7.
Cato
Oh, I am so fucking sore. How the hell does one sleep in a damn tree? I feel the stiffness in my body, along with something hot pressing against me. My eyes are open in an instant, and its Katniss, she's moving around me, part of her brushing against more sensitive areas. I'm feeling a little too warm, and I'm fearful of what would happen if she kept wiggling.
She unsnaps the belt, and I watch her sleepily as she backs our things. The trees really are her greatest strength. She isn't even worried about falling out of it. She's crouched, and she pivots on one foot as she's adjusting her bag, scowling silently at the garish orange.
My ass is numb, and I can imagine the pain I'm going to be in from being straddled all night. She notices me awake instantly. All I can do is breath a small sight of relief when her warm body left me. I ignore the small twitch that seems disappointed.
"We should go now, I need to check the snares for rabbits, and we can't eat it raw," Katniss says to me. "We can use that Tributes fire, I bet its still smoking."
Indeed, its only been about three hours, and despite the cramps in my body I have to say it was a pleasant experience as she had been so close to me. My arms holding her tight. I don't say anything, and am not sure I have a voice as Katniss puts her flask to my mouth. I guess my lips were obviously chapped. If the cameras could see us all of Panem would be thunderstruck.
I take a few gulps, and try to get my senses back.
"I have food," I finally say, and I sound like a frog with the rasp and croak lodged in my throat.
"That is to be saved for later when we can't hunt. No need to waste a fresh kill," Katniss says sliding off the tree like a slide.
I wrap the sleeping bag under me, and I groan inwardly at the pain in my spine. "Don't look so refreshed," I complain, and she's smirking at me.
Ah, the cameras.
"Sorry, but I did have the better end of the deal I guess," she says as she takes my things, and I jump down.
"Yeah, you used me as a pillow," I play up the crowds, and I imagine the looks on their faces.
Katniss gave me what she thought was an innocent shrug. "What can I say? You make for a good one." she pokes me in the stomach. "Let's see if my snares come up with anything."
"Good, I'm starving!" This was the part of the Hunger Games I was not trained in. I'm absolutely useless finding food. Most of it around me would likely kill me in one bite.
I keep a distance behind her, looking around, and allowing my senses to pick up if anyone is nearby. I know for a fact that my former allies likely haven't moved yet from the comforts of the Cornucopia. I can't say I regret leaving my group. Sure, they have comforts like an endless supply of food and water, but they leave a lot to be desired. When I'm around them I become a rabid inhuman animal who sinks further and further into the lust of blood.
Katniss' presence sobers me up, and there's a flicker inside, and I feel good like I'm worth more than being a murderous sociopath. Her eyes cut right through the facade, and get to the heart of matter.
"I'll show you how to prepare wild game to be eaten," she says from a few paces away. She heads up the slop of a valley, and I quickly catch up watching in silent awe. She stops at the base of some brushes, and I'm surprised when she pulls out two fat rabbits by the ears. "Then we need to secure more water than we have now. It won't last if we're both moving and the temperature climbs."
I must look like a stalker to the audience because I'm not speaking. I only watch.
We go over to the campfire that's still smoldering. "I think we can risk a bit of a fire," I say plopping down. The body is gone now, the hovercrafts having come some time ago to collect it.
"The morning haze and fog should cover most of the smoke, but lets be on guard. I also need to try and cover this god awful orange bag," she hisses in disgust. She pulls out some plastic. No one but her would grab it from the Cornucopia. They wouldn't see a need for it, but she had. She uses a little bit of water to skin, cut, and prepare the rabbits.
All I can do is watch her in awe as she works intently on the wild game. Glimmer for all her bloodthirsty intentions would probably squeal and flinch away at the idea of eating such a wild and fresh animal.
Clove would eat it, but she'd rather not. Marvel strikes me as the type to complain. He was always complaining about the food at the Training Center, and how it wasn't good enough for his tastes. All I can think of is how incredible this one woman sitting beside me really is.
By the time she's done the rabbit look appetizing. She prepares skewers, and we both roast them over the fire.
"The next batch you prepare it," she tells me, and I nod as I don't trust speaking. I might say something even more damning.
Its not bad, tastes good actually. I never ate anything so fresh. Sure, I'd prefer the steak and potatoes, but this is just as good when it comes to the Hunger Games. The first bit of meat I've had since they started. I'm not the kind of guy who likes sweets.
We are careful with the water, taking sips out of Katniss' flask while leaving whats left in my half gallon jug alone for the time being. Once she's done, she wraps the rest up, and tells me to eat all of mine. She then begins to use the ashes to try and cover her horrible orange bag.
As she does that I put out the smoke, and spread pine needles over the top of it. She stuffs the rabbit bits that aren't to be eaten underneath a rock, and piles leaves on it. As I stand, I feel the ache from sleeping in the tree slowly receding. She uses just a little bit of water from her flask to get the oiliness off her skin.
"Where to?" I ask letting her lead.
"Water, and it has to be nearby. The lake at the Cornucopia can't be the only source otherwise we wouldn't have had so many rabbits this morning."
"Down hill then?" I suggest, and she nods already heading in that direction. "Give me a chance to stretch my legs."
Katniss smirks. "Oh come on, its not that bad."
I try to glare, but the look on her face dampens it. "I prefer the ground."
"I hate the ground, too easily seen. I feel chained. I prefer to climb, and stay there." We're moving at a steady pace, weaving in between the copse of trees, and doing our bests to remain silent.
Despite my weight, I know how to move quietly, and she seems very pleased when I don't scare every creature off the trail. Its obvious she's using them as a means to find water.
"Yeah because you're like a monkey the way you climb."
"Monkey?" Katniss pauses for a moment as she thinks about the animal, and then rolls her eyes playfully. Both of us are aware that we probably have the cameras watching and following us. This will be easily the most entertaining thing since the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. The intrigue is set in around all of Panem.
I spot a shining gold pin on Katniss' jacket. "Like a Mockingjay then." I've never seen it before, and I can't help but stop her, and take a look at it. I wonder if they've realized how comfortable we are with each other as I brush a thumb across the gold pin. "I've never seen this before."
"A friend of mine back home gave it to me as my district token. I thought I lost it on the train." We continue on course, and I feel a prickle on the back of my neck like we're being watched. I stiffen, and grip the hilt of my sword.
Katniss catches on without words, and her fingers are twitching on the bow, but there's nothing in our path as we continue going downhill much to Katniss distaste.
"I can carry you?" I tease, and then grunt when Katniss' hand slaps me in the stomach. "Or not... you like being high up right?"
"Shut it." She's trying not to laugh. "Keep moving because the way this sun is rising, I expect a really hot day."
And hot it was.
Its late evening, and its scorching. We've burned through almost all of my water, and Katniss is looking nervous, and that's when we step into the mud, and I see those long protruding cat-tails that are often seen by the water, and pond lilies.
On the way, Katniss split some of her crackers with me after she managed to kill three squirrels. "Think we should add our bread to it, make a sandwich," I suggest.
"Since we found water, yes, we will," says Katniss with a small smile. "You're preparing it." She hands the dead critters to me, and I hand over the near empty jug.
We can't help ourselves, we take off our shoes and socks, and bunch up our pants to the knees, and its euphoria when we dip our feet into it. Sighs and a moan of pleasure escapes Katniss as she leans back against the bank. She's filling the bottles we have now, and using iodine to purify it.
I sit above her just a little, my feet in the water. I lay the plastic over me, and I remember Katniss' movements from earlier on preparing it. She turns and watches me while we wait for the cleansing. If I can hurry and get it done we can light a fire, and it won't be noticed.
There have been no cannons tonight, and I can tell we are both hoping that the entertainment is high enough from seeing us together that the Gamemakers will leave us alone.
She gasps when I about skewer the wrong part. Her hands careful as she stops me, and directs the knife to the write place. To speed it up, she takes the third, and is done in a blink.
"Show off."
"Brute."
"Bossy."
She splashes water into my face. "Light a fire," she orders with a mock tone of superiority.
"Yes, bossy."
Katniss toasted four small thin slices of our bread, and then placed a tiny sliver of cheese on each, and we eat our sandwiches, until our bellies are filled, and I have to say – this is delicious. I could live like this in the woods for the rest of my life with Katniss. The way she looks at me, and I can't read her mind. I like that. We drink our fill of water until our stomachs feel swollen.
I help her conceal her bag, and while the mud helps it seems to want to stay orange. We trade light banter back and forth, and then prepare to find a tree for bed.
I groan at this. "My ass is not going to thank you for this."
"Its a good thing I'm not looking for approval from your ass now isn't it?" she cheers at me, and the cocky expression on her face turns me on once again in a rush.
I'm moving before I can think, one arm swooping around her waist, and she gasps when we go splashing into the pond. "Cato!" Katniss squeaks as I let go and smirk.
"That's for your cocky response. My ass is hurt you know."
She comes up, and glares at me harshly, and then splashes my face viciously with water. "Your ass can deal. I'm soaked!"
"You needed a bath anyway." I freeze completely when she pulls her soaked jacket off her shoulders, and I see her green top is sucked against her frame. She tosses it onto a tree limb so it can dry. She's rubbing the water away from her face, and my eyes can't stop.
"Oh, as if you smell any better," she scowls, but I see a hint of a smile play on her face. "Well, here goes," And then to my shock she holds her breath and goes back under all the way.
Its almost a full minute, and I start to get worried that she's not coming up, and then I gasp as the whole world tilts. Small familiar hands grasp the sides of my hips, and I go flying until I'm completely submerged. I'm swallowed briefly by the splash.
I manage to get my footing, and I don't know how this happens, but even in the cool pond water my whole body flares because when I rise, Katniss is expertly climbing up my back, slim arms are wrapped around my neck, and Katniss' mouth is so fucking close to my cheek. Her legs wrap around my torso, and she's laughing.
Fuck, she's laughing. A real true laugh, and I wish I could see her face. I would give anything to be able to turn my head all the way around. I can feel her modest chest against my back, and I'm reacting, and thanking all the nature that my lower half is submerged in water.
"S'what you get, Cato Mathias," she hisses in my ear, and I'm done for. Am I on fire? I must be because the water is suddenly 100 degrees, and its only getting worse. "Now take us to the shore," she orders as if she's riding on a horse.
My eyes lower as adrenaline pumps me. "Yes, Miss Fire Queen, I shall do as you say," I manage to get out, but my tongue is dry, and I know I sound a little on the strangled side.
"Good boy!" Her chirp sets my teeth on edge.
Kill me now.
Katniss
I wonder if I've upset him. Our clothes are soaked, and it makes it harder to climb up a sturdy tree big enough for the two of us. Cato is very quiet, and only offers me a small smile when we talk. Its getting dark now, and we really need to be situated in our tree before the Careers come hunting for us.
It was hard to leave the lake, but we have our bellies filled, and our thirsts are more than quenched. It's odd, I can't remember a time where I've had that much fun, not since before my father died anyway. I shouldn't be because this is the Hunger Games, and for all of a few minutes I forgot about the games and the cameras. I forgot that Panem was watching us.
What did they think? What did they see?
I'd like to know because I don't know myself. We are in a large enough tree that Cato isn't straddled. His legs are straight until his feet hit a fork, and I consider things for a moment before doing something that was likely stupid or would get the crowds going so wildly that we might have a safe night to sleep.
My heart is racing, and my skin is buzzing as I loop a leg, and am soon sitting straddled in Cato's lap. His eyes are monstrously widen, and his large hands are holding my hips. "Th-this is dangerous."
"How so?" I ask confused by his reaction. He's gritting his teeth, and looking ashen. "Did you get hurt when we were in the water? I'm sorry!"
Cato's shuddering, and his eyes close. "Goddamn, Kat, you really don't know?" His voice is shaking, and it comes out with a mix of a grunt and a growl.
"No!" I confess. I hate not knowing something, what's going on? I shift, and he gasps as if I've hurt him. "Are you okay? If you're hurt tell me so I can fix it!" I'm worried because I didn't mean to hurt him, and that's when I feel it.
I feel him, and I am immobilized. My hands are pressed flat to his chest, and we stare at one another like a caught deer for the longest time, and I can tell Cato is trying not to breathe. "S-sorry." He looks guilty.
Did I cause this? I want to look down, but I know better. I settle with my knees locked around him, and he's got his eyes shut. I'm close enough now to see a flicker of agony and something else – pleasure? No, that's not the right word for it.
I almost forget we need to be belted in for this. "I'm going to freeze tonight," I say absently as my jacket is soaked, and I can feel it on my skin.
"No you won't," says Cato opening his eyes suddenly as if aware. I can feel him getting a little more comfortable as he dips into the bag that hangs above us, and pulls another sleeping bag out, and wraps it around my shoulders. I don't want him to freeze so I push closer until our chests are touching, and my cheek is resting on his shoulder. I can feel his heart beating against mine, and his arms locking around me. Strangely, I'm not as cold as I expected to be. "Sorry about dunking you in the water."
"I needed a bath," I find my voice, and Cato chuckles roughly. "Go to sleep," he says taking up his sword. "I'll watch tonight." The anthem begins to play, but there will be nothing in the sky tonight so I don't even turn my head.
I realize as I'm laying there so close to him, arms snuggled between us that I actually do trust him. I trust him to keep me safe, and I trust his hands, the way they hold me close as if he is trying to give me all his warmth.
At this point, I don't know what it'll mean when it comes to the games. As I start to fall asleep against Cato, I can't help but think I've really made a mess of things.
When my body and mind flickers on from the haze of sleep, I can tell instantly that I am drenched in sweat. A tiny speck of light is flickering between the heavy foliage of the trees, and I'm sticky. I smell stale pond water and salty sweat.
Even with the belt, I have somehow shimmied my way down until my ear is pressed to Cato's chest, and I can hear the beating of his heart as I peel my eyes open. Unlike last night they don't burn, and I can hear the birds singing and twittering. Cato is holding me close, and he's – snoring?
He's snoring! I'm working this through my brain when I hear the sound of a cannon, and we both jolt awake. Cato gripping his sword even tighter, and he's holding me.
"Kat?"
"Uh huh," I can feel his heart-beat its as fast and jerky as mine is as I sit up, the sleeping bag falls off me, and thank goodness because I think I'm going to smother. "W-we should go."
Cato can only nod, and we just have time to get things together when the ground begins to shake, and before I go crashing to the ground, Cato's arm swoops in and grabs me. Its the weirdest thing because I'm partially hanging upside down, in a sort of back bend, and that's when I see it as the smoke curls around my nose.
I see a wall of flickering flames. "C-Cato?"
He doesn't have to look at what he's smelling or the crackling and sounds of a stampede rushing through the forest. I manage to grab our bags, and he pulls the belt off our restricted frames, and we launch off the tree, and to my utter surprise, he is running with me in his arms.
He's jumping over logs, and diving through the foliage. All I can do is clutch Cato as I watch over his shoulder as the entirety of the woods behind us is incinerated by the engulfing flames that stretch to high and wide to be natural. Its too fast as a tree nearby goes crashing to the earth. A rumble nearly trips Cato, but he's sure footed. I smell and feel the heat coiling around us like a fist, and its threatening to take us by the throat, and snuff out our lives.
Its only thankful that I'm light enough to not be an obstruction for Cato's massive brute strength. I should get down, but I feel frozen, lost as the fire consumes all in its path.
The flames lighting up the morning gray sky, and they're barreling down upon us now. Fear like I have never felt is coursing through me, and Cato just keeps running.
I can feel the heat clawing more desperately, its tendrils rising until it swirls down my throat. My lips are dry, and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I'm coughing and spluttering as I bury my nose and mouth into Cato's shirt. I know I'm clawing him because my nails are dug into his body, and I'm trying not to shake. Fire has always been a fear of mine, its why I had such a reaction to Cinna's amazing pyrotechnics. I've seen them come from the mines, second and third degree burns, and almost all the flesh being melted or distorted. I always flee into the safety of the woods when they come in.
I have to get a hold of myself. I need down to run to or we'll both be drenched in the flames!
"I can run...!" I shout over the searing crash of a tree no more than ten yards behind us.
He says nothing, his breathing heavy as he concentrates on the trek through the forest, zig-zagging as he tries to put as much distance between us and the flames.
The Gamemakers must be having a great time with this. The girl on fire – literally. I guess they were downright sore about me startling them during our private sessions. Score one for the Gamemakers!
I need down, I need to do something. I'm not some helpless damsel in distress. I say this to him, but he tells me to shut up in a rough growl as he jumps over a boulder, his long legs carrying us a small distance away.
When I think we may be able to beat it, the fireballs come. "CATO!" He sees them out of the corner of his eye, and he's swerving now, crashing into bushes and limbs.
I hear screams in the distance as the flames continue to bounce around us, someone has been caught in the waves. Fireballs the size of Cato's fists are shooting our way, and the impact into a nearby tree is loud and explosive, and it reminds me of the mine explosions. Cato had just enough time to dodge the second before slamming to the ground. A painful and squishy contact with the earth, I feel as if I can't breathe, he's on top of me covering me. I hear him taking several gulps of air against me to keep from throwing up from the smoke. I'm pushed into the mud, and before I can fear that we are going to be burnt alive by the nearing flames, he's up again, and running. It was thanks to that mud that bones weren't broken.
"Should let me down now, I'm just dead weight!" I cry out over the whoosh of the fire.
"No! If they separate us that'll make things worse! Just stay still Kat, and stop wiggling!" Cato declares, and I huff in irritation.
I soon realize what the Gamemakers are doing, they're trying to corral us all together since we've been spread out and hidden for so long. There haven't been enough deaths to sate their hunger, and the games are not allowed to become boring. I tell Cato this, and I can tell he's grinning like a maniac.
"Let's go then if that's where they want us to go, and we'll give them one hell of a show!"
At least humans were predictable, fire wasn't. Cato's crying in relief, and I want to whip around to see what he sees, but I fear doing so that I would only slow him down, and then a splash of ice cold water hits my boots and knees, and we're sluggishly moving deeper into its depths.
The glorious river that ran from the forest and into the lake of the Cornucopia has become our savior, relief washes over me. A bed of thigh high water sloshes against the shore and our sweating bodies, I think we're safe, and we've made it out.
If there is one thing I know about the games is that attacks are triggered in a certain areas. We don't see anyone else nearby. Cato is still not letting go of me, fearing the flames as they seemed to stop at the very edge.
They're glaring at us as we taunt them with our safety, and then as if the Gamemakers are laughing at us from somewhere, one last fireball shoots out with an intent to hit, and I'm frozen, fear radiating from every part of my body as I know its heading toward us. Man made fire can probably withstand water, but its not headed toward us.
It whistles over our heads, and explodes into a clump of thick bushes with purple and white flowers, burning and eating it alive with its viciousness. There's a familiar horrendous scream as Cato sends us head first under the water in case we become its new target, but we're not. I can see through my blurred vision that the flames are retreating having done its job too well.
And its the screams from the hidden figure that launches itself out of the bushes, and into the depths of the water with a pained gurgle and a choking splash. At first, I can't tell if it is a male or a female, but then my blood turns ice cold.
Despite the charring of the flesh, and the acrid taste of burning stuck to my throat, I recognize the scream, and I dive off Cato, horror filling my lungs as the fire in the background begins to die down.
I don't care if anyone else is around right now because my brain has latched onto an image that will haunt my dreams for years to come.
"PEETA!"
