14. The End of the Line

Back at camp, Clove heard two cannon shots fire. She smiled. Surely, James Bond had killed Katniss and likely Peeta as well. He would be coming back to camp shortly. The two would continue on as before. She fantasized about Bond and herself and maybe Cato too somehow managing to all survive the Games and moving next to each other in the Capitol. Sure, it seemed impossible, but James Bond had done so many things that had seemed impossible before.

But Bond never came back. At night time, as was usually, they flashed the faces of all the dead tributes for the day. To her shock and horror, Marvel from District 1 who in reality had been James Bond, 007, was shown. My God, Clove thought, she just killed James Bond!

Clove didn't even cry. She ran into the woods. She was even angrier than Cato had been. She knew Katniss had killed him, and she would kill that bitch. Cato ran with her.

"I'm killing her," yelled Clove.

"You're never gonna find her," said Cato. "I couldn't."

"I will I swear to you, and I kill her."

"Well then you better make it painful."

"Oh, I will. I'm gonna chop off those chubby cheeks!"

"She's actually not overweight at all, Clove…"

"Shut it!"

It took days but Clove found her and overpowered her. She had her just where she wanted her, helpless and on her back. There was nothing she could do to escape justice. Katniss Everdeen. The girl on fire. The murderer of James Bond, 007!

But he was watching and waiting. Thresh got Clove. He pinned her against the Cornucopia. At last his parents would be avenged. But, he couldn't say that out loud. No, District 11 had been forbidden from mentioning the victor peacekeepers to anyone on the outside with death for his or her entire family as the penalty. So he thought of a lie. A believable one. Clove had mentioned Rue's death. Yes, he would use Rue as his rallying cry.

When Clove saw the rock heading towards her, she knew all was lost but did not want to give up. James wouldn't have wanted her to. She would call for Cato. He would help. She screamed his name twice. But, nothing. And then it hit. Nothing could have prepared her for the pain. What was that? Someone was holding her. Someone was crying. Was it James? Was it? Was it…

Thresh was standing by the lake when he heard the cannon fire. He was amazed with how long Clove lived after the blow. Her blood was nearly dry on the rock Thresh still clutched in his hand. He looked down upon it: the instrument of his vengeance. Suddenly, a figure approached Thresh from behind and grabbed him – in a hug.

"You did it!" said Finch, the redheaded girl from District 5. "I saw the whole thing; got my supplies before Katniss and Clove came and hid in a bush. You got her! 'The most dangerous and cold blooded of them,' as you said. My hero!"

Finch kissed Thresh on the cheek. He didn't react at all but stared comatose at his rock. Finch and Thresh had been aligned since the first day of training. Thresh knew he was strong, so he figured allying with other strong people would be useless. Instead, he sought out the smartest: Finch.

Finch had been the mastermind of their strategy. Both moved around constantly – always looking for food, never seeking out a fight but leaving traps including the poisoned well. The two constantly monitored the sky at night, too, waiting for the right moment to begin an offensive against the Careers once their numbers were sufficiently dwindled. Once they saw Marvel was dead, both knew that they had to begin to shadow the remaining two and wait for them to be separated to strike which Thresh did at the Feast while Clove was distracted.

"Don't call me a hero," said Thresh.

"Why? You did what you wanted to do."

"Yeah. What I thought I wanted. I had plenty of reasons to want Clove dead. More than even you know. Now, she is. And now you call me a hero. For what? There was no honor in what I did. All I did was bash in a fifteen-year-old's brain. Yeah, give me a medal. Make me a saint."

Thresh never forgot what Folse told him. Clove was not the first. Thresh killed a boy on the first day, but that was in self defense in the chaos. That one barely seemed real. But this one was different. He felt it.

"You showed restraint," said Finch interrupting Thresh's thoughts. "The girl on fire?"

"I couldn't exactly kill Rue's buddy after claiming I was avenging Rue now could I?" he answered.

But Thresh knew there was more to it than that. He fully intended on killing Katniss as well. But he couldn't. He didn't think he could ever kill again. Killing Clove murdered his spirit.

Thresh continued, "Come close, vixen."

"Okay."

Thresh whispered in her ear, "She was my sister, but I never realized it. My blood sister. Our mothers' had the same killer – Folse, her father. Why didn't I think of that? Why didn't I think how alike we were? I killed my sister!

"And her father was right. He told me they'd make me a killer. Well now I am. And worse, you're happy; the people are happy. District 11 already sent me a congratulations package. So did fans from the Capitol. As long as people see me as a hero, there's going to be plenty more people like me for years to come. The glorification of so called justified violence leading to more violence."

Thresh chucked his rock into the lake and walked away weeping bitterly. He and Finch were both dead within three days.

Back at the Cornucopia, Cato laid Clove's corpse on the ground. He had to accept that's what it was finally. She was dead and gone. There would be no recovery. He was alone. As Cato walked away, he took one last look at Clove. Her dead body eerily stared at him: both eyes were wide open. They remained that way forever.