Chapter Eleven
At dawn the next day, Clark was sitting in front of the cave, keeping watch while Lois slept inside. The night had been largely uneventful except for the angry shouts of the Career pack, who had treed another tribute but had been unable to catch them. The angry, frustrated shouts of the Careers had reminded Clark of nothing so much as a pack of dogs who had treed a cat, only to discover that they couldn’t get it to come down. When the treed tribute had done something to make the Careers scream and curse in disgust, Clark’s imagination had filled in the blanks. He had laughed, his hand over his mouth to keep from making a sound. He could never have explained to Lois that he could hear something happening clear across the arena.
Though Lois had kept watch first, Clark had not slept at all the night before. Now that his extraordinary abilities were back, he feared that he might float if he fell asleep, and there was no way to secure himself in the cave, so instead, he had lain awake, turned away from the single camera in the cave so that no one would see that his eyes were open, and he had listened. When Lois had grown sleepy, he’d taken her place, watching the strange star patterns projected by the Capitol hovercraft and listening to the night sounds.
No tributes had died in the past day. The projection screen had shown the two tributes who had died on the second night in the arena, the girl from District 4 and the boy from District 5. The Career pack was half its original size, and there were only ten tributes left in total. Those ten were the cagiest, and Capitol was now looking forward to what was, for them, the most exciting part of the Games.
The camaraderie that had been growing between Lois and Clark had largely vanished, leaving them both quiet and uneasy. Clark had found himself scanning the arena for any sign of Kryptonite, not so much because of fear for his own life this time, but because he knew that without it Lois had no chance. They worked well together, fought well together — and might wind up being the last tributes alive. If so, Lois had no chance against him — without Kryptonite, he couldn’t be killed, at least not easily. Clark supposed that if he went long enough without food, water, and rest, he might die, but he wasn’t sure about that, and it would take him considerably longer to die from starvation, dehydration, or exhaustion than it would take Lois.
If there was Kryptonite available, Lois would stand a better chance against him. With Clark weakened by the radiation, she would have a fair chance of winning that last fight — or of simply outlasting him.
Clark didn’t think that he would be able to bring himself to fight her to the death, though, no matter how evenly matched they might become. If it came to that, he would put up enough of a struggle to make it look real, in order to protect his family and friends, but he would let Lois win — if she was willing to fight him. Lois wasn’t a killer, and she would undoubtedly feel even worse about killing him than she had Platinum.
It might not come to that, though. If one of the other tributes found a piece of Kryptonite and Clark was exposed to it, he could be taken out as easily as anyone else, and although Clark was determined to protect Lois, it was entirely possible that someone would get to her before he could stop them, or an animal could attack her, or she would get sick or injured. There were so many things he just couldn’t prevent, no matter how much he wished he could.
Clark was somewhat surprised at the discovery that he would be willing to sacrifice his life to save someone else’s. He had always cared about others, and had done what he could to help them, but there had never been any real risk to himself. Now he was in a situation where only one person could survive, and though Clark didn’t want to die, he had come to realize that he would give up his life for the sake of someone he cared about. It came as a startling revelation that even after this short a time he felt that way about Lois.
Thus far, however, he hadn’t seen or felt any sign of Kryptonite. Platinum’s pendant was the only piece he had seen in the arena, and it was gone, taken from the arena with her body. Clark intended to keep looking, just in case, because if it came down to him and Lois and he was at full strength, there was no way she could defeat him, and the Capitol would not allow the Games to go on indefinitely. If it came down to the two of them, and they refused to fight, the Gamemakers would force the issue, and there was no telling what the consequences would be.
*****
The fourth day in the arena was quiet. No cannons sounded, in spite of the efforts of the Careers to hunt down their competitors. Of the ten tributes remaining, five were scattered alone throughout the arena, hiding as best they could and trying to find food and safe water.
The boy from District 7 had found a place to hide beside a spring, but the water had turned out to be bad; the resulting sickness was slowly killing him. The girl from District 6 had paid little attention to the edible plants and insects stations, and had been unsuccessful at hunting and fishing. She had been unhealthily thin to begin with, like many tributes, and was now on the verge of starvation.
The other three solitary tributes were doing better, as were the Career pack and Lois and Clark, but all of them were uneasy. When things grew quiet in the arena, the Gamemakers liked to liven things up by springing traps, usually consisting of muttations or unnatural disasters. Not even the most arrogant of the Career tributes wanted to face an arena trap.
The fifth day began with two booms from the cannon about fifteen minutes apart. The District 7 boy had succumbed to his illness, and not long after that, the District 6 girl, who was weak from hunger, had fallen into the river while trying to catch a fish, struck her head on a rock, and drowned.
The first cannon startled Clark, who was on watch, out of a light doze. He hadn’t slept in two nights, and it was starting to show. He heard Lois stirring in the cave, awakened by the sound. A moment later, she stepped out of the cave and sat beside him.
Clark glanced at her, then back at the sunrise. “Nine left,” he murmured. Those fifteen deaths tore at him — he wished he could have helped them. Most hadn’t had a choice about being in the arena, and even those who had volunteered hadn’t deserved to die. He didn’t understand why the Career tributes had volunteered for a game that would almost certainly cost them their lives, but ultimately, no matter what their reasons were, they were no more than momentary entertainment for the bored Capitolites, who thrilled at their deaths and then forgot about them.
A few minutes later, when the second cannon boomed, Lois spoke up. “Eight left,” she told Clark quietly. “They’ll be interviewing our families today. ‘Aren’t you proud that your daughter outlived sixteen other kids? Wasn’t it exciting when she killed that girl?’” Her voice was sarcastic. “I don’t see why they interview the families of the final eight — seven of us are still going to die. Why not wait until the Games are over and just interview the family of the victor? Why get people’s hopes up?”
“Lois …” Clark warned, looking around uneasily and speaking in a hushed tone. “Such words could be seen as rebellion.”
Lois acted like he hadn’t spoken. “They’ll ask about Claude, too. ‘Did you hear what he did to your daughter? Are you glad he’s dead? Wouldn’t it have been even better if she’d killed him?’” Lois clenched her fists angrily. “Well, I’m
not glad he’s dead! Stealing my project and lying about me isn’t a reason to be happy that he’s dead. I would have been happy if he’d been forced to admit to what he did. Public humiliation would have been good enough!”
Clark put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t like it, either,” he whispered. “We have to be careful what we say, though — they’ll be in our districts today, and we don’t want to give them a reason to retaliate.”
Lois turned to glare at him, but kept her voice low enough that it wouldn’t be picked up by the microphones. “You sound like my teachers. They were always telling me just to write what I was told to write and nothing else. After a field trip to the factories, we were just supposed to write about what the factories make, not the fact that while we were there a worker lost a hand while operating a machine with insufficient safeguards. When we came back to school in the fall and wrote an essay about the Reaping, we were supposed to write about the Capitol’s benevolence, not that the kids of victors get chosen so often that it can’t be a coincidence. Well, Farmboy, some things need to be said, no matter how angry it makes the ones in power!”
With that, Lois stood, turned on her heel, and stalked down the hill in the direction of the lake, leaving Clark staring after her, her words echoing in his mind.
*****
That afternoon, Lois and Clark were foraging near the top of the ridge, keeping their distance from the force field that lay along the crest of the hill. Clark could hear the faint buzzing sound it made, but what made the force field obvious to both of them were the dead birds lying just below the edge of the ridge on both sides. The birds had attempted to go through the invisible barrier and had been electrocuted, their singed feathers giving mute evidence of what had happened.
The force field, although impenetrable, was harmless to Clark, though hitting it would give away his secret, but touching it would be fatal to Lois. As such, Clark made sure to stay between Lois and the force field, occasionally throwing small rocks and sticks at it to show where it was and give him a valid reason for his knowing its location.
They weren’t the only ones foraging on the hillside. Clark could hear the occasional footsteps of two other tributes, but one was far below them and the other was some distance to the west. So long as they were far away, there was no need to hide from them.
What Clark didn’t realize was that there was a third tribute near the ridge. The boy from District 8 had discovered an electrocuted quail near a wild cherry tree heavy with ripe fruit. After enjoying his first full meal since entering the arena, the boy had settled into the tall, dry grass at the base of the tree and fallen asleep.
He was awakened by the sound of Lois and Clark approaching, their voices carrying farther than they realized. Alarmed, the District 8 boy drew his knife, crouching in the grass and hoping not to be noticed.
Clark heard the rustling sound from the dry grass just ahead of them and came to an abrupt halt. Lois almost bumped into him before she realized that he’d stopped.
“What is it?” Lois asked quietly, her hands automatically dropping to the streamer sticks that swung from her belt as she stepped around Clark to get a better look.
“There’s someone there,” Clark said in a low voice. “I think we need to —“
At this, the boy leaped from his hiding place, slashing the knife in front of him. His eyes were wide and scared. “Stay away from me!” he warned, his voice cracking and quavering.
As he jumped into view, Lois pulled her streamer sticks free, but didn’t advance, taking up a defensive stance, feet about two feet apart and the left slightly in advance with the sticks crossed in front of her chest.
Stepping between them, Clark put up his hands, palms forward to indicate that he was unarmed. “We’re not going to hurt you,” Clark told him, but the boy was too frightened to listen.
He looked back and forth between Lois and Clark. “Get back!” he yelled, darting towards the top of the ridge.
“Wait!” Clark shouted, rushing towards the boy when he realized how close he was to the force field. “Don’t —“
By the time Clark had taken two paces in his direction, it was already too late. The District 8 boy’s knife touched the force field, immediately conducting electricity into his body. He didn’t make a sound as it coursed through him, killing him in seconds and igniting the dry grass at his feet.
A cannon boomed just before the boy fell to the ground. The flames, driven by the gusty afternoon wind, quickly set the boy’s clothing afire, then moved swiftly through the grass and into the summer-dry chaparral.
“Clark! Run!” As Lois turned to take her own advice, she stuffed the rabbit hide thongs under her belt so that the streamer sticks would hang down at the ready again, freeing her hands.
Clark turned and ran in Lois’s direction, covering the short distance between them in seconds. They raced away from the rapidly spreading fire, running along the ridgeline and then downhill, slipping and skidding on the loose rocks and dirt, creating a miniature landslide as they moved.
The fire spread quickly, fueled by decades’ worth of thick, highly flammable plant growth. When it reached the pines covering the hillside, it rushed through the treetops, igniting dead branches and needles and engulfing dead and dying trees. The crackling of the burning trees and pine needles and the roar of the flames were almost deafening by this time.
Even with the gusts of wind, made stronger as the fire produced its own small areas of weather with almost tornadic winds, the flames were spreading much faster than they could have naturally. The Gamemakers, upon seeing the burgeoning flames, had decided to add to the excitement by exploding small incendiary packs, hidden under the bark of some of the trees, that contributed to the fire’s spread and made it far more dangerous for the fleeing tributes.
As Lois and Clark ran down the slope, heading in the direction of the lake, an incendiary pack exploded in a tree about twenty feet away. The fluid was quickly ignited by flying sparks, and the flames rapidly climbed into the branches of the tree.
A terrified, agonized scream came from the tribute who had been halfway down the tree when it caught fire. Engulfed in flames, the District 5 girl plummeted the remaining forty feet to the ground, still writhing in agony from her burns and the injuries sustained in the fall after she landed.
Clark froze, horrified at the sight, torn between the need to get Lois to safety and the desire to help the badly injured girl. He knew there was nothing he could do to save the other tributes, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to help them.
Even as he started to break away from Lois, the girl stopped moving and a cannon sounded. As though reading his mind, Lois grabbed his arm and shouted to make herself heard by him. “There was nothing you could have done for her! All we can do now is try to make it to the lake and save ourselves!”
The fire was spreading through the undergrowth, climbing more trees and being fueled by more incendiary packs. As they continued downhill with Lois coughing from the smoke, the mountain lion suddenly raced past them, her cub dangling by the scruff of its neck from her mouth. The tip of the mother cat’s tail was aflame.
Realizing that an extra gust of wind in the chaos wasn’t likely to be noticed, Clark sent a burst of super breath in the mountain lion’s direction, putting out the fire on her tail and temporarily numbing the pain of the burn. Then he blew some of the thick, choking smoke out of Lois’s way — not enough that any of the surviving cameras would pick up on the sudden thinning of the smoke, but enough that Lois could breathe easier.
As they neared the bottom of the slope, a sudden strong gust of wind sent the flames over their heads and into the branches of a large, half-dead pine. One of the branches, already near the breaking point, snapped off, plunging towards the two fleeing tributes.
Clark heard the crack of the breaking branch and looked up to see it falling towards them. He pushed Lois out of its path, feeling the tip of the flaming piece of wood graze his back. It didn’t hurt him at all, but it did set his jacket on fire. Clark dropped to the ground and rolled over on his back, smothering the flames. He was quick enough that his shirt hadn’t caught fire, thereby eliminating the need to excuse the fact that his skin wasn’t affected.
Lois kicked the flaming branch farther away and held out her hand to Clark. He took it, getting quickly to his feet. He turned so that Lois could see his back, and once she confirmed that the flames were out, he urged Lois on. They were less than three hundred feet from the lake now.
Lois and Clark were only twenty-five feet from the lake when Clark’s superhearing picked up the sound of the sap boiling inside a large, well-watered tree about ten feet behind them. Just before the tree exploded, Clark got behind Lois, wrapping his arms around her and protecting her from the explosion with his body. Then he used the force of the explosion to cover his short flight into the lake, where he set them down with a splash.
The fire continued to burn as they made their way into deeper water. As the late afternoon wind changed direction, there was a scream that only Clark could hear, followed by another cannon boom.
After that, there was only the sound of the fire crackling and the voices of the Careers echoing across the lake from the relative safety of the Cornucopia. At the end of the fifth day in the arena, only five tributes were left.
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