Final Reality (THG Fanfic)

Chapter XVI

With the exception of the lightning storm happening just a mere five hundred metres away from us, we eat our meal in peace. We don’t bother saving some for later. Partly because there are more possum-ferrets out there, and partly because Jaeda silently insists kicking Bleeker out of the group. After we’ve thrown away the remains of the meal, we all agree on having a rest. I decide to take watch because I still can’t seem to find sleep. It evades me. No one argues as they each nestle into a hammock. I sit against a tree in the middle of our campsite, and continue playing with my token. The outside of my pocket watch is no longer a shiny gold. It’s been scratched in places and the golden sheen has been washed out, probably by the wave. Miraculously, it still continues to tick. Most likely an invention of those in District 3, I remind myself. I take note to ask Zara about the next time I see her, well that is if I see her.

I let my mind go back to where it was half an hour ago, when I was speaking with Bleeker. He said that those twelve bongs signalled midday, and they probably signalled midnight as well. Twelve bongs, midnight. Hours later, twelve more bongs signalling midday. Then there’s the lightning immediately after the bell, which lasts for about an hour. An image of the wheel at the cornucopia swims into my head. No. Not a wheel, in fact, it’s a clock! Twelve spokes, twelve wedges, twelve hours. Midnight, lightning, and then some time around eight there’s some sort of beast. Then there’s the wave two hours later, the crickets and beetles comes after. Twelve bongs, midday and the lightning repeats. Each hour, a new horror arises. I whip my head back so I can look at the sky. I can just imagine the hands of the clock ticking away. Water is no longer my biggest concern now; it is what lies in the wedge we dwell in at this moment. I turn my attention back to my pocket watch and click it open. If this theory is right, in two minutes the lightning should stop. I don’t know what happens next, but I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. One minute left. I keep my eyes on my pocket watch, and a drop of my sweat lands on the face. I quickly wipe it away with a swift movement of my thumb. Then something odd appears on my miniature clock. It’s the gold mockingjay Katniss Everdeen wears all the time; the symbol of rebellion, I realize. That’s when the lightning stops, and the first drop of blood hits my token.

Blood pours from the sky hot and heavy, and I can barely see. I manage to throw the other three off their hammocks to rouse them. “Run to the beach! The beach!” I yell at them. Just as I turn to run down the hill, I hear an explosion behind me then the sound of the cannon. Someone must have run into the force field. I don’t stop to help; instead I focus on saving myself. I contemplate calling their names to check who is left of us, but I notice every time you open your mouth, it’s very difficult to not get hot blood slithering down your throat. Blindly, we all run for the beach, for safety. I’m not sure whether the blood rain stays within the confines of the jungle; the wave didn’t, so I can only hope for the salvation of the beach. Since we had trekked quite far up the slope, it takes us a while to get to the beach. But even so, before I know it I’m running on damp sand and right into the salt water. I don’t bother washing all the blood off; I just wash my throat out and head back to where two bloody figures are struggling for air. Bleeker must have been the one to run the wrong way, and Jaeda seems happy about it when she notices.

Jaeda angrily strides her way to the edge of the water, splashing her face and clearing her throat. She kicks her head back to face the sky. “FUCK YOU, PLUTARCH HEAVENSBEE!” she barks at the sky. “FUCK YOU AND YOUR WAVE AND YOUR BLOOD RAIN AND YOUR FUCKING LACK OF FRESH WATER!” I can’t help but laugh. I laugh so hard my sides begin to hurt. Behind me, I hear Pommel chuckling whilst coughing up blood. I guide him to the water and help him clean the blood from his face.

“Wren!” I hear someone call for me, a familiar voice. I whip my head around to my left and see Cathal running towards me. His wetsuit is perforated in places but his hair is as scruffy as the last time I saw him.