patchwork promises - (hot girl summer, day 2)

[august vance d7b [Bella]]

In the end we followed Vera as she pushed through the skeleton ranks, opening them up just enough for us to break through and fight them from the higher ground. Vera’s boldness lit something up inside me, a confidence that convinced me we could burn these skeletons to the ground despite the gaping wound and searing pain in my leg. Lucia and I finished them off with our best effort, shouting defiant battle cries as the bones grew still and lifeless again, one by one. We were like a force of nature, three girls together, spitting insults in the face of death.

In the silence that followed, a gentle wind blew through the sand and covered the scattered bones, reclaiming them. It was almost enough to make me wonder if those skeletons had actually been real, if it weren’t for our wounds, and how tired I felt from heaving this weapon around. With the sun just beginning to set, and the heat subsiding, it was strangely calm. But it also felt like we had earned it.

When the gray parachutes come floating down from the sky, two of them nearly falling right into my lap, I manage to smile through the pain in my companions’ direction. I tear open the packages eagerly–one holds a small tube of healing ointment, and the other has a pop-up tent that seems to be big enough for the three of us. I hold my breath in amazement as I turn them over in my hands. Who would have thought that I–a broke, skinny country girl with a training score of 4–would get sponsored?

”Guess we did pretty good, huh?” I grunt, unable to contain the gush of pride that shines through my face.

–

We walk a little longer before setting up camp, hoping to put some distance between ourselves and whatever restless souls were animating that bloodthirsty skeleton horde. When it’s all set up and we’re finally cozied in, I collapse on the floor of the tent. Out of the three of us, I’m clearly the worst off, and with the adrenaline gone from my body, I’m hurting. Stretching out my injured leg, I start to clean out my wound with some water from my pack and a clean-ish strip of cloth I’ve torn from my excessive costume. The cut is so deep it’s barely bleeding; the pale fatty tissue stares back at me instead. Well, that’s a part of myself I’ve never seen, I think as I clench my teeth, picking the last few stubborn bits of sand out of my gaping flesh before covering it with some of the ointment.

It’s clearly going to need more than bandages. ”Either of you want to show off your sewing skills?” I ask my allies hesitantly, dreading the needle more than the wound itself, for some reason. ”Sorry I’m not much help right now. I guess I need to work on my defense,” I add with a weak smile.

I hold a roll of bandages between my teeth as the needle pierces my skin. When it’s all over, I lay on my back and watch the sky through the tent’s mosquito-net roof. It’s eerily quiet; no anthem, no faces in the sky. The counter on the robots’ stage will stay the same tonight. Were we the only ones who got attacked? Or maybe the death count last night was enough to satisfy the Gamemakers for the time being? Whatever the reason, I feel it doesn’t bode well for tomorrow.

Here it comes again, that anxious sensation when night is falling. I take deep breaths, try to keep this worry deep down in my chest so it won’t show on my face in front of my friends. Every night here is another step closer to the end, whatever that means or looks like. Maybe it’s the pain making me dizzy, but everything is starting to feel slippery again. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve felt like this. Like I’m sitting in the center of one of those playground merry-go-rounds–I stay in place while the centrifugal force of the universe pulls everyone I care about away from me.

”I was thinking…” I start, and my voice sounds froggy, so I clear my throat and start over. ”That was some scary shit back there, with the skeletons. You two were amazing, like some kind of warrior princesses or something.” I huff a nervous laugh, feeling silly, but I continue. ”I know that only one of us can survive, and maybe it’s stupid to make promises… but until the end, I want to take care of each other like we did today. You know?” I swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat. ”If it weren’t for you two, I’d be skeleton food right now, so… Well, would you want to make a promise? What do you say?” I raise my canteen in a toast. “Until we’re the last ones left.”

[kaitlin]

[andromache s. ⚔️ [d1b] sucy]

The bones collapse around us, still clinging to their sinew sticky armour and the first thing I do is laugh. It's an awful sound that doesn't sound like me at all; something deeper lies beneath what otherwise could be mistaken for my regular snicker, a more rumbly undertone. I crouch down, crack one of the bones away from the metal plates and flip it in my hand. It's not as heavy as I thought it would be. Muscle is the meat of us. I lob the gritty, sand covered thing as far as I can fling it. It makes it all the way over the crest of the next sand dune.

I look back at the girls. My girls. Nori's beaming. Accomplishment shines through her eyes. It's making up for the lack of blood leaking out of her leg. The cut's too deep to be anything good but somehow she's standing. That's all that counts.

"Guess we did pretty good, huh?" she says. I agree. A smattering of grey parcels bob down from the sky, all labelled for me. Alright, Theo Horner. Maybe you're not too bad after all.

...

When we sit down, huddled up in Nori's festival tent, I rip open the packages. The first three are just what I wanted to see: armour. Kinda dorky armour, but beggars can't be choosers. I fasten the bicycle helmet on straight away, pose with it for the others. Anything to bring some levity to the situation. I've got a bad feeling about the fourth package. I leave it aside, and decide to take Nori up on her offer instead.

"Shut up," I scold. She's ridiculous, I think. Sitting here, trying to put herself down like this night could realistically get any worse. She's got her leg wide open in front of me. Leg, singular, wide open. Like, hello? "You battered the hell out of those things. Just gimme the needle." I nudge Lucia. "You mind holding the... edges together?"

I get to work, though I do it with squinting, blurry eyes. I don't want to look at her leg too closely. Even with the two halves of the skin pulled together, it's still nasty. I'm no Marceline. In fact, when it comes to sewing skills, I'm probably the weakest out of all of us Jeons. Still, I'm a District Eight girl, born and raised, so I've got a leg up on Nori in that respect.

"Watching my sister last year," I say, before I can stop myself. The words leak out slowly, but I can't keep up with them no matter how hard I try. They just keep tumbling out. "She sewed herself up, across her cheek, and somehow managed to still look good. How does that make sense?"

The needle is dulled from the sewing, but it's just about useable a second time. I give it back to Nori, tucking it into her palm. I warn her, "Don't you dare thank me."

I scoff when she calls us warrior princesses, nod along to agree that yes, the skeletons were scary. I can see she's getting emotional, and just looking at her face is enough to get me started too. I roll my face away, focusing on a blank piece of tent wall as I listen. She reminds me of my sister. My younger one, the remaining one. When we split, back in Eight, before the Reaping, I felt like she was saying the same things to me as Nori is now, with her big, wet eyes. Her nose was all scrunched up from the effort not to cry. With a weary smile, I push myself back into a seated position.

"Hey, Nor, I think you know we're in the same boat. Without all of us there today who knows how it would've gone?" I reach across, and squeeze her hand. It's awful to be so vulnerable, but I broke the seal yesterday already. In the back of my mind, I can't help thinking that I was the weakest in the fight today. Not gonna admit that out loud though. I'm not that brave. Not like Nori is. I use my other hand to squeeze Lucia's knee, then let go of them both to get out my canteen. I lift it up.

"Until the end. It's us."

[kaitlin]