Chapter 2

Cato's POV

The mutts are gone. All of my anger and hatred is gone, leaving me drained. I feel so tired. I turn my face to the sky, waiting for the trumpets to announce my victory. In answer, a slight wind carries up a moan from the ground. Lover Boy?

I limp to the edge of the Cornucopia, and sure enough Peeta Mellark, missing limbs and covered in blood, is writhing in the grass. Why didn't the mutts finish him off? He keeps groaning, and I realize that he's saying Katniss, Katniss. Who's that? Then I realize, it's Fire Girl. So that's her name.

"She's dead, Lover Boy," I call. "I killed her." This brings on a long tortured moan and another, louder, round of Katniss, Katniss.

I slide off the Cornucopia and tower over the last thing standing between me and victory. Peeta lifts the one arm still attached to his body and shields his face, as if to protect himself. I kick it down and step on his hand, leaning heavily on my boot and enjoying the sound of crunching bones. Peeta cries, faintly, but there is no one to hear him. No one to come to his aid. I crouch over his face and breath, "Katniss is dead. You will never see her again. She's gone." Peeta's expression are twisted in agony.

"I…I love…her," he gasps so quietly I wouldn't have heard if I wasn't two inches from his face.

"Too bad," I say loudly, then stand up and kick him in the stomach. Hard. Lover Boy makes a small noise in the back of his throat. I walk a few paces away from his disfigured body, turn, and throw my knife with all my remaining strength. It lodges in Peeta's chest, the cannon fires, and both his and Katniss's bloodied bodies are carried away by hovercrafts.

Where are the trumpets?

A breeze ruffles the red stained grass.