As evening falls, Cas and I share an exquisite meal of cashews, small slices of that delicious bread, a few pieces of dried fruit, and half a banana each, and we've still barely made a dent in our selection. We wash it down with generous sips of water, knowing that we have a brook at our disposal, and lean back against the rocky wall of our hollow to let it all digest in our rumbling stomachs. This time, though, the rumbling isn't from hunger. It's from blissful satisfaction.
I haven't felt this full in a long while. It's amazing. In reality, I think it's only been a matter of days, but to me, it seems like eons. What is this, the fourth day in the arena? I think so. It's hard to believe it hasn't been four weeks. Does time move slower here?
No time to ponder it. The anthem blasts through the air just as darkness settles over the rainforest. No pictures appear in the canopy above. No one died today. The birds return to their blithe songs in seconds.
This is about the point in the Games where most of the tributes have adapted to the arena and are either in hiding or trying to hunt the others down. It's no surprise that there weren't any deaths today. Other than the remaining Careers, I'm sure the tributes from the other outlying districts are lying low, much like Cas and me. It's only a matter of time before the Gamemakers come up with some twisted trick to bring us all together. It's bad business for them to have a dull, deathless day.
I can't worry myself sick with that unnerving thought. It won't do me any good to fret about something that hasn't happened yet. It's difficult, but I try to push it out of my racing mind and instead focus my attention on Cas, who's absentmindedly tracing circles in the dirt with his finger. It's nighttime now, and even though he looks exhausted, something tells me he won't want to go to sleep after what happened last night.
An idea hits me then. It's rather out of the blue, but it makes a smile pull at my lips just thinking about it. "When's your birthday?"
There's a puzzled frown on Cas' face when he glances up to meet my eyes, but he's smiling, too. "What?" he says with a breathy chuckle. "Why?"
I shrug. "Because I don't know that many personal things about you. We haven't really had time to sit down and gossip like we're at a sleepover."
And because I know he won't want to sleep and I'm hoping this will distract him until he relaxes enough, but I don't mention that outright. Plus, I genuinely want to know more about him. I hardly know anything other than bits and pieces regarding his family. It's a win-win.
Cas breathes out another laugh, dropping his gaze to the ground. "September 18," he says when he glances back up. There's an emotion glimmering in his eyes that I can't quite discern, but whatever it is, it makes me happy. "When's yours?"
"January 24." I can't stifle a laugh when he makes a face. "I know, right in the dead of winter. I almost didn't survive because it was so cold that year. At least that's what my mom always says. She could just be being dramatic, though."
His smile widens. I tell him it's his turn to ask me a question now. He pauses to think, seeming to be lost in his mind as he struggles to come up with something to ask. Finally, he says, "What's your favorite color?"
"Ooh, jumping right to the super personal stuff," I remark. I can't help but grin when Cas lets out an abrupt chuckle at my playfully sarcastic comment.
My favorite color. That's a tough one. I draw a deep breath, mulling over my options. I've never really given it too much thought before. There hasn't been a need to, but I have to answer. This is a very important question.
"Blue," I declare. "Like a clear sky."
Cas nods. A different expression passes over his face for a fleeting moment, but it disappears before I have a chance to decipher it. "That's a nice color," he agrees, his voice much softer than it was mere seconds ago. "It's probably a tie between green and purple for me."
"Green like Caesar Flickerman's choice of attire this year?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"God no." The pure disgust in Cas' tone almost sends me into a wild fit of laughter. I've never heard him sound so repulsed, but he quickly smiles again when he realizes how brusque he was. "More like a muted green. Not too vibrant like the trees out there. Nice and mellow. And purple is just so pretty. I see it on a lot of wildflowers that grow in the neighborhood."
I can agree with that. He has good taste in colors.
"What's your favorite season?" I ask.
"Definitely autumn," Cas replies in a heartbeat. "I love when the leaves change colors. It's like a painting come to life. I always walk by the trees on the outskirts of the district when it's autumn, just so I can look at all of the different hues. I guess that means gold is one of my favorite colors, too."
That sounds magical. If we make it out of here, I'd love to join him on that walk. I was always so busy with working that I hardly paid any attention to the changing leaves, but now that he brings it up, I want to see it, too; I make sure to tell him that.
"I like spring," I say. "It means winter is over and the days get longer and warmer. Plus, we have a patch of wildflowers that grows outside our house. They usually pop up after the snow melts. Sam always gets so excited when he sees those little flowers growing. He likes to pick a few and put them in a vase for safekeeping. I guess that's kind of our spring tradition."
A couple of those flowers were still alive and well the morning we left for the reaping.
"What's your favorite food that we ate while we were in the Capitol?" Cas inquires.
Another important question. "Probably either the roasted duck or that insanely delicious apple pie," I say. Great. Now I'm just craving apple pie. We have an apple, sure, but that won't cut it. It's not the same. The Capitol is good for one thing and one thing only, and that's their incredible selection of delectable food.
Cas says his favorite food was the lamb stew we shared the night before the Games. That certainly was flavorful.
We keep going back and forth, asking one another random but entertaining questions. Cas says he'd like to visit District 4 if he could because of the water and their major fishing industry. I have to agree with him on that. Seeing that would be interesting. He also says he's always wanted a cat as a pet, but his family's too poor to afford to take care of one. I tell him about my family's cows, Annie and Clementine, and his face absolutely lights up. I promise him he can hang out with them like Sam does if we get out of here. He seems content with that.
He likes to read whenever he has spare time. That must be why he's so intelligent. I haven't read a book in a long time. I was always so swamped with working in the fields. He says he's never really had a close friend before—I hope he can't hear my heart shattering—but when he asks about Charlie, I tell him that she would love to have him as a friend, would gladly take him under her wing. Now I just want the two of them to meet. I bet they'd be best friends.
That reminds me. Thinking about Charlie and how she isn't attracted to boys makes the thought hit me like a brick wall. It's the question I wanted to ask him before the Games began, but he'd already fallen asleep. About the last thing Caesar asked him during his interview.
But I'm suddenly so flooded with nerves that I can't get the question out. It's just a harmless inquiry. I don't know why I'm freezing up. We're getting to know one another, aren't we? Isn't that what we've been doing for the past hour or so? Why is it so difficult to string those words together and ask the question I've been wanting to since that night?
It's too late. I've missed my chance for the second time. Cas yawns, actually looks like he's ready for sleep. That's good, at least, but I'm frustrated with myself for not spitting the question out sooner. It was the perfect opportunity. We were sharing information about ourselves. Now I might not find another ideal moment like that.
I can't let it eat me up. I'll find out somehow. For now, Cas is looking at me, and it takes me a beat to realize he's speaking to me.
"Can I?" he asks softly, sheepishly, nodding his head at my shoulder.
I open my arm out to him without hesitation. He nestles up next to me, snuggles into my side, and falls asleep in a matter of minutes. I can hear his breathing slow. Mine, on the other hand, only quickens. The soothing sounds of the rainforest are all around me. Cas is asleep, at peace, using me as a pillow like he has plenty of times before. I don't know why there's such a weight on my chest, quickening my breaths and stimulating my racing heart.
I can't figure out the cause, so I try to ignore it for now. Instead I focus on staying alert and keeping watch while Cas rests. It's all I can do.
After a few hours, I wake him. No nightmares tonight. I'm glad. As he sits up, casts me a feeble smile, the weight seems to lessen, but it does nothing to ease my frantic heartbeat.
I have my first dream in what must be days. I'm running from something, darting through the dense foliage of the rainforest, but it's much darker than real life. The tree roots are knotted and gnarled, and they slither beneath my feet as I run for my life, hissing and snarling like a wild animal. Ominous growls echo through the air. Beside me, through the bushes, I see a pair of gleaming red eyes. There's another pair of footsteps behind me now, chasing me. I dare to turn around, and I see Cresh. He has talons instead of fingernails, sharp teeth, scarlet eyes, skin so pale and taut that I can see his jagged bones trying to poke through, and he's hungry. He's growling like a ravenous predator. I barely have time to scream before he pounces and digs his talons into my chest.
When I awake with a start, eyes snapping open and a cold sweat coating my body that isn't torn to shreds, I realize it's dawn. I can see sunlight. It's not the dark, twisted rainforest from my dreams. That doesn't exist, and neither does that horrible monster version of Cresh. The real Cresh is still out there, though, his intentions just as wicked as his nightmare counterpart's, but at least he's human. That I can deal with.
I'm still shivering, adrenaline pouring through my veins, when I notice Cas looking at me, concern written all over his expression. "Are you okay, Dean?" he asks.
Despite everything, I manage a nod. I don't think I am okay, but I'd rather not relay the details of that awful nightmare, and especially not to Cas. Cresh frightens the two of us enough as it is. I don't want to scare him with the idea of the monster version my subconscious mind decided to cook up. I'll just deal with it myself. "Yeah, I'm fine."
For some reason, I don't think he believes me.
By the time we drink up the remaining water in our bottle, I'm starting to feel better. As long as I keep reminding myself that it was only a dream, then I'm able to push the unnerving thoughts of being hunted by that boy from District 1 out of my head. He may still be out there, but I suppose I'm just relying on the fact that someone else will kill him before he finds us. Both of the tributes from District 2 are still alive. Maybe there will be a big Career battle to entertain the Capitol soon.
Speaking of, I haven't heard any cannons since the anthem last night. That means there still haven't been any more deaths. The people of the Capitol will be getting bored, thirsting for bloodshed and violence. As Cas and I pack up to visit the nearby brook and refill our water bottle, I can't help but fear what kind of event the Gamemakers might be plotting to bring some of the tributes together to fight. I can only hope that they'll exclude us from whatever they're planning.
It's not unbearably hot today, much to my relief. Birds sing, insects chirp, lizards scurry across the ground as Cas and I make our way to the brook. I try not to look at the tree roots scattered around, even though they're perfectly normal in reality. The images of their slithering, hissing forms from my nightmare are still fresh in my mind. They were almost as horrifying as monster Cresh. I've started to shake again by the time we find the brook, but I try to hide it as best as I can.
I fill up the water bottle to the brim. Cas squeezes a few droplets of iodine into it. The container is about half empty now. We sit by the edge of the stream and wait for the water to purify, and I just know he's watching me carefully, eyes glimmering with worry. You can't conceal the aftermath of a terrifying nightmare. I'm sure he knows that's why I woke so abruptly, and it probably didn't help that I brushed it off like it was nothing. I wonder if I was making noises, like he did before he jolted awake from his bad dream.
"I'm okay, Cas," I say, shattering the uneasy silence hanging over us. I don't want him to worry about me and my nightmare that wasn't real. He has enough on his plate. "Really, I am."
His nod is so minuscule that I almost miss it. He swallows, drops his gaze to the brook, twiddles his thumbs in his lap. "Okay," he murmurs. "I was just gonna say that you can tell me about it if it's bothering you. I can handle it."
It's impossible to suppress a smile at his reassuring words. He's too nice to me. "Thanks, Cas," I say, knowing full well that I'll keep my horrible dream a secret for the time being. Maybe I'll tell him if we see Cresh's picture in the sky one of these days, if that ever happens.
The water should be purified. I put the bottle in my knapsack, sling it over my shoulders, and lead the way back to the rock overhang. We see another one of those fascinating scarlet and yellow and blue birds flying overhead on the way, but unfortunately, this one doesn't drop us more bananas. Although, a lizard does scuttle across Cas' foot, and it must tickle because he lets out a delighted laugh as the bright green creature disappears into a nearby bush.
My high spirits have almost completely returned when the rock overhang creeps into view. Seeing another one of the brilliant birds, watching that lizard give Cas a burst of joy, and realizing that the rainforest is in fact still normal and not a place of twisted nightmares makes me start to forget my bad dream ever happened in the first place.
Then I hear the scuffling coming from underneath the overhang. A muffled voice, too.
There's someone in our hollow.
I stop dead in my tracks, paralyzing terror surging through me. I shove Cas behind me, hold him back with my arm, draw the switchblade with the other. I knew things were going too well. Something bad was bound to happen sooner or later. I just never expected it to involve another tribute who wants us dead hiding out in our only place of safety.
But when the boy hears us approaching and scrambles out to greet us, I find myself more frightened than I probably should be.
It's not Cresh, his district partner, or any of the others who could kill us without even trying. No, this boy is stick thin, skinnier than both of us combined, and he looks like he hasn't eaten in days. Still, that doesn't stop his dark eyes from glinting like a wild animal's. His movements are twitchy and jittery. A terrifying grin stretches from ear to ear as he rises to his feet and notices us standing there, staring at him. He looks feral, rabid even, and that alone is enough to make me fear him more than the Careers.
"Hello!" he exclaims, voice strangled and strained. He hardly sounds human anymore. "Have you come to visit me?"
He's insane. He's lost his mind. The blood roars in my ears, heart pounds out of my chest as he takes a staggering step toward us. I step back, moving Cas along with me, holding up the switchblade with a trembling hand.
My stomach plunges to my feet when the boy's oddly gleeful expression transforms into one of horrifying sadness. "Why are you backing away?" he asks. "You're not scared of me, are you? I thought we were friends!"
He advances again, little by little. Cas grabs my arm, his grip deathlike. This tribute could pounce at any moment. He's not stable. Something's wrong with him. Something happened to him, and now he's dangerous.
I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it's far too constricted. "Just stay back," I warn. I hope he doesn't notice the tremor in my voice. He might view it as a weakness and attack. "I don't want to hurt you."
I freeze when the boy lets out a hysterical cackle. "Friends don't hurt each other, silly!" he cries. "Why would you want to hurt me?"
Another step. Unbridled panic consumes me. I can barely breathe. My chest burns. Cas tightens his grip on my arm. I'm going to have to kill this boy, aren't I? If he doesn't leave us alone, or if he lunges, I'm finally going to be forced to use this switchblade. The mere thought of it makes my insides twist and churn. But keeping Cas safe is my number one priority. I can't let this deranged tribute ruin that.
"Stay back," I warn again, more determined this time. "Don't make me do this. Just walk away. No one has to get hurt here."
The boy doesn't seem to hear me at all. Another chilling cackle bubbles up from his throat. He twitches, lets his unhinged grin return. "I love you guys!" he shrieks. He opens his arms out wide and steps toward us. "Come here!"
What happens next goes by so fast that the terror coursing through me almost makes me miss it. All three of us scream some kind of exclamation. The boy screeches with crazed delight as he advances. I shout at him to stay away, pointing the blade at his chest. Cas lets out an alarmed cry. Then the boy collapses to the ground at our feet. He spasms and convulses, frothing at the mouth. I barely hear Cas cry out again over the shrill ringing in my ears. The boy goes still not five seconds later. The sound of the cannon echoes through the agonizingly silent air.
I think Cas buries his face in my shoulder. I'm not sure. All I can focus on is the boy lying dead at our feet. Inches away. Alive mere moments ago, and now dead, lifeless eyes wide open and mouth glistening with froth. We watched him die. We watched it all unfold, right in front of us and in a matter of seconds, and I don't think we'll ever be able to unsee what just happened to this poor boy.
When I make my return to reality, I feel bile stinging my throat. It's difficult to swallow to keep it down. My knees are unsteady. I notice a small knapsack on the boy's back. As much as it sickens me to get close to him, we need that bag more than he does. He has no use for it anymore, anyway.
Taking even the tiniest of breaths hurts. I gently nudge Cas away from my arm, crouch down at the unmoving tribute's side, slide the knapsack off his shoulders. I know Cas probably won't want to carry the dead boy's bag. I don't, either, but one glance at my district partner's horrified, nauseated face is enough of a deciding factor. I shrug off the knapsack I grabbed when the Games first began and hold it out to him. He doesn't even seem to realize I'm standing here.
"Cas," I say softly. I barely recognize my own wavering voice. I shake the knapsack, reach out to rub his arm to snap him out of his paralyzed trance. "Cas, can you take this? Please?"
It takes him a moment to register my words. Then his terrified bright blue eyes look up to meet mine. I can see the trauma hiding behind them, can feel just how upset and disturbed and shocked he is, and it only adds to my growing agony. Still, he takes the knapsack from me with shaking hands and carries it on his back. With the fallen tribute's knapsack on mine, I grab Cas' hand and lead him away from the scene, the rock overhang that once provided us so much security. I don't feel safe here anymore. We need to move on and find something else. If that boy managed to discover our hideout, then others are sure to follow in time.
We keep walking until we've put a comfortable amount of distance between us and what happened at the hollow. When we stop to rest, I don't hesitate to pull a shivering Cas into my arms. I hold him close, gently cradle the back of his neck, let go of a trembling exhale as he squeezes me like his life depends on it. We narrowly avoided a catastrophe. No matter how horrifying that situation was, at least we're both still okay.
I sit down against a tree to go through the contents of the boy's knapsack. There isn't much. Some wire and string that we could possibly use to set up a snare, provided we remember how to do it. More packaged jerky strips. No iodine or a water bottle, but there is a plastic bag full of a bizarre yellow fruit. They look like berries of some sort. I hold it out to Cas to see if he recognizes it; when his face goes pale, I know it can't be good.
"Those are really poisonous," he murmurs. "They target your nervous system and cause hallucinations. That must be what happened to..." He trails off, his words getting caught in his throat. He doesn't need to finish. I know exactly what he means.
I ball up the bag of poisonous berries and fling it as far as I can.
We continue our search for a new hideout. An ideal tree like the one I first found Cas in, another hollow, an actual cave, anything. But as midday bleeds into afternoon, and afternoon bleeds into early evening, we still have nothing. By the time darkness starts to creep into the rainforest, we know we need to find a place for the night, regardless of its condition. We manage to find a decent tree with sturdy branches a few yards off the ground. That'll be enough for tonight.
I'm hit with flashbacks of the first night I spent with Cas in the arena as the two of us climb up onto the branches and try our best to settle in. It feels so long ago that I met up with him, even though it's only been a few days. And, judging by the glint in his eyes when he glances at me, I can tell he must be thinking the same thing.
We sip on our water. We eat a few crackers, a strip of jerky, some more bread and cashews. It's difficult to find topics to discuss as we fuel up. Every time I blink, I see the face of that boy who ate those poisonous berries and succumbed to madness. I see his body crashing to the ground and convulsing. I see the froth bubbling in his mouth. I can't stop picturing him, what happened to him, and I don't even know who he was.
Another cannon fires just minutes before the canopy lights up with the blue seal of the Capitol. Tonight, the sky shows one of the boys from District 8. Only four complete pairs left. Then the face of the boy we watched die flashes up above. My stomach churns. Cas tears his gaze away from the canopy. He was the other boy from District 12, by the looks of it, and now his district is out of the Games, too. He lasted a while without his partner, though, who died during the very first day. I'll give him that. He just must not have been able to cope with the hunger any longer.
Ten tributes remain. Four pairs are still intact. Districts 1, 2, 9, and 10. One boy from 7 and 8. It only gets more perilous and challenging from here on out. This is where the betting goes crazy. This is where the people of the Capitol really get invested in the remaining tributes. This is where we have to be ready to handle the worst of the worst, and I'm not entirely sure if I am.
I'm not surprised when Cas tells me he'll take the first watch. After our unpleasant encounter with that boy from 12, I don't know if I'll be able to sleep, either, but I know I need to try. I muster up the most reassuring smile I can, tell him to wake me if anything happens—like usual—and lean back against the trunk. I just catch a glimpse of another one of those dark gray monkeys jumping around from tree to tree before I force my eyes closed and slip into an unrestful slumber.
I have no idea what time it is when Cas shakes my arm, but it's still pitch black out. I expect to see him as content as he can be and ready for sleep, but instead, he looks afraid, and he hasn't let go of my arm.
I don't even have to ask. I notice the bright orange glow of the campfire just a couple hundred yards to our left in an instant.
Panic overwhelms me. My heart almost leaps out of my aching chest. That might as well be a gleaming beacon in the middle of the night, signaling our location to anyone in the vicinity. Whoever it is, whether it's one of the Career pairs or one of the boys from 7 or 8, that fire is dangerous, and we're far too close to it for comfort. We might be found up in this tree. I can't have that. Not when we've made it this far.
As quietly as I can, I slide off the branch and land on the ground below. I hold up my hands to grab Cas' and soften his descent. The fire is still blazing behind us, smoke trailing up into the muggy air. Before anyone has a chance to follow the signal it's giving off and find us, too, Cas and I hasten through the foliage in the opposite direction, into the darkness of the rainforest.
I keep a tight grip on his hand as we blindly stumble through the shrubbery. I haven't traveled the forest at night since my search for him. I forgot just how unnerving, how terrifying it is to wander around a hazardous, unknown place like this in the dark. Anything could be lurking in the shadows. I try to shake off the shiver that's running down my spine as I intertwine our fingers and continue forward.
I only halt when we reach a small clearing, like the one we found when we met the brightly-colored bird. I dare to let go of Cas' hand so I can take a closer look at our surroundings, maybe figure out where we should go next. Everything is so similar and identical that it's almost impossible to get our bearings. Finding another hollow or cave would be ideal, but I haven't seen any since the rock overhang, and we're too far away to return now. We might just have to settle for another tree, even though I'd much rather prefer the cover of a rocky cave.
If only that boy from 12 hadn't found our hollow. We could still be there, in hiding, waiting for the other tributes to take care of one another so we wouldn't have to fight. Now I'm starting to fear that that may have been one of the only hollows in the arena, and we'll have to make do with the poor choices of shelter that remain.
I'm just turning my head to ask for Cas' opinion when I hear the scream. When I hear him scream.
My blood chills to ice, heart stops beating. I whirl around and bolt to him right as he staggers backwards. I seize his trembling arms before he can fall. He doesn't look injured, but his face is twisted into a grimace. His breaths are shallow and frantic and labored. He's not standing up straight. He's leaning to one side. I'm the only thing keeping him from collapsing. Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.
Then I hear the hissing disappearing into the distance. This time it isn't coming from the tree roots.
Two ghastly fang marks have broken through the skin on Cas' leg.