The Capitol's Tribute

I watched helplessly as the tubes lifted and the tributes descended violently upon each other. I looked on as Brant hurried of into the forest, the opposite way that I told him to. But, his other way was blocked off by axe-wielding careers. The forest was his best bet. If he doubled back, he would meet me at the mountain.

A canon went off and a tribute I couldn’t see clearly enough to know who it was lay crumpled on the floor in a mess of blood. Freddy fought his way out of the newest bloodbath, taking another tribute down with him. He disappeared out of my view for a moment and the next thing I knew, he was running frantically in my direction, towards the mountain.

The mist had passed me so I clamored down as quickly as my pained hands allowed me to.

I heard Freddy’s voice calling to me in a panic and as I looked back down, I could see the career pack ditching the tubes to follow Freddy, to find me. I scrapped off the rest of the skin on my hands and practically jumped down from the last ten feet. Freddy ran by me, grasping my wrist and tugging me along. We kept running and running and running until there was no sign of Malum and his pack.

We stopped and hunched over, dry-heaving. My hands burned with such intensity that tears stung my eyes. With immense difficulty, I ripped of a part of my shirt—leaving a revealing whole—and wrapped it around my wounds. Freddy saw what I was doing and set down his water, helping me tie them off.

“These need ointment.” Freddy decided, making a pained face. “Or else you’re going to get an infection.”

“Ointment this late in the games?” I sighed, falling on top of a fallen tree stump. “Fat chance.”

“You’ve got loads of sponsors, Rixa. I’m sure they can send you something.” Freddy reasoned. “Besides, with that trick you pulled by getting in that tree, I’m sure Snow himself would sponsor you. That was quick thinking, Rix.”

“I saw Bruno. Thought it looked like fun.” I felt dizzy and tired.

“Here,” Freddy said quickly, handing me his bottle. I had lost all my things in the mist. “Drink. You’ll feel better. We need to get back to the tent.”

I took a long, greedy sip. “No, we’ve got to go to the mountain. Brant’s waiting for us there.”

Freddy opened his mouth when a faint tinkling rang through our ears. I squinted up into the bright faux-sunlight and watched as a large, lavender colored parachute the size of a small laundry basket danced towards us. “Told you.” Freddy grinned, catching it as soon as it was within his reach. He opened it quickly as his dark eyes widened. “Oh my, God! Rixa, come look at this!” He cried with overwhelming excitement.

Even in my exhausted state, I pushed myself off the stump and stumbled to Freddy a few feet away.

Oh my, God was right. Inside was not only ointment, but dishes of food, drinks, a small bow and arrow, and a new shirt.

A thankful and somewhat delirious laugh escaped my chapped lips. Freddy looked up at me with those big eyes as if to ask my permission to dig in. “You saved my ass, Freddy. Eat as much as you like.”

Freddy handed me the ointment before pulling out some steaming soup. Carefully, I pulled off the top and took two fingers to swipe out a healthy amount, pressing it tenderly against my left palm and giving a groan of relief. The subsidizing of pain was orgasmic. I did it to the other hand and within moments, they were pain-free. I covered them up with real, clean bandages and moved onto my clothing issue.

I took out the shirt and examined it. It was the plain green one I was currently wearing, just not stained in blood and filth. While Freddy was busy digging in, I slipped my torn shirt off and tossed it aside. The cool sunny air felt amazing on my bear skin but I knew the entire world was watching me get undressed, and somehow that felt more personal than watching me kill someone.

Just as I was about to slip my new shirt on, something on the inside stopped me. I opened the shirt a bit more, revealing tiny scribbles of familiar writing. Peeta’s handwriting.

They’re following you. Stay safe and find Brant. Win, Rix. You’re so close. Love always, Peet

Quickly, I shuffled the shirt over my naked torso and collected Freddy. “Take some out for the road. We’ve got to get a move on.”

He understood, dumping all the traveling food into his backpack and tossing me a new water bottle. “Cheers.” He said. I drank and connected the handle to my belt loop and we were off.

We walked on for a few more hours. It was midday before we stopped and without Peeta sending me anymore clues on the career packs whereabouts, I was at a loss of where they could be. I hadn’t seen or heard any trace of them. Any moment they could come upon us and it would be all over. I kept my hand firmly on my knife, walking backwards occasionally to spot anything out of the ordinary. But there was nothing.

Freddy was exhausted. I could tell by the bags under his eyes and the panting of his breath. I was going to run him in to the ground if we didn’t stop to rest. And I would have lying if I said I wasn’t about to fall over too. But, I had to canvass the area if I wanted to rest. I had to make sure the careers weren’t out there, waiting for us to sleep to attack.

“Let’s take a little break, Freddy.” I told him. Relief clouded his small face as he plopped down on the forest ground.

“Final eight.” He said suddenly, taking a bite of jerky out of his bag. “Who’d have thought we’d make it this far?”

I smiled lightly, brushing back my dull, dirty hair. “Final eight.” I repeated, letting it sink in.

“Do you think they’re interviewing our friends and family right now?” He questioned eagerly.

“I guess,” I shrugged. I didn’t like the thought of them going to District 12 and talking to anyone. Who would they talk to anyway? My catatonic mother? Madge? The twins? It infuriated me to think they could just waltz into my home and get the inside scoop on Rixa and Brant Hart.

Would they talk to Peeta or Finnick or were they off limits because they were mentors. Finnick wasn’t my mentor; he was my fiancé, so he must have to talk to them. But, what would he say? Would he and Haymitch have created this whole, beautiful lie about our tragic love affair to keep the sponsors coming? It didn’t seem worth it anymore.

“Do you think Johanna will say she’s proud of me?” Freddy asked meekly, averting eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t she?” I questioned off-guard. “She’s your sister. You made it to the final eight, just like her. You could win this, Freddy.” I didn’t mean it of course. Brant was the one who had to win. But, if it gave his some ease of mind before his impending death, then so be it.

He looked up, grinning brightly. “Thanks, Rixa.”

I nodded, grabbed the bow and case of arrows from Freddy’s pack. “I’m going to take a look around, make sure it’s safe. Be careful, keep your ears open.”

“I didn’t make it to the final eight for nothing.” Freddy pointed out, smirking a bit. “I think I can handle myself.”

I rolled my eyes and worked the bow for a moment, getting used to its resilience and power. Then, I hitched it over my bare shoulder and took off into the forest outskirts.

It felt quieter and darker without Freddy’s accompaniment. I shoved on through the trees in silence. I wandered for a good fifteen minutes, finding nothing. Maybe the careers had lost us.

I started worrying about Freddy, all alone. My pace picked up the more I panicked about leaving him behind and soon I was full on sprinting.

There was a flash of red and a painful impact and suddenly I was on the ground. I dropped the bow. I looked up, trying to regain the air that had been knocked out of me and was met with the pale face of District 5’s clever tribute, Holland.

She stared up at me in fear. Her light brown eyes were wide as she gawked at me wordlessly. We both scrambled up and I noticed she had no weapon. We were in the final eight, how could she be so stupid? Taking last year’s tribute’s approach didn’t seem too bright considering she was dead.

As I reached for my bow, Holland took off in the direction she was heading before we collided.

I watched Holland scamper away, holding my bow ready at my side. Unsteady breaths flew through my nostrils as the most heinous thought passed through my mind. Everyone was going to have to die at some point for Brant to win. Letting Holland go now wouldn’t help ease her suffering. One tap to the back and it would be over, painless, almost humane compared to what Malum would do to her.

I felt nausea rumble in the pit of my stomach as I raised my bow, setting my sights on Holland’s retreating back. The world was surely watching this. Gale was watching me make my first kill. Peeta was watching me turn into a monster. The Capitol was watching one of their own murder a fifteen year old girl in cold blood. None of this was right.

My eyes fluttered shut. It felt like my heart beat was slowing, like I was the one about to die. Everything in the world seemed to have been put on mute as I aimed my arrow on my victim, the first murder I personally pulled the trigger on. My mouth felt dry and I almost wanted to cry out to Holland, to force her out of my reach so I wouldn’t have to do this.

But, I didn’t do that. I pulled back the arrow and string and released. Time seemed to cease for a moment as the arrow soared effortlessly through the air. Abruptly, it entered Holland’s back and she stumbled forward. The canon echoed before she even reached the ground. It felt sickly ironic that the most accurate I’d been with a bow was when I was murdering an innocent girl from District 5.

I stood in the same spot, looking on at my work. I lamented Holland’s life, wishing that there had been some other way. It was foolish wishful thinking and I had to stop this. I needed to leave, to grab Freddy and find Brant. Only I couldn’t seem to move from the crime scene.

I forced myself to breathe steadily, in through my mouth, out through my nose. My lifeless hair twirled in the wind. The world was peaceful all of the sudden, almost too peaceful. It was the calm before the storm.

Something was wrong. More wrong then the murder I had just committed. I needed to get back to Freddy. I hurried my way through the thick bushels of green, unfazed by the small, piercing cuts attacking my bare leg.

I found myself frozen as a scream shattered the peaceful air. “RIXA!” It begged. “Rixa, help me!”

I knew that cry. It was Freddy.