Game On: Tick Tock

Chapter 5

Into the water I go. Pushing hard through the waves to swim doesn’t count for much. This is torture. It feels like I swim forever before I finally fall onto the beach. I spring up immediately and run inside the Cornucopia. The only weapons I choose are a knife and rope, similar to last time. I’m depending on them to help me as much as they did twenty years ago.

Then, I hear a man scream next to me.

I turn towards the cry that I know so well. The man from District 9 has stabbed Beetee in the back.

“Beetee!”  I’m not the best fighter, but I’ll do anything to save him. Before the man can stab Beetee again, I ram my body into his, pull out my knife and strike it across his stomach. His knife falls on the ground with him. I go to pick it up.

Now, I’ve got to get Beetee out of danger. Using all my strength, I lift him onto my back. 

As I run away, I hear the nauseating sound of a blade cutting through neck. It must be Johanna Mason, of District 7. She’s the only victor I know who liked to decapitate her victims.

We’re almost out of view. But not before a sharp pain cuts my ankle. Somebody’s thrown a blade at me. It doesn’t stick, but a graze hurts just as badly. All I can think about is getting to a safe zone. I end up dragging Beetee when I can’t carry him anymore.  We’re deep in the heart of a mysterious jungle. Who knows what could happen. The Gamemakers are crafty people.

I turn my head in every direction and decide it’s probably okay to rest.

Then I hear the rush of water coming towards us.

Drowning is one of my worst nightmares, ever since I was little, learning to swim in the deep end of a pool.  I’ve been a great runner all my life, but I’ve never ran this fast. Especially not while I’m helping somebody else.  Beetee’s unconscious body plops alongside me. Stay with me, honey, I want to say.  

At some point, the wave dies down. It reaches my legs to push them out from under me, bringing me crashing to the ground. I regain my grip on Beetee and we crawl (or, I crawl) to safety. I find two giant trees to hide between. Somewhere along the way, eight cannons go off.

Now for the big question: Is Beetee still alive? My eyes start to water with the thought. I move my ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. It’s so faint I can barely hear it. In this condition, he might not last long. I’m no nurse, either. Now I wish I’d learned any bit of first aid that could help him. I look for giant tree leaves. They might have some healing medicine inside them. They’re my best bet. After cutting it to test for poison, I throw one onto Beetee’s back and press on his wound.  

“Aahh,” he grunts.

“Sorry!” Every ten minutes, I check on his wound. It’s not closing up, but the swelling has gone down, and it’s not as raw as it used to be. The leaves must be a disinfectant. His heart’s picking up speed again. Thank goodness.  

Then, after about an hour, a sound reaches my ears…  Click. Click. Click.

It’s coming from the tops of the trees. I look up to see hordes of beetles, pouring down the tree towards us. The beetles are an ugly green, massive; and they’re guaranteed to be poisonous.

“Beetee,” I say, pushing him to wake up. I prop him against me as we head in a new direction. The mutt beetles keep following us, like an army of death. One bite could probably kill me.  It’s too dangerous to look back or stop. One of the beetles begins walking up my leg, and I shake it off frantically. I have to hope it’ll end sometime. And it does, rather abruptly. The beetles halt when we reach a certain point. There must be some kind of forcefield holding them back. I collapse with Beetee onto the ground, relieved. 

Beetee falls back asleep. Good. He needs it to help his body heal. I can watch for intruders on my own. A few animals cross our path, but they’re completely harmless. It reminds me that eventually I have to hunt for food. The Capitol didn’t provide us with bags, so this will probably be a very short edition of the Games.

An hour passes.

Then the lightning strikes. I know how well the trees carry an electric charge when they’re struck. We need to go to the beach, where it won’t hit.

Beetee and I trudge to a stretch of sand about twenty yards from the nearest tree. This is where we’ll stay for now. If there’s anything I learned in my first Games, it was to never stay in one place for too long. That tactic probably saved my life more than a couple times.  

The lightning goes on until it suddenly comes to a halt. I think the Gamemakers have some kind of pattern going. If only I could figure it out…

Even though I want to move, my ankle injury’s had about enough. And forget about Beetee walking. I lead him to a nearby tree on the edge of the beach. It can work as a shield, because victors who pass by will only see one side of it, so long as we stay silent. I kneel down next to him. The hours seem to float past, without any danger. I manage to catch some fish from the water. I have to shove it into Beetee’s mouth while he sleeps. Over a little fire, they don’t taste too bad.

There’s been at least one death since the bloodbath.  As it gets dark, I nestle against Beetee.

“Wires.”

He wraps one arm around my waist. Finally, he’s responding again. I tilt my head toward his, and our lips find one another’s easily.  They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. One is not complete without the other.

I’m nearly asleep when ten bells ring. Not cannons. Bells. I don’t know what they’re supposed to be for. To my left, I hear… another set of tidal waves. We’re not out of the clear. The obstacles are repeating themselves, like… like…

I stare down at the watch on Beetee’s wrist, his district token.

Like the hands on a clock!

“Tick tock,” I whisper.