liberty

THE AIR was heavy with the jungle's oppressive humidity, its symphony of chirps and rustles providing an uneasy backdrop to the stillness of their camp.

Finnick and Johanna had finally succumbed to exhaustion, their heads tilted at odd angles as they rested against a makeshift bed of weaved mats. Liberty sat beside them, watching their steady breathing for a moment before deciding she couldn't let herself sleep—not yet.

She stood quietly, brushing sand from her legs, and made her way over to Peeta. He was perched near Beetee, who remained unconscious but looked markedly better than when they'd first pulled him from the blood-soaked jungle. Peeta was wringing out a damp cloth, gently dabbing it over Beetee's pale forehead.

"How's he doing?" Liberty whispered, crouching beside him.

Peeta looked up, offering a small, tired smile. "Better, I think. His breathing's steadier now."

Liberty nodded, her gaze lingering on Beetee's prone form. "You've been keeping a close watch."

"Figured I should," Peeta said, shrugging slightly. "Not much else I can do right now."

"You're doing plenty," Liberty assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder before standing. "Get some rest soon, okay? We need you sharp."

Peeta gave her a faint smile, his expression grateful but unconvinced.

Leaving him to his vigil, Liberty turned her attention to Katniss and Wiress, who were sitting a short distance away. Katniss was staring intently at Wiress, who was murmuring under her breath, her hands compulsively tracing patterns in the sand.

"Tick, tock," Wiress whispered, over and over, her voice an eerie chant in the stillness.

Liberty approached, crouching next to Katniss. "She's been saying that for a while now, hasn't she?"

Katniss nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "It started after Johanna got her out of the jungle. I thought it might just be shock, but..."

"There's something about the way she's saying it," Liberty said, watching Wiress closely. "It's not random."

Katniss tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing as she replayed Wiress's words in her mind. Liberty could almost see the gears turning behind her expression.

"Tick, tock," Wiress repeated, her fingers drawing an invisible circle in the sand.

Liberty's eyes followed the motion, and something clicked. "She's drawing a clock."

Katniss straightened, her gaze snapping to Liberty. "A clock?"

"Yeah," Liberty said, her voice gaining momentum. "Look at the way she's moving her hands—she's tracing a circle, over and over."

Katniss stared at the ground, her eyes darting between Wiress's gestures and the jungle around them. "Tick, tock," she murmured, the words taking on a new weight. Her eyes widened as the realization dawned.

"The arena," Katniss said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's a clock."

Liberty blinked, the implications settling over her like a cold wave. "You're saying it's divided into sections? Like hours?"

"Yes," Katniss said, her tone urgent now. "Each section is a trap—something horrible. The blood rain, the fog, the monkeys—they all happened in different zones at different times."

Liberty ran a hand through her hair, her pulse quickening. "That explains the precision. It's not random chaos—it's timed."

Katniss nodded, her eyes blazing with determination. "If we figure out the patterns, we might be able to predict what's coming next."

They shared a glance, a mix of understanding and resolve passing between them.

Liberty reached out and touched Wiress's hand gently, her voice soft. "You figured it out, didn't you? Tick, tock. The arena's a clock."

Wiress's murmurs faltered for a moment, and she looked up at Liberty, her eyes clearer than they had been since the blood rain. "Tick, tock," she said again, but this time, there was a faint smile on her lips, as if to say yes, you understand now.

Katniss rose to her feet, her hand instinctively reaching for her bow. "We need to tell the others."

Liberty nodded, her gaze lingering on Wiress for a beat longer before standing as well. "This changes everything."

As they moved to rouse Finnick, Johanna, and Peeta, the jungle around them seemed a little less daunting. They were still trapped, still hunted—but now they had a piece of the puzzle. And in the arena, knowledge was power.

Katniss and Liberty quickly but carefully moved toward where Finnick and Johanna lay. Finnick stirred first, his sharp instincts waking him at the faintest sound of footsteps. His hand immediately went to his trident, but when his eyes landed on Liberty and Katniss, he relaxed.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his face.

"Nothing yet," Katniss said, her tone clipped but urgent. "But we figured something out. The arena—it's a clock."

Finnick froze for a moment, his brows furrowing. "A clock? What are you talking about?"

Johanna groaned and rolled onto her side. "Why are you two scheming when people are trying to sleep?"

Liberty crouched beside her, nudging her shoulder. "Get up, Jo. This is important."

With a dramatic sigh, Johanna sat up, her hair wild. "This better be worth it."

Katniss launched into a quick explanation, detailing Wiress's mutterings and how they'd realized the arena was divided into sections, each with its own deadly trap activated at specific times.

Finnick's expression darkened as he processed the information. "So, every hour, a new horror is unleashed?"

"Pretty much," Liberty confirmed, crossing her arms. "It explains the fog, the blood rain, the monkeys—all of it."

Johanna frowned, her sharp eyes darting to Wiress, who still sat near Beetee. "And she figured this out? Nuts is smarter than I thought."

"Smarter than most of us," Finnick muttered, his voice tinged with respect.

Peeta, who had been quietly listening from his spot beside Beetee, spoke up. "If it's a clock, that means there's a pattern, right? Something we can use to stay ahead of whatever's coming next?"

"Exactly," Katniss said, her voice firm. "We need to watch the sections carefully and figure out the timing. If we can anticipate the dangers, we might have a chance at surviving this."

Johanna rubbed her temples, the gears in her mind turning. "So, what's the layout? How do we figure out where we are on the clock?"

Katniss glanced at Liberty, who nodded. They walked over to Wiress, and Liberty knelt beside her again. "Wiress," she said gently, "can you help us? Do you know what section we're in now?"

Wiress's lips trembled, and she whispered, "Tick, tock. Tick, tock." Then, she raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the horizon.

Liberty followed her gesture, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of what Wiress was indicating. "The tree," she murmured, her gaze landing on the massive tree at the centre of the arena. "That's the anchor point, isn't it?"

Katniss nodded, catching on. "Each trap starts at the tree and radiates outward, like the hands of a clock."

Finnick joined them, his expression was grim but focused. "Then the lightning strike at the tree is the marker for twelve o'clock."

"Exactly," Katniss said. "If we can track the time based on that, we can stay ahead of the dangers."

Johanna stood, brushing sand off her pants. "Great. So, we've got a murderous jungle organized like a clock. How do we stay alive until the Capitol decides they're bored and blows us all up anyway?"

"We outthink them," Liberty said, her voice steady. "If we know their game, we can turn it against them."

Finnick's gaze softened as he looked at Liberty, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "She's right. We've made it this far by being smarter than they expect us to be. Let's keep doing that."

Peeta stood as well, his face set with determination. "Then we keep watch. We mark the traps as they happen and figure out the safest path through this."

Katniss nodded her bow in hand. "We don't have much choice. It's us or them."

The group exchanged a glance, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as a spark of hope lit within them. They were still trapped in the Capitol's nightmare, but for the first time, they had a roadmap—a chance to survive.

As they began to strategize, the jungle around them seemed to hum with anticipation, as if it, too, knew the game had changed.

Beetee's body lay still as Peeta approached, his steps deliberate and cautious. Despite his condition, Beetee stirred faintly, his lips moving as if forming a word. "Wire," he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Peeta crouched beside him, his tone soothing. "She's right here, Beetee," he said, glancing at Wiress, who sat a few feet away, humming her quiet tune. "Wiress is fine."

But Beetee's brow furrowed, and his hands twitched weakly against the sand. "Wire," he insisted again, his voice hoarse but insistent.

Johanna, who had been pacing nearby, stopped with an exasperated sigh. "Oh, for crying out loud. I know what he's on about," she said, striding across the beach with purpose. She bent down to retrieve the cylindrical object they'd removed from Beetee's belt earlier when cleaning his wounds. The wire spool was crusted with dried blood, its metallic sheen dulled. Holding it up between two fingers, she sneered. "This thing. This worthless little contraption. He got himself sliced open for this? I don't even know what kind of weapon it's supposed to be. What's the plan, Beetee? Tear off a piece and strangle someone with it? Like you're some kind of arena assassin?"

"It's not just a wire," Peeta interjected firmly. "He won his Games with it. He used it to set up an electrical trap that took out a whole group of tributes. It's the best weapon he could have."

Johanna's sharp eyes narrowed as she turned to Katniss, who was watching the exchange.

"Seems like you'd have figured that out already," Katniss said, her tone pointed. "Since you're the one who nicknamed him Volts."

Johanna bristled, her jaw tightening as her glare hardened. "Yeah, real clever of me, huh?" she shot back icily. "Must've slipped my mind while I was busy keeping your friends alive. What were you doing again? Oh, that's right—nearly getting my own friends killed."

Katniss took a step forward, her expression hardening.

Johanna, ever defiant, squared her shoulders. "Go ahead," she dared. "Try me. I don't care if you're knocked up—I'll rip your throat out."

The tension crackled like a live wire until Finnick's smooth voice cut through. "Maybe we should all watch where we're stepping," he said, his eyes flicking between the two women. He moved closer, his hand brushing the coil from Johanna's grip and setting it gently on Beetee's chest. "There's your wire, Volts," he said lightly. "Just be careful where you plug it in."

Liberty caught Finnick's gaze, his subtle nod speaking volumes. She nudged him gently, her voice low. "Yeah, we should probably keep moving. Let's go."

Peeta, visibly relieved by the de-escalation, hefted Beetee into his arms with a grunt. "Where to?"

Finnick glanced toward the Cornucopia, his expression thoughtful. "I want to take another look at it. If this arena is running like a clock, I want to be sure."

"And we need more weapons," Liberty added, the practicality of her suggestion earning quick nods of agreement.

The group moved down the narrow strip of sand, their eyes scanning the dense jungle and the open beach for any signs of danger.

"The Careers wouldn't be hiding out at the Cornucopia, would they?" Peeta asked after a moment.

Finnick let out a low chuckle. "Not a chance. We've been parked at the beach for hours. If they were planning an ambush, we'd know by now."

"And they're not exactly subtle," Liberty added. "If they'd claimed the Cornucopia, we'd see a banner or hear a parade."

Johanna snorted at that, her lips quirking in a half-smile. "Or they'd be putting on a show. Sparring, maybe. Like in Liberty's Games."

Liberty shot her a sidelong glance but didn't take the bait. "You take the chance when you get it," she said simply, her tone resigned but calm.

The Cornucopia was deserted when they arrived, its once-pristine golden surface now streaked with blood and grime. Only a scattering of weapons and supplies remained, the pile looking as ravaged as the tributes who'd fought for it.

Peeta laid Beetee gently in the shade of the massive horn. "Wiress," he called softly. She darted over with surprising speed, her hands clutching the wire spool. Peeta gestured toward the water. "Can you clean it up?"

Wiress nodded, scampering to the surf. As she worked, she began to hum a quiet song, the nonsensical melody looping as she dunked the wire repeatedly.

"Not the song again," Johanna groaned, flopping down onto the sand. "I swear, she hummed that for hours before the tick-tocking started."

The group's banter was cut short when Wiress suddenly stood bolt upright, pointing toward the jungle. "Two," she said clearly.

Liberty's eyes followed her finger. The creeping fog had begun to emerge, curling like ghostly fingers onto the beach. "She's right," Liberty said, her tone urgent. "It's two o'clock, and the fog's starting."

"Like clockwork," Peeta murmured, shaking his head in amazement.

Wiress returned to her song, now with a slight smile, while Beetee stirred against the Cornucopia. "She's more than smart," he rasped, his voice gaining strength. "She's intuitive. Like a canary in a coal mine."

"A what?" Finnick asked.

Katniss explained the grim purpose of the bird, and Johanna snorted. "Let me get this straight. You bring this bird to die so you don't? That's your big strategy?"

"It sings first," Katniss corrected. "If it stops singing, you know you're in trouble, And if it dies, so do you,"

The exchange was heavy, but Finnick shook it off, nudging Liberty. "Let's see if there's anything useful left," he said, gesturing toward the weapon pile.

The two sifted through the remnants, Liberty eventually pulling out a pair of sleek, balanced spears. "Perfect," she muttered, testing their weight with satisfaction.

Nearby, Johanna let out a triumphant laugh, hoisting two battle axes with deadly curves. "Oh, these are beautiful," she said, twirling one experimentally. "And they match my sparkling personality."

Liberty chuckled. "Careful. You don't want to scare off all the enemies at once."

"Speak for yourself, spear queen," Johanna shot back with a grin.

Finnick followed her gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You and your spears," he teased, walking over to them and taking one from her hand. He inspected the shaft, giving it a quick spin in his hand. "Not bad. Solid balance."

Liberty rolled her eyes. "Coming from the guy who carries around a glorified fork."

"A fork that's saved your life more than once," Finnick countered with a wink, handing her back the spear.

"Touché." Liberty twirled the spear experimentally, the weight familiar and comforting in her hands. She crouched to examine another, her focus sharp.

"Found your soulmate yet?" Johanna called from a few feet away, her voice laced with mockery as she rummaged through the pile of weapons.

"Working on it," Liberty shot back without looking up. "What about you? Still searching for something sharp enough to match your personality?"

Johanna snorted, pulling out a gleaming battle axe with a dramatic flourish. "Oh, I think I've found it." She twirled it expertly, the sharp axes gleaming in the sunlight. "Hello, beautiful. You and I are going to have some fun."

Finnick chuckled as he picked up another spear and handed it to Liberty. "You're terrifying, Jo."

"Thank you," Johanna said with mock sincerity. "You're not so bad yourself, Finnick. For someone who spends most of his time flirting with fish."

Liberty barked out a laugh, standing and hefting the spears over her shoulder. "That's rich coming from someone who spends half her time insulting people just to make friends."

Johanna grinned, pointing her axe at Liberty. "Hey, it works, doesn't it? You're still here."

"Barely," Liberty quipped, earning a laugh from Finnick.

As they returned to the others, Finnick and Liberty carried the spears, while Johanna twirled her newly acquired axes with a smug expression. They found Peeta crouched beside Wiress, who was still singing her odd little song about the clock. Beetee, now propped up against the Cornucopia, looked more alert than before, though still pale and weak.

"We're armed and ready," Finnick announced, setting the spears down. "If this arena throws anything else at us, at least we won't be empty-handed."

"Nice axes, Jo," Peeta remarked, nodding toward Johanna.

She grinned. "You like? I call them Pain and Suffering."

Liberty rolled her eyes. "Very subtle."