Chapter 1: Giving Up Everything
At last, I thought, a chance to give up everything for Katniss. But as I sprinted down the narrow stairway, I loathed myself for giving myself up to save the baker's son. You do not infiltrate the Capitol, rescue its most valuable prisoner, and expect to get out alive.
The stairway ended and I found myself at the entrance of a long, dark passageway. The air was damp and thick with the promise of mold. I checked the time—ten minutes until the hovercraft would depart for District 13, with or without me. I squinted in the darkness, searching for signs of life, listening for human breathing. And then I caught it—a faint moan not far down the passageway. I crept toward the sound, thankful for my soft footsteps learned from years of hunting.
"Peeta?" I whispered, "Is that you?" I heard no reply and chanced a few more words. "Peeta, it's Gale. Are you down here?" The sharp intake of breath and a thin cry. I traced my fingers along the wall until they found a bar, and then another, and then the locked handle of Peeta's cell. I slipped a lockpick into the handle and wrenched the door open. Eight minutes.
"Peeta, I'm getting you out of here, but we have to go now," I whispered into the darkness. I sensed movement to my left and froze at the sight of the emaciated boy. Where is the baker's son who impressed all of Panem with his strength? Peeta lay curled into a ball against the wall of his cell. He turned his head to gaze up at me with wide, terrified eyes. I sank to the ground beside him.
"Peeta…" I began, but I was lost for words.
"Are you really taking me home?" he whispered, his cracked lips barely moving. I nodded.
"You… you'll need to… Here, let me help you up," I offered. Peeta laughed softly.
"They took my leg. I can't walk." Sure enough, the prosthetic leg that he had worn since his first Games had been removed, exposing Peeta's stump beneath the shreds of a pant leg that appeared to have been ripped away. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to recompose myself, to postpone the horror of Peeta's state for just a few more minutes. How much time? Seven minutes? Six?
I took Peeta in my arms and carried his worn body into the passageway. As I started off in the direction from which I came, I froze at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Peacekeepers! Suddenly, the passageway was flooded with light. I dashed off in the opposite direction, praying that there would be an exit on the other end. Peeta was light in my arms. At the end of the passageway, I surged through a door and found myself in a large, matted room, lined with tables of weapons. I recognized it immediately from the mandatory television recaps of the Games: the training center.
With the peacekeepers closing in on me, I lay Peeta down and seized the nearest bow and arrows.
"Drop your weapon and give up the prisoner," demanded one of the peacekeepers as they closed in on Peeta and me. Could I kill a man? Shooting game was natural. Illegal, as I knew better than anyone, but forgivable. To hell with forgiveness. I launched three arrows in quick succession, taking down the peacekeepers cleanly through their hearts.
Three minutes. "We're going to make it, Peeta," I encouraged him as I scooped him back up into my arms and took off toward the door. I carried him down another passageway and at last toward sunlight. There was the hovercraft, soaring into view. There was the ladder, just yards away. I raced for it with all of the speed that I could muster, giving the last of my strength, for Katniss. As soon as my fingertips grazed the first rung, electricity seized my body, gluing Peeta and me to the ladder as it gracefully swept us into the sky.
And there was the pain between my shoulder blades, swift and sharp, lodging itself in my back.
First fanfiction—please review! (It will only take a moment and it will mean a lot to me.) Many more chapters to follow. Thank you so much for reading!