Chapter Thirteen
Some time later, Lois and Clark sat before a small fire on the edge of the burned area near the river. The area still reeked of smoke, making it unlikely that either of the two remaining Careers would smell the fire and come looking for them.
The weather had grown colder even as the sun had risen higher in the sky, a sure sign that the Gamemakers were trying to bring the Games to an end. It was the ninth day since the 66th Annual Hunger Games had begun, and the Capitol was eager for the conclusion.
Lois sat near the fire, wrapped in the blanket she had taken from the Cornucopia. She and Clark had shared half of the contents of a can of mixed vegetables, then added some of the cut-up fish to what was left in the can to make a stew, pushing hot coals around the can to cook the food.
Clark was lost in thought as he sat across the fire from Lois. Lysander’s death, and the moment that Clark had realized that he had killed him, kept replaying itself in his mind. He understood now why Lois had been so distraught upon learning of Platinum’s death — before, he had sympathized, but it wasn’t until he found himself in the same position that he fully understood. The knowledge that he was responsible for someone else’s death, even if it was unintentional, was tremendously painful.
Lysander’s death had been an accident, but Clark still kept thinking of what he might have done differently, of how he might have changed the outcome. He had abilities far beyond those of any ordinary person, abilities that should have allowed him to know that the knife was there and that Lysander might fall on it if he shoved him. He could easily have thrown the District 2 boy to the side, thus both saving Lois and leaving Lysander alive. He could have punched him and knocked him out, buying time to rescue Lois and escape. If he’d done things a little differently, he would not now have the blood of another tribute on his hands.
The whole raid on the Cornucopia had gone terribly wrong. Their plan had been simple enough — wait until the Careers left, then slip into the Cornucopia and grab some supplies. Yet, somehow, the Careers had set a trap for them — a trap which Clark had known nothing about.
He had listened
for the Careers constantly, allowing himself and Lois to slip away whenever they came near. The problem was that he hadn’t listened
to them. He hadn’t heard them make their plans to trap them in the Cornucopia.
It had nearly been a fatal mistake, at least as far as Lois was concerned. Clark knew that he couldn’t have been killed, but his inattention had almost cost Lois her life. In such a dangerous environment, he had to be more careful.
If he had known about the Careers’ plans, he would have still planned the raid with Lois. She was dangerously close to starvation, and even he was feeling the lack of food. They would have raided the Cornucopia anyway — but they would have taken steps to make sure the Careers weren’t waiting for them, perhaps by leading them away from the Cornucopia or by setting a trap that would keep them occupied while he and Lois took what they needed.
Unfortunately, Clark was growing less and less capable of planning ahead or paying close attention to anything. He hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes at a time in six days, and even he couldn’t go that long without sleep without there being consequences. He hadn’t allowed himself to sleep for fear that he would start floating and give away his secret. Now his exhaustion had caught up with him, impairing his judgment and making him unable to concentrate.
Clark drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. He stared blankly at the fire and the can of stew, his mind far away.
He didn’t realize that he’d fallen asleep until Lois shook him. “Clark? Clark!”
“Hmm? What?” Clark looked at Lois groggily, relieved to find that he was still on the ground.
“I think the stew is ready.”
“Oh … right.” Clark shook his head to clear it. He pulled the knife from his belt, using it to push the coals away from the can.
While she had watched the food cook, Lois had repaired the thong on her streamer stick that Lysander had cut. To free her hands, she had pulled the thongs through her belt again. She felt a lot better with them at hand.
Lois had also found two flat slabs of pine bark to use as plates, so minutes later, they were eating small portions of the fish stew, taking care not to eat too quickly. After going several days with very little food, eating too much at once was likely to make Lois sick, and Clark thought that he shouldn’t eat too fast, either, if only to avoid suspicion.
The berries the Careers had gathered were untouched. Clark picked the bag up from where it was sitting nearby and took a few, then twisted it closed and passed the rest to Lois. She took the bag absently, still concentrating upon the fish and vegetables on her piece of bark.
After a moment, Lois took a berry from the bag and started to put it in her mouth. Suddenly, she stopped, frowning, and examined the small fruit more closely, then tossed it into the fire. Quickly, she emptied the contents of the bag into the coals, blowing on them until the berries caught fire. The bag followed them a moment later.
Clark gaped at Lois as she got up and hurried to the river, where she knelt down and began scrubbing her hands with sand and water. He was shocked that someone so close to starvation could throw food away like that. Perhaps there had been enough food when Lois was growing up that unwanted items could be thrown away, but food had never been thrown away in the Kent household unless it was spoiled — and in recent years, not even then, since Clark could eat spoiled food without the slightest ill effect.
He looked at the berries in his hand for a moment, then put them in his mouth — and immediately understood why Lois had thrown the fruit away. The berries looked like blueberries, but they tasted terrible — they were both extremely bitter and insipid at the same time. Whatever they were, they weren’t blueberries.
Clark swallowed the handful of fruit — food was food, no matter how bad it tasted — and then joined Lois at the river, scooping handfuls of water into his mouth to wash away the foul taste. Lois gave him a worried look, but when he sat back, the taste finally gone from his mouth, she concluded that he hadn’t eaten any of the berries and had just been thirsty.
Silently, they returned to the fire. The temperature was still dropping, so when they were finished with their small meal, they gathered up their hard-won supplies and began the long hike back to the cave, the only shelter they had. By this time, it was late afternoon, so they collected some firewood and carried it with them.
*****
That night, they built as large a fire as they dared. However, that wasn’t very large, and it barely took the chill off of the cave.
Starting awake, Lois snapped at Clark, “Clark, I’m fine! You don’t need to keep fussing over me!” as he shook her awake for the third time since they’d returned to the cave.
Clark crossed his arms and looked back at Lois stubbornly. “You hit your head pretty hard earlier. I think you might have a concussion.”
At least it isn’t a skull fracture, he thought — he’d used his X-ray vision to check.
Gingerly, Lois touched the lump on the back of her head, then wrapped herself more tightly in the blanket. “Maybe I do. In fact, I probably do. I did get knocked out. But it doesn’t help when you keep waking me up every five minutes!”
“Actually, it’s about every hour, judging from the position of the stars.”
“Clark! How can you be so sure? Those aren’t real stars! Leave … me … alone. I just need some sleep.”
Using his telescopic vision, Clark could see the real stars beyond the force field, but he couldn’t tell Lois that. Instead, he told her, “The fake star patterns repeat themselves after an hour or so.” Then he added, “I don’t want you going into a coma or something, so …”
“At this point, I would think that hypothermia would be more likely, but either way, if I did, it would make it easier on you.”
“What?!” Clark gave her an appalled look.
“There’s only four of us left, and the Gamemakers are trying to end this year’s Games. If I fall asleep and don’t wake up, all you’ll have to do is wait out those two idiot Careers, and you’ll be the victor.”
Clark shook his head. “Absolutely not! I’m not going to let you die from a stupid bump on the head or from the cold.”
“You let Lysander die from a stupid fall on the ground.”
Clark tensed, clenching his fists at the reminder. “Dammit, Lois …”
Lois put her head down as a wave of dizziness came over her. She knew that he was probably right that she was suffering from a concussion. She also knew that she was being unfair, but at the moment, her head hurt, she was cold, she was sleepy, and she was feeling too irritable to care.
Clark stared at Lois for a moment as she put her head down and closed her eyes, then turned and ducked out of the cave. He looked around and listened closely, but there was no sign of the Careers.
Deciding that Lois was safe enough for the moment, he walked the half-mile to the lake, where he stood looking across it at the Cornucopia. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his token and gazing at it.
Clark wanted to go home, and it was looking more and more likely that he would be victor. There had been no sign of Kryptonite anywhere in the arena, no matter how hard he’d looked. Unless someone sent a gift of Kryptonite to one of the other tributes, it was highly unlikely that he would die — and there was no real reason for anyone to send Kryptonite.
Clark wanted to return home to District 9, to resume his old life and try to forget that he’d ever been a contestant in this sickening game. He had to wonder, though, if he would be accepted when and if he made it home. His parents had always done their best to reinforce his gentle nature, to get him to use his strength for good. What did they think of him now that he’d killed another tribute? What were his friends thinking? Would he be able to go home and get back to normal, or would he be forever separated from those he loved by his experiences in the arena?
And what about Rachel? How could he ever forget Lois? Things would never be the same with Rachel now.
Clark didn’t know what he would face if he came out of the Hunger Games alive, but he suspected that, like his mentors, he would be haunted by the experience for a long time to come.
*****
It was almost light by the time Lois got up. She kept the blanket wrapped around her, as the temperature had dropped to well below freezing during the night and the fire had died down to just coals. Even with the blanket folded in two and worn like a shawl, she was still cold. She made her way out of the cave and sat down next to Clark, who was keeping watch.
Clark had persisted in waking her every hour, doing his best to make sure she was okay. He wasn’t terribly happy with her for reminding him about what had happened to Lysander, but from his limited knowledge of the aftereffects of a head injury, he thought that Lois’s crankiness might come from having a concussion and from the accompanying headache.
When she sat down next to him, he smiled at her tentatively. He ducked into the cave and retrieved a can of soup he had put into the coals of the night’s fire while Lois slept. He was careful to use his jacket as a potholder. A package of crackers sat on the ground beside him.
Lois smiled back, reaching to touch the lump on her head. She winced slightly at the discomfort, but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. Clark had found a still-living willow tree at the edge of the lake and had brought her some leaves to chew, and that, combined with the rest she’d gotten in spite of Clark’s efforts to keep her awake, had helped.
She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to apologize for what she’d said earlier. It was obvious that Clark didn’t take Lysander’s death lightly, and it was just as obvious that he wouldn’t take her death lightly, either.
“Clark?”
“Hmm?” Clark looked up from where he was using his knife to open the can.
“I … don’t think I thanked you for saving my life yesterday.”
Clark went back to working on the can. “You saved my life the first day in the arena.”
“So … you were … returning the favor?”
“More or less …” Clark tossed the lid of the can aside and picked up the empty can they’d saved from the day before. He poured two-thirds of the soup into it and gave it to Lois.
Lois stared at it, noting that he’d given her the larger share of the food again. She hadn’t been blind to the way he’d made sure she had enough food to keep going, even when it meant he went hungry himself.
She reached for the can in his hand, intending to pour some of her soup into it. He shook his head, taking his can back and holding it out of her reach.
“I’m fine,” he told her. “You’re the one who’s starving.”
“You need food, too.”
“I have some.”
“Dammit, Clark …” Lois stood up and grabbed for his can again. When he refused to relinquish it, she still poured some of the contents of her can into it, then sat down again. “Eat!” she ordered him. “You’re looking a little thin yourself, Farmboy.”
Clark frowned. He had lost a little weight, though not much. His ability to obtain energy from sunlight had helped to keep him healthy even without much food. He was hungry, but not hungry enough to take food away from Lois.
When he tried to give it back, though, Lois moved her can out of his reach and looked at him stubbornly. “No,” she told him. “You need it as much as I do — and if you try to make me eat your share, Kent, you’ll end up wearing it.”
Clark sighed. He’d already learned, in the short time he’d known her, that when Lois set her mind to something, there was nothing he could do to change it. His strength was no match for Lois’s stubbornness.
Glancing at the package of crackers beside him, he decided to give in — then make sure she got an extra share of the crackers.
To buy some time, she took a sip of the soup. She murmured, “Mmm, hot soup. Nothing like it on a cold morning.” Having run out of delaying tactics, she stared into her soup and said, “Clark, I’m sorry about what I said earlier about Lysander.” She finally looked up from her soup and looked Clark in the face as she continued, “You didn’t let him die. It was an accident. I know you would have saved him if you could.”
Clark turned to look at her. “What makes you think that?”
“I saw how you reacted when that girl fell out of the tree in the fire. You’re a decent person.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not. Not anymore.”
“Yes, you are — and I don’t believe you saved my life just to even the score. If that was the case, we would have been even after you protected me from the exploding tree during the fire. But that was four days ago, and you’re still protecting me. You could have abandoned me to starve or killed me outright, but you didn’t.” She placed a hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her because of the contact as she continued, “You’re one of the most decent people I have ever known.” She made sure that he was looking her in the eyes. They could see the pain in each other’s eyes as she added, “Clark, I know how it feels to have taken someone’s life. When I found out about Platinum’s death, I was in shock. I hadn’t meant to kill her. I hadn’t wanted to kill her, and when I found out she was dead, I felt like — like something in me had died. I didn’t like her in the slightest, but — I never wanted her dead. I wasn’t sorry I’d saved your life, but I was sorry I’d ended hers. I’m still sorry.”
Clark was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “Both of my parents believe in kindness and compassion. They taught me that, and made sure I remembered it as I grew up to be big and strong — they didn’t want me to become a bully and take advantage of those weaker than me. Because of that, I never wanted to hurt anyone. In fact, whenever I can, I try to prevent people from being hurt.”
Lois interrupted, “I know. I saw how you were with Becky. You did everything you could to protect and help her.” Lois saw the look of pain that mentioning Becky’s name caused and continued, “It was a real shame about Becky, but she was just too sick. There just wasn’t anything more you could have done for her. Even with all of that, she couldn’t have had a better ally … nor could I.”
Clark gave her a small smile before he continued, “I don’t like fighting, and I’ve avoided it for years. What happened yesterday — I wish I could take it back. I keep thinking about what I could have done instead that would have saved you and spared Lysander’s life, too.”
“Clark, you didn’t know the knife was there.”
“No.”
But I should have.Lois took Clark’s hand, squeezing it gently. “How could you have? He was between you and the knife. Do you think you could have seen it through him or something? Neither of us wanted to hurt anyone else, let alone kill them. In these Games, though, there isn’t much of a choice if you want to stay alive.”
She doesn’t know how close to the truth she is. I should have used my X-ray vision. Then I would have seen the knife, but I can’t say that. “I know … but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
They looked up at the sound of angry voices coming from near the Cornucopia. It was remarkable how sound carried over water. They were loud enough that even Lois could hear them, but only Clark could make out what they said.
“You filthy little rat! I should have killed you this morning instead of just kicking you where it hurts!” Mayson screamed.
“You missed your chance, you stupid —“ There was the sound of a slap, followed by a howl of pain and a burst of profanity from Lumen.
The sound of clashing metal echoed across the lake. Clark looked in the direction of the sound and saw the two remaining Careers fighting with swords. They seemed fairly evenly matched until Mayson managed to knock the sword from Lumen’s hand, slicing into his arm as she did so. From this distance, Clark couldn’t tell if it was skill or luck that gave Mayson the advantage.
Lumen turned to run. Mayson grabbed a spear and went after him, throwing it at him as he ran into the forest. He yelled as the spear struck his right foot a glancing blow, but didn’t stop.
“Come back and fight, you coward!” Mayson shouted. Lumen called her an obscene name, but didn’t come back.
Clark watched as Mayson moved slowly away from the woods, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. With his X-ray vision, he watched her go into the Cornucopia, where she grabbed a couple more spears and stood in the entrance, ready to defend herself against the remaining three tributes.
“So ends the Career alliance,” Lois murmured, gazing across the lake.
“They’re both still out there, though,” Clark reminded her. “We still have to be careful.”
Clark thought back to the previous evening, when Lysander’s picture had been projected as the latest tribute to be killed. He shuddered at the memory, thinking about what Lysander’s family and friends in District 2 must be feeling. He wondered if Lysander’s mysterious Capitol father mourned the loss of his son — or if he even cared.
Sensing his mood, Lois put a comforting arm around Clark, and they sat in silence until trumpets sounded and the voice of Claudius Templesmith boomed through the arena.
“Tributes! Tomorrow morning, at sunrise, there will be a feast at the east end of the lake. Sponsors have generously provided items that each of you need. These items will be in backpacks with your district numbers on them. Think long and hard before you refuse to show up. This may be your last chance.”
After that, the arena was silent again. Finally, Lois said, “It’s a trap.”
“I agree,” Clark told her, “but still … what if the item for you is a coat or something? It’s so cold …”
“I’m okay,” Lois told him as she pulled the blanket more securely around her body, but they both knew that it was a lie. In spite of her best efforts, Lois couldn’t hide her shivering. Even wrapped in the blanket, she was cold, and there was no more fuel for a fire near the cave. What they had used the previous night they’d had to carry back with them from the unburned area.
“I can go and get … whatever these sponsor gifts are, and you can stay here where it’s safe …”
“Safe?” Lois laughed humorlessly. “There’s never a safe place in the arena. Even if they aren’t allies anymore, Lumen and Mayson may be waiting for us to split up. We’ll be a lot easier to take out separately than together. I think we should skip this ‘feast’.”
Clark shook his head. “If it gets much colder, you’ll freeze to death. I think we need to go.”
“And if it’s not warm clothing or anything else we can use?”
“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. I know the Gamemakers are eager to end this, so they’re probably hoping everyone shows up so we’ll fight. They might even have set a trap, but … I don’t think we really have a choice.”
“If you’re going, I’m going,” Lois told him. “I think splitting up is the worst thing we can do at this point … so I’ll go with you. Two pairs of eyes can look out for traps better than one, and two against two is better odds than one against two.”
Clark considered pointing out that he had managed to overcome both of the remaining Careers just yesterday in order to get to her and save her from Lysander, but when he saw the determined look on Lois’s face, he decided to keep quiet.
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