CHAPTER EIGHTEEN;
under the camouflage

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( warning: graphic gore/injury detail )

     In the first decent night's sleep she has had in days, Vesper's dreams are foggy and indiscernible.

     She sees herself on a beach, sand stretching for miles in every direction as the waves crash onto the shore. The wind blows through her scalp and rustles her hair, cleansing her of the suffocating swamp climate she has grown used to. She finds herself wandering towards where the sea meets the shore, more curious than ever.

What might she find that she cannot yet reach?

As she draws nearer, a figure standing ankle-deep in the water catches her attention. His head is hung slightly low, but not completely dropped as he appears to stare out into the boundless horizon. It is as though he wants something more, somewhere else to be, but something is holding him back. She can't think why. Out there is somewhere peaceful, somewhere better for him, she figures. But he still stays by the shore.

Vesper opens her mouth to say something, to implore who he is, but stops herself. She feels her heart drop. He is not recognisable completely, but somehow the chill that runs over her spine tells her it is who she feels it to be. The figure turns around and stares at her with tired eyes, just like the rest of his frail body. She doesn't need to ask further...

"Dad?" she whispers.

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"Vesper?"

     Feeling the coolness of a shadow looming over her, Vesper forces her eyes to open. Her shoulder blades ache dully from rolling around on the raft as a bed all night. When she adjusts her vision, she makes out Levin standing over her, face darkened by shadow and a blade in his hand— wait, a blade.

     Her eyes pop wide open, a sudden surge of adrenaline surging through her as she lunges for her machete, but before she can grab it Levin places his boot on the blade. This is it, she thinks for a terrifying split second. This is the moment he turns on you, just like Dale warned you.

Instead, he dangles a couple of minnows by their tails in her face.

     "Hey, relax! I was just fishing... you're not that keen to kill me, are you?" Levin chuckles as he says it, but there is a tinge of uncertainty in his voice that immediately makes Vesper feel guilty. In this situation, she feels as though Irma and Dale are an angel and a devil on her shoulders — Irma would encourage her to get the most out of the alliance, whereas Dale would tell her to keep her guard up and trust no one except herself and Icarus.

Upon first instinct, she checks to see where Icarus again, and to her surprise finds him awake. He seems somewhat content getting a small fire going as best as he can after the rain, and gives her a weak smile when they make eye contact. It's a look that says Relax, I'm okay.

"Are those minnows again?" Vesper asks, trying to divert from the sudden tense atmosphere from before.

"Yeah," says Levin. "Unless you'd prefer frogs, that is."

"Honestly, I don't know what I prefer anymore. Food is food. Did anything happen while I was asleep?"

"Nope, no one's dead. Yet."

Vesper goes quiet, and Levin seems to clock what she might be thinking. Still, he narrows his eyes at her, like a question that pleads her to speak her mind.

"It feels too quiet," she admits. "Apart from those mutts yesterday, it feels like nothing has happened. And we still haven't seen the Careers yet."

"Why, are you missing Boaz?" asks Levin sarcastically.

"God no. But... I don't know, I thought we would have run into him by now. At least once." Truth be told, Vesper doesn't like having Boaz off her radar. She felt more at ease when she could see him publicly despising her every day. At least she could track all of his moves. Why hasn't he hunted she and Icarus down yet? He may be detestable, but one thing Boaz is not is stupid. The lack of a run-in is making her paranoid. Especially after the confession he made to Caesar — with that kind of revenge for motivation, it would not surprise her if Boaz would happily kill a kid like Icarus without batting an eyelid... all the more reason to be cautious.

"Maybe it's the swamp?" Icarus offers innocently. "Not everyone can build a raft. It could take ages for them just to get around the arena."

"True, but I feel like the Gamemakers wouldn't let things go stale for that long," Levin says, then looks up to the sky in contempt. "The Capitol need to have their fun at some point."

The lack of conflict isn't the only thing bothering Vesper. As they cook minnows over the small fire, she reluctantly starts to mull over her dream from last night. Only shards remain in her memory, but she remembers crystal clear the strong presence of her father being there. She knows that if she could see him again, just once, it would make her world. Yet in that moment, she could barely bring herself to look at him.

"Are you okay?" Icarus eventually asks her, whilst Levin is stamping out the fire. "You look kinda... thoughtful. I guess I'm just used to you doing stuff, not zoning out like I do."

Vesper sighs. "I had this dream last night," she murmurs to him. "I can't remember all of it but it felt so weird. And... my dad was there."

"What was he doing?"

"Nothing. I have no idea."

"Well, maybe it's a sign of something? What do you think it means?"

"I think it means I need to drink more water and sleep more," Vesper scoffs. Still, there is a lingering emptiness from the dream that still haunts her, and she wishes she could shake it off.

The trio come to the decision that they should get moving again, following Vesper's doubts about quietness. As they are surrounded by shallower waters, they first wade through ankle-deep with the raft being dragged in tow behind them. She has forgotten how laborious this could get — her soles sticking to the muddy ground, slowing each small step into a mammoth task.

     It must have been about twenty minutes of walking, the water now creeping up their shins and almost at their knees, when Icarus stops and stares at a tree trunk.

     "Look at that tree..." he murmurs.

     "Icarus, now's not the time to be sightseeing, we need to keep moving," Vesper insists.

     "No, look at the tree trunk," he says. Trudging through the thick waters, Icarus points to a small hole in the tree. At first Vesper wants to dismiss it as some natural mark, but then she stops herself. Something inside the hole catches a ray of sunlight, almost blinding her with its radiance. Surely nothing naturally in this swamp could produce such a clear reflection?

     Her curiosity piqued, Vesper approaches the hole too, crouching and squinting to peer inside. As her shadow obscures the sunlight from the hole, she is able to see a glass covering masking some small mechanic inside.

     "It's a camera."

     If the feeling of being watched by the Capitol hadn't hit home before, it certainly has now. Vesper suddenly imagines the sickening image of lavish Capitol people watching her right now, pointing acrylic nails at their screens and laughing at her face so close to the lens. She didn't realise their way of monitoring tributes in the arena could be so obvious.

     "Do you think they can see us right now?" Icarus asks her.

     "I don't know, and I don't care. They can watch all they want and get their show."

     "No, not the Capitol... I meant back home," he clarifies innocently. Something in him softens, a sudden homesickness which spreads contagiously to Vesper. She doesn't want to imagine their loved ones watching them at home. It hurts too much.

     Before she can answer, Vesper finds herself distracted by the sloshing of water behind her. When she turns around, she finds Levin pacing back and forth, his eyes locked on the tree trunk with a look of disturbed fascination on his face. Vesper and Icarus exchange a blank look, then blink at the boy. Maybe he has well and truly lost it from the poison ivy rash.

     "... What the hell are you doing?" Vesper asks, more puzzled than anything.

     "The lens follows you," Levin claims. "If I walk this way, it follows me. Watch."

     Surely enough, as Levin walks to his left, the lens noticeably turns in its nook to track his movements. It is only subtle, but not she cannot unsee it.

This discovery seems to set off a strange giddy energy in Levin. He starts walking back and forth more briskly — at least as much as he can through the water — to see the lens jitter between his movements. Then Icarus intervenes, catching the attention of the camera's tracker, and he grins cheekily as it now tracks his movements instead. Levin soon steals it back, murmuring a mockingly ominous "You follow me now..."

     Vesper shakes her head slowly, but feels a smile threatening to surface. It feels like the rare bit of comic relief they have salvaged since being in the arena. Besides, if the Capitol can have their fun, why can't they too? Although the thought does cross her mind, right as she joins in the charade herself, if Irma is somewhere out there questioning their sanity. Perhaps she and Finnick are sharing vexed and equally embarrassed looks, wondering how they will get sponsors for these dimwits.

     But right now, for a split second, it feels like they are invincible. Boaz could come storming through the trees and Vesper would happily take him on...

     That's when a cannon fires.

     It is louder than Vesper has ever heard it before — an ear-splitting crack of thunder, shattering their fragile happiness that was so fleeting. In an instant, she feels the most intense rush of fight-or-flight adrenaline she has felt in days.

     The three of them share equally worried looks. Vesper has no idea whether the volume of the cannons indicate how nearby the death was; if that is the case, it also means the danger cannot be too far away either.

     The rude wake-up call prompts them all to ready their weapons — Levin removes his sword from his sheath, Icarus loads an arrow to fire and Vesper grips her hands tightly around the handle of her machete. Moving in a slight triangle formation, Levin at the front and the pair from District Six either side of him, they advance uneasily through the water, searching for the source of the cannon.

     "Can you see anything? Any mutts, Careers?" Levin whispers.

     "I don't see anything... can you hear anything?" Icarus whispers back.

     "It's just weirdly quiet for me."

     Now knee-deep in water, Vesper grimaces at the feeling of her lower half being submerged again. She means to look down and hope that any sudden deep holes she can spot first. Instead, she finds herself staring at darkened water — tendrils of dark crimson curl through the murky water. Just upon seeing it, Vesper can suddenly smell and taste metallic blood.

     Following the trail, the threads of crimson get larger and larger, until they are spread into full clouds of blood. Above the clouds, now only a few metres away, lies the source.

     It takes a moment for Vesper to realise it is a human body, for it is so well camouflaged. When she draws nearer, she can see the time taken to disguise herself in camouflage paint, so she almost appears to be the water's surface. Her mane of thick, curly brown hair frames her painted face as if it were pondweed. Upon closer inspection, Vesper knows exactly who it is — a memory flashes through her mind of the girl when she was still lively, swirling green colours onto her skin...

Twyla, the girl from District Eight.

     "I remember her. The girl with the paint," Icarus murmurs sadly. "She seemed nice."

     "How did she do that camouflage so well?" Levin asks in awe.

     "Well, however she did it, clearly whatever got her saw right through it," says Vesper.

Using the flat side of her machete as a probing stick, she awkwardly slides it under Twyla's back, since the source of the blood seems to be her stomach. Once hoisting it above the water's surface, she is seized with instant regret while Icarus gags in horror — her torso has been left in a giant mess of raw flesh, some of her intestines trying to surface through. Before the image can permanently burn itself in her memory, Vesper staggers back and lets Twyla's stomach drop with a splash back into the water, the rest of her body sinking slightly with it.

"What did that look like to you?" Levin asks shakily.

"A damn mess, that's what it looked like," Icarus whimpers, sounding rather nauseous.

"I don't think a human could have done that. It looked too all over the place, and I swear there were teeth marks..."

"So if that was a mutt," says Vesper uneasily, "I think it has to be a lot bigger than those snapping turtles."

Swallowing thickly, Levin nods. They need no further persuasion to abandon Twyla, board the raft and paddle swiftly away from the scene — whatever that thing is, Vesper would rather not meet it any time soon. Glancing over her shoulder as she paddles, her gaze keeps falling on the floating girl in the water, motionless until the hovercraft arrives. From afar, Vesper observes as the giant crane descends into the treetops and lifts her limp body towards the sky.

     Something aches inside of her. Hypothetically she shouldn't be rooting for anyone, since it counters the survival of her and Icarus. Still, something about seeing Twyla dead makes Vesper feel a pang of sadness. Twyla had seemed like the kind of tribute who could silently go far — although she had still made a good try, especially when it seems she did it alone. She was always so humble, never boasted about herself...

     Vesper hopes it was quick in the end for her.

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At the end of the afternoon, upon finding another place to rest for the night, Icarus seems determined as he grins his bow and arrows tightly. She can tell by the way he doesn't immediately sit to rest, like he usually does when they find a place to camp. Vesper is tying up the raft when he asks the question.

     "Can I hunt this time?" he asks, wringing his hands around his bow. Icarus makes it sound as though he is asking a strict parent if he can go play outside. "You won't have to worry about me. I'm getting really good at shooting now. And I won't do anything stupid, promise."

     Vesper studies him carefully, noting his eagerness, before sighing. She sometimes forgets how capable Icarus can be, when she lets him. If she were the kid in this situation she knows she would be frustrated. "Alright, fine," Vesper agrees. "Just be careful. And look out for snapping turtles."

     "Yeah, I know, I won't go near any bushes this time..." Icarus already has his back turned to her, halfway through loading an arrow into his bow and wading through water. Still, she can't resist watching out for him until he is entirely out of sight.

Alone with Levin, she starts scanning the ground for stray twigs to use for a small fire, as well as chopping at branches. As always, the swamp is alive with an ominous chorus of wildlife — and yet she can somehow hear Levin judging her silently. Is that even possible? While he is stalling she keeps on foraging, every now and then scanning the swamp for Icarus, until he eventually does his small inhale; a usual precursor to him saying something.

     "I'm sure Icarus is fine, you know," Levin finally says.

     That's it? Vesper thinks, puzzled at the simplicity of his statement. Although something tells her he is holding back, whatever it might be.

     "Sure. But still, he can only do so much."

     "You do worry about him obsessively though. I mean, you talk about nearly dying like it was nothing, but the moment a feral turtle tries to eat Icarus you drop everything?"

     "I think anyone would worry if a feral turtle tried to eat them," Vesper jokes. Once she sees Levin's unchanging expression, though, she shrugs sharply. "He's a friend. Why wouldn't I want to protect him?"

Silence stretches out between them again. What a weird conversation. Shaking it off, Vesper gets back to work, starting to assemble sticks to make a fire. She assembled the twigs in a small teepee, then finds another stick. She sticks it between the stack and starts rubbing it between her hands — however, Levin's inquisitive gaze is still burning holes in her periphery. Uncomfortable with the attention, Vesper clenches her jaw and glares up at him.

"Sorry, it's just... you do know only one person comes out of here alive, right?" Levin asks slowly.

"Thanks, genius, I didn't know that."

"So your plan is what, exactly?"

Vesper sighs through her nose. I can't believe I'm telling him this, she thinks to herself, right as she opens her mouth. "Look, I made a promise back home to someone very important. My best friend, and Icarus's brother. I promised that I would bring him home no matter what. And I intend on keeping that promise, in whatever way possible. Does that make you happy?" More riled up now, she starts rubbing her hands together faster.

"Why?"

The twig snaps. Reeling from the whiplash of his answer, Vesper chucks the broken twig pieces to the side and glares at Levin.

"What... what kind of question is that?" she stammers, folding her arms across her chest.

"I don't know. It's just that you don't strike me as the all-sacrificial type." Now Levin is stammering too, with wild hand gestures to accompany it. "Just think about this for a second. What happens when you get to the end of the Games together, if you even get that far? What will you do then? You'll just take your own life for him without a second thought?"

     "I'll figure it out," she hisses, standing up now. Vesper feels heat rise across her chest, flushing up to her cheeks in blind agitation as her nails dig into her palms. Axel's words echo through her head: Don't make promises you can't keep. "What is it about you people? You think I can't do this or something?"

     "I think you haven't thought this through, and it's gonna backfire on you."

     "Why do you care? It's not like we're friends, or anything —" Vesper ignores the way Levin flinches and carries on "— I mean, really. Get a grip, Levin! Do you not remember where we are? We are just allies in the arena. And soon, the inevitable will happen where we split apart and never see each other again, before it gets too complicated. You can do what you need to do, and I can do what I need to do. None of this matters."

     "Oh, so if none of it matters, you could just kill me right now if you needed to," Levin snaps, dropping his sword to the ground and holding his hands up in surrender. "Why not? You'd be one person closer to getting Icarus out."

     Vesper shakes her head slowly at him. He can't be serious. Her blood begins to boil with rage, at no one in particular it feels, but she tries to swallow the brunt of it so she doesn't end up yelling. She refuses to blow their cover because of some stupid argument with Levin.

     "What makes you think you know me so well?"

     "Oh, I don't know, maybe because for an 'ally' you sure told me a lot of personal stuff," Levin fires back, looking away as if looking at Vesper offends him personally somehow. "All I'm trying to ask is that you think about the possibility of this going south. If you pin all your hopes on this, it's going to hurt so much more if he doesn't make it."

     "Don't say that, I'll find a way—"

     "Why are you doing this?" he asks incredulously. "All of this angst, putting so much onto this plan. So you can become some kind of hero?"

     "Because I'd never forgive myself if I let the alternative happen again!"

     It takes a few moments for Vesper's brain to catch up with what came out of her mouth. Levin blinks at her, also doing a double take like she is. She had never even planned to say that. Where did it come from? Did it even mean anything? The District Four boy opens his mouth to ask something, but she tiredly shakes her head in response. She's had enough of this for one night, and maybe the rest of the ones she'll ever have.

     "Uh... guys?"

     Vesper's heart lurches, like she has been caught doing the worst possible deed. Behind them Icarus is standing, clutching a few dead frogs in his hand, and staring uneasily at the pair of them. How long has he been there? Half of her wants to explain everything, to reassure him, but the more dominant voice in her head demands her to brush it all off. This never happened, this never happened, this never happened.

     "We're just... making a fire," Vesper mumbles half heartedly. She grabs a new stick and starts rubbing it again.

The rest of the evening is soured by the overheard argument. Icarus seems reluctant to talk, and Vesper is pretty sure she scared Levin off. When she stamps out the already-weak fire, Levin offers to keep watch tonight, but this time she refuses. She just doesn't know how comfortable she feels being asleep after everything she just told Levin — or more like what he told her.

Vesper waits until the other two have drifted off to sleep, until the Capitol fanfare blasts in the sky. As predicted, a hologram of Twyla's sincere face blankets the sky, but no other deaths accompany her. Once it has vanished, Vesper tries to calculate the number of tributes left, but loses count. The days and people are blurring into one here.

Now, left alone with her thoughts, she reluctantly mulls over what she blurted out earlier on. It had been like a spurt of air escaping her lungs, voicing something in her subconscious she wasn't even aware was grading her down. The words echo in her mind, over and over:

Because I'd never forgive myself if I let the alternative happen again.

Vesper had never consciously considered why she was doing all of this. All she knows is that she couldn't imagine not trying. Icarus is, and will always be worth it. Still... it's the 'again' that haunts her. It isn't that she doesn't know what she was referring to — in fact, Vesper thinks she knows exactly what she meant by it, and it gives her heartache.

It's just that she doesn't know if she is ready to admit it to herself.

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A/N;

well, some stuff sure went down in this chapter 🤭 what do you think was meant by the ending with what vesper blurted out? don't worry if you don't know, it was meant to be kind of cryptic because even vesper doesn't truly understand her own feelings... as usual. *sigh* poor vesp.

also a quick question: how do you guys feel about the pace of the arena chapters? it has been hard to feel inspired for a while, but because due to certain reasons 👀 i'm feeling a bit more inspired now! sorry if these first arena chapters have been somewhat slow and uneventful, i guess it kind of mirrors the way vesp/icarus/etc are feeling? but i promise bigger things are coming... no, seriously, hold onto your butts.

anyway, as always thank you for reading and i hope you have a lovely day/evening!

[ published: 10th march, 2022 ]

— Imogen