18 DAYS

Chapter 9: The Boy from 12.

There is someone calling his name somewhere. Like an echo, it's close and far at the same time.

"Cato? Are you hungry?"

Finally he looks up and sees Glimmer bend over trying to catch his attention. Like waking up from a long dream, he glances around trying to grasp what could be happening. Presently, he is sat on a crate with an empty plate in his hand. He feels fine, not wounded. Groggy maybe. Around him, the cornucopia is full to the brim with provisions and weapons. Considering how many are placed at his feet, he must have helped gather them. Farther out in the clearing, patches of red are spread across the grass all the way to the edge of the forest. No bodies. They must have already been removed by the hovercraft. How did he miss that?

He looks up at Glimmer again, and at the rest of his team. They are all eating, generally okay. Cuts and bruises, but everyone he told his mentors wanting on his team is there. Except...

"Who died?", Cato asks the blond girl with a frown.

A hand pushes past his right shoulder to drop meatloaf in his plate. His favorite.

"Marvel killed the girl from 7 and the boy from 8. And Glimmer took care of the tribute girl from 6 and boy from 5. You, well, I think you got male tributes from 6 and 4. Me the guy from 9. Missed 12 by an inch unfortunately."

Clove sits down in front of him and it's like she is directly breathing air into his lungs. She smiles crooked at him, not fully successfull in hiding her worry for him.

"Some of us took district Four together, female, before she ran into the woods. Others than that we found: three girls from Ten, Three and Nine, plus the dude from Seven. Snapped neck that one. Pretty sure we can thank Thresh for it."

A deep sight of relief blow past his lips, his entire body relaxes muscle by muscle. Like pure oxygen had been pumped into them, and the grey fog had lifted to reveal colours he never knew could be that intense. She is here, he is here. They are fine. Where had he been until now? It'd been hours since the massacre had finished and they'd been fine this whole time. So, what the hell?

"So 12 in total, gone and left. Us, Peeta, Katniss, Tresh, boy from Ten and girls from Eleven , Eight and Five." 

They all remain silent for a moment, pondering the knowledge that one of them is already halfway home. 

"Should we continue?", Marvel throws out. "I feel fine, the camp is set. Three can take first watch while we head out. "

With a piece of meatloaf shoved in his mouth, Cato realizes everyone is looking at him for an answer. When his eyes fall on Clove, she gives him a slight nod.

He coughs and gets up: "Sure. The first night is always the best for hunting. They'll be hungry, scared, cold. Easy to snuff out." The boy leader put his plate down and grabs a bag along with his sword. "We'll be back by dawn."

On that word, they all gear up and head out the forest. No time to loose. In the Hunger Games, you play or you die.

*

For a while the careers ran out of luck. If luck could be defined as finding teenagers to butcher. None of the tributes came from a wooded district, making it pretty hard for them to find their way using the signs in the leafs and on the grass. To make things even harder, night had quickly fallen rendering the density of the forest into an indisernable blob. Meaning they had to light torches using the matches found in their bagpacks. Usefull considering none of them were worth a damn at basic survival. Terrain was againts them, but thankfully careers were always the biggest pack in the Games. Turning into a fool anyone who would dare to challenge them. That way they could be as loud and spotable as they wanted to be.