Chapter 1 (End of Catching Fire)
"Katniss? Katniss!" My throat raw from shouting, my mouth dry with panic. Where is she?
"Peeta?" Oh thank goodness, she's alive… but where? I start running back through the forest, as fast as my artificial leg will carry me. I must find her before the lightning hits the tree. Stumbling back into the lightning zone, I curse whoever it was who cut the wire, my mind too overwhelmed with Katniss' voice as she calls out my name to think back to who it might have been. Johanna sprints past in the opposite direction, her hands covered in blood that is not her own. What has she done? Chaff tumbles down the hill in front of me, slipping on some wet leaves and rolling down another few feet until he hits a tree.
Panting, he struggles to get to his feet as Brutus comes barrelling down the hill after him, a long knife clutched in his hand. Brutus slashes out with the knife and Chaff falls down again, blood spurting up the trunk of the tree behind him. He stabs, and Chaff falls still- then he turns to face me. I draw my own knife from my belt and run at him screaming, plunging the blade into his gut before he has chance to think. Leaving my knife buried deep in his bulging stomach, I run onwards to find Katniss, desperation haunting me as time ticks onwards.
The earth explodes, bursting into flames. Dirt and plants rain down around me, the electricity travelling through the ground hitting my body and making my hair stand on end. As I fall to the floor I continue to shout out for Katniss, but my ears are screaming and I can't feel anything except pain- I don't know whether any noise is coming out at all or if it's hidden by the sound of explosions still going off in the forest. My ears still ringing, my head heavy, I try and push myself up, but my body is frozen again. I am trapped.
I still shout for Katniss, but I'm not sure if I'm even trying to say it or if it's all in my head. Either way, her name is the only word my mind knows.The sky too bursts into flames, more explosions and smoke filling the air. Sparks from the fireworks blossoming above me fall to the ground around my head, hot ashes landing on my wetsuit and burning holes in the already shredded material. Why are they setting off fireworks? Are we all dead? Have they killed Katniss? Or are they just trying to cover up the fact our plan destroyed the arena?
A hovercraft appears above me, blocking out the fireworks. A claw slides under my limp body and carries my skywards, but I'm not dead. Am I the last one alive, the victor of the games yet again, but without Katniss at my side? Something in the back of my mind leaps forward again, something from the Quarter Quell announcement, "… a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the capitol…" Of course, they never intended to have a victor. I suppose that's just as well that it's ending this way because if it wasn't then we'd all come to a bloody and painful end, like Wiress and Brutus and Mags.
As I rise, my head flops to one side and I see another hovercraft not too far away, lifting another tribute from the arena. Her head hangs off the edge of the claw, a long brown braid trailing behind her. Katniss. Even from this distance I can see that her eyes are wide open, her entire body unmoving.
My heart falls through my body, out of the claw and lands in the burning forest below as realisation sets in. All this for nothing. All my sacrifices for what? Katniss to end up getting killed in Beetee's stupid plan. Why didn't we take off while we had the chance, escape from the alliance while we could?
I enter the hovercraft and the claw drops me roughly onto the floor, then is lowered back outside to fetch someone else. The face of President Snow materialises over me as I lie motionless on the floor, paralysed by shock. I curse inwardly- it must be serious if Snow himself is here instead of Plutarch. President Snow winks down at me and rests his fingers on my eyelids, pulling them closed over my still-seeing eyes.
Rough hands take hold of me and lift me from the floor, placing me on a not-much-comfier bed which is more like a table on wheels, and jabbing me in the arm with something sharp. The sounds around me go fuzzy and fade as I lose consciousness, the pain vanishing as I fall farther away from reality.
When I wake, I am strapped to a slightly more comfortable bed in a gleaming white hospital room. My body no longer aches and is devoid of scars. I panic as I feel the tightness of the rough fabric straps holding me down, feel the familiar itch of tubes sticking into various parts of my recovering body. I look around for Katniss, looking closely at the two unconscious figures in the other beds- the first I recognise as Johanna, her tanned skin pale and her hair hanging limp beside her far-too-aged looking face. Enobaria occupies the other bed, looking mostly fine but for the usual cuts and scrapes people obtain in the arena. There is one other bed in the room, across from me. It's empty.
My heart aches as I realise Katniss is not here, as I consider again the likelihood of her death. Tears prick at my eyes and I can't wipe them away. They trickle down the sides of my face, salty waterfalls of sorrow forming pools on the flat pillow under my head.
Snow enters the room and leans against the end of my bed, his back to me. I spit at his back before he can turn around, and hit him directly in-between the shoulder blades. He rests his hands on the white metal bar at my feet and talks, mostly to himself but also to me.
"You'll be pleased to know that Katniss Everdeen is alive… just about. Of course even in her declining mental state and with her inherent lack of physical strength, she has already managed to cause trouble. You might be interested to know that your… fiancé… is now with the rebels, plotting against us here in the Capitol and prepared to do whatever it takes to get her way. In fact, by destroying the force field in the arena in order to save herself, she has not only landed you here… which will prove invaluable… but also caused the bombing and complete destruction of District 12." My mind is numb, barely understanding what he tells me. I can't form a reaction to what he says but he doesn't seem too bothered, merely telling me to get some rest before he leaves the room as silently as he entered it.
I am determined that Snow is wrong, that the destruction of 12 is not Katniss' fault. Satisfied that she is alive, my mind focusses on what he said about me being invaluable as the drowsiness returns and I drift back away from the land of the living.
