OVERHEAD, VIOLET SEEPED THROUGH THE SKY, bleeding the evening colours into the arena, painting the plants and tree trunks in a purple glow.

Of course, Iko knew it was only the Gamemakers' doing. It wasn't a real sky they were looking at. Still, they looked up, because it was something they probably would've done back home. Some things didn't change, after all. Even as they cut through the underbrush, following the static roar of the waterfall, getting closer each minute. None of them were trackers, but common sense led them to believe that trying their luck near a water source to find some tributes to take out would be the smartest move at this point. With night falling quickly, they needed to secure some water as soon as they could before they were in real trouble. Again: two birds, one stone.

"Oh, would ya look at that," Titus mused, jabbing the point of his rifle at something towards their right.

At the base of a tree, an abandoned cargo truck sat, idle as a shelf of rock, with its windshield caved in and its metal frame mangled like it'd been crushed under something bigger. Another vehicle, perhaps, but Iko didn't think it was possible for another vehicle to have done this kind of damage to a truck this big and sturdy-looking. It looked old, like it'd been there for years, untouched and unclaimed in the wilderness that'd begun to grow over it. Moss tinted the faded paint a sickly green.

As they approached it, Iko noticed vines snaking in and out of its windows, around the collapsed roof and over the steering wheel. Titus gave the wheels, which were half-sunken into the ground like the forest floor was slowly disgusting it, a vehement kick. It didn't budge. Sage tapped a finger against the glass, spiderwebbed with cracks. A small piece of broken glass came loose, falling into the driver's seat.

Alex emerged from around the rear, a glimmer of intrigue shining in his eyes as he inspected the useless vehicle. "We should check it. Sage, come with me, I'll need help getting the back doors open."

"What if it's a trap?" Sage asked, brows furrowing. "You never know, it could be booby-trapped."

"Yeah, I don't like the idea of dying on day one either." Titus flicked Alex a defiant look.

Annoyance hardening her expression, Iko shoved him in the small of his back with the point of her rifle. "Get in the driver's seat. Strip the compartments for anything useful." When Titus opened his mouth to protest, Iko sent him a sharp look. "Or are you too coward?"

Titus shot her an incinerating glare.

Unrelenting, Iko arched a brow as she jerked the point of her rifle at Titus, her finger resting lightly on the trigger. "Go on. I'm right behind you."

"Yeah, yeah," Titus grumbled.

Slinging the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, Titus yanked the door open, and it gave suddenly with a plaintive whine, dislodging a clump of moss and snapping a couple vines. Titus heaved himself into the passenger seat, sliding across the cracked leather seats. He had to bow his head low, his legs hanging out through the open door, unable to touch the floor. The front of the truck had been crumpled inwards, and the caved roof made it a tight squeeze. Logically, Iko would be a more sensible choice to do the digging, since she was the smallest one in the group, but Iko didn't have patience for Titus' insubordination. If he tried to challenge Alex one more time, she would put a bullet in his head.

"When this is over, he's my kill," Iko murmured, voice low enough so only Alex could hear as he bypassed her, Sage on his tail.

A grin tugged at the corner of Alex's lips, but he didn't respond. As Titus rooted through the compartments he could get to, Iko heard the ancient groan of the rear doors opening to the cargo hold.

"Anything?" Iko asked, tapping Titus on the heel of his boot.

"Hang on," Titus grunted with effort. There was the sound of compartment flaps clicking in and out of place, a muffled shuffling, and Titus swearing under his breath. And then— "what the hell?"

A furious squeal emanated from inside the truck. And then a brown rodent—the size of a house cat—bolted out from under Titus' legs as the dull thud of Titus' head smashed against the roof of the truck resounded like a muffled gunshot throughout the forest and a ferocious string of violent curses escaped his lips.

Iko stifled a smirk.

"Guys?" Sage called from the rear, her tone tentative, her voice a breath of bewilderment. "You might wanna take a look at this."

Titus wriggled himself out of the front seats, empty handed. Iko shot him a questioning look, which he returned with a shake of his head. They rounded the vehicle towards the back, where Alex and Sage had managed to pry open the doors with great effort. Sweat glistened on their foreheads as they stared at something inside the cargo hold.

"What is it?" Titus asked, coming to stand beside Sage. He peered in, and let out a low whistle.

Inside was empty, but there wasn't nothing either. The transport hold's lack of contents wasn't what Sage and Alex wanted them to see. Along the metal walls that'd been evidently crumpled, claw marks were slashed over the metal, almost shredding it to pieces. Claw marks similar to the ones on the enclosure. Three lines in parallel, scratched over and over and over again like brutal tally marks on the interior. Whatever had been in this truck must've been big, and angry, and it seemed to have escaped. If it was still around, that meant any open area, including the Cornucopia, wasn't safe. They'd need to move camp. Preferably somewhere less exposed.

"We should get going," Alex said, frowning at the darkening sky. "If the mutts are as angry as this one, then we shouldn't be sitting exposed in the dark. We keep going to the waterfall and back to the Cornucopia immediately. Nobody eat the food in their packs yet, just in case we draw something out. We'll continue hunting tomorrow. First thing in the morning."

"Yes, boss," Titus drawled.

So they pressed on. Every time something in the undergrowth made a sound, they trained their rifles on it until the creature stepped into the open, and presented itself as harmless. They happened across so many brightly coloured lizards, varying in size and shapes, scuttling up and down the swollen crests of roots and darting through the ferns, Iko had lost count. Despite the anxiety setting in, they kept to their wits, moving with a more efficient speed, surveilling their surroundings through their peripheral vision. A sharp sense of unease staked into the pit of her stomach. Iko ignored it. As the ground slowly began to slope downwards at a steeper angle, Iko strained her ears against the screaming cicadas and chatter of the strange creatures in the distance, and realised the sound of the waterfall was growing louder.

"There!" Sage exclaimed, pointing towards a cluster of trees. At first, Iko didn't see much. She was about to ask what Sage was looking at, until she squinted harder and noted the rushing white of water thundering down amidst forested slopes. They were looking at the bottom half of the waterfall, shrouded in a veil of mist. They must've been heading towards the edge of the valley, following the river—heading in the opposite direction to the rising current, but following it, no less—that ran away from the thundering water, snaking between the forested hills flanking the deep depression in the earth. As they neared the end of the tree line, the roar of the water was deafening.

Relief flooded Iko's veins. The back of her throat had grown scratchy and dry as the evening elapsed, and darkness began to creep into the forest. Sage and Titus were about to dart towards the river before Alex put out a hand to stop them.

"It's open terrain and it's getting dark," Alex said, gesturing towards the empty embankment that stretched teen feet from the edge of the forest to the hissing river. When he was met with puzzled looks, he sighed. "Go slowly. We can't get too excited."

"We should be quick, too," Iko said, desperate to wash off the blood. Coupled with the humidity, her chest area, where her shirt had been plastered to her skin with blood, had begun to itch. "We don't know who or what's watching, so someone should stand guard if we're thinking of jumping in."

"We'll take turns," Alex said. "Titus and I can take first watch while you two clean up and fill the water bottles. Fill all of them. We'll have to take them back to Opal and Elias."

Tentatively, Sage and Iko stepped out into the open, coming away from the umbrage of the forest, weapons raised, poised to fire. Silence greeted them. No movement on the other side of the river either. As they neared the water, they crouched down by a set of rocks. A beat later, Titus and Alex followed, eyeing the tree line of the forest on the other side of the river through their scopes. When they were satisfied that no eminent threat was ready to present itself, they dug through their packs and procured their empty canteens, unscrewed the lids, and dipped them into the river while the girls splashed water over themselves, scrubbing the blood off their skin.

When all the bottles were filled, Titus dropped a water purification pill into each bottle, and let them sit on the bank in a neat line. Thirty minutes, Iko had estimated, just to be safe. Iko dipped her hands into the cool water, letting the surging tide tug at her fingers. Both girls took off their shirts, not really caring for modesty after an exhausting day, and dipping them in the water for a thorough wash.

The water ran pink for a second and then clear again.

"You done?" Alex asked. His voice was muffled slightly by the gurgling water. Sage gargled a spat out a mouthful of water onto the sandy bank.

Iko wrung her shirt out as best as she could and laying it to dry on top of the rock. "Yeah, we're good."

Unfortunately, Iko's shirt hadn't dried out completely by the time they were done, but at least it didn't smell like blood anymore. Half an hour elapsed, and Alex gave them the green light to drink from their canteens. Iko almost sagged with relief when her dry tongue touched the first sip. Sage chugged half her bottle before going back for more, accompanied by Titus, who splashed her playfully. They got into a semi-competitive water fight before the sky bruised black, and Alex—who'd been leaning against the rock beside Iko, entertained by their childish display—was reluctantly forced to break it up.

By nightfall, they still hadn't found a single sign, or even a trail to lead them to another tribute. When they arrived back to the Cornucopia, they found Opal perched on the bridge suspended over the enclosure, rifle clutched in her arms, while Elias dug through one of the black crates. They had a campfire going in front of the Cornucopia, a bright glow of orange throwing shadows over the campsite. Iko assumed they'd found some flint and steel amidst their abundance of supplies.

"Anything?" Opal asked, hooking her elbows over the railing as she leant over the bridge to peer down at them.

"No," Titus said, sounding a little disappointed, throwing his pack down and flopping down on his back by Elias' feet. Folding his hands behind his head like a pillow, he peered up at Opal. "You?"

"No movement here either," Opal said.

"We found water," Alex said, tossing a full canteen of water up at Opal, who caught it with ease and drained half the bottle in desperate gulps. "We should think about moving camp closer to the river so we don't have to keep trekking there everyday. We don't have to take everything, just whatever we need."

"We could hide the rest of the supplies," Sage offered, helpfully. She'd scaled the watchtower fixed to the side of the enclosure, and joined Opal on the bridge. "Scatter them around the arena in marked locations."

"That could take days," Iko pointed out, dropping her rifle and backpack on the ground by the crate Elias was presently rooting through. "We don't have that much time. And what if we're being followed? We can't guarantee anything."

Sage frowned. Iko didn't budge on her point. If another tribute found their supplies without their notice and had the brains to destroy it all so nobody could benefit from it, the loss could cost them time in the arena.

Wordlessly, she handed Elias two full canteens from her pack before perching herself on an unopened crate.

"Thanks," Elias murmured, unscrewing the lid on one of the bottles and guzzling down its contents. The second bottle, he saved.

Iko dismissed his gratitude with a wave. "Where are we on the supplies?"

Surrounding Elias were four open crates the size of a child's coffin. Two contained an arsenal of firearms, another was filled to the brim with ammunition, and the last one contained what looked like six silver batons nestled in foam casing. Three unopened crates were nestled deeper in the Cornucopia, plus the one Iko was sitting on.

"Those three are all food. We've got about fifty packs of dried meat, ten bags of fresh fruit, and some dried fruit and nuts," Elias said, pointing to the unopened crates towards the back of the Cornucopia. "The one you're sitting on is just all the random bits and pieces we picked up from the backpacks lying around the Cornucopia that the other tributes didn't manage to get away with. There's a fire starting kit somewhere in there. Maybe some flint and steel. Definitely a good amount of rope, some sleeping bags and an extra tarp."

"That's good," Alex said, clapping Elias on the shoulder. Handing Iko a packet of dried meat and a green apple from his backpack, he settled beside her on the crate. As Iko took a bite of her apple, realising now that the sharp pains in her stomach weren't from the exhausting hike or the anxiety that there was something out there they weren't really prepared for, but from hunger, Alex ripped into his packet of dried meat.

Mid-bite, Alex's gaze caught on the silver batons lined up in their neat row in the opened crate. Curiosity sparking in his eyes, Alex reached over to pluck one out from the foam casing. It was about the length of his forearm. He held it before him, letting Iko inspect it too. Back home, they'd only ever seen Peacekeepers carrying these around. Alex turned it over in his hands. There was a button on the handle, and Alex pressed it. A sharp crackle snapped sharply through the air as a bright arc of electricity lashed out from the stem of the baton. Alex almost dropped it in shock, but held onto his composure.

They traded knowing looks. There was a reason these were in the arena. Iko hoped they wouldn't be too unprepared to face it.

"What if we split up?" Titus said, abruptly.

"What?" Sage asked, shooting him a narrow-eyed glance, incredulous. "Now? Isn't it a bit early—"

"I meant the job, dollface," Titus said, dryly. He propped himself up on his elbows, tilting his head back to face Sage. "What if we went two-by-two to scatter the supplies? Say we take two crates each and hide them someplace nobody else would look, but we all know? That would be much quicker than moving them as a group, right?"

"He makes a good point," Opal said, winding the silver chain around her neck around her finger as she toyed idly with the cross pendant. "When we meet back at the river, we could give each other directions in relation to the waterfall."

"Thank you," Titus said, with a melodramatic flourish of hands, exasperation tinging his tone.

Before anyone could argue, the anthem preceding the death recaps blared out, echoing throughout the arena. They fell silent, snapping their attentions to the starless night sky, all too eager to recognise their first kills. When it came to a close, and the first face of the fallen tributes flashed across the darkness, projected like obituaries against the black screen of the sky, Iko stopped chewing to watch. Back home, everyone else would be watching the gruesome playbacks of how all the tributes had died. But here in the arena, they were viewing a separate screen of just the dead tributes' faces. It wasn't actually a projection. Just a screen flown into the arena by a disappearing hovercraft that would be extracted from the arena once this viewing was over—the only form of recognition they would receive before the tide of time washed over the rest of Panem and their names were buried in the ashes of the other forgotten names piled up in retrospect, never to be spoken again, never to be heard of while their families drew their blinds and prayed that the momentary heartbreak killed them before the grief carved their souls out.

One by one, the faces materialised in the sky. One by one, they began to claim their kills. The boy from 3 appeared first. Sage smacked Opal in the arm in excitement, proclaiming proudly, "that one's mine!"

Then, the boy from her own district, his young, sweet face peering down at them, unsmiling. Sage studied her nails, though her expression betrayed nothing. In fact, she looked calm. Relaxed, even. Apathetic would've been the better descriptor.

"Did you know him?" Opal asked, her voice gentle, but not soft.

Sage shook her head. "Probably one of the fishermen's apprentices. He's better off dead, anyway." Nobody claimed that kill. He'd probably gotten caught up in a skirmish with another tribute, and ended up the unfortunate casualty. The next face flashed across the screen and Sage's face lit up again as she pointed up at the girl from 5. "Oh, hey! That one's Iko's!"

"That one's mine," Titus declared, when the face of the girl from 6 lit up the sky.

And then Iko was suddenly looking into the hollow eyes of her first kill. The boy from 6. Dark hair, ice blue eyes, thin mouth. Stroking her knives, Iko smirked in satisfaction. "He thought he could kill me. Idiot."

Then the girl from 7.

Elias ducked his head down.

Iko rolled her eyes at his lacking enthusiasm. Elias had helped with that one, but if he wouldn't act like a Career about it, she'd have to do the job for him. "That one was a two-man job. You should've seen the big guy in action," Iko said, jerking her chin at Elias, who looked up abruptly in alarm. "Took her down while she was trying to pull the trigger on me."

"But Iko killed him," Elias said, stiffly. "Very nice shot between the eyes."

Wordlessly, Iko pulled out a knife from her belt, a vicious number that flashed brightly in the firelight.

Both tributes from 8 materialised on the screen. Iko claimed the girl. Everyone had witnessed Alex shoot an arrow into the boy's left eye socket point-blank. They exchanged small grins.

"That one's mine," Opal said, staring up at the girl from 9. Elias tensed up, his gaze trained intensely on the screen.

"That one's ours!" Alex said, nudging Iko in excitement, when the girl from 11 flashed across the screen. In periphery, Elias seemed to relax slightly. It seemed that the girl from his district had escaped from the bloodbath with her life.

"Nope," Iko grumbled, her skin tingling at the lingering memory of the hot blood the girl from 11 had thrown up on her when Alex's arrow struck through her neck, severing her throat. Her lip curled in disgust. "Just yours, sadly."

Lastly, both tributes from 12 appeared onscreen.

"Girl's mine," Alex said, grinning.

"And I got the boy," Opal added, rubbing the cross around her neck between her thumb and forefinger.

When the tributes' faces dissipate into darkness, replaced by the Capitol seal, another musical number finished before the sky goes dark and the static silence of the forest—screaming insects, distant bird calls, rustling leaves, and the faint roar of the waterfall in the heart of the valley—lapsed over them once more. In the silence, the firewood snapped and crackled. Sparks drifted up from the flickering flames like tiny suns seeking out the abyss of the sky. A manmade sky, but a night sky nonetheless. Iko glanced at Alex, only to find him staring at her. When their eyes met, he turned away, pouring his full attention on his food as he resumed his dinner. Taking a bite of her apple, Iko watched him from periphery. Watched as the firelight gilded his golden hair in a bronze halo, illuminating his bronze skin, backlit and shadow-stitched, the promise of something warm, but not soft.

"We need to find a way to communicate with each other if we're splitting up," Alex said, his voice cutting through the tranquil. "Say we do move camp. Say we take the supplies to different locations. If something happens that prevents us from meeting at the rendezvous point by the river, then we're screwed. We'll be searching blind and wasting time."

"We have flares in the crate you're sitting on," Elias said.

Alex hummed. "Maybe. But say we're in need of discretion—"

"I know a signal," Sage offered, "the fishermen in my district used it while they were out at sea."

But before Sage could demonstrate, a silver parachute drifted down seemingly out of nowhere and landed by Alex's feet. Stunned, they stared at it in suspicion, as though it were a bomb about to blow if they moved a single hair. Until Iko recognised the Capitol seal on the side of the black container attached to the end of the parachute, about the size of a picnic basket. Iko was the first to react, reaching for the container and undoing the clasp.

When she lifted the lid and spotted the six black devices nestled snugly in foam casing to protect them from damage upon landing, she almost laughed at the efficiency of Alex's sponsors. A side glance told her Alex didn't seem to believe it either. Either it was immaculate timing, pure luck, or it was Alex's charm already rooted deep into the hearts of the Capitol. And both Iko and Alex knew they couldn't count on something as intangible as luck.

"What?" Titus asked, impatiently, scrambling to his feet and attempting to peek into the sponsor's gift. "What is it?"

A vibrant grin spread across his lips, Alex pulled out one of the black devices. "Walkie-talkies."

AUTHOR'S NOTE.
idk if this chapter is boring or not but ! some insight into group dynamics! sadly no action :(