Morning arrived with an unnatural stillness.
No birdsong, no rustling of small animals in the underbrush—just silence hanging heavily in the air.
I'd taken the last watch after Rue gently woke me before dawn, and had been tracking the gradual lightening of the forest with growing apprehension.
Unnatural silence usually meant danger approaching.
"Something's wrong," Rue whispered, materializing beside me with such stealth that I nearly jumped despite my heightened alertness.
Her face was serious, dark eyes scanning the trees. "The birds stopped singing."
"I noticed," I agreed, keeping my voice low to avoid waking Madge, who still slept in our shelter after her middle-of-the-night watch. "We should pack up. Be ready to move."
Rue nodded, immediately understanding the implications.
We'd spent two days in this location. A relatively peaceful days of gathering food, improving our shelter, and planning based on Rue's reconnaissance of the Career camp. The Gamemakers wouldn't allow such tranquility to continue. They needed action, conflict, drama to entertain their Capitol audience.
I gently shook Madge awake, placing a finger to my lips—a signal to keep quiet—when her eyes fluttered open.
"We need to move," I murmured. "Something's wrong. Something might be coming. Or we just haven't seen it yet."
To her credit, Madge asked no questions, immediately alert and rising to help gather our supplies. Within minutes, we had packed our backpacks with the essentials; water bottles, food, first aid supplies, sleeping bags rolled tightly to minimize bulk.
"Which way?" Madge asked, scanning the silent forest.
My memory provided only vague details. A fire driving Katniss and other tributes together, forcing confrontation. But the specifics eluded me. Like which way the fire was coming from.
"How about down towards the water?" Rue suggested, pointing toward the stream.
I immediately nod in agreement.
If fire was really coming, we needed as much distance as possible between us, close to water, and whatever ignition point the Gamemakers had chosen.
We moved quickly but quietly through the forest, following the stream downhill. The silence persisted, oppressive in its completeness. Even our footfalls seemed unnaturally muted, as if the arena itself was holding its breath.
We had covered maybe half a mile when I caught the first whiff of smoke—faint but unmistakable.
A glance at the girls confirmed they'd noticed it too, Rue's nostrils flaring, Madge's eyes widening slightly.
"Run," I said simply, no longer concerned with stealth.
We abandoned caution for speed, racing along the streambed where the footing was firmest. The scent of smoke grew stronger with every passing minute, and soon I could see it—a dark haze filtering through the trees crashing behind us, staining the morning light, flames cracking in the air.
The first fireball hit a tree thirty yards to our right, exploding in a shower of burning splinters and igniting the surrounding foliage instantly. Not a natural forest fire, but a targeted Gamemaker attack. Precisely aimed projectiles designed to drive us in a specific direction.
"They're herding us!" I shouted over the sudden roar of flames, warning them. "Toward the other tributes!"
This was classic Gamemaker manipulation: forcing tributes together when the action lulled, ensuring bloody entertainment for the Capitol audience.
If we followed the path they were creating with their strategic fire barriers, we'd end up facing other tributes, likely the Careers.
"This way!" I called, veering away from the obvious escape route they'd left us, cutting across the stream instead of following it.
Another fireball crashed into the ground just ahead of us, blocking our new path with a wall of flames. The heat was intense, scorching my face even from twenty feet away.
"They're cutting us off," Madge gasped, backing away from the flames.
She was right. The Gamemakers were too smart to let us outmaneuver them. They controlled every aspect of this environment; we were mice in their maze, forced to run whatever course they designed.
"Back to the stream!" Rue cried, already turning.
Another fireball struck, this one close enough that I felt the air displaced by its passage. The forest was truly burning now, not just isolated points of impact but spreading flames engulfing trees and underbrush with unnatural speed. Smoke billowed thick and acrid, stinging our eyes and scratching our throats.
We ran with desperate speed, trying not to trip, following the only path left open to us by the fireballs—directly toward where I suspected the Career pack would be hunting. It was a disgustingly brutal calculation by the Gamemakers: force us into conflict or burn us alive. Either outcome would satisfy the Capitol's bloodlust.
The smoke grew thicker, making it hard to see more than a few yards ahead. Rue began to cough, her smaller lungs more vulnerable to the poisonous air.
I pulled the collar of my jacket up over my nose and mouth, gesturing for the others to do the same.
"Stay low!" I shouted through the fabric. "The air's clearer near the ground!"
We crouched lower as we ran, ducking beneath the worst of the smoke. The heat was becoming unbearable, sweat pouring down our faces, our clothes sticking to our skin. My injured arm throbbed with renewed pain, the exertion reopening the wound beneath its bandage.
A massive cracking sound split the air above us. And I looked up to see a burning branch breaking away from its trunk, plummeting directly toward where Madge and Rue were running.
"Look out!" I lunged forward, shoving both of them clear with all my strength.
I heard Rue scream in fear as the burning branch crashed down, catching me across the back and shoulders as I dove forward. White-hot pain seared through my jacket, the synthetic material melting instantly against my skin. I screamed, dropping and rolling instinctively to extinguish the flames, the agony unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
"JAKE!" Madge's voice pierced through the haze of pain.
Her hands were on me, dragging me up, pulling me forward. "We have to keep moving!"
Through a blur of tears and smoke, I staggered to my feet, Madge supporting me on one side, Rue appearing at the other. The back of my jacket was destroyed, hanging in charred tatters, and I could feel the raw, blistered skin beneath. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony radiating from my shoulders and upper back.
"The stream," I managed through gasps and gritted teeth. "We need water."
We stumbled forward together, the girls half-carrying me as fireballs continued to rain down around us, herding us ever onward.
The forest became an inferno, trees collapsing in showers of sparks, the air almost too hot to breathe.
Then, miraculously, the trees thinned, and the welcome sight of more substantial water appeared ahead—not just our small stream but a proper river, wide and deep and promising sanctuary from the flames.
"There!" Rue pointed, her voice hoarse from smoke.
With the last of our strength, we staggered toward the water. I could hear the hiss and crackle of the fire close behind us, feel its heat on my already burned skin like a vengeful presence.
Another fireball struck just yards to our left, showering us with burning debris.
In desperation, we lunged forward together, diving into the river with a collective splash.
The cold water struck my burned back like electricity, simultaneously agonizing and relieving. I gasped, going fully under for a moment before surfacing, the immediate pain giving way to blessed numbness.
"Across," I spluttered as soon as I could speak. "They want us on the other side."
We swam awkwardly, hindered by our backpacks and my injury, but driven by the wall of fire rapidly approaching the riverbank behind us. The current tugged at our bodies, trying to pull us downstream, but we fought against it, stroke by stroke. We were lucky the river was shallow enough for anyone who doesn't know how to swim properly.
By the time we reached the opposite shore, dragging ourselves onto muddy ground beneath overhanging willows, the fire had stopped advancing. It remained on the far bank, a barrier preventing our return rather than pursuing us further. The Gamemakers had accomplished their goal—driving us exactly where they wanted us.
I collapsed onto my stomach, the pain in my back returning in full force now that the numbing effect of the cold water was fading. Every breath sent spasms of agony through my charred skin. Through the haze of pain, I was vaguely aware of Madge and Rue kneeling beside me, their faces streaked with soot and concern.
"How bad is it?" I managed to ask, bracing myself for the worst.
The girls exchanged a glance that told me everything I needed to know.
"Bad," Madge admitted, her voice tight with worry. "But I can treat it if we find shelter and the right plants."
"Leaves," Rue said immediately. "I know which ones help burns. I've seen them here in the arena."
I nodded weakly, fighting to stay conscious through the waves of pain. "We need to move away from the river. Find cover."
"You can't walk in this condition," Madge protested.
"Have to," I insisted, forcing myself onto my hands and knees, ignoring the screaming agony from my burned skin. "The Careers will be coming. The Gamemakers intended this—driving tributes together."
Understanding dawned in Madge's eyes. She nodded grimly, helping me struggle to my feet while Rue scanned our surroundings for immediate threats.
"There's a thicket about fifty yards that way," Rue pointed. "Dense enough to hide in while we treat your burns."
"Good enough," I gasped, leaning heavily on Madge's shoulder.
The journey to the thicket was a blur of pain and will power. Each step sent fresh suffering through my body, but I forced myself to keep moving, knowing that stopping meant death—if not from my injuries, then from the Careers who would inevitably be drawn to this area.
By the time we reached the dense undergrowth Rue had identified, my vision was swimming and my legs threatening to buckle. The girls helped me lie face-down on a relatively soft patch of moss, my ruined jacket peeled carefully away from my burned flesh.
"I need to find those leaves," Rue said urgently. "And clean water."
"Be careful," Madge cautioned. "Stay in the trees as much as possible."
"Always," Rue promised with the ghost of a smile, then vanished into the forest with her characteristic stealth.
Left alone with Madge, I fought to stay alert despite the pain threatening to drag me into unconsciousness. "Check the perimeter," I mumbled. "Make sure we're secure."
"I already did," she assured me, her cool hand resting gently on my forehead. "You're running a fever from the burns. Try to rest while Rue finds what we need."
I wanted to protest that resting was dangerous, that we needed to remain vigilant, but my body overruled my intentions. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, and despite my best efforts, I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness.
The last thing I heard was Madge's voice, uncharacteristically soft with an emotion I couldn't name. "Why did you do that, Jake? Why did you push us out of the way?"
Why is she asking something so obvious? Did she think I would just let them die and save myself? After all I did?
I tried to answer—to tell her it was natural instinct, the same drive that had made me shield Lily—but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I surrendered to the darkness, slipping away from the pain into blissful nothing.
I drifted in and out of awareness for what seemed like hours, catching fragments of reality between periods of fevered darkness. Rue's return. The cool sensation of something being applied to my burned skin. Whispered conversations between the girls. The distant cannon blast signaling a tribute's death somewhere in the arena.
When I finally regained full consciousness, the light filtering through the thicket had changed from morning brightness to late afternoon gold. I was lying on my stomach, my back covered in a layer of mashed leaves that smelled earthy and medicinal. The worst of the pain had subsided to a persistent but manageable throbbing.
"He's awake," Rue's voice came from somewhere to my right.
Madge appeared in my field of vision, kneeling beside me with relief evident in her face. "How do you feel?"
"Like I lost a fight with a blacksmith's forge," I croaked, my throat raw from smoke and disuse. "But better than before. What did you use?"
"Rue found leaves that draw out heat and infection," Madge explained, offering me water from one of our bottles. "We've been applying them every hour. Your fever broke about an hour ago."
I sipped gratefully, the cool water soothing my parched throat. "How long was I out?"
"Most of the day," Rue said, joining Madge at my side. Her small face was solemn with concern. "We heard a cannon during the afternoon."
"Any idea who?" I asked, though we had no way of knowing until the death recap that night.
Both girls shook their heads.
"We've been taking turns keeping watch," Madge said. "No sign of other tributes, but we need to be careful."
I nodded, wincing as the movement pulled at my burned skin. "We need to change locations as soon as I can move. This area will be a target."
"Not until tomorrow," Madge said firmly. "Your burns need at least one night of treatment before you should travel."
"She's right," Rue added. "Moving too soon could make them worse. I've seen bad burns in Eleven when people work too long in the sun or have accidents during harvest. Rest is important."
I wanted to argue that rest was a luxury we couldn't afford in the arena, but the concern in their faces stopped me.
They had spent the day caring for me, applying their combined knowledge to treat my injuries, keeping watch while I was vulnerable. I owed them at least the courtesy of heeding their advice.
"Alright," I conceded. "But we leave at first light tomorrow, no matter what."
They exchanged a glance, then nodded in agreement.
"Are you hungry?" Rue asked. "We saved food from yesterday, and I found some berries while getting the healing leaves."
My stomach growled in response, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since early morning. "Starving, actually."
They helped me sit up carefully, arranging our packs behind me for support while avoiding pressure on my burned areas. The movement was painful but manageable, suggesting the burns weren't as severe as they had initially seemed—or that the girls' treatment had been remarkably effective.
We ate a simple meal of the previous day's leftovers supplemented with Rue's berries. As we ate, they filled me in on the day's events—how they had taken turns gathering water and healing plants, how they had reinforced our temporary shelter to better conceal us from passing tributes, how they had heard distant sounds of movement that might have been the Career pack searching the area.
"You saved our lives," Madge said quietly, her eyes meeting mine across the small space. "That branch would have hit both of us if you hadn't pushed us away."
"You returned the favor," I replied, gesturing to my treated burns. "I wouldn't have made it without your help."
"We're a team," Rue said, as if that explained everything. And in a way, it did.
As darkness fell, we arranged our small camp for the night, with me taking a middle position where my injuries would be best protected. Despite their protests, I insisted on taking a watch shift—the last one, before dawn, when my burns would have had the most time to heal overnight.
"I'm not helpless," I pointed out when Madge tried to object. "And we all need rest. Three shifts make the most sense."
She relented eventually, though not without extracting a promise that I would wake her immediately if my condition worsened or if I spotted any trouble.
The Capitol anthem played as night fully descended, the seal projecting into the sky above the arena. We watched through gaps in the foliage as a single face appeared—the girl from District 8. I felt a pang of guilt at the small relief that swept through me. One more tribute gone, one step closer to the possibility of our survival. The Games were already changing us, making us see death as advantage rather than tragedy.
Madge took the first watch while Rue and I tried to sleep. Despite the persistent pain in my back, exhaustion soon pulled me under. I drifted off to the sound of Rue's steady breathing beside me, a small reminder of normalcy in our abnormal circumstances.
Rue woke me for my watch with a gentle touch on my arm, her wide eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through our shelter.
"How are you feeling?" she whispered.
"Better," I replied honestly. The pain had dulled to a manageable ache, and though movement still hurt, it was no longer the white-hot agony of earlier. "The leaves are working."
She nodded, satisfied. "They need to be changed in the morning. I know where to find more."
"You've been amazing, Rue," I told her sincerely. "We wouldn't have managed without your knowledge."
Even in the dim light, I could see her flush with pleased embarrassment. "Anyone from Eleven would know those leaves."
"Well, I'm grateful anyway," I insisted. Then I couldn't resist but pat her head again. "Now get some sleep. I'll wake Madge at dawn."
She settled down beside the already-sleeping Madge, curling into a small ball that made her seem even younger than her twelve years. Within minutes, her breathing had deepened into sleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the quiet night.
I shifted carefully to a position where I could watch the surrounding forest while putting minimal pressure on my burns. The night was clear, stars visible through breaks in the canopy overhead. Somewhere in this arena, other tributes were hiding, hunting, or being hunted—all of us pawns in the Capitol's cruel game.
Today's fire attack had been a harsh reminder of the Gamemakers' absolute control. They could kill any of us at any time if they chose—a fireball slightly more accurate, a muttation released at the right moment, a section of arena flooded or collapsed. Our survival depended entirely on our entertainment value to the Capitol audience.
And yet, paradoxically, that gave us a kind of power. As long as we provided drama, conflict, human connection that resonated with viewers, the Gamemakers would keep us alive to play our parts. My "star-crossed lovers" troupe with Madge was designed precisely to exploit this dynamic, to make us too valuable to kill off casually.
But what about Rue? She wasn't part of that narrative. In the original, her death had been a crucial emotional catalyst, driving Katniss toward the rebellion that eventually toppled the Capitol. I remembered that much clearly. What would her role be now, in this altered story?
I glanced at her sleeping form, so small and vulnerable yet so remarkably resilient. In just a few days, she had become important to both Madge and me—as a person we genuinely cared about.
When dawn approached, painting the sky visible through the trees with pale light, my silent promise I made to myself a few days ago also grew.
I would do everything in my power to protect her for as long as possible. Even if it meant deviating further from the story I thought I knew. Even if it meant risking the rebellion itself. Or my life.
Because some things were worth fighting for beyond strategy and survival. Some people deserved protection simply because they were themselves. This will be my moral line. This will be my act to keep my humanity from losing it entirely during these games.
A soft rustle of leaves announced the arrival of a silver parachute, floating gently down through the canopy to land just outside our shelter.
My heart leapt—our first sponsor gift! Careful not to wake the girls, I retrieved the small container attached to the parachute.
Inside was a small jar of clear ointment, the sophisticated medical kind only available in the Capitol. The label confirmed what I'd hoped: burn medicine, far more effective than even Rue's herbal treatments.
Attached was a small note from Haymitch:
"For your hard work. Keep it up. -H"
I smiled. My injuries, suffered while saving others, had generated sympathy and, more importantly, sponsor support.
As the first true rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, I slipped the medicine into my pocket. I would apply it after waking the girls, making a show of my gratitude both for the sponsors and for my allies' care.
If we had survived the fire, then we can survive water, earth, and whatever else the arena held in store.
Because we had something the Capitol didn't fully understand and couldn't easily control: genuine human connection in a place designed to destroy it.