Around nine we pack our camp and cross the beach to begin our climb to the lightning tree. The bright moon sails quietly overhead, its silvery light guiding us as we move quietly through the jungle. I watch Finnick and Johanna as they hike, moving together, watchful eyes on the trees, but unintentionally in sync with each other. What are they planning, I wonder? They have to know our alliance is nearing an end as well. What does that mean for the bizarre feeling I've been unable to shake that I'm being protected?
When we reach the tree, Katniss, Johanna and I fan out, facing the jungle, while Finnick helps Beetee with the spool. Beetee finds a sturdy branch and they wind yards of the wire tightly around it, then set it aside. I thought I had a basic understanding of how this plan would work, but I clearly have no idea. Fortunately, Beetee seems very confident and works quickly and efficiently, he and Finnick passing the reel back and forth around the trunk in an intricate pattern. It's really beautiful, the shining copper glinting in the moonlight, the dark shadows of the jungle in stark relief.
Just as they're finishing, I hear the rising thunder of the wave beginning. We need to hurry. Beetee, eyes shining with eager anticipation, asks Katniss and Johanna to take the coil back down to the beach and submerge it, then run for safety in the jungle.
"I want to go with them as a guard," the words come out automatically.
"You're too slow," Beetee counters, and I begin to feel panic rising in my chest. "Besides, I'll need you on this end. Katniss will guard." I'm shaking my head obstinately, there is no way I'm letting Katniss out of my sight. "There's no time to debate this," Beetee says urgently, as he sees me open my mouth to refuse. "I'm sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now," and he places the spool in Johanna's hands.
I'm frozen with indecision. A squirming, boiling knot of fear in my belly is screaming not to let her go, I'd be crazy to let her go. But Beetee's right, I'd be a liability at best. And if I insist I go despite this, it will rouse suspicion for certain. The others have to be coming to the same conclusion about ending our alliance, I'm sure of it. I look desperately to Katniss.
"It's okay," she says calmly. "We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up."
"Not into the lightning zone," Beetee cuts in adamantly. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage."
Every word is making me more and more panicked. The very idea of her leaving makes me feel sick, but every second she stays here puts her in more danger. My brain whirls uselessly, I can't think of a way out of this.
"Don't worry," she says softly, taking my face in her hands and meeting my eyes with her calm, steady gaze. I stare into the clear, gray depths, my heart aching. "I'll see you at midnight." She leans forward and her lips meet mine, the sweet, fiery buzz of her kiss racing over my skin and sending my heart to banging against my ribs. Don't let her go.
She turns away and looks to Johanna. "Ready?"
Johanna tears herself from a silent communication with Finnick and shrugs resignedly. "Why not? You guard, I'll unwind. We can trade off later."
And as easily as that, they turn and head back for the water, trailing the fine, glinting wire behind them. I stare after Katniss as she disappears away from me into the shadows, a desperate, stifling panic rising as she fades from my sight.
Finnick puts a hand on my shoulder. "She's going to be fine," he says softly. "Johanna won't let anything happen to her." I stare back at him, incredulous. Johanna cannot survive if Katniss does. Her entire purpose here is to make sure something does happen to Katniss. He wrinkles his nose in chagrin. "You know what I mean," he shrugs.
But I don't. I have no idea what's going on in the whispers between the two of them. I don't know if Beetee's in on it, or if Mags was, or if Haymitch is. I don't know if I just let Katniss walk off to her death without doing anything to stop it.
"Let's just get this done and go find them," I say. It's no use trying to second guess what's already done, and if I think about it too much more I'm going to lose my very tenuous grasp on control.
Beetee checks fussily at the wrapping around the tree trunk, and then takes the wire-wound branch from earlier and begins to uncoil it. "Peeta, may I use one of your knives?" he asks conversationally.
Without questioning it, I hand over a sturdy, shorter blade. Beetee begins to wind the wire around the hilt, securing it to the knife.
"What's that for?" I ask curiously. I can't begin to think of a reason he'd want to have this second wrapping.
"Backup," he replies cryptically.
"It must be eleven," Finnick cuts in. He's right, the jungle to our left has come alive with the chitter of clicking mandibles. He edges further away from the sound nervously. My skin prickles as I wonder how close Katniss is to the water. She'll make it, she's quick as a rabbit and just as sure footed. There's no reason to worry. And just as the thought settles through me, the wire stretching into the jungle springs backward in a sudden tumble of golden coils.
I snap my head to Finnick and he meets my panicked gaze with his own. Leaping forward, I sprint for the jungle, desperate to get to her. As I race past Finnick, his arm whips out and he snags me from behind. I slam backward, hitting the ground hard and my head smashes against something solid. Dazed and unable to breathe, my vision wavers and spins. I hear Finnick's voice as though he's far down a tunnel. "I'll go, stay with Beetee."
The hell I will. I shove myself to my knees, clutching my head and breathing in ragged gasps. I force my feet under me and stand, wavering and trying to get my bearings. The clicking threat next to us has swelled to a buzzing hum and as my vision comes into focus I see Beetee, hands raised in front of him, as though calming a nervous animal.
"Now, just think," he says in a mild voice. "Think of everything you've been through, everything we've all been through."
My head finally clears enough that I can see what's happening. Chaff stands before Beetee, a spear clutched in his fist, pointed at Beetee's chest, a lunatic gleam in his eyes.
"You know what I've been through," he snarls at Beetee, who doesn't waver. "Seeder had her throat cut in front of me by our 'allies' as soon as the gong sounded," he growls, tears glinting on his cheeks. "Woof took a spear to his belly from that monster from 1 on the first day. What are we doing here?" he cries.
I can't make sense of what they're talking about, but I don't care at all. While they're occupied with each other, I start to inch away toward the tree line. Chaff turns on me with a snarl. "Where do you think you're going?" he demands.
"Chaff," I plead. "I have to help Katniss." I don't know why I think he'll care, I just know he's Haymitch's friend and I'm desperate.
"Help her?" he hoots, laughing like a maniac. "You can't help her! We're all dead, boy. Don't you know that yet?"
Shaking my head, I back away slowly, toward the path Katniss followed, but keeping my eyes fixed on Chaff and his raised spear, which is how I almost trip right over Brutus. His legs tangled in the snarl of wire, he slashes at me from the ground. Only my fake leg saves me, taking a ringing blow and causing Brutus to growl a curse as he disentangles himself and lunges to his feet. He swings again, his blade missing by a hair as I spin and twist out of the way, my own knife darting toward his stomach, but he evades it. He's huge, but surprisingly quick.
Trying to see every direction at once, I swing from Brutus to Chaff to Beetee. I see Beetee move toward the force field, he's clutching the wire-wrapped knife and his arm is raised above his head. Chaff sees my attention be drawn and snaps his head back to Beetee. With a guttural scream, he hurls the spear at Beetee who swings his arm down, driving the knife into the force field. The spear slashes across his arm, deflecting the blow so the knife only hits glancingly, but it's enough to blast him backward, bowling over Chaff as he's flung onto his back. Chaff lurches back, barely keeping his feet and reeling to find his balance. He grabs a tree trunk to steady himself and stands, staring at Beetee's twitching body.
Seeing he's unarmed, Brutus changes tactics and surges toward Chaff, tackling him around the waist and stabbing fiercely into his abdomen. Chaff coughs a burbling, choking sound and swings his fists down together onto Brutus' wide back, breaking his grip and shoving himself free, staggering backward. With a berserk grin, he resettles his feet to launch at the Career, but it's too late. Eyes wide with horror, he twitches jerkily, flinging his hand sideways, and the gigantic monster crawling on it is flung into the trees. His stumble has carried him into the eleven o'clock wedge and even as he realizes it, a throng of chittering, skittering, crawling nightmares swarms over him, completely covering him from head to toe. He screams and flails, a black, formless mass collapsing to writhe horribly on the ground for only a minute before the cannon booms and he goes still.
Turning away, sick and grief-stricken, I see Brutus has refocused on me. With shocking ferocity, he whips a second blade from behind him and, screaming like a wildcat, charges at me. I turn and run.
Crashing through the trees, I can hear him behind me, snarling and gaining ground. It's true, I'm much too slow. Searching desperately as I run, I scan for an open area, somewhere I can turn and fight. I need to be able to get inside his reach, and for that I need room to maneuver. A blade whistles past me, opening a stinging gash along my side and I jerk in a quick breath. Too close, this will have to do. I spin around, catching him off-guard and he skids, trying to regain control but coming close enough for me to strike. Both hands wrapped around my knife, I drive it into his side with all my strength and wrench it upward, opening a horrible, gaping wound across his ribs.
He howls and falls to one knee, but swings up his knife to catch my next blow. Face contorted with rage, he heaves himself to his feet and his blade flashes at my head. I duck under it, thanking everything I can think of he seems to have been slowed a little. He grins wolfishly as he sizes me up.
"I found your girl in the jungle, lover boy," he taunts, and my veins turn to ice. "I thought you filthy miners would have tar black blood, but hers was red as my favorite wine."
My vision swims as panic overtakes me and I begin to shake uncontrollably. He pulls himself up straight and leers with mocking triumph. There was no cannon. There was no cannon. He's lying. There was no cannon. My reeling brain clings frantically to this thought.
"Katniss!" I scream, terror pitching my voice high. "Katniss!"
"Peeta!" Relief makes my ears ring and I almost drop to the ground as my knees turn to jelly. "Peeta! I'm here! Peeta!"
She continues to call for me, and I'm certain she's trying to draw attackers to herself instead of me. I lift my gaze to the enormous Career standing between me and Katniss. My eyes narrow to slits and my lip lifts in a snarl. My knife flashes out, a slice opening across his forearm as he's a little too slow to move. But he recovers almost immediately and his wrist twists backward, slashing back at me. I barely manage to get my own blade up to deflect it, but with a twist, both knives go flying.
He grins wickedly, flexing his gigantic frame, towering over me. Enormous hands shoot out, grabbing for my throat, but I whip to the side, then quickly back as he reverses and swipes at me again. I dart backward, putting some distance between us. Predictably, he lowers his head and charges like a rabid dog. I brace myself for the collision, arms up and feet planted wide. And then, at the last possible second, I drop to one knee and he stumbles forward as he grabs for what is no longer there. Shoving upward as hard as I can with all the strength of my prosthetic leg, I use his speed to heave him up and over my shoulder. He flies backward and smashes mightily into the force field with a sizzling, zapping pop. His limp body hurtles back at me and flops into a heap at my feet. A cannon booms through the night as I stagger away, trying not to look, trying to stop shaking.
"Katniss!" I shriek into the darkness.
I thrash through the trees, stumbling, hauling myself up, dragging at vines and trunks, clawing my way back to where I heard her calling. I can just see the tree, wrapped in glinting copper, behind Enobaria who is racing toward me, away from the gigantic lightning rod. Fleeing for her life, she doesn't see me until it's too late. With a thundering crash, we smash into each other and go down in a flailing storm of legs and arms. She's dazed and stays down, groping blindly, but I leap immediately to my feet and turn back to the tree. I'm just in time to see the mighty bolt of electricity shudder through the tree and an incandescent white spark fizz upward in a line from the trunk. Throwing up my arm, my eyes burn as the entire overhead dome flares a blinding blue and then, for the second time, I'm blown backward by the concussion. Flying like a ragdoll to land in a boneless heap, motionless, breathless, useless. As the explosions begin, one thought echoes through my rapidly dimming awareness. "Katniss."