn’t in any better shape than before, still covered in bruises, dirt, blood, and cuts. I probably didn’t look much better, though, after all the action at the Feast.
We were both extremely exhausted and wounded, so I knew that it would be challenging for us to run around the arena with the same speed and strength we had only a day ago. But if there’s one thing you couldn’t say about Cato and I… it’s that we never give up.
With that, we left the cave and our backpacks behind. The last thing we needed was for the weight of the packs to wear us down. Besides, we were covered in the mesh-net body armor and had swords at our belts.
By the time we reached the forest, all the light had vanished from the sky, leaving it as pitch-black and dark as if it was nighttime.
“What time is it?” I asked, confused by the sudden nightfall. It was still bright and sunny a few minutes ago, so I figured the Gamemakers must’ve altered the light of the arena sky.
“Probably around two… Guess they’re just in a rush to end it,” Cato said.
I nodded and replied, “And however they choose to end it… it won’t be pretty…”
The temperature had also dropped dramatically to where it was almost ten degrees Fahrenheit.
I rubbed my hands together to keep myself warm, seeing the reflection of my breath in the chilling air as I exhaled.
The frosted leaves crunched underneath our feet as we continued to creep through the forest, swords out and ready to attack at any moment.
When I heard the sudden rustle of leaves, I stopped in my place.
“Alia–?” Cato began, just as I put my pointer finger to his lips to shush him.
“Be… very quiet…” I mouthed to him, pivoting on the heel of my combat boots to face the sound.
Suddenly, A high, piercing shriek broke the eerie silence.
Cato’s blue-green eyes went wide as the shrieking and growling continued, coming closer and closer.
“What’s t-t-that…?” Cato asked, shivering from the cold as he pointed towards the direction of the noises.
“I don’t see anything, C–”
Before I could finish my sentence, a pack of horrendous creatures burst out from behind a cluster of evergreens, snarling and screeching as they headed towards us.
Cato and I exchanged a quick glance and then began sprinting in the opposite direction.
They were mutations. Genetically mutated creatures of the Capitol, specifically designed for this year’s Games. I had seen mutations in the previous years, mostly bloodthirsty wolves, but never had they been quite as horrific. I wasn’t even sure what this mutation was a combination of, but I had no doubt that they were extremely dangerous.
My heart was beating out of my chest, my legs so weak that I felt I could collapse any minute. Cato was coughing and gagging heavily in-between short, harsh breaths. Both of our faces were turning purple as the sweat dripped down our foreheads.
One of the mutations nipped at the back of my heel, making me flinch and scream with pain. Of course they managed to sink their teeth into a part of me that wasn’t covered in armor.
“Alia…” Cato said in-between his coughing and panting, “Promise… me… that… you… won’t… stop… running…”
“Only if you promise the same. We’re almost to the Cornucopia,” I sighed, my voice cracking.
Cato nodded as we continued darting through the arena, the mutations following shortly behind.
When the Cornucopia came in view, a slight smile came to my face. However, when I saw just who was on top of the Cornucopia shouting at the sky, my lips formed a straight line as my blue eyes turned cold and hard.
“You get on the Cornucopia, Cato,” I snarled through my heavy breathing, “I’ve got a plan…”
As soon as we neared the Cornucopia, Cato headed off towards the mutation-free side and pulled himself up to where he stood behind Gale Hawthorne.
I whipped around and stabbed three mutations in the nose with my sword and then crept up behind the opposite side of the Cornucopia.
I took a moment to catch my breath before I put the swords back at my belt and reached my hand up to the Cornucopia, grabbing Cyra’s right ankle.
As soon as my ice-cold hand clasped around her skin, she froze.
I then dragged her down onto the ground as I pulled myself up onto the Cornucopia.
Before I had anytime to stand up, I heard a hand bang against the Cornucopia.
Fish Girl was climbing right back up.
I could’ve kicked my foot back and nailed her in the face, which would’ve sent her flying back onto the ground. But I chose to draw a sword and get up instead.
Cato had his hands clasped around Gale’s throat as he tried to feed him to the mutations on the other side of the Cornucopia. Gale then slashed the side of Cato’s face with an arrowhead, reopening one of his wounds as he doubled over in pain, coughing as the blood dripped down.
Gale gasped for breath just as Cato stood up and clenched his left arm around Gale’s neck.
When Cato began to laugh, I assumed that Cyra was back on the Cornucopia.
She stood beside me, a knife clutched in her hand, the look of anger deep in her violet eyes.
“Go on, Fish Girl, throw your little knife at me. That’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it?” Cato asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that he had lost it as he tightened his grip on Gale's neck, “To kill me, right? You just loooove to hate those that you know nothing about, dontcha? Huh?”
Cyra’s violet eyes were fixed on Gale’s, who was choking and struggling for oxygen.
“I can still do it, you know. One more kill... the only thing I know how to do…” Cato trails off as he glances up at the sky and screams, “IS THAT WHAT THEY WANT, HUH?!? HAPPY NOW?!?”
She gave Cato a strange look, absolutely mortified by the madness that had infected him…
“It’s all about bringing pride to our District…” I say to Cyra, “Winning the Games… it’s all we’ve looked forward to our entire lives. To make our District Proud when we’re crowned as victors. This is what we were born to do! Don’t you understand? You know, I don’t even want to kill you anymore! All I want is to get out of here alive!!!”
Tears poured down my blood and dirt-stained face as the mutations began to make their way onto Gale and Cato’s side of the Cornucopia. Oh, right, the mutations had wings… Of course they did…
Cyra turned to me and asked, “Can I trust you?”
“For what?” I croaked as I heard bloodcurdling screams erupt from the opposite side of the Cornucopia.
Gale was fighting off two mutations and five were above Cato, trying to tear him limb from limb. He yelped in agony as they bit into him, wanting to rid him of the armor to where he would be completely vulnerable to their attack.
I noticed that Cyra’s face was streaked with tears as well as she replied, “That you won’t kill me. I don’t hate you, Alia, no matter how many times you’ve tried to kill me. I hate them. The Gamemakers, the Capitol, anyone involved with the creation of such a terrible thing known as the Hunger Games. I don’t care how many people you or Cato have killed. I just don’t want to see anyone else suffer because of their sick form of entertainment.”
I give Cyra a small smile as I take another sword from my belt. “Deal.”
She whips out a couple knives from her back pocket, throwing them into the necks of the mutations as I slash my way through a pack of them.
Another one of Cyra’s knives pierces the skull of the last mutation.
I grab Cato’s hand, which is dripping in blood from the mutations, as I pull him up and into my arms. I notice that his other hand has been torn off by the mutations, which makes me take off my DISTRICT TWO jacket and wrap it around the wound to keep him from losing too much blood.
Cato smiles, but is so worn out from almost being ripped to pieces that he doesn’t say a single thing.
Then, I hear it. The final cannon.
I turn my head slightly to see the fox-faced girl from Five dead on the ground with an arrow through her skull.
Cyra gives me a warm smile as Claudius Templesmith announces, “Congratulations to Cyra, Alia, Cato, and Gale… the winners of the Seventy-Fourth annual Hunger Games!!!!!!!!!!”
Gale throws his bow on the ground and squeezes Cyra in a hug as Cato and I do the same.
Just as the hovercraft appears above the four of us to take us back to the Capitol, I turn around to Cyra and say, “Thank you. And I’m not sure if you can forgive me or not, but I'm sorry for trying to kill you all those times.”
Cyra smirks. “You know, Alia, I forgive you. And I know that you’ll probably never understand what I mean when I say that it’s the Capitol’s fault. You’re from a District where it’s an honor to participate in this bloodbath. And I’m in no position to judge that because we’re from two totally different backgrounds. But I believe that deep down… you know that they’re the real enemy. Not any of the tributes in the Games, but the creators of the Games themselves. The ones who enjoy watching children die while others turn into monsters to survive.”
I had to admit, Cyra was wise beyond her years.
Suddenly, a Peacekeeper reached her hand out to me with the words, “Come on, now. Let’s take you back to the Capitol.”
A flicker of hate entered Cyra’s violet eyes as she shoved past the Capitol Peacekeeper and the rest of us stumbled into the hovercraft.
As soon as we stepped off the hovercraft and into the Capitol, we were swarmed by dozens of Capitol reporters, flashing their cameras to take our pictures and shoving their microphones in our faces.
I blocked out all of their interrogations and sickeningly cheery smiles as the Peacekeepers led us into the Remake Center.
The room was crawling with Capitol doctors, who laid each of us down in separate beds, and stabbed our arms with IVs, injecting us with special Capitol medicine. The medicine pumping through our veins knocked us out instantly, allowing the doctors to begin their repair on us.