Can't help myself but count the flaws
Claw my way out through these walls
One temporary escape
Feel it start to permeate
We lie beneath the stars at night
Our hands gripping each other tight
You keep my secrets, hope to die
Promises, swear them to the sky
As it withers, brittle it shakes
Can you whisper? As it crumbles and breaks
As you shiver, count up all your mistakes
Pair of forgivers, let go before it's too late
(The Naked and Famous)
"How is he?"
Evander opened his eyes to find Milo, Moira, Stella and Sparrow sitting around him talking quietly. He sat up and felt no pain, and there was no blood on his bandage. "I'm pretty good," he said with a smile.
Sparrow smiled back at him and she handed him a cooked piece of meat from a large bird they had caught earlier. "Eat up, we need to move. We've been here for a little too long, and they've probably seen our fire." She nodded at the pile of ashes nearby, which had a thin line of smoke rising from it.
Milo went to go pack their things and Moira followed him. Sparrow watched them talk, noticing how red Moira's cheeks were and how she kept smiling and giggling. Milo held a lock of her scarlet hair and kissed her forehead, and the small girl pressed herself against him. She missed feeling that way. She didn't want to think about what would happen when the two were separated. That was a kind of pain she wouldn't wish on anyone; she knew it all too well.
"Milo and Moira, sitting under a tree, almost k-i-s-s-i-n-g," Stella sang when she appeared at Sparrow's side. She grinned and looked up at the tall girl with those wide brown eyes that had seen far more than anyone her age ever should.
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe we should leave them alone," Sparrow teased and she patted Stella's shoulder. She gave the lovebirds one last look and led Stella back to Evander, who was peeking under his bandages.
"It's like nothing ever happened," he said in awe, showing the girls the faint red lines where he had been gushing blood mere days before. "Amazing, isn't it?"
Sparrow nodded. "Well, we have some great sponsors." She was tempted to wink, like she had just remembered she was on camera. All of this was, uncensored. And whatever she did, that was what she was going to be remembered for, when they played recaps of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. She had to make sure that whatever she was remembered for, it would be good.
"Seneca."
Seneca Crane turned around to see the president himself standing in the control room. He left the Gamemaker he had been speaking to and went to Snow's side, ready to grant his every request. "Yes, President Snow?"
The old man licked his puffy lips and looked at the large display in the middle of the room, which showed the locations of the remaining tributes. "I need you to speed things up. There hasn't been any excitement for days. The girl that was sick died, such a shame to watch a pretty girl vomit her own blood, but we haven't seen real bloodshed in ages. I thought I chose you for this position for a reason. You don't want to let a nation down in your first year as Head Gamemaker…do you?"
The young man swallowed and looked down at the map of tributes. There were twelve tributes left – only half of them had died in the first week. It was nothing compared to the usual bloodbath that previous Gamemakers had provided.
"We aren't supposed to be bored, Seneca. Do your job. I think District Five needs to learn a lesson." Snow had waited for a quiet moment to exact his revenge on Antonia for defying him, and here it was. "At least one of those siblings has to die eventually, don't they?" He raised his white eyebrows and then was gone, the scent of roses and blood lingering in the air.
Seneca gulped and slowly headed down the stairs so he was in the middle of the room. His eyes wandered the map, following each little number as they moved around the projection. He paused at the two fives, which never strayed far from one another. That had been consistent since the first day.
"I need a muttation attack at the east end of the river. Pen them all up in this stretch here," he commanded as his hands moved across the screen. "Break the dam. Bring in a storm. Whatever you've got to do to start a party, do it."
They had been walking for half an hour when thunder rumbled in the distance. It sounded like a cannon had sounded at the same time, but they couldn't be sure. Stella looked up at Sparrow, who in turn was looking at the sky. Gray was peeking through the canopy of leaves instead of blue, and the leaves rustled as birds flocked to a safer place.
"Great," Milo sighed. He pulled the blanket out of the bag, which he had volunteered to carry, and offered it to Moira. "Keep yourselves covered. It sounds like it's gonna be a nasty storm."
"Thank you, Milo." Moira gave him an affectionate look, smiling warmly at him. "Stella, come here. You can fit under here, too." She held up the blanket and made sure the little girl was protected by it as well. The three of them followed the Jacturnas, who had their eyes peeled for any incoming threats.
Muffled thunder rolled again and they waited for the rain to pour or lightning to strike. Nothing came yet. The wind blew for a moment, and everything was eerily quiet.
"Weird," Evander mumbled. He looked at his sister, who had furrowed her brow. She slowed down and the rest of the group followed suit. Something was off.
"Sparrow?" Moira asked, her voice soft and tinged with worry. "What's the matter?"
The blonde held up her hand as the rumbling seemed to move closer. That wasn't what thunder sounded like. Either the acoustics in the arena were off, or -
"That's not thunder." Milo's face was pale and there was fear in his voice. Before anyone could reply, there was a horrible roar from some nearby bushes. Stella screamed and clung tightly to Moira, who dropped the blanket.
"Oh, god!" Moira cried, and she slowly backed away. Milo had been right in that it wasn't thunder. Staring at them was a huge animal that came up to Moira's shoulders, and must have weighed as much as all of the kids put together. Its eyes were red with dark pupils, and when it opened its mouth all they could see were bloodthirsty fangs. The fur that covered its enormous body was colored with alternate stripes of black and beige. It looked like an extremely large, demonic cat. And it had friends.
The group was paralyzed in terror as more and more of the creatures emerged from the scenery. There had to be at least seven, and they were all growling and slowly approaching them. Their noses twitched at the smell of flesh and blood, and then the rain began.
"Just go," Sparrow hissed, and she slowly reached for her throwing axes from her backpack. "Go! Go!"
Milo broke into a run in the opposite direction, the two smaller girls close behind. The girls were whimpering and screaming as the tiger mutts ran after them, and it was a miracle they didn't slip on the muddy jungle floor. The rain was pouring and it was like swimming through a never-ending sheet of water. Milo could hardly see in front of himself, but he let his legs take charge and lead the way – to what, he had no idea, but it was better than being mauled to death. "Come on! Come on, don't stop!" He continuously looked over his shoulder to see Moira and Stella, both drenched but still close behind him. He wanted to stop, to get Evander and Sparrow, but he knew they would make it. Stopping was not an option.
"Milo!" Moira cried, and she grasped his hand. Stella was right at her side, her short blonde hair sticking to her face from the rain. The redhead held tightly to Milo and they skidded to a stop as the ground gave way to a river. The rain was still pouring and the water was rising. Sticks and dirt rushed by in the water, which seemed to be ripping things out of the ground.
"There's no way we can swim across that," Stella panted, her arms around Moira's waist. The girls looked back to see whether Sparrow and Evander had caught up to them yet, but there was no sign of them.
Sparrow was in fact trying to lure the mutts away from the others, taunting them and holding out her axes as they tried to pounce on her. She was soaked to the bone from the rain, her clothes clinging to her body and her skin visible underneath the worn-down fabric. She shook the wet hair out of her eyes and threw an axe right into the head of one of the mutts, an involuntary battle cry escaping her lips. She ran to it and yanked the axe out of its head, slitting its throat for good measure. "That's right, you bastards! I'll kill all of you if you touch us!" She was possessed by some force that was buried inside of her, that had been sleeping for all these years. She had power and she wasn't hiding it anymore.
Evander stared at his sister like she was a completely different human being. Often he would see Careers display this sort of brutal strength, unflinching as they killed for food or murdered another tribute, but his sister was doing what he should have been. He was her older brother, and he should have been protecting her. But here she was, getting drenched in the dark blood of tiger mutts, mud, sweat, and rain, and he was not scared of her. He was proud. If he wasn't going to be strong enough for the both of them, she would. He had already almost died defending her. They both had to protect each other – it was her turn now.
"Find them! Find Milo and Moira and Stella!" she screamed after lighting illuminated the scene. She had come a long way from the happy, innocent young girl who jumped into Huxley's arms when he came to visit after work. She wasn't the unsmiling, quiet girl who spent her days crying over her lost love, either. This was Sparrow Jacturna, District Five tribute. Warrior. Defender. Very likely winner of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. And Evander could not have dreamed of a better ally, by birth or by choice.
The last mutt was slayed and Sparrow wiped the blood and matted fur from her axes with her shirt. The sharp blades made long tears in the fabric and she stuffed her weapons back into her bag. "Let's go. We have to find them," she nodded to her brother. The rain had not let up, but there was at least some more sun than there had been a few minutes ago. A cannon boomed and birds shrieked at the sound. Now they were running faster, hoping against all hope that hadn't been for one of their friends.
Evander swallowed and ran with his sister to the river's edge, where Milo was carefully climbing into the water. He held tightly to one of the boulders in the river and sighed with relief, looking to the two girls who waited at the riverbank.
"Halfway there, come on. You can do it, Moira!" He smiled to the redhead, hoping to coax her into the water. "Just hold on to my hand and I'll get you across. Hold tight!" He reached for her hand and his muscles bulged as he helped to pull her into the river.
Moira whimpered and she held her breath as the water rushed over her, leaving dirt on her pale skin. "I…I can't swim, Milo," she blurted, spitting out some water. Her lower lip quivered and she gasped as he kept pulling her.
"Just push yourself to me! Come on, we're almost there…Hold on to me. I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. "I'm right here, love."
Their eyes met for one sweet, brief moment and as she eased her way towards him, Milo yelled in pain. The dirty river ran red and Moira screamed, letting go of his hand. Blood poured from his other hand and when he looked to Moira, she was gone. The only sign of her was her red hair rushing down the current.
"Shit! Oh, shit! Moira!" Milo gritted his teeth as he pulled the arrow out of his injured hand, throwing it away. "Moira! No!"
"Milo! Help!" Her voice was small, fading away as she was swept down the river. There was no sound except for the rushing of water, and then a terrible scream. A cannon. Silence again.
The others were pale as they looked at one another. Milo clung to the rock, hanging his head. His hand was bleeding profusely but he clearly didn't give a damn. He had lost something – someone – much more valuable.
"Milo, we…we'll get across the river," Evander blurted, his hands trembling. "We'll find who shot the arrow, a-and… we'll get them…" He started to reach for him so they could begin the swim to the other side, but stopped when the other boy looked up.
"I can't," Milo muttered. His eyes were bloodshot and he shook his head. "I can't do it. You win this, for me. For her." He swallowed and then let go, and Stella cried out when the river swept him the same way it had taken Moira. A few moments later, there was another cannon.
Sparrow squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around Stella, cradling the little girl and sniffling. In less than a minute, they had lost almost half of their group. The rain began to slow down and when she next looked up, it was nothing but a light drizzle. Evander was sitting at the edge of the river, his arms wrapped around his knees.
"Come on. Let's go," she whispered, slowly getting up. She helped Stella to her feet and held tightly to her hand as the three of them approached the now-passable river. It was almost cruel that they were wading across to safety, while Milo and Moira had died trying to do the same thing. They could have made it, if Milo had not been shot. Sparrow's insides burned at the idea. This was someone's doing.
They had found a small cave a couple hours later, and after Sparrow had checked it for any inhabitants, they decided to spend the rest of the evening there. They laid their things out on the floor to let them dry, and Stella spent the night cuddled up next to Sparrow. They sat quietly until the anthem started, and Sparrow went to look out the entrance of the cave.
The boy from Two. The boy from Four, which was surprising. He couldn't have drowned; the mutts or some other horrible thing must have gotten him. Moira, a hint of a smile even in her tribute photo. The gangly girl from Seven. The song ended and the images vanished. There was no Milo.
He was still alive.