Let Me Fly
by FanficAllergy & RoseFyre
oOo
Chapter Seven: Tooth, Fang, and Claw
oOo
Last Time in Let Me Fly:
It's a skull.
A human skull.
I look around the clearing, seeing it with new eyes. The swells and bumps of moss take on a more sinister meaning. "It's people," I breathe. "The whole clearing is people."
"What happened here?" Gale asks, looking around, his eye wide.
I shake my head. "I don't know. But I think we should leave."
"Yeah, good idea."
And we do. All thoughts of the kiss we shared are pushed from my head by our gruesome discovery.
oOo
Gale and I don't talk much on our way back to camp. We're both still shaken by the discovery of the field of bones.
When we get back to camp, we tell everyone what we found.
"Ewwww, gross!" Prim says, wrinkling her nose.
I agree with her. Dead animals are one thing. Dead humans are another.
"Who do you do think they were?" Gale muses aloud.
I shrug. "The bones looked pretty old. I'm more concerned about why there were so many of them. I mean, all those people in one place. What could do something like that?"
"They could be from the Cataclysm or even the Dark Days for that matter," my mother offers. "There's really no way of us knowing."
"And do we really want to find out?" Peeta asks. "Does it really matter?"
We share a look. Implied is the fact that there isn't anything we can do about avoiding something that deadly.
"It's still really creepy." Prim cuddles Buttercup closer to her.
"Don't worry about it," Rory tells her. "The dead can't hurt you. Worry about the living."
"And on that morbid note, I think we should get started on supper," Peeta says, bending down to start the fire.
oOo
The temperature falls overnight and Peeta and I have to huddle together under our blanket during watch. It's the coldest it's been since we started out and I'm actually grateful my mother suggested we do watches in pairs. I'd have likely frozen otherwise.
"It doesn't feel like spring," Peeta observes, wrapping his arms around me tighter. He's seated with his back against a tree with me nestled in between his legs, leaning back against his chest. It's comforting even though I tell myself I don't like it.
"We're in the mountains," I say. "The weather's unpredictable up here."
He chuckles and I can feel it vibrate through my back. "I know. I grew up in Twelve too."
I lean my head back against his shoulder. "What was it like growing up in town?"
He tilts his head to look at me. "Boring. It's not like baking bread is all that exciting. Not like hunting or going out into the woods."
"I never really thought of it as exciting," I tell him. "It was necessary for my family's survival. I would have loved to have grown up in town, never having to worry about where my next meal came from, if it was going to come at all. Never having to worry about if I was going to get enough to keep away starvation for one more day."
"I suppose that's true. I didn't have to worry about that. I never went hungry, but you get sick of stale bread after a while." I feel him shrug.
I never really thought about it before. My family always had a variety of food to eat, even if we didn't always have enough. "I always thought you ate cookies and cakes. Like those ones in the window."
"Can I tell you a secret?"
I nod.
"The ones in the window were just for show. They were just cardboard with frosting on them. The real cookies were for customers. All we ever got was what wouldn't sell, mostly stale bread and burnt biscuits."
I glance up at the overcast sky and change the subject, "I bet we get snow before the day's out."
"You're probably right." Peeta gets up and starts packing the lunch pails. I miss his warmth and pull the blanket tighter around me. "We should get started as soon as it's light."
We head out soon after. The walk is easy and we're heading northeast along the clearing. The only annoyance is that we have to stop frequently to deal with my mother's monthly visitor.
She pulled me aside this morning to tell me so that I could make the proper accommodations. I'm embarrassed; I hope the boys don't find out.
In order to keep them from discovering the real reason for our frequent stops, I make us gather everything we find. We forage a lot this way and on one of our stops I snag a squirrel.
Gale keeps glancing over at me hopefully, but I avoid him. I don't regret kissing him, but I'm just not sure if I'm able to give him everything he wants, and I certainly am not ready to have that conversation. The kiss was nice and I'd probably be willing to kiss him again. Just later. And I don't want him to get the wrong idea. I'm not ready for a relationship yet, even if I wouldn't mind making out with Gale again.
We reach a larger clearing with several ruined buildings. There are the remains of large vehicles all around the clearing although most of what's left is broken glass and rust. We'd seen several places with broken glass along the way, and now seeing these larger vehicles we can guess that the glass was from smaller ones that have long since rusted away. I'm guessing they're from whatever civilization was in this area before the Cataclysm.
The long clearing that we've been following veers sharply to the southeast. Gale and I share a look. We don't want to go that way. It's time to find a new path. We head north, looking for a stream, river, or even one of those odd clearings that's heading in a northern direction. It takes us a little bit but in the late afternoon, we finally do.
By then, it's time to stop for the day. Each of us takes on a different task. Peeta gathers cattails while Rory and my mother set up a camp and Gale and I go our separate ways to hunt.
I don't have very much luck and I spend most of my time following the stream we found listlessly, thinking back to my kiss with Gale. It was nice. Really nice. And it seriously confused me. I've never really considered dating somebody, it's never even entered my mind. A relationship is a luxury. A luxury I couldn't afford. I had my family to feed, and the Games were an ever-present worry hanging over my head.
Now, despite the worry of having to find a place to live, I feel like a huge burden has been lifted off of me. I don't have to deal with life in Twelve, or the Games. I don't have to go to school. There's no more worry of dying in the mines like my father did. It's freeing. Like a huge weight I never knew I was carrying has suddenly disappeared and things I've never had time or inclination to think about are now very real possibilities.
I reach up and I touch my lips, remembering Gale's kiss. Would it be just as nice if he kissed me again? Unbidden, a thought flits through my head: I wonder how Peeta kisses. Gale's stubble was surprisingly soft; will Peeta's be the same? Will his lips be chapped like Gale's? What does he taste like?
What in the hell am I thinking? This isn't like me!
I shake my head to try to refocus on hunting, but I can't keep the traitorous thoughts out of my mind. It's distracting and dangerous.
I don't realize how dangerous until a few moments later.
Off to my left, I hear a large animal approaching through the undergrowth. I draw my bow and point it in the direction of the noise, my heart racing. It doesn't sound like a deer or any of the other game I'm used to hunting.
A few seconds later a full-sized boar bursts into the clearing sniffing the ground intently.
Reflexively, I fire my arrow at the beast.
It isn't a perfect shot. The arrow sticks in the animal's ribs, but not deeply. I'm in trouble.
The pig squeals in pain and anger, swiveling its head, searching for what injured it.
It finds me.
Lowering its snout, the boar charges.
I take a step back, firing another arrow. This time it skewers the eye, slamming into the skull.
It's a good hit.
The animal skids to a halt and falls onto its side, dead.
My heart is racing. I'm lucky to be alive! I can't afford to be distracted by Peeta or Gale. I could have died!
I stare at the pig and another thought hits me. How am I going to get this much meat back to camp? What are we going to do with it all? There is no way I'm letting this much pork go to waste. We're going to have to figure out some way to preserve and take it with us. But first, I've got to get it back to camp.
I field dress the pig, draining its blood and removing the undesirable organs like the stomach and intestines. When that's done, I grab the boar by its legs and take a few experimental tugs. It doesn't move. It's still too heavy for me to get back to camp.
I sit down next to my kill to think.
I don't dare leave the pig here unattended while I go back to camp to get help. The scavengers would be sure to find it. I need to get Gale and the others to come to me. But how? What can I do to get someone's attention?
The black and white wing of a mockingjay catches my attention. The birds. I can use the birds.
I start to sing the Valley Song. It seems appropriate, considering we're in a mountain valley. And it's one of the simplest songs that I know. My father used to get the mockingjays around Twelve to echo it back to him. I hope the ones out here will do the same. The only way to find out is to try. I sing the first verse and wait. A few seconds later the birds pick it up. I smile. This might work.
I repeat the song every five minutes to keep the birds singing.
It takes almost a half hour, but I can hear Peeta and Rory crashing through the woods calling my name. I sigh. I'm going to have to teach them how to walk silently in the woods soon.
Once they're close enough, I shout back, "Here! I'm over here!"
The break through the underbrush and run towards me. "Katniss! What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Peeta asks, taking in the blood on my clothes.
I shake my head. "It's not mine." I motion to the boar. "It's this ugly thing's."
"Whoa," Rory breathes. "That's a lot of meat!"
Peeta suddenly seems to notice the pig and his eyes widen.
"Rory, run back to camp and get some rope," I tell the pre-teen. "And a hatchet."
He nods and sprints away.
"How can I help?" Peeta asks, bending down next to me.
"Can you cut down one of those saplings?" I ask, pointing to a stand of birch trees.
He pulls out his knife and looks at it. It's a small knife, not really suited for much other than cutting vegetables or fruit. He shakes his head. "I'd rather wait for the hatchet. I'm not sure this would work." He looks at me, his eyes lingering on the blood on my clothes. "Why don't you go get cleaned up? I'll watch the pig."
It's a good idea and I take it.
Rory comes back a bit later with the rope and the hatchet. I'm starting to get a little worried because it's getting closer to night and the crows have already found the pig's entrails. I'm worried about other scavengers.
We tie the pig to the sapling Peeta fells and the two boys carry it back to camp.
When we get there, Gale's already returned with several smaller pieces of game including a duck. It's the best single day haul we've had in over a year.
"What are we going to do with all this meat?" my mother asks.
I shrug. "Eat it?"
"How? It's not going to stay good for that long!"
"I don't-"
The howl of a wild dog interrupts me. A few heartbeats later a second howl joins it.
Gale leaps to his feet, bow in hand. "Fuck! This is bad!"
I whirl, scanning for the oncoming attack.
"Get ready!" I yell as another howl pierces the air.
We don't have long to wait.
Two large dogs burst into the campsite, beelining toward the pig. They must have followed us back from the stream.
Gale and I fire our arrows simultaneously.
They hit.
Unfortunately, we're aiming at the same dog. I groan internally. We need to work on our coordination. Later, once the danger passes.
The doubly killed dog falls.
The other dog skids to a halt at its packmate's demise. It's a lucky break, giving us time to reload.
The other dog is dead a second later.
We listen for the sound of any additional attackers, but there aren't any. The skirmish is over and thankfully no one is hurt.
Gale retrieves our arrows while I cover him. Peeta and Rory drag the dogs as far away from camp as they can. Hoping that any additional scavengers will go after the dogs rather than us.
I sit down on the ground, glaring at the pig. It's all the boar's fault. If it hadn't startled me, the attack, the continuing danger from predators and conundrum of what to do with the meat would have never happened. Part of me is regretting killing it, but a louder, more reasonable part reminds me that we need the meat. Stupid pig.
"So...I guess we can dry it over some smoke?" my mother suggests, as if the attack didn't happen.
I stare at her blankly before breaking into peals of uncontrolled laughter.
oOo
My prediction that morning that we're going to get snow comes true. Sometime after sundown, large fluffy flakes start falling, sticking to the ground and trees. I'm grateful we stopped earlier and took the time to make a shelter and set several fires for smoking the meat. The snow's not falling fast enough for it to endanger the multiple fires we have going but it is still problematic in another way.
"Snow?!" Prim exclaims. "This late in the year?"
"It can happen. You know that," I tell her.
"But it's so cold!" She burrows into her coat until only her eyes are visible under the wool cap she's wearing.
"That's not the biggest problem," Gale says, wrapping his scarf around his neck.
"So what is?" Prim asks, her voice muffled by her clothing.
"Duh. We're going to leave tracks," Rory tells her.
Gale shoots his brother a look. "Tracks are pretty much the least of our concern. We're sending up a giant smoke signal right now. I'm actually pretty grateful that it's snowing since it's hard to see anything in snow. The cold's a problem. But with these fires and our shelter we can deal with it. The worst part is that it's covering all of our food."
"That's not really a problem," Rory counters, motioning to all of the thin slices of pork drying over the fires.
"We can't live on just meat alone," my mother says. "We'll get sick."
"And predators are going to get desperate," Gale adds. "We're pretty vulnerable out here and we've got this pig to guard. We're going to have to be extra careful while it's drying."
"How long is that going to take?" Peeta asks.
"At least a full day to get the meat completely dried," my mother tells him. "It'd be better if we had two and I'd really like more salt to preserve the meat with. We're all out."
"We can look for some," I tell her. "Tomorrow. We're not going to be doing all that much anyway."
"Do we have enough wood?" Rory asks, looking at the large piles placed next to the fires.
"I cut down a maple tree," Gale says flatly. "I think we have enough."
"If you're really looking for something to do," my mother says crisply, "you can start stripping bark from the wood. We can eat the inner layer and it should be pretty sweet this time of year and it's better than worrying about something we have no control over."
Rory makes a face. "Fine."
Prim emerges from her cocoon long enough to stick her tongue out at Rory.
"I saw that, Primrose. You can help Rory as well."
I struggle to hide my smile. It's the most normal life has been for a very long time.
Peeta meets my eyes and nods slightly. I guess he feels the same way too.
oOo
The night passes uneventfully and we sleep deeply, despite the cold, our bellies full for the first time since we left Twelve. I curl up against Peeta, reveling in his warmth. It's a little surprising how quickly I've gotten used to sharing blankets with him. I wonder if I'd be as comfortable with him if we hadn't run away. Probably not. I probably would have gone for years without speaking to him. But he makes a good blanket, I'll give him that.
Morning comes, signaling the end of the snowstorm. Peeta and I are on the last watch again. It seems to be our assigned watch even when we're not traveling. I'm glad we're not going anywhere today because there's probably five or six inches of snow on the ground. Foraging isn't going be easy with this much snow. It's warmer than yesterday so I'm hoping the snow won't stick around for long.
I heat some water for tea and Peeta starts making breakfast. There's no point in waking the others yet.
"So what do you want to do today?" he asks, frying up a few boiled cattails and wild onion in a pan with some pig fat and liver.
"I told my mom we'd look for salt." I add some wintergreen to the hot water and watch it steep.
Peeta looks up from his work. "How are you going to do that?"
"Look for deer," I reply absently.
"What?"
"Deer like salt. Really like it. They like to lick it and they'll gather where the ground is salty. A lot of the time you'll find whole chunks of rock salt if you dig around a little," I explain. "Back in Twelve, I used to take out a few chunks to bait deer with in the fall."
"Huh. Weird. You think deer will be out in this weather?"
I shrug. "They've got to eat. They'll be out." My eyes are trained on the surrounding forest. After the attack yesterday, I'm nervous about more predators finding our camp.
The smell of cooking rouses Rory and he comes over, his bowl at the ready. He's soon joined by the others.
"Why don't we settle down here?" Rory asks through a mouthful of food.
"Yeah!" Prim agrees. "There's all sorts of stuff to gather and animals to hunt. It seems like the perfect place."
Gale shakes his head. "We're too close to Twelve still."
"We've been walking forever!" Rory protests. "We still can't be that close to Twelve!"
I calculate it out in my head. Gale's right. We're maybe about forty miles from Twelve as the crow flies. We haven't been traveling in a straight line and we've had to navigate around a lot of objects so it just seems like we've gone further.
"It doesn't matter," my mother says. "This place isn't safe. There's no coal seam fires nearby to hide the smoke from ours. We'd be caught eventually."
"Don't worry about it, Rory," Gale tries to soothe. "Once we get a bit further north, we can see about building a house."
"Are you insane, Hawthorne?" Peeta exclaims, slipping back into calling him by his last name. "Look around you! How many new houses with smoking chimneys do you see?" he asks rhetorically. "None! It won't matter if our house is right on top of a burning coal seam, it'll still stick out like a sore thumb to any passing hovercraft."
Gale glares at the other man, all of the earlier camaraderie gone. "So what's your suggestion, Mellark?"
Peeta falters. "I don't know. Just not a house."
"Why can't we live in one of the ruins?" Prim asks.
Peeta shakes his head. "It's still too obvious. Ruined houses burn down, they don't have controlled fires going day and night."
"We could live in a cave," my mother suggests, looking up from her food.
Both Peeta and Gale gape at her. She smiles at them and returns to her breakfast.
It's not a bad suggestion and it's the obvious one. We've just been so hung up on building a house that we've not thought of anything else. We really should have.
Rory opens his mouth to ask another question when we're distracted by the sound of something large lumbering towards our camp.
Grabbing our weapons, we leap to our feet, all discussion of where to live forgotten.
I can make out the approach of something big and black. I narrow my eyes. It can't be...
"I think it's a bear," Gale mutters half to me and half to himself.
He's right. I really wish he wasn't. The animal is sniffing the ground following the path Peeta and Rory made with the wild dogs yesterday evening.
The beast spots us. It freezes.
So do we.
For several long moments we're at a standoff. There's too many obstacles in my way. I can't get a clear shot.
Gale fires anyway. The arrow grazes the bear's shoulder before skittering off into the undergrowth.
The bear lets out a mighty roar and charges
Gale swears, but nocks another arrow.
I swear too. If Gale had just waited, we could have gotten a better shot or maybe the animal would have gone away. Instead, we now have an enraged bear barreling down at us and I'm not sure if arrows are going to be enough to stop it.
I get a shot and take it.
My arrow pierces the bear's chest. It's a solid hit.
The bear barely notices. It keeps coming.
Gale fires his second arrow, sticking the animal in its left foreleg.
It keeps coming.
Peeta and Rory step forward, brandishing their walking staffs in order to protect Gale and myself. We have the best weapons. If we go down, we're all in trouble. We really need to figure out a better plan for defending ourselves. Sticks just aren't enough.
Later. We have to survive the next few minutes first.
I fire again, hitting the bear's right eye. It's normally a kill shot but the bear's skull is too thick.
Partially blinded and in pain, the beast rears up swiping its claws wildly at us.
It connects.
One massive paw slams into Rory, knocking him to the ground. The boy lets out a groan and clutches at his chest. I can't see any blood but that doesn't mean he's okay.
"Rory!" Gale screams, dashing forward to drag his brother to safety.
Peeta moves in front of me, attacking the bear with his staff. It doesn't do much but it allows Gale to get Rory clear.
It also gives me a few precious seconds to line up my shot.
With the animal on its hind legs, I have an opening. Drawing my bow, I shout, "Duck!" to Peeta.
He falls to the ground and I release my missile. Time seems to slow and I notice every detail. The bowstring twangs as the arrow snaps forward.
The bear takes a swipe at Peeta, missing him by inches.
Behind me, Prim yells something that sounds like a name.
I can't hear it over the rushing of my blood.
I reach for another arrow, my eyes never leaving the one hurtling toward the raging bear.
It sails true, impaling the heart.
The beast crumples to the ground with a pathetic moan. Another arrow fired at short range into the skull finishes the job.
Peeta gets to his feet. "I can't believe it didn't kill me."
"I can't believe it either," I say, then gasp, "Rory!" I turn to see how the boy is doing.
"I'm fine," he wheezes, sitting up with Gale's help. "Just a bit bruised. The claws didn't get me." He fingers the thick leather and wool of his jacket. "My coat on the other hand…"
"So you say. You're still not getting out of an exam, young man," my mother says sternly. "Now strip."
"Here?" he exclaims, eyes darting to Prim.
"Yes, here. You can either do it voluntarily, or I'll do it for you." There's no room for argument in my mother's tone and Rory reluctantly complies.
I don't need to watch the boy be humiliated. I turn my back and start to examine the fallen bear. It's big, but compared to the mutt we killed a few days ago it looks tiny.
"I bet it weighs a good two hundred pounds or more," Peeta says coming up beside me.
"Don't you want to watch the show?" I ask, referring to Rory's exam.
Peeta snickers. "I feel sorry for the kid and want to give him a break. Gale's hovering and your sister is in full healer mode like your mom."
I nod, tugging a broken arrow out of the bear. I might be able to salvage the tip but the shaft is useless.
"Can I help?" Peeta asks.
I nod. "Can you see if you can find the arrow Gale grazed the bear with? It's not here."
He nods his head before hurrying off into the woods.
I continue with my task. Although I don't have much success. None of the arrows lodged in the bear are whole, but I'm able to recover three of the arrowheads.
Peeta comes back, Gale's arrow in hand. "So what are we going to do with the bear?" he asks.
I look at the bear and then back to him. "Eat it."
oOo
The next day we stay in the same place, now smoking the bear meat as well as the pig. My mother makes yet another request for salt, so Peeta and I go out looking.
We range around, searching for deer tracks. We find some heading towards the ruins near where we left the long meadow and follow them.
The tracks lead to one of the ruined buildings and we find several deer licking the ground around the outside of the structure. I reflexively reach for my bow.
Peeta stops me. "We don't need more meat right now."
I make a face but reluctantly lower my bow, a voice inside me screaming that I'm letting food go.
Peeta raises his voice. "Hey, get out of here!" he yells at the herd, waving his hands wildly.
The deer scatter before I can change my mind.
Peeta walks over to where they were just moments before. He bends down and touches his fingers to the ground then brings them to his mouth. "Definitely salt. I wonder where it came from."
"There, I guess." I point toward a large round structure with four foot high brick walls and a steeply sloped roof that has long since collapsed in on itself. "There's no other place it could have come from."
We circle the building trying to figure out how to get inside. We don't find a door. Finally we clamber up onto the ruin and move a few pieces of roofing.
I have no idea why anyone would have kept salt inside a building but the proof is in front of us. It looks like the salt has melted into the floor. Underneath the ruined roof is a huge slab of pure rock salt. We hack away at the brownish white mineral with our knives until my hunting bag is full of several large chunks. "We can always come back for more," I say. "But this should make my mother happy."
"I wonder why they kept salt in a building. It seems a little weird."
"Who knows," I tell him. "But we should keep an eye out for ruins like this. They could hold more."
We head back to camp, talking about inconsequential things, and when we get there I find my mother building something with Gale. He looks confused, but he's following her instructions.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Building a travois," my mother says.
"A what?" The word is unfamiliar.
"A travois. There's no way we're going to be able to transport this much meat in our bags." She motions to the many tripods of meat drying over smoky fires.
I come over and inspect the thing. It looks like a stretcher with one end slightly wider than the other. "And how's this gonna help?"
"We attach this to somebody's hips and they can drag it along. That way we can actually carry all of this without overloading our bags. And even better, we can keep our hands free." She gives me an amused look. "I'm sure you approve of us saving all the meat."
I nod my head. "How'd you come up with this?"
Gale answers. "Would you believe, of all things, the instructions came out of that book your mom's been reading?"
I blink in disbelief. "The romance novel?"
"Yup."
I shake my head. I guess it is worth more than just kindling.
oOo
AN:
Written: 2/3/15
Revised: 2/5/15
The title of this chapter comes from a Ted Nugent song about hunting. The working title for this section of the fic was written under "Oh my god the meat!" because seriously OMG! THE MEAT! The alternate title was "Hunting Haul of Doom! Now with wild dog action!" Unfortunately there isn't a song with that title so we went for "Tooth, Fang, and Claw."
When talking about this fic, we had several long discussions about how they're going to be able to store and preserve food. Sugar is limited to sap derived sugar (such as maple sugar) and they're past the ideal time for tapping trees. There's honey if they can find it but even if they can, harvesting it is a risk. Vinegar takes time and a starter. FanficAllergy knows how to make it, but it takes 6 months to make naturally and you need containers. That leaves drying, salting, and smoking.
So on to salt. They brought some salt with them but with that haul of meat, they needed more. There are salt deposits all over the U.S., including many in the Appalachians. Additionally in several northern states, including Pennsylvania where we're placing them, the road commissions use salt to de-ice their roads. That salt is stored in watertight buildings made of brick and cement with steeply sloped roofs that look like, quite frankly, Madonna's bra. We found one of those near the area we want to set this. The nice thing about salt is that even if it gets wet and dissolves, it can reform later. That's how they get salt in areas near oceans and interesting salt formations near the Great Salt Lake and Dead Sea. Salt doesn't degrade or decompose and it stays in the earth for a while. On a large cement area, it would likely still be around in small quantities. Depending on when the Cataclysm happened each of these buildings can hold several tons of salt. Peeta and Katniss found substantially less than that. Also in this area are several caves formed by oceans that hold fossils of sea life. Heck, even where FanficAllergy lives (a state known for its fresh water) there are salt mines. There's going to be a little fudging, but, Hey! Artistic License.
Randomized:
- All of the weather (including the snow)
- Distance traveled on the one day they traveled
- Everything they managed to hunt and gather - including the pig, which we were jokingly calling "the holy grail" while rolling and which Katniss managed to get
- What predators attacked, when they attacked, and if they injured anyone
- How many arrows/arrowheads survived the bear's attack
- What day salt was found and how much they took back with them
