The reverberating toll of the starting bell resonated throughout the Dodecagon, the haunting sound embedding itself in Hazel's psyche. At that moment, her limbs seemed frozen in time while her heart thundered within her chest. She could not hear a single other sound. No birds chirping. No wind. Just the starting bell's unsettling chime. If she didn't know better, she would almost mistake this for one of her nightmares. But this was worse, so much worse.
Tributes catapulted off their discs, hurtling toward the Cornucopia. To her left, Lara limped forward, holding her bound hands awkwardly in front of her. On Hazel's right, Ian had sat down, focusing on the cuffs around his wrists. He grabbed his left thumb with the opposite hand and pulled it upward until there was a soft, sickening crack of tissue, the joint displacing itself. He grunted as his thumb contorted at an unnatural angle. Bracing himself, he pulled back on his left arm, and his injured hand slipped through the cuff, grotesque and deformed but free. Hazel shuddered at the sight. Maybe he will stay occupied trying to free himself, at least for a while.
Hazel's gaze shifted back to the center; several tributes were still making a determined beeline toward it, among them Silus. Her heart threatened to leap out of her throat as she witnessed him darting toward the hornet's nest. His arms pumped, and his knees nearly reached his chest as he ran.
She slid forward on her disc, but something unusual caught in her line of vision. She halted, staring at the peculiarity – a faint shimmer in the air, like a strand of sunlight catching on a spider's web or the subtle shine of a fishing line.
As her eyes adjusted, focusing on the anomaly, more became apparent. Had they been there before? They crisscrossed the ground around the Cornucopia, almost invisible against the backdrop of the arena. Hazel's mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing, but before she could piece it together, a sudden scream to her left startled her.
Lara had made it several yards, but now she was bent over, reaching down. It all happened in mere seconds; Lara's feet were yanked from beneath her, and her body hoisted upwards. She dangled, suspended by one ankle, which was ensnared in what Hazel now realized was a trap. The wires were almost invisible, waiting for unsuspecting tributes to trigger them. Cold sweat trickled down Hazel's neck as Lara struggled like a trout caught on a line. Lara screamed and writhed, but her frantic movements only caused her to swing more wildly.
Hazel's heart leaped into her throat as Silus was still running. She tried to yell and warn him about the snares, but her voice was drowned out in the chaos. Then, it happened – Silus paused, looking down at his feet. No. His ankle was suddenly jerked upward, his torso landing on the grass below before he was hoisted into the air like he weighed nothing.
Hazel's feet couldn't move fast enough as she flew off her disc. Her heart was pounding as hard as her boots were hitting the grass. She urged her legs to go faster than she had ever gone in her life while her eyes frantically scanned the ground. Three more tributes were yanked into the air. Several others hesitated in their charge toward the Cornucopia.
Across the field, Zoe from District Five was lifted into the air, her body jerking upwards. A short grunt escaped her lips as she was hoisted off the ground. Her auburn hair fell over her face, swaying and tangling as she struggled.
A fleeting flicker of hope crossed Silus's wide eyes as Hazel reached him. Sweat was dripping off his brow as he grunted, pulling in vain at his tether.
"What were you thinking?" Hazel screamed at him as she reached her hands and desperately jumped, trying to grab him. He stretched his body out as far as he could downward. But it was futile – her fingers grasped at empty air, and Silus was hanging far too high for her touch.
Silus, appearing to realize he couldn't reach Hazel, began to struggle to right himself. He grunted, his hand straining toward the binding around his ankle. He tried to pull up his head and torso so his arms could reach his ensnared foot, but his efforts were fruitless. The angle and his height made it impossible for him to free himself. If anything, the more he struggled, the tighter the snare became.
The sound of something slicing through the air chilled Hazel's bones. She whirled around just as a wooden spear with an obsidian tip hurtled toward Lara. Her terrified scream pierced the atmosphere as the spear missed her. The pointed end sliced through the sleeve of her shirt, grazing her arm and leaving a streak of crimson in its wake.
Lara's struggle intensified, her body swinging violently, but the tether held firm, fastened somewhere in the artificial sky above them.
Hazel's gaze darted to the source of the spear. Caleb, Eve, and Julian were at the heart of the Cornucopia, seemingly unscathed. They had amassed a small arsenal of spears, swords, and other weapons and were now moving towards Lara. Julian, his blond hair tousled from the fray, hoisted another spear onto his shoulder, his muscular arms making the deadly weapon seem almost weightless as he aimed again.
The other dangling tributes also appeared to notice, and a few yells and screams rang out as they all were re-energized in their attempts to free themselves. Their cries chilled Hazel's insides with their earnestness. Among the tributes ensnared in the traps, Wiren and Ryan struggled fiercely against their bindings. Wiren's wide eyes were filled with panic as he tugged at the handcuffs encircling his wrists. Across the field, Ryan twisted in his snare, his athletic frame contorting.
"Get out of here, Hazel!" Silus yelled down to her.
"Like hell," Hazel shouted back, turning her attention toward the Cornucopia, "Do your best to duck until I get back." Without another word, she sprinted towards it. Her heart thundered in her ears as she ran.
The center was a whirlwind of activity, with tributes fighting and grabbing supplies. Festus's earlier advice to avoid the center replayed in her mind, but the situation left her no choice.
Halfway to her target, she caught the sight of Iro from District Five, lifeless on the ground at her feet. His lean frame was still, his light brown eyes unmoving, and his youthful features were serene as he stared, unblinking up into the fake sky. Her heart clenched at how it reminded her of Cedar.
Caleb, Eve, and Julian had drifted away from the center, preoccupied with their cruel game of launching spears at Lara, Zoe, and other suspended tributes who were desperately trying to escape their binds. Occasional cheers filled the air each time their spears found a target. The air was thick with the iron scent of blood, and splashes of red stained the grass. If it weren't for the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through her body, she would surely be dry-heaving at the gruesomeness.
As Hazel approached the center, she caught the eyes of Grace and Owen. Owen was hunched in apparent discomfort as he gripped a few scavenged items.
Grace struggled alongside him with matching restraints. Her long, curly black hair was tangled and matted with blood and dirt.
Grace's eyes met Hazel's, and the girl froze. An incomprehensible expression filled her gaze before Owen tugged at her arm, and the two soon sprinted away from the center. Their retreating forms blended into the swaying golden grain of the District Nine tract, their figures swallowed by the high stalks.
When Hazel had finally reached the Cornucopia, she slowed, unsure who or what might be lingering within. She came around the back corner of the structure and halted as she came face to face with Aaron.
For a moment, they both hesitated. Their eyes met, uncertainty hanging between them. The awkward silence was shattered by a piercing scream– one that sounded like it belonged to Mia. Aaron's head whipped towards the sound, his breathing quickening. Sweat soaked the ends of his ashy brown hair. He squared his shoulders as he turned back to Hazel. His eyes were clouded with concern and indecision. He is just as scared of me as I am of him.
"Go, help her. I'm trying to free Silus. If we survive, we'll try to find you both," Hazel urged. His eyes flashed with relief, and he gave a quick nod before he grabbed a bag and a short sword and sprinted off in the direction of the screaming.
Hazel scurried to the largest axe and hefted it up. It was heavy, and the blood-red blade was intimidating. It was no Oliver, but it could undoubtedly do some damage.
Beside the larger axe lay several smaller handheld axes. They were lighter, but their blades were sharper. She tucked three into her waistband and rested the larger axe over her shoulder, stumbling as she adjusted to its weight. Her eyes scanned the remaining supplies, and she spotted a black backpack nearby. It was sturdy-looking, with reinforced seams and padded straps. Grabbing it, she slung it over her shoulder. Hazel turned and began making her way back to Silus.
On her way out of the Cornucopia, she passed the display stands; the gurgling form of Anita lay beneath one. Her skin was covered in blood; her ragged breathing was not foreign. It was the breathing pattern people would often fall into at the hospital when they were about to die. The body's last-ditch attempt to survive. But it was always too little, too late.
The gurgling breathing continued as she scanned the display stands. One of the handcuff keys was gone, but to her surprise, one remained. She scrambled to grasp the little silver key, tucking it in her pocket.
Then, the ragged breathing stopped. Hazel cast a glance at the poor handcuffed girl, lifeless and lying in the warm summer grass. Her head swirled with a lightheaded feeling, and she stumbled away from the sight. I can't hesitate right now. Hazel spared the girl one last sorrowful look before steeling herself and sprinting away.
As she ran, the weight of the axe bounced on her shoulders. Her movements were slower, burdened by the new items. Despite her better judgment, Hazel's eyes flickered towards Lara. To her horror, the tributes from Districts Two and One were circling Lara like wolves closing in on their prey. Lara's screams had ceased, and blood seeped through her clothing and flowed down her chest and face. Her head hung back, and her blonde curls swayed around her head like a crimson-dipped halo. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm Hazel as she tore her eyes away. Maybe they will stay preoccupied for a while.
Suddenly, something grazed her cheek, as delicate as a cobweb. She halted, questioning whether her mind was playing tricks on her. But it soon became evident that it was no imagined sensation; it was a distinct feeling running across the side of her skin, caressing her ear. There was a tug on her boot, and her heart nearly stopped. Glancing down, the deadly sparkle of a snare winked back. A circular loop of rope had just begun to cinch around the toe of her boot. One more step, one movement, and she would be caught like Silus.
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The snare's line brushed against the side of her face as she reached for her waistband and pulled out one of the smaller axes. She didn't dare move too much, keeping her lower body as still as possible. Holding her breath, she brought the smaller axe forward, slicing the blade through the tether. The line snapped, the upper portion disappearing above her and the lower part falling to the ground like a translucent, lifeless snake.
Hazel let out the breath she had been holding, but the momentary relief hardened into a chilling awareness of being observed. Caleb was staring at her from across the field. His dark curls and the gray fabric of his shirt were smattered with specks of blood. He then turned his head from her to Silus, a wide grin forming on his face. No, no, no. Desperation clawed at Hazel as Caleb stooped to pick another spear, spinning it before setting it on his shoulder and starting a jog toward Silus.
"Hey, brother dear, how's it hanging?" Caleb yelled.
Silus's head lifted, and he glared at him. Hazel began to run again, her legs pumping as hard as they would allow. Caleb tilted his head, closed an eye, and aimed for Silus. Caleb pulled his arm back before pushing his whole body forward, thrusting the spear ahead of him. Hazel let out a horrified scream as he let the spear loose. The weapon sliced through the air, making a deadly sound as it hurtled toward Silus. Silus wriggled as the object flew by his leg, cutting a small hole in the material of his pants. I am going to have a stroke.
Caleb cursed and followed his spear, which had landed several meters away.
I don't have any more time. I have to do it now. Hazel came to a stop, setting down the bag and the larger axe on the ground. Reaching into her waistband, Hazel drew out one of the smaller throwing axes. She rotated it, running her fingers over the smooth grooves of the handle.
Before her, the tether that held Silus captive stretched taut. Hazel gauged the distance; it was a decent length, maybe fifteen meters. Just on the cusp of the axe's effective range – a challenging shot but not impossible. Closing her eyes, every muscle in her body tensed as her mind flashed back to District Seven. On lunch breaks, she and her coworkers would retreat into the woods, taking turns throwing axes at makeshift targets. Hazel had always looked forward to these games. She wasn't the best axe thrower, but she was far from the worst. The weight of the axe in her hands, the sound it made slicing through the air, and the precise moment of release – it all came flooding through her limbs.
Hazel re-opened her eyes, holding the axe with both hands and raised it above her head. She drew back, aligning her body. Then, with a deep breath, she lunged forward, her arms extending ahead of her. The axe took flight, end over end, with Hazel's hope and desperation fueling its journey. It sliced through the air with a soft whoosh, its dark blade catching the light as it spun.
A flicker of fear and hope reflected in Silus's eyes. Hazel's arms were still outstretched, as though she could somehow will it to its target. A few yards away, Caleb was scrambling to retrieve his spear, his movements a blur in Hazel's peripheral vision. Then, a more than satisfying sound reached Hazel's ears. Far more gratifying than any bullseye she had achieved in the forests of District Seven. The sharp, clean sound of the axe slicing through the tether was like music, smooth as a knife gliding through softened butter. The rope gave way, snapping with a resonant twang, the axe continuing its flight, disappearing into the sea of grass that covered the field.
Silus, suddenly released from his aerial prison, began to plummet towards the ground. Her heart was in her throat, as he descended, his body contorting in an attempt to brace for impact. He landed with a heavy thud, his body half on his stomach, half on one knee, a grunt escaping his lips.
Bending down, she gathered her discarded items. With renewed urgency, she began sprinting towards Silus once again.
Caleb had just reached for his spear when he spun around. "Nice shot there, Red!" He yelled as he began to jog toward Hazel and Silus, the spear resting on his shoulder. As he closed in on them, Hazel reached Silus, her heart pounding in her chest.
Their only option was to sprint toward the opposite side of the Cornucopia. "We have to move now!" She shouted as she came upon Silus, gripping his arm and helping him to stand. Together, they broke into a full sprint.
Caleb wore a sinister grin as he quickened his own pace. Eve's voice pierced the air from behind them, "Leave them, Caleb! Let's finish off the danglers first."
A surprised curse that filtered through the air. Hazel stole a glance over her shoulder just in time to witness Caleb being hoisted into the air, his spear dropping from his grasp like a discarded toy. His ankle hung high above his body, his boot entrapped with the familiar silvery snare lines. He dangled in the air like a rag doll; his face contorted as he called out to Eve and Julian.
Silus and Hazel pressed on, putting distance between themselves and the trio.
"Aaron and Mia should be around here." Kai and Iris from Eleven were nowhere in sight. Most of the tributes had disappeared, including Ian Threader and both the tributes from Twelve. Her heart ached for poor little Ruby, praying she had escaped the initial fight.
They continued to run, covering several meters, with Silus stealing glances down at his feet. Their pace slowed as they circled the far side of the imposing Cornucopia. As they turned the corner, Mia hung upside down, her anguished moans filling the air. A spear jutted from her left thigh, crimson rivulets tracing a path down her trembling body. Her onyx hair swayed as she clutched her injured leg, her face twisted in agony.
Beneath her, Aaron was locked in combat with Elara. Her figure was lithe and smaller compared to Aaron's bulkier frame, but she moved with a dancer's grace. In her hand, she wielded a knife, its blade a perfect extension of her. Her coffee-brown hair whipped about her shoulders.
Aaron, for his part, was armed with a small sword, its length modest but sharp. His focus appeared to be concentrated on parrying Elara's thrusts and slashes. He was clearly hesitant, his expression wide-eyed.
Hazel's injuries burned as she ran, but adrenaline dulled her nerves.
Elara managed to breach Aaron's defense, slicing his hip. He let out an anguished cry and stumbled backward.
Silus paused, extending his outstretched palm toward Hazel. Without hesitation, she heaved the larger axe into Silus's waiting hands. He swung it over his shoulder and advanced toward Elara. "Hey, One!"
Elara's attention snapped toward him.
Silus's voice was firm as he rotated the axe, "Back off."
Elara's widening eyes betrayed her realization that she was outnumbered. Hazel, meanwhile, darted to Aaron. He was groaning, hand pressed against the fresh wound on his hip. Hazel bent beside him, appraising the cut. Though blood marked his clothing, the wound itself seemed shallow. She guided his hand with hers to apply pressure.
"Press hard," Hazel advised. "It should stop bleeding soon."
Aaron nodded, his gaze caught between his injury, Mia dangling above them, and Silus and Elara's standoff before looking back at Hazel. "We need to get her down."
"You're right. We need to get out of the open and away from Elara as soon as possible."
Mia's hands were wrapped around her thigh, stuttering moans leaking from her.
"Mia," Hazel called up to her. The girl's eyes looked down at them. Her features were puffed from hanging so long upside down. "If we get you a weapon, can you reach the snare?"
Mia looked from them up to her suspended foot. Her small stature made her nimble and flexible. She pondered for a second before nodding and choking out, "I think I can try."
Elara retreated several steps as she watched the scene unfold. Silus continued to pursue her, putting himself between her and Aaron, Mia, and Hazel. Elara tilted her head as amusement and curiosity colored her tone, "You guys are in an alliance?"
"Something like that," Silus replied.
A sly smirk played on Elara's lips as she assessed them, her weapon held before her. She seemed to be sizing up her opponents. "How sweet."
Meanwhile, Aaron attempted to throw his blade up to Mia, handle-first. She reached for it but fumbled. The blade fell back down to the ground, lodging in the earth blade-first. Aaron moaned as he hefted the blade toward her again. As she stretched her body, more blood seeped from her thigh.
Elara's attention darted between Silus, the menacing red blade of the axe on his shoulder, and Aaron's clumsy attempt at passing the sword to Mia. With a guttural grunt, Mia finally caught it.
"Why don't you run back to your group, One?" Silus's voice rumbled low and threatening.
What is she doing? It was clear that Elara recognized she was outnumbered, yet she didn't back down or make a hasty retreat.
A gut-wrenching cry from Mia captured Hazel's attention. With Aaron's blade now in her grasp, Mia dragged her upper body closer to her feet, her shorter stature granting her some advantage in reaching the web that bound her ankle. She swiped at the strands, the blade cutting through the line, causing it to release. She tumbled into a heap onto the grass below her, her body landing with a dreadful thud, followed by a sharp gasp.
Hazel rushed to Mia. The spear had not fully impaled her leg; its tip was buried in her thigh. Dark blood continued to seep from the wound, creating an ominous ring around the area. Silus cast a swift glance back at them but remained focused on Elara, who showed no sign of retreating further.
Hazel focused on Aaron as she pulled one of the hand axes from her belt. "Get your belt and wrap it here," she directed, pointing to the area above the embedded spear. Aaron knelt beside her, nodding. With bloody hands, he began to remove the belt from around his waist.
Mia, her eyes squeezed shut, pleaded, "Please pull it out."
With pity in her eyes, Hazel shook her head, her voice gentle but firm, "We can't do that now. If we remove it, you could bleed out in seconds or go into shock. Our best chance is to leave it in." Mia swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears. Removing the spear might seem like the immediate solution, but it could cause more harm. Hazel knew if they removed the spear now, Mia might not survive the next few minutes, let alone get to the end of the game.
With shaking hands, Aaron wrapped his leather belt around Mia's thigh, tightening it to the last hole. Hazel gripped the spear's shaft and turned to Mia, her voice soothing, "Close your eyes and take a deep breath."
Mia complied and laid her head back. "Hold her leg steady, Aaron," Hazel directed, bracing herself. With a firm grip on her axe and the other hand on the spear where it penetrated Mia's thigh, she chopped at the spear's wooden shaft, shortening it with a single stroke. Mia let out a sharp cry of pain. "I'm so sorry, so sorry."
"You really think you will save her?" Elara called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She laughed as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
Aaron caught Hazel's eyes; fear and exhaustion colored his features. Mia was taking in deep gulps of air, trying to calm her breathing. Tears streamed down her face. Aaron was holding her hand, trying to whisper words of comfort. Hazel's thoughts raced; they were exposed, vulnerable in the open field, and if they didn't move soon, other tributes would surely find them. Remaining stationary was a death sentence.
"Silus," Hazel urged, "We've got to move. We need to get her out of here, now."
Aaron pulled Mia to her feet; she let out a deep moan as she shifted her weight onto her good leg.
Elara took a few small steps closer. She was clearly not ready to give up her pursuit.
"What do you want, one?" Silus challenged, intercepting her advance. He lowered the axe from his shoulder.
"She wants to fight," Hazel stated.
"You're wrong," Elara countered, a slight smirk playing on her lips, "I want to win." She held her stance; her eyes moved to Hazel with unwavering focus.
They could not afford to have Elara trail them or delay their departure. Caleb and his allies, once free, would undoubtedly begin their search for her.
As Hazel scanned the field, a plan formed in her mind.
Hazel whispered to Aaron, "We need to get her out of here soon. Don't wait for us if things start to go bad."
A slight look of confusion crossed his brow, but he nodded, tightening his grip around Mia. The girl rested her head on his shoulder, taking deep breaths and trembling.
Hazel approached Silus, placing a hand on his arm. "Go help Aaron; we need your strength to get Mia out of here."
"Haze..." Silus paused, his gaze shifting between Hazel and the looming threat of Elara.
"Trust me," Hazel implored, meeting his eyes with a firm intensity.
Silus appeared torn but eventually nodded, stepping back toward Aaron and Mia, "Don't do anything stupid."
"Like running straight into a death trap?" Hazel responded, eyebrow raised.
Silus offered an eye roll in response. "I mean it," he sighed, his warm brown eyes searching hers before retreating.
Hazel distanced herself from her group, positioning herself on Elara's left, forcing the girl to shift her focus solely onto Hazel. The tension between them crackled, and Elara adjusted her stance, ready for Hazel's next move. This better work.
As Hazel tightened her grip on the axe already in her hand, she pulled the second axe from her waistband. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped both weapons, running her fingers over the handles. The metallic blades gleamed under the harsh sun. She slid her feet shoulder-width apart, balancing her weight.
Elara mirrored her moves, her eyes never straying from the gleaming axes in Hazel's grasp. A heavy stillness stretched endlessly beneath the unyielding fake sky.
"All right, it's just us girls now," Hazel tried to keep her tone light, taunting even, despite the nervousness that gripped her. Elara's sadistic smile broadened, revealing a dangerous hunger. "You want to win?" Hazel continued, her green eyes piercing into Elara's, "Start with me."