Survival of the Fittest - Clato fanfic (Alternate ending to NTI)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Cato's POV

It was barely into the afternoon when Clove and I split up, but the sun has already begun to sink down towards the horizon. It can't be past three o'clock. I guess they can't wait much longer for the grand finale – and watching two tributes stalk off into the woods in separate directions can't be much fun to watch.

As I chop through the underbrush, it occurs to me that this may be the last chance I have to get water, and so I begin to make my way back towards the river that seems to divide the forest in half. The sky continues to darken and I begin to feel a slight anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Without knowing why, I quicken my pace and am incredibly eager to reach the river.

My throat feels dryer and dryer as time passes, and eventually the thirst is all I can pay any attention to. I need water.

A low growl of frustration escapes my lips as I feel my stomach knot again. This is exactly what I've taught myself not to do. Panic of any kind just leads to stupid mistakes. It's just water, I remind myself, and force my legs to a steady walk.

Darkness has completely fallen over the arena now, but a full moon's light filters through the leaves of the canopy above me. I'm not far from the river. Maybe a quarter of a mile. Scanning the area around me as I walk, I begin to wonder what kind of finale the Gamemakers have in mind. I've been fixated on the idea of Muttations, but it could be any number of things. A violent storm that leads to flooding. Another rampant fire. A tornado. An earthquake. Acid rain. Anything that they think will bring us to our knees and make us regret not killing each other.

My thoughts are broken off as I reach the area I know to be the river. But there's no water. I look down at my feet, planted on hard, cracked, compact earth, and I know this is the river bank. But where is the water?

Stupid question. It's gone. “Damn,” I hiss, beginning a journey down stream. But I know it's hopeless. No matter how long I follow the dried up bed, I'm not going to find a drop of water. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I cross out flooding as an option for the grand finale. Why dry up all the water just to dump bucket-loads of it back down on us? Drying up the river only increases the time it would take for the flooding to occur. Acid rain is still an option, of course.

I kneel low to the ground, dragging my fingers through the earth, hoping for some sign of liquid. Nothing. Even the small plants my fingers find feel dry and shriveled, as if there hasn't been any water here in weeks. A low sigh escapes my lips and I scan the area in despair. Still in a squatting position, I try to figure out what the hell it is I'm supposed to do next. Just wait for the big finish to start? Or go find shelter? Shelter seems like a bad idea, since I could just end up being cornered. But being out in the open doesn't seem-

A loud snapping sound to my right breaks my meditation and my head snaps over to face the direction of the noise. Muttations? Or a harmless rabbit? My hand goes to my sword and I try to keep from making any sudden movements. If that is actually a rabbit, I'll probably die of shock.

My eyes dart back and forth along the line of trees, carefully surveying them for any other signs of life. There's something out there. Waiting for me to make another move. I can feel it. Almost as if its breathing down my neck rather than lurking in the shadows before me. I resist the urge to turn around.

I stand like this for what seems like an eternity, and nothing happens. The silence presses down on me like a heavy weight, and nothing breaks the stillness. I'm beginning to wonder if I should just go ahead and move on when my eyes meet two shining, blue orbs. My heart leaps up to my throat, but I don't respond with my body. Those eyes are human.