Final Reality (THG Fanfic)

Chapter XVII

When it’s around half past four, the jabberjays up and alive to bring someone else into insanity, I decide to tell them about the clock, but I cease to mention the mockingjay on my pocket watch. It takes some convincing, but as Cathal and Zara add their own share of knowledge, the theory could be easily proven. To make sure, Cathal suggests we go to the cornucopia so we can survey the arena. I feel there is no harm in doing so, and we set out for one of the rocky spokes. I really should give credit to Bleeker for pointing out the signal for midnight and midday, which led to the whole clock theory, but these guys don’t have to know. The rest of Panem already knows, though. We travel in a single file line with Zara in the lead and me at the rear with Primrose and Pommel. It reminds me of being with the careers on the first night. Seeing as Primrose is without a weapon, I offer her my bow and arrows, reassuring her I’m fine with just my knives. She seems better than she did a couple of hours ago, but she’s not completely sane again. The games change you, I remind myself.

Up ahead, I notice Zara happily swinging her spool of wire by her side. I ask Primrose what kind of weapon it is. “Oh, it’s not a weapon,” she says, tilting her head. “I’m not quite sure what she’s planning to use it for, but she and your district partner insisted it would help.”

“Maybe with snares?” I suggest, but for me, it’s easy to insinuate what they’re going to use it for: to obliterate the force field. My question is how? They have no way of acquiring electricity. Well, unless we all get together and create static electricity by rubbing our nylon boots together.

Back at the cornucopia, the mound of weapons is still there, the metal blades are still glinting in the sunshine as they were more than twenty-four hours ago. We’re not really in the need for weapons but some of us swap with the ones idly bathing in the sun. Jaeda wedges her machete into her belt as she grabs a black and silver trident for herself, while Quent rummages for more axes. I find a slingshot for Zara, who only has her wire. “You cut away half your jumpsuit and still leave the belt?” Zara says, or asks, I’m not sure. She says it in quite a condescending manner, but I don’t respond harshly. “Well, I guess that’s quite clever,” she nods, patting her own belt, “Considering these belts are flotation devices.”

“Oh, so is that why I was able to swim more swiftly?” I ask her, now intrigued with my belt. Zara nods and quickly turns her attention to what Pommel is scribbling in the sand with his sword. Pommel has drawn the arena; a small circle in the middle, representing the island we’re on right now; two bigger circles for the beach and tree line; and then one large circle to indicate the edge of the arena. He then slices his drawing into twelve wedges, and adds lightning, blood rain, fog, jabberjays, beast, wave, and insects to their corresponding wedge. Cathal adds in monkeys in the three to four wedge, while Jaeda contributes and adds snakes into the nine to ten wedge.

“Snakes?” Pommel and I ask her.

“Yeah, I heard them slithering around.” She looks at me for a second, “I thought you heard them, too.” I shake my head. I must have been too focused with the threat of dehydration hanging over our heads during that time, and Pommel was happily napping. I shrug it off and turn my attention back to the drawing.

“What time is it now?” Quent asks.

I check my pocket watch. “Almost six,” I answer as we notice the sky beginning to fade into a dark orange hue. There are only three unknown wedges left, but I don’t think it’s much of a threat now that we know more about our surroundings. I see Zara fiddling with her wire while Cathal whispers something into her ear. It seems to be a pretty intense conversation as I notice Cathal’s eyebrows knot together and Zara’s constant nodding of her head. Jaeda, Quent and Pommel have their backs to the beach and are sharing jokes about Ayano and Deven.

I set my eyes on Jaeda, and I wonder how she’s feeling sitting next to Quent. She seems ever so casual as usual, but knowing how she killed Rion, it’s sort of hard to ignore the emotion in her eyes. I wonder how she’s going to break the news to Quent, or if she’s even going to mention it. I look at Quent and wonder if he was fazed by Rion’s face in the sky. They were a team, almost siblings, and I wonder how can he keep up the act. Jaeda catches me staring at them, and she shakes her head. She’s not going to tell him, and neither am I. Primrose and I sit against the wall of the cornucopia, breathing in the smell of salt and metal. Primrose’s hair is in a French plait just as she had it in training, and she looks older and more mature in her jumpsuit. Her eyes are puffy and red and her arms are scratched and peeling.

“What’s with your arms?” I ask her, tentatively poking her preciously pale arm.

She stared at me for a while, her eyes no longer wide, but puffy and full of exhaustion. “Fog, monkeys, and then the jabberjays,” she says, scratching her arm.

“All in one go?”

“One after another,” she corrects. “The fog blistered us, then we were attacked by monkeys. It was safe just for a little while after that, but then came the jabberjays.” She sighs tiredly and rests her head on my shoulder, which is when I realize Primrose hardly blinks. Her eyes are droopy, but they blink abnormally. Perhaps whenever she closes her eyes, a nightmarish image haunts her. Suddenly, she sits up, startling me a bit. “Did you hear that?” she says to me quietly. The others don’t seem to notice as they continue with their conversations, but above it all, I can hear footsteps through the wall of the cornucopia.

When I see Deven whip around the corner with his trident, everything happens in slow motion. Primrose arms her bow and pulls back the string. Cathal screams something inaudible; a warning cry maybe. I try to fumble for the knives in my waist as I watch Deven’s trident enter Jaeda’s back.