The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 13
An hour after Mr Templesmith announced the Feast next morning, Foxface, Thresh and me trekked up to the middle of the arena. The wide clearing around the big golden cornahorn-thingy looked so still, in the gloom before dawn. The three of us searched the forest south of the horn, real careful. When I whistled the quitting time signal and went quietly to meet the others at the clearing's edge, Foxface was already crouched there.
"You okay?" I smiled, but she only stared.
"I suppose so. What about you? You're not worried I might take this chance to backstab you?"
"Nope. Guess I just can't get by without trusting folk, and it ain't fair if that's only Peeta and Thresh. They all said I couldn't survive that way, but I reckon it's the only way I could've survived. Only way we could go after the Twos, anyway." It was true, but we both knew Thresh would kill her if she hurt me, "So you trust me? right?"
"If you trust me, then yes. Cooperation is quite rational. It's just that humans can be decidedly irrational under stress."
"Where d'you get to talk like that?" I grinned, "What'd you do back home?"
"I went to school?" I remembered Five was a middling rich District. We didn't say much more until Thresh showed up, spear in hand. He said the forest south of the horn was clear.
As Foxface nipped across the clearing to hide in the horn itself, Thresh vanished into the forest with a last steadying look. I wanted to hug him, but I think he wanted to get the parting over quick. Then I hunkered under a bush and watched for the dawn, shivering. I was alone, again with my worrying and guilt.
I wondered if Katniss had hid here to watch the Careers' supplies. But it was too sad to think on her in those dark hours. No better thinking of Peeta or Thresh, when they might end like Katniss before noon, and I'd never see them again.
But the worst was thinking of Clove. One time in training, the District Three girl had come up to me at lunch, said she was so scared she just needed to talk. I was going to pour out how I wanted to be brave as well, and help her. But then I saw Clove, watching us.
The worst Peacekeepers in Eleven had eyes like Clove's. So terribly understanding, picking out every fear and weakness I had, and revelling in them. After that, I wouldn't talk to the Three girl no more (I think the girl from Four chopped her to death in the Bloodbath). Seeming pitiful would just make me a target for slow, showy death.
I wasn't afraid for myself no more. I wasn't going to live, I'd be glad if my dying could save Peeta or Thresh. But it got so hard to think of Cato and Clove as children, instead of just killers. So hard to be sorry that we were going to try and kill them. They'd kill us if we didn't, but that couldn't make it right.
–0–
Dawn finally came, glinting off the horn, and spreading over the grass. I remembered it was the last dawn I might see, and almost cried to think of home, but I stayed still and quiet where I was. A sweet dawn chorus of birds piped up all around, raising my spirits a little.
I touched the Mockingjay pin on my jacket. I so wanted to be calm and free like my little friends I'd sung with maybe a hundred years ago. Calm, free and brave like Katniss. She'd shot a boy to save me. I'd save my friends, whatever I had to do.
Then the fancy white table rose out of the ground, right in the open next to the horn. Four backpacks on there, all black and pretty big. One would be what we desperately needed, the medicine to save Peeta. I nearly felt sick with the tension and fear for him, as Foxface darted out of the Cornucopia.
She seized two bags off the table; Twelve and Two. Ran for where I was hidden in the trees. Straight away, a dark figure sprinted out the northern treeline. Her knife was already glinted in the sunrise.
I stood up, said the quickest prayer, and dashed into the clearing.
The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Day 12
The three of us–Peeta spent a lot of that day passed out–had started talking plans that morning. Foxface looked edgy, but talked with a nervous energy, quick and certain.
"Both the Twos are trained killers. If you're going to defeat them, Thresh, it'll have to be one at a time, and by surprise. How much practice have you had with that?" She jerked her head at the bow. Thresh said he'd had a bit, "Then I'd only use the bow if they see you first, for shock value. But if you see them first, you can't risk missing."
"So what, then?"
"We have certain advantages. The Careers don't know we're working together. Do they know you've left the cornfield?"
"Nearly ran into them in the forest, yesterday. Let them follow me back to the cornfield. Then I went a way round south and came up the river. They never saw me come here."
"Excellent! It seems as if you've got plentiful brains, as well as that very visible brawn." She gave Thresh a suddenly confident, very grown-up kind of smile. He was surprised as me, but didn't smile himself. "The best plan is for Rue and I to show ourselves to the Careers. If we provoke them sufficiently, they'll split up to chase us. Cato won't be expecting you to ambush him in the forest, Thresh. But he's as big as you, so you'll have to take him first, before Clove."
"What about whoever Clove chases?" I interrupted.
"I've got some ideas…" Thresh and me both listened. We agreed it sounded crazy, but we had to try something. Only doing things was stopping us going crazy, whether finding food, treating Peeta, killing Careers or anything.
Foxface's head flicked nervously between us, before she went on.
"Can I clarify something? If we really do defeat the Twos…could we draw lots? Finish all this rationally?"
"Draw straws for a Victor?" Thresh glared at Foxface, then me.
"She's risked her life to help us," I gave Thresh a very pleading look, "Doesn't she need some kind of chance?"
"Alright." Thresh let his breath out, "Guess we owe you. Only my straw would be for Rue."
"Thresh..." So, there it was, he really meant to give me his life. I had the Nightlock. I had to stay quiet for now. Hide what I meant to do with them.
"You can have my straw as well, Rue." We all stared at Peeta. He'd woken up without us seeing.
"It don't matter you're ill, Peeta, the Capitol could make you better–" He looked away, and I fell silent.
"So…three straws against one?" Foxface stared at me narrowly. Then she smiled again at Thresh. "Okay. If I have some chance, I can live with that. And I suppose young children ought to be protected."
"Suppose? If you touch her–", Thresh started off.
"–you'd kill me; I understand. And then you'd have a chance to win. I'm not insinuating anything, I'm actually glad that you've got a chance as well." She gave Thresh another shining smile, "I think you...don't deserve to die."
"None of us deserve to die."
"Except the Careers?"
"The murderers, huh? Yeah, they deserve to die. So I'm killing them. And then I'll be a murderer too."
Foxface fell silent, as Thresh stared out of the cave. All of us might never see such a bright blue sky again, but what he'd said had broken me so much inside, I couldn't even look.
I was a murderer. I'd tried not to think of the Four boy Cato kicked half to death and stabbed because I stole the knife. I'd told myself, killing Marvel was self-defence, but he was nearly dead when I stabbed him. I'd remembered too late that God doesn't look at outward things, but the heart. I'd tried not to think why I'd driven that arrow home, because I'd hated Marvel, right then. Hated all the Careers for killing my dearest friend. I'd even helped Katniss drop that trackerjacker nest. I'd tried to forget their screams, their writhing–oh, that had to be the most horrible way to die.
And I'd killed them. I'd had to do it, to save Katniss–no, I'd chose to save her. 'Had to' meant I was helpless, controlled by the Games in everything. I'd gone against the message of death to save Peeta and treat him, to be friends with Katniss. I'd done that, and I'd killed all those children too, in spite of Mama's warning, Pa's forgiveness, all the words of God I'd ever heard. And all my sunshiny dreams that I'd just survive, without all the sins it took to be a Victor.
My dreams and hoping had been worth nothing; I'd done nearly all the evil I could and deserved to die right then. But Thresh had seen my tears, and he was holding me. Rocking me back and forth, like Pa used to. I felt too bad to pray; all I could cling to was that he didn't want me to die.
–0–
When I'd calmed down a bit, the three of us went up to the woods near the horn, to scout around, and prepare. Just walking through the cooling trees, seeing flowers here and there, helped piece me together a bit. Foxface got me to practise as much as I could for how she meant things to play out. Getting chased through the trees almost felt like playing tag with friends back home. Almost, but fearful memories still crept in, and both my hands were trembling afterwards.
When we got back to the cave, Peeta was awake, looking worse than ever; he said he'd never felt so weak. After I'd changed his dressing, and seen the blood poisoning that would surely kill him before another noon, he started talking.
"Rue...I've had a lot of time to think. I've tried to make good thing, help everyone I could...but I don't think I did so well. Could you tell me about your God, the one you have in Eleven? Please?"
It was hard with the way I felt, and always hard to remember God in that Arena. But with a little help from Thresh I told Peeta all about God, who made the whole world, and made both right and wrong. Then about His son Jesus who died and came back to life. He lived somewhere called Israel, no one knows where it was. Maybe it was what they called Panem before the Great Disasters. There used to be books called bibles all about God and Jesus, with all the good things He taught folk. But even before the Dark Days, after the Great Disasters, every single bible in Panem was destroyed. They say folk were afraid of them. But now all the Pastors in Eleven just pass down all the scriptures from memory. They say that's why they call them Pass-tors.
"...and, he said anyone who believes in Him will live forever in heaven...with all the wrong they ever did forgiven. You can pray, and say you trust Jesus, that what He did was enough to take all your wrongs away. And you can ask him to give you strength to be sorry, for all those wrongs. And to not do wrong again, or love or worship anything else but our Father who made us. He said...we should come to him trusting and joyful as little children..." I couldn't go on. Thresh put an arm round my shoulder.
"All the other way round in the Hunger Games." He mtterered. He was right. Maybe Thresh had grown up into a man in the Arena. But I was just scared and bewildered, with all the childishness in me broken.
"...and He says we should forgive each other." I sniffed, "Be sorry for we've done, and forgive."
I could see that was hard for Peeta. Forgiving Marvel for killing Katniss, Cato for wounding him, the Capitol for putting them both in the Games. And he'd killed the Eight girl to help Katniss; being sorry for her was the hardest thing of all.
He got even paler, like a flickering candle, as we prayed together; I could only pray for Peeta, and his comforting. Finally, he opened his eyes, smiled like he was lying in a medow of flowers, and said how good it was to be free of that burden. I suddenly wished I'd prayed with Katniss before she went, but I had to believe the Lord always does right.
"Thank you, Rue. I'm not afraid anymore. But remember to believe yourself...that God can forgive whatever you had to do. Okay?" He had such a beautiful smile.
"Peeta, I'm glad the Lord helped you. He'll hold you like his precious child, even if you never knew him before. But I...I heard every Sunday how I shouldn't steal, or hurt anyone, how I should even forgive the Peacekeepers and never hate them. But I still went and stole, killed and hated, knowing it was wrong; that's the worst. I don't think the Lord'll help me come to Him, like He helped you. I want to be sorry, and forgive...I just can't."
"Then...please keep calling Him, Rue. Don't give up."
Peeta squeezed my hand, so weakly. I laid my miserable head on his chest, as Thresh stared away at the wall.
"So, this forgiveness...?" I heard Foxface whisper.
"Don't mean I won't kill them tomorrow."
I knew he would. Justice was the biggest thing for Thresh. They had to die, but it was all too much for me.
I wasn't a Mockingjay, that might fly up to rest with the Lord. I was trapped in the Games; I could barely hope He'd ever save a wretch like me. But I kept on praying to Him, and I kept tight hold of Peeta's hand.
The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 13
I ran towards the horn, to Foxface. She ran to me, with Clove behind her. The second I was close enough, she threw the pack in her arms to me. It hit my chest hard, and then Foxface cried out. From twenty feet, Clove had flung a knife that slashed through her arm.
"Thanks for the meal, Two-girl!" I shouted. As Foxface took off like her tail was on fire, I ran back for that treeline even faster, fast as a sparrow in a hurricane. I didn't look back. But I could hear Clove's pounding feet behind.
"CATO! There's two! Running!" I caught Foxface vanishing into the trees south of the horn, dripping blood. Before I reached the treeline, I saw Cato burst into the clearing from the direction of the cornfield, and set off after Foxface with ground-eating strides. Running after her, to where Thresh was waiting to bushwhack him. While they fought, Foxface would run the medicine over to Peeta and save him. Then her and Thresh would come rescue me from the knife-crazy murderess I had to keep occupied all that time.
I plunged into the forest south west of the horn, running flat out. I had to throw the pack away to lose weight; Clove kicked it out of path and raced after me. She was going flat out through the trees like me, too fast for knife-throwing. But I knew she'd fill my back with steel if I tried climbing a tree–she was too close, getting closer all the time.
I could hear her rasps of breath, as my skin crawled with the dread of a knife. I was so scared, I could hardly breathe right. The burning in all my limbs got worse and worse. It took all my strength to keep running, all my wits not to trip and fall on a root or stick. But I kept flying along with her right behind, and finally dropped into an overgrown gully. I think Clove tried dashing round it, but I popped out the side and rolled under a hedge.
She tried going through that, snarling in rage as thorns ripped her clothes and skin. If I couldn't fly away like a bird, I could be a rabbit instead. Just like I'd practised with Foxface, I dove through half-a-dozen hedges and thickets, pulling Clove through the dense branches every-which-way until she started screaming bad words after me.
"Just give up! You can't win, you little–!"
Then she dove into another thicket after me, and fell out the other side, all tangled up in a giant net. It had been Marvel's net; the simple trap with some stones for weight simple trap had been another idea from Foxface.
Before Clove had finished cursing and cutting herself free, I'd scrambled up a great spreading tree. Gasping for breath among the top branches, I felt a twitch of joy rise up in my spirit.
