There's Nothing More Important than Family, chapter 24

When I wake, my neck is quite sore. I realize I’d been sleeping on a root and my head had been lolling backwards unnaturally as I slept. I try to rub the kink out of my neck but it’s no use; my neck is as stiff as ever. Not a great start to the last day in the arena.

I eat as quickly as I can. I stuff myself silly, since I’m not sure when the next chance I’ll get to eat will be. I feel like throwing up, but I manage to keep it down. Throwing up would not help me one bit.

I crawl through the brush, to the clearing where I’d observed the death match between Dane and Kelly. The hovercraft picked up Dane’s body sometime in the night. I am not looking forward to seeing Kelly today. Dane was enormous, and incredibly strong. I thought he was unbeatable, but Kelly took him down anyway. If she took him (a giant, trained mountain of muscle) down, what chance do I have?

Well, I can’t give up yet. I promised Jason and Zania that I’d try. I’ll die honorably, like he did, no doubt. Zania died screaming, I don’t know how honorable that is.
I snicker to myself, but then stop. The memory flooding into my mind is painful. To my surprise, it’s getting harder for me to breathe. I sit on the forest floor anxiously and hide my head in between my legs as I try to regulate my breathing. It’s hard but I manage to do so eventually. I can’t show any kind of weakness at this stage in the Games. I don’t want the Capitol people to pity me. 

I stand up when I’m feeling better, gripping my sword in a defiant sort of way. I storm off in the direction Kelly headed last night. Her wounds were bleeding heavily, so I have another convenient blood trail to follow. There’s discarded hair here and there, and it’s disgusting. I hope Kelly had the sense to wrap up her injuries before the fight. I won’t be able to concentrate on killing her if I have to stare at a bald spot on the back of her head. Erg.

After a while, I reach her camp. I can see the smoke from her camp fire through the trees. I see her sleeping in front of her fire. There are tears on her scarred face. It would be so easy to just put her out of her misery now, without having to fight her at all. She doesn’t deserve that, though. If my sister had to suffer at her hands, than she will suffer at mine. I will be merciless, I have to be.

Anger surges through me as I watch her peaceful face. She doesn’t deserve this serene rest. Furiously, I kick dirt in her face. Particles get stuck in her wounds; I hope it stings. She wakes up snarling, but when she sees me she smiles arrogantly. “So this is it, is it?” she whispers.

I scowl. “For you, it is.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She smiles somewhat sincerely. “I’m confused, though. I was asleep; vulnerable. You spared me. Why? I wouldn’t have done the same for you.”

“I guess I’m just a nice guy.” I growl. She raises her eyebrow. “When I fight you, I want you to be conscious. I want you to feel it when I kill you. I want you to feel it when you breathe your last breath.”

She smiles, and it almost looks genuine. “How…melodramatic. Touching, really. Too bad though. Now you don’t stand a chance.”

“You’re confident.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you?” She beams falsely. “Confidence is key, my dear.” I see her inconspicuously pick up her knife belt. My grip tightens on my sword. I drop my backpack on the ground; either way, I don’t need it anymore. I don’t really want it either. It’s kind of heavy. Kelly studies me. “So I guess it’s time. Let’s dance, partner.”

I roll my eyes and grumble, “Do you want to lead, or shall I?”

She smiles mischievously. “I’ll let you know.” I’m barely ready when she lunges at my throat. I manage to deflect her, but barely. She rolls to the side and snarls at me. She sounds like a retarded bear.

I swing my sword at her and she tries to dodge, but my sword hits her on the chest, right where Dane got her yesterday. She screams and I laugh, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“You MORON!” She shrieks.

“Someone’s a little grumpy this morning!” I taunt. She throws a knife furiously, but I’m not watching. It hits my shoulder, getting lodged in the flesh. I don’t dare pull it out; if I did it would bleed profusely.

I’m not nearly as good as she is when it comes to combat. Sure, I’m tiring her out, but I’m getting tired myself. I’ve managed to slice her up well, but I have a growing list of injuries; a deep stab in my leg, a cut on my cheek and the fact that I’m missing the tip of my middle finger.

Now we stand, staring at each other intensely. He eyes are thick with tears and her bizarre hairdo is matted with blood. When she speaks, her voice is raspy. “It’s over. Surrender now and I’ll make sure it’s quick.”

“I’ll never surrender to you.” I promise her grimly.

“Then I’ll give you the first move. Come at me. Hit me with your best shot, prairie boy.”

I grimace and charge at her. She dodges easily, and attacks my chest. I struggle, so she barely scrapes me, but she’s getting close. Swiftly, I grab the knife from her hand and plunge it into her stomach. She gasps as I throw her off of me.
She’s lying on the ground, face up. The color is draining from her face and her eyes are flashing around the campsite wildly. I glare at her. “Your move.” I say loud and clear, so I know she can hear me. She twitches and I see her trying to talk, but I ignore her. I grab her foot-long machete, and stand over her menacingly. She seems to be pleading with me. No mercy! I remind myself. “Lights OUT!” I cry, and I plunge the sword into her chest. The cannon booms.

I rip the knife from my shoulder, and as I foresaw, the wound starts gushing blood. I hear Claudius Templesmith announce, “Ladies and Gentlemen, let me present to you the victor of the 35^th annual Hunger Games; Nathan Roberts, of District 9!” They play recordings of Capitol people cheering. I wish I could get my hands on them, too. They don’t deserve to be free.

The hovercraft appears and lowers its ladder. The instant I grab it, I am frozen in place. Slowly, I am raised out of the appalling arena.