Unfortunately, we positioned our shelter so the sun shines right in my face. Half blind, I crawl out of the shelter with no pants on to find Jay sitting on the boulder. Dark circles still make their presence known under his eyes, but he seems rather calm.

"Hey," he smiles as I awkwardly stand up, stretching my arms towards the sky.

"You took my shift," I say, bending down to grab my pants, which have mysteriously disappeared from under the mattress. "Where are my pants?"

"I have them," he laughs, gesturing to the boulder beside him. "When it stopped raining, I thought I'd put them out to dry." My pants hit me in the back of the head, cold but no longer soaked.

"Thanks," I grunt as I struggle to put them on. I end up stripping off my shoes so I can tug them on. Climbing onto the boulder beside him, I ask him why he took my shift.

"You looked tired," he explains.

"Gaylynn was tired too," I retort. "Why didn't you just take hers?" Silence follows, I can practically see Jay's mind struggling for a plausible answer.

"I wanted to see the sun rise," he says at last. Recalling last night's whispered conversation, I almost burst out laughing at his ridiculous excuse. Shortly after, Gaylynn wakes up, inquiring about the location of her pants too. For some reason, she refuses to unwrap the flannel blanket around her legs until her pants are back on. Maybe she just wants to be modest. Breaking camp is relatively easy, we fold the tarps and stuff them in the backpack. Gaylynn scatters the grass mattress to hopefully cover our tracks. For breakfast, Jay gives us 3 crackers each. I long for the hearty food of the Capitol as I discover the crackers have no flavor at all. Jay points in the direction the sun rises, and says we should head that way. Hoisting the backpack on his shoulders, Jay leads the way as we trek across the meadow, the sun shrouded in ominous clouds. I hum tunes under my breath to the rhythm of my steps. Gaylynn quietly sings a little song that sounds like a child's tune. It mentions a ring around rosies.

"What are you singing?" I ask. "I've never heard that song."

"It's really old," she explains. "It's more like a rhyme. You hold hands with someone and spin in a circle when you sing."

"How's it go?"

"Ring around the rosies, a pocketful of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down," she chants.

"Speaking of down," Jay interrupts, stopping us from moving forward, "look down." Less than a foot away is a canyon, with a small creek flowing at the bottom. It must be 50 feet deep. In front of us, there's a narrow path that leads downward, into the heart of the canyon.

"Look on the other side," Gaylynn exclaims. Following her gaze, my eyes come to rest on what looks like a forest. Jay insists that we climb down, so we carefully pick our way down the canyon, careful not to send rocks showing down on one another. In a few minutes, we reach the bottom, and I instantly feel trapped. I look to the other side, which is as smooth and sheer as a wall.

"Guess we'll just keep walking," Jay says. We stop to fill our water container, then press onward. Gaylynn stumbles, then falls flat on her hands and knees.

"You alright?" Jay helps her up, ever the gentleman.

"Yeah," Gaylynn laughs. "I just tripped on a rock." Unfazed, we continue our quest, scanning the walls for a way out. Again, Gaylynn trips and falls, and struggles to stand back up, even with Jay's aid.

"Clumsy me," she jokes. Something is not right. Gaylynn was incredibly graceful during training, she never faltered. Now she acts as if her legs are made of metal. I casually walk beside her, and study her carefully. Her lips press together with every step, and her eyes water. Chalky white, her skin seems to have lost it's healthy glow. And every time she puts her right leg down, her movements become small and careful. It's also obvious that she's favoring her left leg.

"Gaylynn, are you ok?" She and Jay turn around to study me.

"Yes," she says. "I just tripped."

"What's wrong with your right leg?"

"Oh for God's sake, Linny. Her leg is fine," Jay snaps. "Let's keep moving."

"No," I insist. "You're favoring your left leg. Every time your right foot touches the ground, you wince."

"Shut up Linny, she probably just bruised it when she tripped," Jay protests.

"No way," I shoot back. "Something's wrong with her leg." Jay and I bicker back and forth until Gaylynn steps between us.

"Enough," she yells. "There's something wrong with my leg." She plops down on the ground, and starts taking off her shoes, then her pants. Her upper right thigh seems to be swollen, then she reveals why. A two-inch wound, leaking blood and pus, sits on her thigh. Jay lets out a strangled gasp at the sight, and backs away slowly.

"Who did this to you?"

"Septimus," she mumbles. "We both wanted a backpack." Jay curses under his breath. I sit beside her and examine it. The wound is to deep to be a slash, Septimus must've plunged a knife into her. Clearly, it's infected, and there's nothing I can do about that. However, I think I can sew it up.

"I can fix it," I declare, pulling out my kit. "But the skin around it is raw and inflamed, so it's gonna hurt. Bad." Gaylynn begs me to just leave it be.

"If we don't fix this, you'll bleed out," I snap. "Should've told me sooner." I begin threading the needle, and order a bewildered Jay to find her a stick. Moments later her returns, and I pass it to Gaylynn.

"What's this for?"

"You bite it," I explain. My needle is threaded, and I'm ready to sew.

"Jay, sit on her legs," I command. Wordlessly, he obeys.

"Now, your job is to hold still," I explain. "This isn't fun, but if you don't keep still, I won't be able to close it." She nods

blankly, covers her face with her pants so she can't see, and puts the stick between her teeth.

"You ready?" A muffled noise of assent is all I need. Taking a deep breath, I put the needle in her skin. Muffled shrieking follows, but she remains still. Time seems to slip by slowly as I sew, the screaming doesn't stop, and neither do her muffled pleas to take a break. My hands shake, but I make rows of tight, even stitches. Finally, I'm finished, and I tie off my thread. Gaylynn removes her pants from her face, which is streaked with sweat and tears. Exhausted, I gently put away my supplies.

"Can you walk?"

"No," she moans, so we trudge on, Gaylynn supported between us. Snails could outrun us, but neither of us wants to

leave her behind.

"Do you hear that?" Gaylynn is craning her neck to see behind us. Water, a churning flood of it, is hurtling through the canyon toward us.

"Flash flood," Jay screams. "Run!" Instead of dragging Gaylynn, he simply picks her up, and we run forward.

"Look," I yell. "We can climb up there!" Sure enough, on the side of the canyon, the wall has a treacherous path that snakes upward. It's our only option.

"Go," Jay screams.

"You go first! You'll need to pull us up," I scream back. Jay starts clawing his way up the path, I follow, then Gaylynn. The water reaches us just as Gaylynn is less than 5 feet up. Sharp rocks start cutting my fingers to shreds, but I continue to scramble up as quickly as I can. Finally, I reach the top, but my hands don't reach the ledge. In fact, they're about 6 inches short. There's no way I can climb up, the wall is sheer and smooth.

"Linny," Jay yells. "You'll have to jump. I'll catch you!" His arms dangle over the side.

"Ok," I screech.

"1...2..3!" On 3, I launch myself upwards, toward his outstretched hands. For a heart-stopping moment, I fear he won't be able to catch me. His hands grab mine, and he hauls me up. A few moments later, Gaylynn is counting down with him. Her left leg propels her upward, and time seems to slow to a crawl. It wasn't enough, she's going to come up short. Jay launches himself forward so his torso hangs over the side, and I frantically grab his waist. Gaylynn's hands grab his, we slide forward, my feet struggle to find purchase. Finally, we stop sliding. This is where and how we all die, I think, tightening my grip on Jay's waist.

"Pull us up," Jay yells, I can see Gaylynn's eyes shining with fear.

"I can't," I shriek. If I try to, I'll lose my grip on Jay and they'll both fall. My arms aren't strong enough to pull them up, and I fear that if I shift too much, all three of us will fall.

"You have to," Jay screams.

"You're too heavy," I cry. "I can't hold you for much longer." My feet, inch by inch, are scooting towards the cliff. If they slip, it's over for all three of us. Time stops again. We are at a stalemate, no matter what we do, we cannot win. The next few moments will determine who we lose, and Gaylynn knows it. She locks eyes with me, and they shine not with fear or desperation, but with selflessness and understanding. Suddenly, I know what Gaylynn will do, and there's no way to stop her.

"Jay," she cries. "I'm sorry."

"No," he screams. "You can't! We can pull you up!"

"No you can't," she says.

"Don't you dare let go of my hands," he croaks.

"I have to," she smiles, peaceful and serene.

"You can't do this!"

"Yes I can Jaylor." Her use of his full name brings the direness of this situation to light.

"I need you Gaylynn!"

"Need is a strong word. You'll be fine."

"But I thought we-"

"We like each other Jaylor," she says. "But this is going too far."

"Don't let go of my hands!" Quite honestly, I'm in awe of the sheer amount of chemistry between them that is just now deciding to make an appearance.

"Take care of her Jaylor! She needs you now more than I do," she cries. "Goodbye." With a mighty effort, Gaylynn wrenches one hand away and blows him a kiss. She lets go, and plummets into the water.

"No!" Jay launches himself forward, as if he wants to join Gaylynn in the deadly water. Screaming, I struggle to haul him up and away from the cliff. Really, I'm being selfish. I just lost Gaylynn, I don't think I can bear losing Jay too. I grab his arms and drag him, inch by inch away from the cliff till he elbows me in the gut. With a yell he runs toward the cliff. Diving just in time, I grab his legs so he trips and falls just a few feet short of the cliff. He screams bloody murder at me, curses fly out of his mouth in a rage as I try to keep him from going near the edge.

"Let go of me Linen!"

"I won't!"

(Looks like we're picking up the pace now! More death will follow, so stay tuned!)