Slowly Annie becomes aware of her surroundings, but that awareness is not reassuring. It's hot and it's humid and it smells of the sea, salty and tangy, but the sky that should be a brilliant blue is instead a deep and deeply unsettling pink. Frowning, she looks down at the platform on which she stands; it's just large enough to accommodate her feet with only bare inches to spare. Dazzling water surrounds her, reflecting the sun in a blinding glare. The light itself feels as though it weighs her down.

That's when everything comes crashing in – hearing her name called; Mags volunteering, collapsing, dying before she ever took the stage; Finnick reaped; the blur of training, bonding with the other victors, knowing that most would be dead soon; she and Finnick saying their vows to each other less than twenty-four hours ago; waking this morning in his arms and the promises he made, reassurances that there was a very real chance they might both make it out of the arena alive. Hope and terror vie for her reality and she has no idea which will win out in the end or if she'll slip sideways into her own mind and lose everything.

Raising a hand to shade her eyes, Annie shifts, looks around at the arena. The countdown had ended long since, the gong sounding the beginning of the Games, but half of the other twenty-three people in the arena with her still stand on their plates, surrounded by that glittering water, deep and dark, waiting to drag them under. Annie shudders. She hasn't done more than splash in the shallows at home since her Games. Unlike those around her, she knows very well how to swim, but she can't bear the thought of entering that salty lake.

"You have to," she tells herself aloud. The nearest land is a narrow strip at least thirty feet to her right; whether she goes to the jungle that surrounds the lake or to the Cornucopia on its island in the center, she has no choice but to swim or to die. She turns toward that island where the Cornucopia glints beneath that too-bright sun and she squints, bringing the alien, insect-like thing into better focus.

There! She'd know that bronze hair and athlete's body anywhere. Finnick and a girl with a bow in her hands and a dark braid over her shoulder circle the horn together, disappearing on the other side. Her Finnick has found his "girl on fire." He's alive and Katniss Everdeen is alive and the rebels' plan must surely be alive.

Movement to Annie's left catches her eye as a man lowers himself to sit, feet dangling in the water, but makes no move to leave his plate. Katniss' district partner. Finnick told her that Peeta Mellark is just as important to their plan as Katniss herself, if only because Katniss won't move forward without him.

Taking a deep breath and forcing her demons – near constant companions for the last five years – back into their dark hole, Annie closes her eyes. "You can do this, Annie," she whispers and dives into the water, cool silk where it touches her skin. Focusing on the feel of it and not on the roaring in her ears – inot real, not real/i – she strikes out for Peeta. He may not know how to swim, but she's strong enough to swim for them both. She hopes.

xXx

Everything is green. The soft ground. The rocks and roots that lie beneath the surface loam. The vegetation and the light that filters through it. Even the air feels green. And wet.

Sweat drips from Annie's scalp, trickling through her hair and into her eyes, tickling its way down her face and neck, between her shoulder blades, between her breasts. So much moisture, but nothing to drink. Hours trudging through the jungle in what she is sure are Gamemaker-induced circles and no water anywhere save for the salt around the Cornucopia. None of them are foolish enough to drink that, at least not yet. But if they don't find fresh water soon, as they grow more desperate for anything to quench the thirst…

She concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to be mindful of those roots and rocks even as ahead of her Peeta trips, his artificial leg betraying him once more. She takes another step and catches his elbow, steadying him. Chaff stops and turns and when he sees them standing there, he starts back toward them, but Peeta waves him off.

"I'm okay. Keep going." He glances at Annie, searches her face, no doubt seeing how much she's fading. "We need to find water."

xXx

One. Two. Annie feels each cannon boom reverberate through her body. Three. Four. She lifts her hands, desperately covers her ears. Five. Six. Seven. It does no good. She still hears them, still feels the sound rising up from the ground and raining down on her head long after it stops.

"Please. Not Finnick," she begs – the Gamemakers, Snow, whoever will listen, even though she knows it's already done. "Please."

xXx

She stumbles. Falls. Stares stupidly at the ground. Her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and her blood boils beneath her sweat-slick skin.

"Annie." A strong hand grips her arm, fingers digging in. She blinks sweat from her eyes.

"Finnick?" she asks before she can stop herself, but she knows that's wrong.

"No, Annie. Peeta. I'm Peeta."

She pushes up from the ground, helping him to help her to her feet. She stares into worried blue eyes in a pale face. No, not Finnick.

"We'll camp here." She turns her head and focuses on the dark-skinned man with only one hand and it takes her a moment to dredge up his name from her memory.

"Chaff," she croaks, her attention drifting once again to the deep green foliage beyond him, to the gray-brown dirt beneath their feet, to the shaft of sunlight piercing the canopy of green above. iAre we in a clearing?/i

Dust dances in eddies within the beam of light, sparkling like flecks and flakes of gold. Movement in the trees and undergrowth catches her eye: a large, rat-like creature trundles along the edge of the clearing, sniffing and snuffling. To her left, Chaff and Peeta discuss water. Annie hears her name, but doesn't turn, doesn't move to join them. Instead she stares intently at the vegetation along the rat's path. iThere has to be water here somewhere…/i

Frowning, Annie takes a step forward, sticks and leaves and rocks crunching. The rat skitters away, scrabbling rapidly up the nearest tree and Annie looks down at her feet, where there's nothing but soft, sandy dirt.

Everything snaps into focus as adrenaline rushes through her, temporarily washing away the disorientation. With renewed energy, Annie springs toward the trees and her fingers close in a vise grip around a thin wrist. She yanks hard and the woman screams, trying desperately to pull free, to return to the camouflage of the trees.

"Annie. Let her go. She's a friend."

Staring at the sallow-skinned woman in her grasp, gray-streaked brown hair a wild corona around her face and huge brown eyes darting back and forth between Annie and Chaff, Annie abruptly releases her and steps back. The woman runs to Chaff and he puts his arms around her as she pushes her face against his chest.

"One of the morphlings," Peeta says.

"Her name is Linna," Chaff responds. "She's one of ours."

xXx

Annie sits at the edge of the clearing, watching Peeta and Linna draw shapes in the dirt while she weaves a rope from the vines that all but drip from the trees. The fibrous vines, lumpy where she stripped off the leaves, feel nothing like the ropes Finnick used over the years to teach her to tie knots, but the motion of her fingers calms her, makes her feel closer to him, wherever he is. He can't be dead. She'd know. Wouldn't she? The memory of the cannons earlier that afternoon makes her shudder and clench the vines more tightly. She jumps when Chaff hunkers down in front of her and hands her something that looks like damp cardboard.

"Suck on this," he tells her and Annie blinks.

"Excuse me?" Dropping the half-formed rope to the ground, she tentatively takes the thing Chaff offers as he grins at her and winks and she feels laughter bubble up in her throat.

"Tree bark. There's water in it. Enough to survive on, I hope." Frowning suspiciously at the drops of moisture along the edge, Annie gingerly takes the bark. "You might have to chew on it a little," Chaff tells her. "Soften it up."

The bark is rubbery, sponge-like, and when she bites down, a burst of tepid and earthy-tasting water bursts over her tongue. She's never tasted anything so sweet.

xXx

The air grows no cooler with the sunset; the jungle traps too much humidity beneath its canopy for that. There's no breeze at all and Annie feels sweat trickle down the back of her neck and into her collar.

Hoping to cool her skin by even half a degree, she runs her fingers through her hair, the feel of it since she cut off its length still a little weird. How many times had Finnick twisted it in his fingers, braided it into one thick rope down her back or dozens of thinner cords to lay scattered across her shoulders? But her hair is gone, now, and for all she knows, for all that she believes she iwould/i know, Finnick might be gone, too.

The thought hits her like a knife thrust into her heart and she gasps at the pain of it, lifts her hands to her head, covers her ears as if that might keep both the memories and the fears at bay.

xXx

The anthem of the Games rings out over the arena, and try as she might, Annie can't force the sound out of her ears or out of her head. The faint light of those stars that are visible in the darkening sky directly above the clearing disappears as the phantom light of the combined seal of Panem and the Games fades in, somehow centered in the space. She bites her lower lip and lets her hands drop, wraps her arms around her knees and stares up at the sky, rocking back and forth. iPlease please please…/i

The music rises to a crescendo, pauses, holding the note, and then it fades out as the light above changes and a face forms.

She stiffens when Chaff lays his hand on her shoulder, sucks in a deep breath when Peeta slips an arm around her waist. Linna scoots in close, too, and the four of them huddle together as the faces of the dead play out in the sky above: Gloss from District 1, Hamilton from 5, Trayn from 6 – Linna whimpers and buries her face in her hands – Woof from 8, Rye and Kasha from 9, and Sanga from 10.

Suddenly Annie can breathe again, even as guilt washes over her when Chaff moves away to comfort Linna on the loss of her district partner. Annie closes her eyes. Seven dead, but none of them Finnick, and all she can think is ithank you thank you thank you/i. It's not until Peeta squeezes her shoulders that she realizes both that she said it aloud and that he feels it, too.

xXx

She has wandered through the jungle for what seems like days. Everything looks the same – trees, vines, exposed roots to make footing treacherous. A cloying mist weaves through it all, whispering ihe's gone... you failed him… you'll never see him again…/i The mist smells faintly of roses, of blood, of rotting vegetation and something harsh and metallic.

"Finnick, please! Where are you?" she calls, her voice ragged and torn, but the only answer comes from the voices in the mist. Still she searches, never stopping, endlessly calling for him.

A cannon speaks, punctuated by low laughter and Annie wakes, shouting Finnick's name.

"It's okay, Annie. Just a storm. Go back to sleep."

"Finnick?" she asks, groggy, still half trapped in the clutches of the dream.

"No. Peeta." She hears him shift and then he moves into view, keeping an eye on their surroundings even as he steps closer to where she lies. The sky lights up overhead, a world-encompassing strobe. There is no answering thunder, but Annie's sure this is what woke her.

"Lightning," she says. "Not a cannon."

Peeta shakes his head. "No cannons. The first bolt hit a tree, though, so maybe that's what you heard." He glances toward Chaff and Linna, curled together a few feet away. "You should go back to sleep, Annie. I'm good for a while longer."

She nods and settles back down on the ground as another streak of lightning splits the sky. She doesn't think she'll be able to fall back to sleep again, isn't sure she wants to, but Peeta is right, she should at least try.

xXx

Sitting at the edge of the clearing, a little away from the others, Annie adds more vines to the rope she'd started the day before, working them in almost seamlessly. She doesn't know how long she wants it to be, just that a rope might be a good thing for them to have in case of need.

Peeta and Chaff are trying to convince Linna that it's time to move on, that they've stayed in this clearing too long already, but the older woman refuses to budge. Annie had suggested that they carry her, if she won't walk on her own, but the men aren't ready to take that option yet. Eager as she is to search for Finnick, she doesn't want to leave Linna here alone any more than she wants to strike out on her own.

Barely mid-morning, and already it's sticky-hot, not a breath of air moving through the trees and tangled undergrowth. Sweat trickles into her eyes and she brushes it away, the end of the unfinished rope trailing on the ground and over her ankles. It's not until she starts working on it again that she feels a tug on the rope, but when she looks in the direction of the tug, the rope lies in a patch of light on the ground, unmoving, like a snake basking in the sun.

When she reaches toward the unwoven vines, something trails along the shell of her right ear and then down her neck. It feels like a finger, like Finnick playing, and she jerks away, turns toward the touch, but there's nothing there. Heart racing, Annie scrambles to her feet, one hand on the knife at her waist and the other holding the rope as she stares into the trees, but nothing moves. She backs quickly into the clearing, but stops suddenly, afraid to so much as exhale when she feels a ghost of breath over her right ear, hears the faint directionless sound of laughter.

"Annie?" Peeta breaks away from Chaff and Linna. "What is it?" he asks when he's beside her.

Forcing herself to breathe again, she asks, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

More laughter as ghostly fingers comb through her hair. She lifts her hand from her knife to bat at whatever it is.

"Don't you see that?"

"See what?"

Peeta stares at her. They all stare at her, judging her. "I'm not crazy."

"Annie, there's nothing there." Peeta's voice is gentle, but when he reaches out to touch her shoulder, Annie flinches away…

… and stops when she backs into something solid. A gust of sound escapes her lips before she can bite it off as hands grip her arms, fingers pluck at her hair. iThis can't be real. There are too many hands./i

"But there is something there." Linna pushes up to her knees, eyes wide; she points at something on the ground near Annie's feet. "Can't you see? We have to stay here."

"Stop it!" Annie cries, stepping away from Peeta, batting at the ghostly hands. She can feel them plucking at her clothes, too, pinching when they don't immediately get a hold on the skin-tight fabric.

"Annie, there's noth…" Peeta stops. "Do you smell that?"

Annie smells nothing, sees nothing, but she feels those awful hands touching her, hears that cruel laughter all around her. "I can't stay here." She begins to run for the edge of the clearing, but stops when Linna screams.

"No! You can't! Annie, you'll die!" Annie turns toward Linna, every nerve ending in her body vibrating with the need to run.

"I think something's burning," Peeta announces.

There's a tug on the rope Annie had forgotten was still in her hands. She looks up at Chaff, tries to pull away even as he wraps one end of the rope around her wrist and pulls it tight, but it's too late. Trapped and frightened, she reaches for her knife as Chaff walks away from her and snares Peeta before stalking purposefully toward Linna, who has retreated once more to the center of the clearing.

"Annie's right," Chaff states. "There is something in this damn clearing – I'm guessing some kinda gas – and we are getting out of here." With that, he heads into the trees, towing his allies behind him.

xXx

Sound returns first, washing over Annie like a summer rain before the deluge begins, spitting at her in dribs and drabs, a word here, a heavy exhalation there, and then opening up on her, overwhelming in its intensity.

"—more worried about Annie, to be honest." The voice belongs to Peeta. "She's barely moved since we stopped here. And if the Careers find us, with her like that…"

Squeezing her eyes shut, holding her breath, Annie curls tighter into herself, trying to escape the sounds and the newly returned sensations and smells – the too-rich loamy smell, the dripping rot of the jungle, the almost greasy sweat sliding down her nose, tickling as it drops to the dirt scant inches beneath her face.

iStop it, Annie/i, she tells herself. iThis isn't you. This is what /ithey iwant you to be./i They. President Snow. The people of the Capitol. Even some of her own people, those from the other districts, the poorer districts, those who feel better about themselves and their districts to see a "Career" brought so low.

"My name is Annie Cresta," she whispers. Scrabbling in the sand and dirt as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, she catches sight of the ring Finnick wove for her from a piece of string. Bits of sand and dirt scratch at her knuckles, get caught under her ragged fingernails as she makes a fist, holding the ring safe on her finger. Surprised she hasn't lost it, she says, louder, "My name is Annie Cresta iOdair/i. I am the victor of the 70th Hunger Games and I won't let me defeat myself."

xXx

Annie dodges a blow from Cashmere's sword, pivots on one foot and comes in low with both knives, from in to out, opening a gash in the other woman's abdomen and hip. Blood sprays, striking Annie across the eyes as Cashmere snarls like an angry lion. Dashing the blood from her eyes, Annie dances backward, readying herself for a blow that never comes as Linna slams into Cashmere, sending her flying into the side of the Cornucopia.

A shadow with a spear crosses her line of vision and she shouts a warning half a second before the shadow resolves into Brutus. The spear hurtles toward Linna to stick in the metal skin of the giant horn where the other woman's head was a moment before, but the morphling is already on the move, darting over the rocks toward one of the land bridges. With a curse, Annie scrambles to grab another knife on her way past the pile to follow Linna.

"Peeta!" she shouts. "Chaff!" Linna is fast, when she wants to be, and the slick, rocky footing is treacherous. Annie hopes the others can follow as she sprints after Linna, not sure even she will be able to keep up.

xXx

Another shriek splits the air and Annie pulls her remaining knife from another monkey corpse, but for every one they kill, there seem to be a dozen more to take its place. She hears a grunt and whirls around, sees a mutt clinging to Chaff's back, mouth open wide to sink its fangs into his neck and shoulder. Without thinking it through, she hurls her knife and breathes a quick sigh of relief when it finds a home in the animal's throat. Chaff flings it off and Annie rushes to retrieve her knife.

xXx

Lungs heaving, muscles burning, Annie runs. She feels as though she's been running for hours.

Chaff bulls his way through the trees, leading them toward the beach and the salt lake beyond, while Annie and Peeta carry Linna, bleeding heavily from the gaping a hole in her stomach, courtesy of one of the deadly monkeys that have only just stopped pursuing them.

Peeta stumbles, his prosthetic leg caught by a vine, and both he and Linna fall hard. Peeta cries out, manages to keep from falling onto Linna, but she makes no sound when she hits the hard ground. Annie stops, shouts for Chaff, and runs back to the fallen pair without bothering to wait and see if he heard.

Linna stares up at the trees with clouded eyes. One hand scratches at the dirt. Her mouth opens and closes as she gasps for air.

"She's dying," Annie says, looking from Linna to Peeta, "isn't she?"

Moving to sit beside Linna, his bad leg out to the side, Peeta strokes the hair from the older woman's eyes. Without looking away from Linna, he says, "Yeah, she is." He takes hold of Linna's hand. "It won't be long now, I don't think." The sheen of bright red blood staining black and white fabric draws Annie's gaze and she can't look away. A buzzing begins in the back of her head, grows louder as Peeta talks gently to Linna about colors and paints and canvases.

She doesn't know how long she stares at the blood when a bird flies past her head so close its wings fan her hair. Her eyes track it until it lands on a vine that stretches across the path Chaff broke through the undergrowth. A cannon sounds as the bird fixes black eyes on her and Annie shivers, looks down at Linna once more.

"She's gone," Peeta says unnecessarily. Another bird flies in from above to land on a tree limb behind Peeta as he gently lifts Linna's head from his lap and shifts out from under her. Lowering her just as gently to the ground, he looks up at Annie. "We'd best get moving again. The hovercraft will be here soon." She moves in closer and helps him up when his bad leg won't cooperate.

They turn to continue down the path to join Chaff, who must surely be on the beach by now, when Annie stops, pulling Peeta back, too. The bird on the vine has a handful of friends, nearly a dozen of them clinging to the vine, dragging it closer to the ground below.

"I don't think those are normal birds," she says, her heart suddenly jumping in her chest.

That's when the screaming begins.

Peeta's eyes go wide. He jerks his hand from Annie's, looking around wildly for the source of the sound. "Katniss!" He starts to run but almost immediately goes down when his prosthetic strikes a rock. "Katniss!"

A man's voice joins the first, coming from the same direction. "Finnick," Annie whispers, hurrying to Peeta to help him up again. She pulls his arm up around her shoulder, gets an arm around his waist and tries to jerk him upward as panic races through her veins along with her blood. She's never heard Finnick's voice infused with such pain and fear, not even during the worst of his nightmares.

They start to run as the screams – Finnick and Katniss – intensify, both Annie and Peeta filled with the need to find them, to make whatever is hurting them stop. A bird swoops toward Annie's head and its talons grasp her hair, dig at her scalp, but she doesn't waste the time to wave it away. All she knows is that she has to help Finnick.

More and more birds fly at them as they run, but it's only when Peeta stops running and shouts, "Annie, wait! Stop!" that she realizes there are only two voices issuing from hundreds of mouths.

Arms pinwheeling, birds crashing into her, screaming at her, Annie stops, but some of the birds don't. They fly past her and hit an invisible wall in a shower of sparks and smoke and the air suddenly smells of cooked meat. And still Finnick and Katniss scream. More birds fly at Annie's head. She turns away from the deadly force field, back toward Peeta.

"Jabberjays. They have to be." He has to shout so that she can hear him over the screams. He holds out a hand to her. "C'mon! They're trying to drive us into that." He nods his head toward where the birds died. "We have to get out of here."

With a choked sob, Annie takes Peeta's hand and together they run back the way they came, following the trail of broken branches and disturbed vegetation from their previous headlong flight.

The light grows brighter as the trees grow thin closer to the edge of the jungle. Beyond that edge, bright sunshine burns down onto the pale sand of the beach and Annie can see people there, not just Chaff, but she only has eyes for one man. Finnick is there. He's alive and he's pounding on something Annie can't see, screaming something Annie can't hear. She puts on a burst of speed, desperate to reach him even as his voice continues to surround her in a symphony of fear and pain.

iBut the jabberjays. They're just birds. They can't really hurt me/i, she thinks as she runs into whatever it is Finnick has beaten his hands bloody on, trying to reach her. He's right there, his wild eyes focused on her, but they can't touch. Beside her, Peeta falls to his knees and rests his forehead against the invisible barrier as Katniss does the same on the other side.

"Not real," Peeta mutters, over and over, a never-ending litany. "Not real."

Finnick stops screaming, stops pounding at the barrier. Tears clouding her vision, Annie traces a finger around one of his bleeding hands. He watches her every move from the other side, his chest heaving as tears of his own streak his face. Birds still screaming with his voice, flying at her and at Peeta, Annie and Finnick slide down the barrier until they're sitting beside each other, palm to palm.