21. And Answer
When I open my eyes again, I am alone, crouched in a fetal position. At least, I think I am. Straightening up, I realize that the rest of my allies are lying face down in the sand, knocked out cold. Our worst nightmare is hovering above us, and clucking his tongue. "Who knew that they would be so easily taken down?" He has something in his hand, something I can't quite identify. Our nightmare shrugs. "Oh well." His hand glints, and he goes in for the kill, and Fang is the first on his list.
If anybody else was in my place, they would've screamed as the knife plunges into Fang's body. But I knew that the only way I could really stop the winged boy from killing my allies was to kill him first. Without thinking, I hurl myself at the beast and catch him at the waist. He yelps slightly, and we fall to the ground in a heap. I pluck my knife from my belt and try to find a place in the mutt to sheath my weapon. It finds his side, and I grit my teeth and twist it in all the way to the handle. The beast howls out sonic waves, making me buckle in pain. We switch positions, and now he is leaning over me, panting and frowning at me with his deep red eyes. He quips something at me, but his last sonic attack is still pulsing through my ears and drowning out anything my attacker might say. Finally, the beast raises a hand to the light and in it glints my knife wet with his blood. I want to look away, but I can't; I am mesmerized by the blade coming down to meet my flesh.
The sharp agony shoots up and down me as the tips digs into my chest and stays there. Based on the point of the pain, I can only guess that someone has stopped the mutt halfway, causing the knife to notch itself under my heart instead of in it. Everything starts to go in and out of focus until it makes me dizzy, but my limbs feel on fire and I can't seem to move and relieve myself of this vertigo. Someone shouts something, and it vibrates in my ears. I feel their rough arms pulling me back into the jungle, into safety. They prop me up against a tree, in the cool shade, and pulls the blade from its place, jostled in between two of my ribs under my heart. I think I feel myself scream and vomit all over my suit, but I can't be sure. Closing my eyes, I am left alone with this one person taking care of me while the action takes place back on the shore.
As I sit in the shade, I can't help but wander back to my never-ending list of questions. Mentally pilfering through, I finally find one that I can focus on, to keep myself away from thinking about the burning pain in my chest.
Why were Ella and Valencia Martinez so important?
I know that if they weren't pertaining to my mutated allies, they wouldn't be sent in the Hunger Games. So what did they do that sent them on a one-way trip to their own demise? Based on what I've seen with the limited interaction between Ella and Iggy, they knew each other long before the Quarter Quell. They might have even been in love. Not quite sure how love could bloom in a laboratory, but it's not that uncommon. Love can grow almost anywhere—just look at my parents, or my fabricated relationship with Peeta.
It could have something to do with this name that keeps surfacing with the bird kids; someone named Max. Who could that possibly be? I remember Gazzy saying once that he felt as if someone was missing. Could it be Max?
…
"Dylan!" Angel screams, and the knife in his hand plunges halfway into Katniss's chest and stops. He clambers off of her, and onto his knees in a hurry. Switch the cameras. Find someone else to look at. Angel pleads in her head, and pushes the thought off into Plutarch Heavensbee somewhere outside of the arena. The girl doesn't have time to ensure that her message is received, and she turns her attention to the boy coughing at her feet.
He looks up at her, his turquoise eyes wide and terrified. "Angel?" he whispers. Then something contorts his body, and the beast programming takes over again. He looks into Angel's blue eyes with his blood-colored ones. He snarls, "You really thought that could work?"
"It was worth a shot," she says under her breath, and whips out her white wings. She takes off, hoping to buy the rest of the flock enough time to remove Katniss from the scene and help her take down Dylan. "Let's see if you remember how to fly!" she shouts down at him.
Tucking something into the back of his jeans, Dylan starts to pump his dark chocolate wings and shoots up to follow the young girl. As she goes as fast as she can into the air, she instructs Fang to hide Katniss in the jungle and pushes the message along.
Back on the ground, Fang collects the command and sits up rubbing his head. He shakes Nudge awake harshly, and looks around to find his ally convulsing and bleeding out onto the sand. "Okay, Everdeen," he grunts as he shuffles over to pick the girl up. "Time to move you." With that, he lifts the oddly light hunter up, her head and the grip of the knife embedded in her ribs leaning against Fang's chest. Finding a cool place just on the border between the sand and the jungle, the winged kid sets Katniss down against a tree. "This is only going to hurt…a lot." He quips nonchalantly and pulls the knife out from his ally's chest. She roars, leans over, and vomits all over herself.
Fang sits back on his heels, tilts his head, and looks over the girl. "So am I going to have to clean you up or what?"
As he says this, the dark-looking boy hears Angel scream in terror, and runs off to help his little, well, angel.
"I don't want to hurt you!" Angel cries breathlessly, and takes a dive as the beast swings at her in the air. Squealing, the little girl touches down on the beach and runs to Fang. "I can't do anything, Fang! Every time I try and get into his head, something pushes me out!"
The older boy leans down and puts a hand on her shoulder. He looks her square in the eye. "I know that you two were close friends before…" he shakes his head. "Look, Angel, sweetie, I don't think we can take him down without hurting him. We have to do whatever it takes to survive and get out of here. Do you understand?"
She nods numbly. "Just don't kill him."
Standing up, Fang shakes his raven-like wings open and steels himself. "No promises," he mutters, and shoots up into the air. He is ready to taste blood.
Dylan's blood.
"DYLAN!" the dark boy shouts over the wind. His target grins, and pushes his latest opponent, Gazzy, into Nudge and they fall back down to the arena in a heap. Iggy is hovering in the background as he tosses something back and forth with his hands. Fang knows exactly what it is. As he flies past his blind friend, he reaches out and taps him twice on the hand. Wait for my signal.
"Oh, Fang, nice of you to finally join us," the beast shouts back, cracking his knuckles. "I was wondering when we would finally have our showdown, just you and me."
"We've had a showdown, Dylan! We were friends before…" again, Fang stops himself. "What happened?"
"Who knows?" the beast bellows. "In all seriousness, Fang, who the hell cares? Everyone knows I'm the better fighter. What does matter is right here, right now. And right now, I am about to tear your freaking heart out." And with that, he lunges for Fang, a dripping blade gleaming in his hand.
He swerves out of the way, but not without a scratch; the knife digs slightly into his left wing. Angrier than ever, Fang throws his attacker a punch in the face, causing blood to spurt out of his nose, and the beast barrels backwards in the air. When he stops moving, Fang goes in again and kicks him square in the chest. He hears the beast's breath leave him with an oof, and the raven-like boy can't help but let a little satisfaction fill him up.
"Who's the better fighter now?" Fang taunts.
For a moment the tribute can't hear anything. And then there is this low, ominous chuckle. Fang squints at the beast and watches as he goes from a quiet chuckle to an all-out super-evil-genius laugh, as blood trickles from his broken nose. Then the beast looks at Fang with his cold eyes and says, "I am."
And then he begins to roll his neck clockwise. As he does, Fang watches in horror as the blood clears up, and his nose straightens. The stab-wound on his side that must have only come from Katniss closes up until there's nothing left but a puckered scar. His wings, if anything, grow fuller and bigger than they were before. Finally, the beast sets his eye back on his enemy and says with a demon's grin, "Gotcha."
All Fang wants to do now is punch Dylan in his goddamn perfect face. But he composes himself, knowing that if the beast didn't, Angel would kill him, and make it ten times worse. So he just shrugs, sticks his hands into his belt like it has pockets, and starts to fall feet first, his wings closing against the wind. When he gets to about 20 feet above the surface, Fang snaps his wings back open against the wind current, banks to the left and yells, "Iggy! Double time, eight o'clock!"
With that, the blind boy throws two disks at the beast's direction, and ducks down just in time before his bombs explode and send Dylan rocketing at 90 miles an hour towards the ground.
A/N: Mad Genius Iggy to the rescue! He has been known to make a bomb out of virtually anything.