He was running and running and running toward the mine, hoping to whoever was watching over them, if anyone at all, that it wasn't too late. His feet scraped against the gravel earth, his steps long and nimble as he ran and ran and ran.
0O0O0O0
She could felt an immense weight on her chest, making it extremely hard to inhale the sooty air around her. Her ribcage barely rose, struggling against the weight, and each time she exhaled, she could feel a tiny bit more of her chest breaking. When she opened her eyes, a wave of darkness blinded her, as if that was even possible. Shutting them again, she felt the dust sting against the insides of her eyelids, and thick, wet tears full of dirt crawl down the sides of her cheeks. All she wanted was to see her parents again, see them laugh or cry or do something. Anything. She just wanted to be with them. Suddenly, as if on command, she felt someone at her side. It was her father, bathed in white and smiling warmly at her. If death is coming, she thought, let it come now.
0O0O0O0
Jerome had used his foot, kicking away more rocks to widen the opening, the barricade between him and… what? A slight possibility that Nan might still be alive? To do something good for a girl he barely knew? He didn't even know the meaning of the word "good" anymore. Not in this world, at least. Whatever the reason was, Jerome was determined to reach it. He stepped through the opening, swatting away the smoke that fogged his vision, seeping in from the main corridor below. The ceiling had stopped raining down, leaving the ground littered with sharp and unstable piles of rocks. Cautiously, Jerome skipped over the rocks, scanning for any sign of human existence. The light from the opening cast long bars of light around him, lending the help of golden tendrils.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jerome thought he saw a movement. Looking toward it, Jerome froze, every muscle in his body tensing. It was like the time he and some friends hung out in the Meadow in the fifth grade. Jerome had been distracted, as usual only half listening to whatever false tale his pals were constructing. Instead, he had been following a small squirrel with his eyes as it skittered up the trunk of a tree on the other side of the fence. The squirrel scampered leisurely along a branch, looking over the side, probably at the twenty-five foot drop to the ground. In his memory, Jerome distinctly remembered the exact color of the squirrel's coat, the temperature of the air around him, the faint buzzing in the background. Out of nowhere, the squirrel suddenly fell; limbs outspread as if he was trying to fly. Instead of soaring into the air, however, the squirrel simply dropped like a rock, hurling to the ground and landing. Jerome thought, with horror, about the sheer dumb luck that made the squirrel land right on the tops of the fence, the barbed wire and spikes stabbing through the small body as easily as one would cut through lard. There was a sharp zap, and the squirrel's body went still, frozen in the unnatural position with its legs up toward the sky, like it had been petrified. Its blood dripped down the links of the fence, and Jerome had ran home, avoiding the Meadow ever since.
Here and now, Jerome found himself petrified, staring at what once was Aero. Jerome stepped aside, the light from the opening improving; Jerome's body no longer blocked it. Crouching down next the body, Jerome saw for sure the body of his best friend. Aero's eyes were open and glassy, a thin layer of dust already accumulating on his face. He looked like a porcelain doll, whose face was smooth yet still, forever still. A perfect streak of blood leaked down from one of his eyes, looking like it had been painted on rather than… Jerome shut his eyes for a moment, throat swelling up. There was a large dent in the side of Aero's skull, like how it looked when Peeta kneaded the bakery dough. If there was blood, it was too dark to see in the boy's thick mane of curly locks. His body was propped up against one of the larger rocks, almost as if he simply fell asleep when waiting for something, not dead. Never dead. Jerome's eyes traced down the length of his body. It would almost have looked normal, if he had stopped looking when he reached Aero's navel. But he didn't. Jerome cringed suddenly and let out a gasp when he saw Aero's right leg. It was entirely blackened from the knee down, large boils spotting around his ankle. Aero's pant leg had been disintegrated into ashy fibers. Instantly, Jerome recognized it as a third degree burn, at the least. Was there such a thing as a fourth degree burn? If there was, this was it. Jerome saw the majority of Aero's bone poking out from underneath his flesh. It was surrounded by a network of wiry muscle fibers that twisted into black ash at the tips, like burnt hair. A colossal amount of blood pooled around the sickly leg bone, spilling over the edges and spreading across the ground around Aero's body. When did this happen? Jerome asked himself, struggling to keep air going in and out of his lungs. How-?
Jerome stepped back, terrified of what he saw, of the things he experienced in the last couple hours. Could it really have only been that long ago that his mother was making cheese tarts in the kitchen? His stomached heaved, and suddenly Jerome was retching, unable to stop the river of bile from coming up and emptying the contents of his digestive system. He spit, wanting to give up, to sink down, and die alongside Aero, alongside all his friends. He-
A faint moan made Jerome stand upright, head swiveling on alert. He hadn't even known his knee had begun to wobble, his legs bending toward the ground. But now, Jerome was awkwardly stumbling over rocks again, heading for the origin of the sound. When he found it, he gasped slightly, body shaking uncontrollably. It was Nan, unharmed mostly, with the exception of one large boulder pressed against her chest, pinning her to where she lay. Jerome saw her chest rise just ever so minutely, he could have imagined it, but it didn't matter. He didn't have to check her pulse to know that she was alive.
0O0O0O0
He found a young girl outside the tunnel where the coal exited on cars. She was sitting with her face buried in her knees, sobs racking her body. Breathing heavily, Gale approached the girl and crouched beside her. As he reached out to touch her, she looked up with red eyes, startled. Up close, he could see that it wasn't just the sobs that had been making her tremor. She was physically shaking, even when she fisted her hands. He felt them; they were as cold as ice. The girl's eyes had a thin layer of a mask on them, trying to tell him to piss off, but he could see past that as easily as he could see anything. After all, didn't he have that same look on himself most of the time? Gale gently wrapped his hand around her cold ones. "Where is Jerome Cartwright?" he whispered softly. Her head only moved slightly, eyes darting to the side, but that was all Gale needed to stand up and bound toward the mine to search for Delly's brother. As an afterthought, Gale stopped for a moment and turned back around to face the girl. "Stay there!" he called, unsure if she was listening. "I'll come back and get you!"
0O0O0O0
Jerome surveyed the boulder, sizing it up. He didn't want to risk hurting Nan if he tried to move it. He needed… something. A lever, maybe? Glancing around frantically, he saw nothing that could be useful. Just more rocks. Suddenly, Jerome heard a choking sound. His head snapped toward Nan, whose throat was quickly expanding and contracting, her head turned toward the ground. Her coughs sent a small cloud of dust airborne, wafting it away to bend into the smoke fog. A small blossom of blood splotched the ground next to her mouth. Even in the darkness, Jerome saw she was as pale as a ghost. He was suddenly very, very scared, terrified really, that she was going to die, right her, right now, while he was watching. Desperately, Jerome crouched down and placed his hands on the boulder, beginning to heave. Nan choked more, and Jerome flung his hands in the air, afraid to touch her again. He stared, panicking, at her unmoving body, when suddenly another noise made Jerome tense. He whirled around to see a tall figure in the doorway, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Gale Hawthorne. The older boy looked exhausted, the side of his face badly burnt recently.
The two boys stood frozen for a moment, staring at each other mutely. Jerome was the first to snap out of it when Nan began another coughing fit. "Gale," he said with his voice surprisingly steady. "Help me with this rock." Jerome's eyes burned, full of sweat, tears, and smoke. "It's crushing her."
Without a word, Gale stepped agilely over the rocks, somehow not causing any of them to crumble or even twitch. He reached Jerome and flicked his eyes over Nan's body, examining the situation with the eyes of a hunter. Jerome watched as Gale positioned Jerome on the other side of Nan with a gruff, "Stand over there." Jerome obeyed.
"On my mark, I'm going to roll the boulder off of her," Gale instructed in a low voice, eyes flashing. "Toward you. Stand aside so it doesn't crush your foot." Gale paused, then, sensing Jerome's question before it passed his lips, said, "Your job is to stabilize your end of the boulder so it doesn't hurt her when I roll it. Keep it from smashing her arm or scraping her side. Okay?" Jerome nodded, unsure if Gale even saw.
Gale nodded back in acknowledgement. "Ready?" Jerome repositioned himself, placing his hands on either side of the boulder. He wondered how Gale would be able to lift the entire thing, but didn't say anything.
"Now."
Jerome felt the weight of the boulder shift toward his end, his hands now underneath the entire rock as its incline sloped upward. He kept his arms steady, using his hands as a barrier between the rock and Nan. Jerome drew in short, clipped breaths, feeling the jagged edge of the rock dig into his palms. With a heave, Gale pushed the boulder forward, the weight of the rock leaving Jerome's hands and crashing down into the pile below. The boulder slammed into the carpet of rocks, sending large clouds of dust up. Jerome heard more clashes as the sounds echoes down the tunnel and finally stopped at the bottom with a resounding clang.
He turned back to Nan just as she was lifted up by Gale, resting in his arms comfortably, like he carried half-dead damsels every other day. With looks like that, Jerome thought spitefully, he just might. Gale checked Nan's pulse and sighed, a flicker of panic crossing his expression. Jerome could've imagined it, but it worried him that Gale Hawthorne would be panicking. "Time to move, Jerome."
Nodding, Jerome followed Gale out of the mine, struggling to keep up with the other boy's long strides and perfect balance. When the light from the gray world hit them, Jerome cringed. He saw Sophia kneeling in the dirt with her face red and blotchy. Seeing Gale and Jerome with Nan, she straightened, standing up.
"Can we go?" she croaked.
Jerome found himself wrapping his arm around Sophia's shoulders, his mouth twitching upward into a half-smile. He glanced over at the unconscious Nan, who was moaning as she nuzzled herself into Gale's chest. "Yes," he mused. "We can go."
