Johanna sighs and raises her hand, "Don't worry, Gale. I can do this... I need to do this. It won't take much longer..."

That night, I had another dream. I was looking down on the fairy-tale village I had seen in the illusory countryside beyond the force field. Days and nights passed in time-lapse, but not so quickly that I could not see the little people going about, helping each other in all kinds of little ways. Then every night, just like in the fable I had heard and Sky really believed, the stars came out, multiplied by every good deed the people did for each other, until the night sky was as bright as day.

Then the time came when a great city appeared overnight in the distance, and I recognized the towers of the Capitol, except that there were no lights by night. Merchants came, offering special gifts to the people, and there was great celebration when they built a railroad to the village. But then the merchants started demanding a price, higher and higher, and the people grew poorer despite what they bought, and they did less and less good for each other. Then uniformed soldiers came with the merchants, and they simply took, and the people could not resist, and forced the people to build a great wall. Then, instead of doing good, they began stealing and cheating and killing to take more of what little they had left or simply because hurting each other was the only thing they had the power to do. Then with every foul deed, a star in the night sky fell upon the city, to shine from its towers. Soon, the city shone bright as day, but the sky over the village was pitch dark, because the people could not see it over the wall they slaved to build.

Then I saw Sky's angel, only this time it wasn't just giant, it was as tall as the mountains it hovered between, looking down on the village. The mantle that had covered its body was unfurled as a set of wings that spead wider that the valley between the crags. It flitted forward, following a train to the great city, and there it stopped, and floated, and the light that shone was brighter than all the city's lights, though the hood and a second mantle still covered it. Then part of the second mantle drew back, covering an arm, and from where the hand would be, there came a flaming sword...

I woke up then, and I felt damp as well as cold. Snow had fallen during the night, and now the sky was clear, except where the smoke still rose from burning trees, but a strong wind blew it northeast. The snow had mixed heavily with soot, but there was still a blinding glare off of it. I knew it would be torment for Sky, and of course, we would be able to see his tracks. It was murder, pure and simple, and I was being entrusted to do it.

As we set out, a cannon sounded, and a hovercraft headed for the highlands. Napoleon looked at me, and I shook my head, and he nodded in agreement: too easy. Then he pointed to something else: From somewhere in the valley came a column of smoke. We made our approach along the west edge of the circle, where the injured and stragglers from the herd were hobbling around shivering. One bull charged us, and Napoleon brought it down with an arrow to the suture in its head. He called a halt and stooped where the lunkheads had clawed up the earth. A few scraps of vegetation had been exposed, but left untouched. He held up a clump of false-katniss roots. He thoroughly anointed every one of his arrows with the juice of the root, and applied some to the point and horizontal hook of the head of Rook's polearm. When we approached another lunkhead, a little one with a maimed leg, Rook gave a slash with his hook. The lunkhead gave one strangled squawk from a foaming mouth and slammed down headfirst, pounding its head into the earth as it convulsed.

As I led the way toward the mouth of the valley, I saw something in my binoculars, and my first thought was that what I beheld was a stocky terrier digging at the base of a tree. Then my eyes adjusted for the proportions of the 200-foot tree, and I realized that the creature before me had to be as big as the oxen the jacks used to haul trees in places where the trucks couldn't go. It turned its head, revealing long and- relatively- narrow jaws lined with fangs and shearing molars that looked eerily like a possum's. It gave an eerie, high-pitched shriek, and an answering cry seemed to come from the valley. At any rate, the Mutt turned around and jogged out of sight.

Needless to say, nobody was hurrying to move in, but I advanced, waving for the others to follow. "It was digging for something," I said. "I want to know what it is." They followed a little faster. It became clear that this was not simply a hole that the Mutt had dug itself. It took just a moment for me to know its true source. "It's one of Sky's traps! He dug a pit and caught something."

I approached the pit, a hard wide and deeper than I could tell. I could see remnants of a frame of sticks that would have held up a screen of loose leaves to hide the hole, which was too big for Sky to have dug himself. I looked down, and finally called out, "Is anyone down there?"

A quavering voice answered, "I'm Lee Odama. From Nine."

"We were wondering about you. How long have you been here?"

"Three days. I think. I had a pack of food, but it's out."

I almost laughed. She had lasted to the Final Eight stuck in a hole in the ground. What was funny to me was that it was not surprising. When we had to go into the woods to rescue someone, we always have the best chances with the ones who get stuck, because they stay in one place and don't get themselves into any worse trouble. Too bad about Niner. "Has anyone been here?"

"Yes. The skinny boy from your District. He was talking to the angel on his shoulder about whether to let me out. He said the angel told him no, because I was bad."

Almost on impulse, I called to the others, "Bring a rope." After a moment, Rook complied. As I lowered the rope, I said, "Well, Niner, this is your lucky day. Right now, we're all together, looking for the same boy who left you here, and I bet you'd love to join in." I reached out a hand to help her up.

"Thank you," she said. "The boy, he left me this." She held up a root. "It looks like katniss. But it's not, is it?" I shook my head and turned back. That was when she came straight for me.

I had my knife out even before she took a step, but she managed to get inside my reach. I caught her knife hand, and she caught mine. Her weapon was pitiful, barely an inch, and her technique was worse, but her blade was undoubtedly poisoned, and she had sheer crazy on her side. Rather than try to outwrestle her, I lunged in and bit her ear. Actually, as everyone knows, I bit the better part right off, and I didn't spit it out. Then she screamed "NO!" so loud it almost threw me off. She actually let go of my hand and clutched at her ear. She kept holding her hand to her head and screaming "No!" as I drove home and even after, like she was less upset about dying than being an unpretty corpse.

The worst part was, people still joke about how Seven ate Nine.

An after note: The opening paragraphs of this story corresponds to the complete form of the sketch I used for the "cover", which I originally created for an all-original story. It's a very old concept of mine, and I enjoy bringing it out from time to time. The Mutt is another prehistoric-type creature that I envisioned as some combination of three extinct creatures most people have never heard of: Andrewsarchus, Hyaenodon, and the thylacine.