Deadly Game - Chapter 20

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Chapter 20

It's getting darker.

Faith is inside the cave, trying to catch some sleep as Axara and I are on guard. The darkness and snow will give our followers a perfect opportunity to attack, so we need to stay on watch.

'Cause I am sure we have followers.

This clearing is the Gamemaker's doing, I sense it. And the wind that hit us in the back and guided us here? The Gamemaker's doings as well. And raspberries would never survive in this climate.

Axara and I sit in the shadows, on each side of the cave, and we do not speak. We listen to the noises of the night, and our eyes watch like hawks for any movement around us. Thankfully the thick snow berry and raspberry bushes around the clearing are hard to come through. They give us a perfect little protection.

We decided to only rest one person at the time, doubling our protection. We can't take risks. Though I know, that very soon, I will be on my own, taking risks. This alliance won't last forever. Eventually we'll have to break up, go our separate ways.

I shove the thoughts from my head. I have to concentrate on the followers, not our alliance. I trust Axara and Faith enough to be sure they won't kill me in my sleep – that goes against their morals.

The Northern lights light up the sky, and their green light casts a spooky shimmer into the clearing.

I hear a branch snap, followed by a low curse.

Immediately I'm on my feet, twisting towards the sound, as is Axara. My hand is about to move to the knives in my belt, but I realize they are too precious. I need them to survive. Instead, I grab an arrow from the quiver, and position it on the bow. I have no time to doubt my archery skills – though at this distance, I should be able to hit about anything.

But no one attacks. Axara relaxes slightly after ten minutes, but my body refuses to. It screams, danger, danger, danger, and I can't seem to ignore it.

The rest of the night passes silently. Faith takes over for Axara, but I refuse to sleep. I'm restless, knowing someone's out there, someone's watching me. The bow is constantly loaded and ready to fire, and I loosen the knives in my belt slightly, ready to use them, too.

When morning comes, I finally agree to go to sleep. Even then, I'm feeling uneasy, rolling around. I wake up, bathed in sweat, and my breathing is labored.

I remember almost nothing of the nightmare, except for the dark forest and the fact that someone is chasing me, they're catching up, and I can't run any faster.

My hand searches for a knife, and with it in my hand, I exit the cave, finding the girls out there, cutting branches from the bushes with their knives.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

Faith turns around at the sound of my voice. "Good morning. We're about to start a fire. We can hardly eat the squirrel raw, can we?"

Oh, the squirrel. I forgot that.

"Okay. I guess that if we're already followed, some smoke won't really matter."

"And the falling snow will hide it."

"You're a genius, Faith." I smile at her, then help them out with the branches.

We start a fire, and cook the squirrel. What Axara holds forward after that makes me frown. It's a salmon.

"We caught it in the stream. It's edible, right?"

"Of course it is, it's salmon after all – ", I say. Then I realize that it's not. "No! Don't touch it!" Scared by the sudden sharpness of my voice Axara lets it fall to the ground.

"Cassie?"

I lean closer to the shimmering fish, and my eyes rake it. What I'm searching for is not easy to spot. It can be almost unnoticeable, and still kill.

I can't find anything on the outside, but I take my knife and cut it up. The flesh is clean reddish like it should be, but in the middle is a tiny prick of blackness.

So tiny, so deadly.

"If you eat that, you die."

They look like living question marks, so I explain about the disease. I see how understanding flashes across their faces, and soon Faith has buried the fish into the frozen ground, preventing any animals from eating it.

"So, you heard anything about the follower since I went to sleep?"

"Umm, no. I think he or she has left, honestly."

"Well, we need to check," I say, and immediately a problem springs into my mind. How? I just can't send Axara in alone, that goes against my sense of right and wrong, but I can't go with her either. We can't leave Faith alone. We also can't take her with us – she can't fight. She's the weakest link in our chain.

So that leaves me one option.

"I'm going in there alone."

Axara protests, of course, but I look at her sternly. "Think it through, Axara. There's nothing else to do."

"I'll come – ", she starts, but I interrupt her.

"And leave Faith alone?"

"No – ", she stops mid-sentence, realizing this is our only way. "Well, be careful."

I take my knives, and the bow and quiver. "I'll be okay, Ax. It's just about twenty meters into the forest, all right? Just don't come in after me – it might take some time. I'll scream if I need help."

She and Faith nod. I can see that they will be waiting nervously for a scream, ready to run.

I take a deep breath, and slip into the dark forest.

The snow crunches lowly under my boots as I walk to the place where we heard the branch snap, my senses on high alert.

There are footsteps on the ground, printed into the snow. Quite fresh – the snow hasn't covered them fully yet.

My eyes narrow, and I decide to follow the trail for a little while, see where it leads.

Suddenly a hand is placed over my mouth, a strong arm wrapping around my waist, dragging me backwards. I scream, but it's muffled into the glove the person is wearing. From what I guess, it's a male – though I can't see him.

I manage to kick him in the ankle, hard, making him stumble and lose his balance, and I struggle to free myself, without success. But at least I injured him, that's positive. From the crunch I heard, his ankle might be sprained.

"Shit," he growls, as he realizes that his ankle can't really carry his weight that well. I don't recognize his voice.

But somehow he still keeps dragging me along, and I kick and fight against his hold, biting the hand over my mouth, but the glove stops me from causing any pain.

He drags me for about ten minutes, and the adrenaline in my body keeps me strong enough to fight. I'm not going to die. I bang my head backwards into his chin, and he grunts. For a second his arm loosens it's grip, and I think that he's finally letting go.

I think twice when I feel cold metal against my throat.

"Stop struggling, Four, or I'll cut that little pretty neck of yours." The voice is as cold as ice, but to my relief it doesn't belong to Drew – anyone is better than Drew.

I go still, but keep my arms hard against his hold, struggling while keeping perfectly still. I feel him nod, and something warm drips into my hair.

Blood, I realize.

His blood.

I probably hit him quite hard in the chin, then.

"That's better, keep still."

He continues dragging me, and I wonder to where. Why has he not killed me yet? Panic suddenly sets in – I will not find my way back in this snow if I manage to escape. An idea hits me, and I can't stop to analyse it. I act.

My body suddenly goes limp in his arms, and he stumbles, surprised. His arms loosen to get a new grip on the heavier form of me, and my elbow shoots out and hits him hard in the stomach, knocking his breath away. A surprised yelp escapes his lips.

I pull myself free, and twirl around to kick him between the legs, knowing that'll hurt. My eyes focus on him as I pull two knives from my belt, one in each hand.

It's the boy from twelve.

I'm actually surprised he has survived so long – the people from twelve are usually bloodbath tributes. But he's about eighteen, strong and muscular, so maybe that isn't so weird.

I stand on my toes, crouched and ready to attack. I quickly analyse him.

He's got strength, so I can't let him catch me. I'm quicker than his big, clumsy body, and I'm good with knives. The odds are fifty-fifty. Plus, he's already injured: a bleeding wound on his chin, and he's limping.

He comes for me, tries to cut me with the knife, but I dodge, quickly stepping aside. He doesn't expect my speed, and stumbles, enough for me to take the chance to cut him. My knife hits his side, but it doesn't go deep. Though, it makes him lose his balance, and he collapses onto the ground. Immediately I see the chance of ending this. My knife flies through the air, but he rolls away quickly, the knife meant for his chest hitting his calf. It sticks there, and I take out another from my belt.

But I underestimate him. He's already on his feet, wincing as his ankle twists. He advances, and I quickly jump back.

Not quickly enough. The knife slashes across my right cheek. I feel that the wound is not deep, barely a scratch, but a burning pain shots through it.

Poison.

Of course, that's genius. Even a small wound will take the poison into your system.

But I can't worry about that now, as he comes at me again. I back, and reach out to dodge the knife. Our knives struggle against each other for a moment, and I break the grip first, bringing my knife down into his stomach. I see him flinch. The poison on his knife is now also on mine – therefore also in his stomach.

"Oh, you think that's funny, little girl? Well, you're dying before me, be sure of that!" He jumps at me, and I stumble. His knife cuts a long line in my left shoulder-blade. Somehow he gets me pressed up against a tree, and keeps my arms still.

"There are some things I need to know before you die. And you better answer honestly," he says, sliding the knife playfully along my neck, his eyes hard. I swallow.

"What did you do to her?"

"To who?"

"Daria! I saw the way you looked at her. It was you who told her to kill herself, gave her the idea, you stupid girl, right?"

"No."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not! I didn't even talk to her once!"

"Liar. Say goodbye to your life."

He presses the knife against my throat, still pinning my arms to my sides. I close my eyes, fear rising in my chest.

I'm going to die.

Suddenly his grip loosens, and I open my eyes in surprise. A sword has been thrust through his body from behind, blood flooding from the wound. His eyes widen, then go glossy, and he falls to the ground, a cannon sounding. The sword is pulled from his body, and I step shakily away from the tree.

The one who saved me looks up, and I meet the brown eyes.

"Andie?"

"A life for a life," is all he says.