Evander stops mid-swing, the returns to resting the ax on his shoulder. Relief washes over me, but I'm still shaking like a leaf. I almost died, I think.
"What now?" He's obviously annoyed that I had the gall to interrupt him, he looks impatient with me.
"Y-you h-h-have a p-pistol," I tremble, gesturing to the slender silver weapon strapped to his belt loops.
"Thanks for noticing," he smirks. "Why do you care?" It's hard for me to form words with a deadly weapon looming over me.
Unraveling my thoughts, I finally manage to get the words arranged.
"I h-have a b-bullet," I stammer. Immediately, he lowers the ax to his side, distrust in his eyes.
"What are you talking about?" I swiftly pull the singular bullet out of my pants pocket. It catches the sunlight and gleams impressively. He sets down his ax and studies it carefully.
"Where'd you get that?"
"White parachute," I explain. "It wasn't from a sponsor." I'd be dead right now if I hadn't kept it, I think.
"So what's the big deal?" He picks up his ax again. "Why can't I just kill you and take it?"
"I'll swallow it," I screech, holding the bullet over my mouth.
"So?"
"I'll throw it," I yelp. This time, he hesitates. I don't think Evander really wants to kill me. I talked to him in training, we hung out together.
"He looks like a killer, but he's not," Ash smiled, sharpening her hatchet with care. "I don't think he'd hurt anyone."
"I'll give it to you if you let me go," I beg pitifully. Evander has basically brought me to my knees, I have no choice but to beg for mercy. It's humiliating.
"Why should I?"
"You could kill Septimus!" This stops him cold, I wait for him to answer me. I stretch out my hand, the icy cold bullet laying in my palm. Time slows down. There is nothing else. It's me, the boy from District 7, the ax, and a bullet. Nothing else matters. All of Panem must be on the edge of their seats, anticipation nearly killing them. My heart seems to have stopped beating. I hold my breath. Suddenly time catches up to me as Evander's rough hand snatches the bullet out of my tiny hand.
"You have 5 seconds," he smirks, and I scramble to my feet back towards the river. Lungs burning, I practically fly through the trees as Evander starts shouting for Alto. The piney forest floor turns to rock as I reach the banks of the river. Cross or run? I wonder. Alto's a better swimmer than me, but the river doesn't look deep enough. I've got no choice but to cross. Daintily, I start picking my way across the river, trying very hard not to slosh water in my boots. I'm halfway across when Alto and Evander appear on the bank.
"Screw it," I curse, and quickly slosh my way across the river, sending tidal waves of icy water down my boots. A spear lands a few feet in front of me. Take it, I think. But if I grab it, Alto will surely track me down to get it back. He may not be as merciful as Evander was. In the end, I abandon the spear, and zip into the woods and up a tree. Heart pounding, I wait for Alto to come and spear me like a fish. Nothing happens. In fact, from my vantage point, I watch Alto retrieve his spear, then cross the river to meet Evander. They turn and head back into the woods.
"I could've died," I breath. How many times have I almost died? The canyon with Gaylynn. The forest fire. The lightning. The careers first attempt at killing us. The acid rain. And now Evander and Alto once again. Too many close calls.
"Don't worry Linen," Dimity smiled. "I'm sure they won't pick you."
"Yeah," Scarlet chimed in. "Your name's only in there a couple times."
I hate thinking about reaping day. God, that was awful, I think, scampering down the tree. I land on my side with a thud, an unpleasant feeling. Then I realize I slogged through the river without being burned. The water must be ok. I sneak back to the banks of the river, and puzzle about how to carry water with no container. In the end, I dump out my sewing kit, and use the clear vinyl bag to carry the water. Fortunately, it doesn't leak. I cut another square off of the flannel, and tie up a simple bag for my kit. Every sound has me glancing up in fear, waiting for Alto to come back and spear me. I shove my things in the backpack, and decide to enter the woods. I hate to leave the river behind, but I feel like entering the woods is a necessary evil if I am to find Jay. But my shoes are wet, and the sun is already starting to dip. I could get a blister walking around with soggy boots.
I have no choice but to walk for a few moments, then make camp. I strip off my shoes, then prop them upside down so they'll dry. A fire takes forever to make and blisters my hands, but it's worth it when the temperature starts to dip. My tarp is riddled with tiny holes, but I make a lean-to with sticks and leaves to keep myself warm and dry.
Breaking the stillness of the night, the anthem boldly proclaims the deaths of Ajax, Adeline, and Mitch. Ajax is dead? My mind simply can't process this. He seemed almost invincible. Another career must have taken him down, that's the only explanation that makes sense to me. That would also explain why Evander and Alto's camp was in such a disarray. Someone must've attacked and took out Ajax in the process. But who would be fool enough to do that? 3 against 1 would be tough, even for a good fighter. Jewel could've done it from a distance, potentially, but that seems unlikely. That leaves Pearl. Ajax could've snapped her in half in head-to-head combat, but if she was stealthy...yes that must've been it. Who else would've been light enough to stick those weapons in the upper branches? Only Pearl would've had the guts to wreak havoc on their camp like that.
Yawning, I crawl back into my little shelter to sleep. It's basically throwing caution to the wind to sleep unprotected so close to the careers camp, but I don't care. I'm much too tired and hungry anyway.
My dream is one of the strangest I've ever had in my whole life.
"Linen, you have to get on the train," Jay says. "You're gonna make us late!" We're at the station in District 8. I'm wearing the biggest white ball gown I've ever seen, and Jay refuses to tell me why the heck I should board the train. Theodosia is there, muttering about floral arrangements and champagne under her breath. Margaret shoves a fussy white veil on my head, congratulating me on my "special day" as Jay continues to try and pull me the train.
"Why do I need to go?"
"It's your wedding," Jay snaps, tugging on my arm. "Get on the train!"
"My wedding?" The brief moment of shock gives Jay enough of an advantage to get me on the train. "I have a fiancé?" Jay and I sit next to each other in the car, which is bedecked in white and pink draperies.
"Yes," he snorts. "It's-" But before he can tell me about my significant other, the train begins violently rocking back and forth. In a blur of white skirts, I tumble on top of Jay and we roll to the other side of the car. Bottles of wine shatter, the extra sharp pieces cut us, and the contents of the bottles turn out to be blood. After several minutes of this, we stumble out of the train car, covered in blood, onto a stage in the capitol. Thorn Rookwood says to the audience that they should bring presents to my wedding. I am dripping in blood as my dad tells me to walk with him down the aisle. Jay is waiting at the other end, soaked in bright red blood. No one seems to be bothered by the gore except for me. Rosemary and Margaret on the right, Alto and Evander on Jay's left. My dad deposits me next to Jay, a trail of blood behind me as the official prepares the official marriage certificate.
I sit bolt upright, panicked and sweaty. Was I about to marry-? I decide not to finish that thought. It's a little too disturbing for my taste. I was totally gonna marry him, I think, as I pull out the remainder of Rosemary's fish and eat it. Somehow along the way, I've lost my lone rabbit to eat. I'll set up snares later in the day, if I stay.
"Boots are still wet," I mutter, pushing my hand in to find dampness. I rig a few sticks so they'll hang over the fire and hopefully dry soon. In the meantime, I decide to fashion a bag out of the small square of flannel. Threading my needle, I begin to sew a small bag, taking care to pull my stitches tightly.
"Oh, look how amazing he looks," Dimity swooned, discreetly pointing to Corduroy Frostpaine, arguably the cutest boy in our grade. Reaping day was supposed to be about the Hunger Games, but no one could stop us from giggling about the various hotties in our district. Corduroy turned his soft brown eyes on her and winked at Dimity, sending us into fits of giggles.
"But what about Oxford Perrywight?" Scarlet was simply mad about him, her crush had lasted since the 3rd grade. Oxford was dressed in pale shades of red, he and Scarlet almost matched.
"Ooh, there's Jaylor," Dimity smirked, pointing him out to me. "Navy blue is so ordinary!"
"Nah," Scarlet teased. "Linen thinks he looks cute, doesn't she?"
I almost laugh at our silly boy talk. Dimity and Scarlet are most likely at Organdie Tinnybrook's house for her annual Hunger Games viewing party. They're probably seeing someone else on screen right now, since sewing up a bag isn't something the gamemakers will find interesting. I hear Evander and Alto's voices across the river, sending me into a panic. I almost forgot about my would-be-killers.
"Shoot!" I scramble to grab my boots and tie the laces together, then throw them around my neck. My stuff gets jammed into my bag, and my sewing kit goes in my coat pocket. My feet are bare, since I shoved my socks into the boots. The rowdy voices get louder, and I take off, with not enough time to put out the fire. My bare feet pound against the forest floor, which is very soft and plush. I run, panting and out of breath until I'm sure of my relative safety.