Clove's POV

I crouched lower in the bushes, my dark, murky green eyes fixed on the table in front of the Cornucopia. The sun was rising. Any minute now, and my target would come running out into the open.

Cato was waiting a good distance east of me in the woods, ready to cut off any escape route that a fleeing tribute might run for. I would get our bag, and kill my target, and then we'd have a chance. A chance to win this thing, and then we could both go home. Me and Cato. We'd go back to District 2 and live together in prosperity for the rest of our lives. I smiled at the mere thought of it.

But I quickly dropped the sentimental expression. I had to focus. My heart nearly stopped when I saw movement in the Cornucopia, and I nearly leapt from my hiding place when I realized it was only that redhead girl from District 5. She looked terrified, grabbing her pack and sprinting toward the trees. Right toward where Cato was waiting, I thought with a smirk.

But I quickly turned my attention back to the table: I couldn't miss a moment, couldn't be distracted for a second, not with Katniss Everdeen as my target. That girl was fast, sneaky, and devious, and every night, despite my outward nonchalance, I was terrified I'd wake up to an arrowhead piercing through my heart, like what had happened to poor Marvel when all he had done was kill that stupid little girl that Katniss liked.

There she was. Finally, there she was. After days and days of tracking her down. Katniss Everdeen, District Twelve, the girl who killed Glimmer and Marvel. Cato and I had been plotting the various ways we could kill her ever since she got that 11. We had promised to give the audience a good show, whoever got to her first. And there she was. I emerged from the trees, selected a knife from my jacket, took aim, and chucked it at her.

She must have heard it, because she blocked it with her bow. Then she turned and shot at me as I ran toward her and threw another knife, which would have hit her square in the face but she ducked and it only gave her a shallow slice across the forehead. I dodged away from the arrow's path, but it hit my left arm. Pain jolted through me, but I ripped it out and kept running.

I caught up while she was getting her precious little parcel, and I launched myself at her and tackled her. The stupid girl wasn't strong. I had her pinned under me in seconds. The warmth of success flooded through me as I grinned down at her. "Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?" I asked. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato," she snarled. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Peeta!"

Crap. I jammed my fist into her windpipe, very effectively cutting off her voice. Was Peeta out there? I quickly looked around. No one. Then I remembered. "Liar," I said with a grin. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it."

I opened my jacket. It was lined with an impressive array of knives. I carefully selected an almost dainty-looking one with a cruel, curved blade. "I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show." She struggled pathetically. "Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally . . . what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?" I asked. "Now, where to start?" I examined her. "I think . . ." I mused, "I think we'll start with your mouth." I teasingly traced the outline of her lips with the tip of the blade. "Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?" I asked tauntingly.

Then all of a sudden, I was yanked off Katniss into the air by strong, unforgiving arms. Oh nononono. I screamed as loud and horribly as my voice would allow. It was Thresh. He threw me to the ground, his face showing no mercy. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?" I scrambled backward on all fours, like a frantic insect, utterly terrified and panicked that this wasn't going as planned. "No! No, it wasn't me!" "You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Another thought brought a fresh wave of rage to his features. "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?" "No! No, I —" I spotted a stone in his hand, about the size of a small loaf of bread. I made the connection, and lost it. "CATO!" I screamed, "CATO!" I started to cry, cornered against the cold metal wall of the Cornucopia, seconds away from death as I stared up at the giant in terror.

His eyes grew wide as the tip of a sword suddenly stuck out from his chest. The rock fell from his hand, and when the sword was yanked back he stumbled and fell, barely missing me. Cato stood behind him, white as a sheet, his sword now dripping with blood. His eyes were blazing, blazing with a defensive anger that meant he was out for blood. He turned, noticing Katniss frozen on the ground beside him. He raised his bloody sword, and in three violent and frighteningly swift motions he stabbed her in the stomach, chest, and neck. Then he threw his sword to the ground and slowly turned toward me.

"Did he hurt you?" His voice was dark and angry, and I could see him shaking. "No," I whispered in fright, tears still streaming down my face. He knelt beside me and I had to resist the urge to shrink back, the light in his eyes still bloodthirsty and nearly demonic. But his touch was gentle, and in a moment I was wrapped in a strong, comforting hug, as three cannon booms echoed across the sky. "I'm glad I ran here after I killed that redhead chick, I caught a glimpse of Thresh heading here and figured there could be trouble." His voice had managed to reduce to a gentle whisper, and I was glad he had managed to cage his violent rage. "I'm glad too," I whispered back, still shaking uncontrollably.

"We're going to go home, Clove," he whispered, moving so his forehead rested against mine, "There's only Peeta left and without the medicine here, he'll die very soon." My lips managed to curve into a little smile, the sheer terror of almost getting beaten to death beginning to wear off, and he kissed me, holding me tightly in his lap now. "We're going home," I echoed after a moment, the reality of the fact just now sinking in. We really had made it. We were going to get out of here.

A little while later we were walking through the trees on our way back to our little camp, and Cato knelt down by a small stream nearby to wash off his wounds, half of which I had no idea where he got them. "Hey, look," I pointed at a small cave a short distance away, where a faint glow could be seen. We started walking toward it, and as we came up close I realized it was Peeta in there. But the second I caught sight of his blonde head, I jumped when a cannon boom fired. Cato and I exchanged confused looks, and we went to investigate.

Peeta Mellark lay on the floor of the cave, pools of blood all over the floor and his leg obviously badly infected. In his hand was a small amount of dark-colored berries, which I recognized from the poisonous list in training. "The idiot, he dies from berries and not the nasty sword wound you gave him earlier," I tsked, sighing at the patheticness of it all. Cato chuckled to himself, picking up the berries and looking at them in amusement.

"Nightlock. Stupid git. Well, I guess we—" He broke off when a voice rang out across the arena. "Attention, attention tributes. The previous revision, allowing for two victors of the same district, has been…revoked. Good luck!" For a second I wasn't sure my ears were functioning correctly. But judging by Cato's expression, I hadn't misheard. "Wait, so…" "I have been afraid of this moment the entire time we've been here." Cato's voice was bitter and hoarse now, as he stared daggers at the space in front of him.

He drew his sword, and suddenly I was filled with confused fear, my fingers subconsciously going into my jacket to grab a knife. But he offered me the hilt of the sword he held. "Do it for me, would you? It'd be a good deal cleaner and less painful." I merely stared at him in revulsion. "Cato, I'm not going to kill you!" My words sounded crazy in my own ears. If I wasn't going to kill him, I was signing my death sentence. But I couldn't. Not now. Not after all our time in the arena together, fighting for each other's survival, and not after everything we had been through together in our lives before this, back at home.

"Clove," he exhaled. "No," I said stubbornly, "I won't do it. There's got to be some other way." He even laughed, a sharp laugh devoid of amusement and filled with resignation, as he stared down at Peeta's dead body. "Some other way. Nope, all I see is death. That's always been the only way hasn't it? Didn't know that till now." "I'm not going to kill you." "Well I'm not going to kill you. So we better do something quick before the gamemakers throw something nasty at us."

This just made me angry. The gamemakers! They had gotten our hopes up, that we'd be able to both go home. "Screw them. We'll do what we want." I grabbed his hand, and took some berries from it. "Let's just both die, in the same pathetic way as Loverboy here, and let them deal with having no victor instead of two." Cato stared at me as if I had said the most alarming, strange thing ever. "But… they have to have a victor. It should be you, Clove. I want you to go home." "And live life knowing I let you die? How about no. I will eat these berries, Cato, and you'll have to kill me to stop me."

I raised them to my lips, but instead of restraining me, he just stood there, watching me with unusual emotion in his pale eyes. And after a moment, he raised the berries to his mouth as well. "Stop! Stop!" A panicked voice cried over the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen…may I present the winners of the 74h Annual Hunger Games…"