Peeta
(Four) In the Long Run
As the day comes to an end, I see Clove counting the deaths in the sky. “Eleven dead,” she says cheerily. “Just twelve more to go.”
She eyes us, a smirk stretched across her face. It seems odd to me that she would mention this to her current allies, but the others smirk as well. I try to follow suit.
Together, we pile the remaining supplies by the base of the river. Hovercrafts come and take the bodies away, and we start to heal our wounds with the few first aid kits on hand. I apply a gob of medicine to the gashes on my arm and neck, then bandage them both. The other Careers are repairing their own wounds as well.
I use my switchblade to hack the ropes and rip the packaging off some of the bigger supplies. Most of the Careers seem neither irritated nor happy that I have become one of them. Clove still eyes me suspiciously – she has been this entire time – while she continues rubbing that blade along her mouth.
We set up camp, and I gather some brush to start a fire. We gather a few armfuls of supplies and cook a meal for ourselves.
“We need to start hunting,” demands Cato as we feast.
“What about our supplies?” asks Glimmer, the girl from District 1. “Shouldn’t someone guard them?”
“You can,” laughs Clove. “We need to start taking the other tributes out A-S-A-P.”
I sit there, eating in silence. I think of ways to go out on the hunt with them. I have to go at all costs – I’m sure I can find a way to lead them in the opposite direction of Katniss.
The fire runs low, so I go out for more brush, looking out into the woods. “Katniss,” I whisper. “I’ll keep them away from you, don’t worry.” I know she can’t hear me, but the sponsors can. Hopefully, they’ll realize I’m not doing this for myself, but instead for her. Maybe it’ll help her out in the long run.
I get back to the camp with my arms loaded with brush. By this time, though, everyone is checking their supplies, grabbing weapons, and preparing for the hunt. Glimmer ended up staying behind to guard, though I’m not sure if it was completely unanimous.
“So, Lover Boy,” Clove snarls. Well, I guess I earned that nickname. “Where’s your girlfriend hiding?”
I grab myself a spear and push the switchblade into my pocket. “She’s not my-” I start, but I ultimately decide not to go down that line of conversation. “In the woods,” I decide to say. It’s not a lie, but I don’t think this information can harm her.
We start in a group, marching through the trees. We have some supplies on our backs: water, a snack, and extra clothes for warmth. I grab a flashlight, too. Marvel, the boy from District 1, has a torch on hand. He lights it as we trudge deep into the woods. It's very dark, and I can barely see my feet below me. Clove and Cato seem to be the leaders of this bunch. It's not that surprising, considering Cato's size and Clove's demanding personality.
We march on for several hours, and few words are exchanged. We only stop briefly for a sip of water and a snack, then continue, pursuing the other tributes.
She eyes us, a smirk stretched across her face. It seems odd to me that she would mention this to her current allies, but the others smirk as well. I try to follow suit.
Together, we pile the remaining supplies by the base of the river. Hovercrafts come and take the bodies away, and we start to heal our wounds with the few first aid kits on hand. I apply a gob of medicine to the gashes on my arm and neck, then bandage them both. The other Careers are repairing their own wounds as well.
I use my switchblade to hack the ropes and rip the packaging off some of the bigger supplies. Most of the Careers seem neither irritated nor happy that I have become one of them. Clove still eyes me suspiciously – she has been this entire time – while she continues rubbing that blade along her mouth.
We set up camp, and I gather some brush to start a fire. We gather a few armfuls of supplies and cook a meal for ourselves.
“We need to start hunting,” demands Cato as we feast.
“What about our supplies?” asks Glimmer, the girl from District 1. “Shouldn’t someone guard them?”
“You can,” laughs Clove. “We need to start taking the other tributes out A-S-A-P.”
I sit there, eating in silence. I think of ways to go out on the hunt with them. I have to go at all costs – I’m sure I can find a way to lead them in the opposite direction of Katniss.
The fire runs low, so I go out for more brush, looking out into the woods. “Katniss,” I whisper. “I’ll keep them away from you, don’t worry.” I know she can’t hear me, but the sponsors can. Hopefully, they’ll realize I’m not doing this for myself, but instead for her. Maybe it’ll help her out in the long run.
I get back to the camp with my arms loaded with brush. By this time, though, everyone is checking their supplies, grabbing weapons, and preparing for the hunt. Glimmer ended up staying behind to guard, though I’m not sure if it was completely unanimous.
“So, Lover Boy,” Clove snarls. Well, I guess I earned that nickname. “Where’s your girlfriend hiding?”
I grab myself a spear and push the switchblade into my pocket. “She’s not my-” I start, but I ultimately decide not to go down that line of conversation. “In the woods,” I decide to say. It’s not a lie, but I don’t think this information can harm her.
We start in a group, marching through the trees. We have some supplies on our backs: water, a snack, and extra clothes for warmth. I grab a flashlight, too. Marvel, the boy from District 1, has a torch on hand. He lights it as we trudge deep into the woods. It's very dark, and I can barely see my feet below me. Clove and Cato seem to be the leaders of this bunch. It's not that surprising, considering Cato's size and Clove's demanding personality.
We march on for several hours, and few words are exchanged. We only stop briefly for a sip of water and a snack, then continue, pursuing the other tributes.