Night in District 12. Mom and I decided to eat the fruit basket and buy some other food with the extra money from Lady's milk and cheese. Mom even bought us each a cookie. People in the business district wish good luck to Katniss and us. Like we have any more ability to help the tributes than they do. It's the sentiment that matters.
A hundred or so people are watching the screens in the square, letting Mom and I be ushered to the front. The massive image boasts Katniss and Peeta sitting next to the lake, the rest of the water in the arena drained to drive the tributes to the final confrontation, waiting for Cato who is still quite a distance away. The sun, long since descended on our horizon is nearly resting upon theirs. High wispy clouds grace the sky, like slender feathers, golden-kissed in sunshine.
Peeta has improved further, patchy color caressing into his overly-ashen skin. Katniss is battered and dangerously lean, her gaunt physique barely maintaining. If Cato would ever venture back to the plain, it shouldn't matter how 12's pair are fairing. One well placed arrow would bring victory.
The Gamemakers switch Cato to the main feed. He's aggravated with the extended duration of his hunt. His stomach has thinned considerably since Katniss destroyed the provisions.
A low, gurgling growl seizes Cato's attention. His head snaps to the south, no weapons in hand. The boy takes a step south, telltale goose bumps rising on his neck.
Cato senses danger and wheels about. He bolts in the other direction. The cameras switch rapidly to keep up with his panicked flight. Something gives unearthly savage chase! Spin-chilling howls shake my bones, curl my toes. Cato hammers his way through bushes; leaping off shallow ledges, doesn't even notice his arms scraping everything nearby. Twigs and leaves tangle into the chain-mail armor covering his chest.
A broader shot takes over, from the tree tops, showing Cato's flight, directly toward the clearing a mile or so away. Bounding behind him dash huge wolves of varying colors, their movements awkward, yet swift. I have never seen a real wolf before in my life, staying well within the fence. These look enormous, as big as a man on all fours!
They run, baring sharp teeth, saliva slings from their chops as they hop effortlessly over fallen trees and bushes! Then something stranger happens. In the front, three of the wolves stand upright, racing even faster on two legs! Cato doesn't look back, his sturdy form blazing a trail of terror, bee-lining toward Katniss and Peeta.
Mom grabs my hand. Some of the bystanders point to the animals. They must be genetically modified by the Gamemakers: Muttations. They're grotesque and surreal, more of the things running on hind legs now. In the arena sky, the setting sunbeams streak across the sky, bloody to lavender to azure to pitch, halfway over the fleeing tribute.
The Gamemakers lower the volume of the pursuit and switch images to the pair by the lake. My sister is still oblivious to the coming wave of horror; Cato pursued by these unnatural beasts. Peeta watches the birds fly between the trees. Katniss sings a few notes and the mockingjays listen, repeating back the tune when she has finished.
"Just like your father," says Peeta.
My sister watches the forest, touching her pin. She speaks softly, slowly, her thoughts working through a maze to find expression. "That's Rue's song. I think they remember it."
Everyone in Panem certainly remembers it. There's something soothing about Katniss truly caring for the little tribute from another district. It's hard for District 12 residents to watch the cruelty on screen. So... unexpected to see anything else. The mockingjays sing on, their strains becoming a harmony of repetition.
The tributes from District 12 listen to the tune when suddenly the birds screech in terror, taking to flight. That awful noise of Cato's pursuing beasts rises from the forest. Peeta draws a knife and Katniss strings an arrow, standing at the ready, her glare pierces at the forest. Cato punches through the brush and charges them, his face fossilized in aggressive exertion.
Katniss fires her arrow. It thumps against Cato's chest and falls away harmlessly. "He's got some kind of body armor!" She screams.
Peeta prepares to take Cato's impact, but the boy from District 2 zips right between them, legs churning toward the cornucopia. The wolves break through the edge of the forest and run forward on two legs, no longer having to avoid the hazards in the woods.
Shock hits Katniss and Peeta and they follow Cato's path, directly for the golden cornucopia that gleams dark, chrome yellow, reflecting the tones of the evening sky. Cato has already reached the pinnacle of the horn. He falls haggardly to the metal, trying to regain his wind.
Katniss climbs up the weave along the tail of the horn, Peeta follows close. The Muttations are almost upon him! I shiver in terror. Katniss turns to help him, "Climb!" She fires an arrow and one of the wolf-things thrashes and drops with a gut-wrenching scream.
Katniss grabs Peeta's arm to pull him up the length of the horn. In the din of snarls, the Muttations gather around the cornucopia. The kids scream at each other, Cato's voice too weak to be heard. He's on his knees now, hacking.
The mutts sniff the metal and try to jump up its length, but their claws are designed for murder, not perch. One of the things roars at Katniss as it hangs onto the gleaming surface. She screams. Peeta grabs her arm. She points frantically at the howling Muttation, "It's her!"
"Who?" Peeta shouts the question being wondered aloud in the square. Katniss' eyes dart around the pack of fur and grow wider with each second. Peeta insists, "What is it, Katniss?"
"It's them! It's all of them!" Her voice breaks with disgust. "The others! Rue and Foxface and... all of the other tributes!"
Peeta sees it too; the horrible eyes of the animals almost aglow with the original eye color of each dead tribute, almost sub-human. On the Muttation's necks there are collars with district numbers stitched into the fabric. People in the square begin to moan at the appalling display. Did the Capitol really put the eyes of the dead inside these awful beasts?
My dinner comes back up with shuddering disgust. Mom pats my back. People step aside from the mess, one man hands me a handkerchief and tells me to keep it. I accept and wipe my face. The dreadful noise from the broadcast continues. Peeta says something that's confused in my ears.
Then he screams and Katniss yells, "Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!"
I'm afraid to look, although I'm more afraid of not seeing what is happening. On the screen, Peeta is behind Katniss, higher up the horn, his lower left leg a mess, blood even squirting from the bite wound with each heartbeat. Cato grabs Peeta in a headlock, Peeta thrashes, his blood spattering over Katniss.
The pack still struggles to crawl up the metal, but Katniss ignores them completely. In a scant few frames, Katniss has an arrow nocked, ready to fly into Cato's smiling face. The Career boy laughs as he backs toward the edge of the horn, over the gaping interior. "Shoot me and he goes down with me."
Katniss' aim doesn't shift even as the wheels can be seen turning behind her eyes. Peeta's leg still spurts blood down the cornucopia's curved side. One of the Muttations licks it. My stomach twists. I have nothing else to throw up. The image splits into two, one showing Cato and Peeta as the bigger boy confidently stands his ground at the edge. The other side shows Katniss her aim unwavering, face twisted into her darkest scowl ever.
Peeta solves the standoff, gingerly lifting a finger and bleeding an X onto Cato's hand, in the headlock. Katniss' lips slip upward almost unnoticeably. Cato's smile fades as he realizes what's coming. There's nothing he can do. The arrow jumps from Katniss' bow to Cato's hand and buries itself deep, pulling through completely. Cato tries to hold onto Peeta with his weakened arm. He falls and Peeta slips over the edge! Katniss grabs his shirt and yanks him back!
Cato slams into the stone at the base of the cornucopia and struggles to stand up. He draws a short knife from his ankle and swings missing the first mutt that jumps past him. Others circle around and Cato swings professionally, each slash finding some part of the Muttations. It takes a lot to stop those creatures though and with each minute of evasion, fatigue draws nearer. Adrenalin will only carry him so far past his starvation.
Katniss and Peeta hold each other, blood dripping down the golden metal. Cato's awful fight drags out for an amazing length of time. The Capitol must adore this, I grumble. Cato slashes and dodges, the mutts take their time nipping at him whenever his back is turned. Finally, a mutt behind Cato pounces and slams him into the dirt. The others are on him in an instant and the pack drags his still struggling form into the cornucopia.
And still Cato lives! The chain armor prevents the beasts from biting through his flesh. His screams are weakening, not final.
Katniss examines Peeta, his further mangled leg. She pulls off her shirt and tugs her jacket back on rapidly to block out the evening chill. Katniss wisely wraps the shirt around his awful leg for a tourniquet, twisting it tight with an arrow, her last. Peeta's skin grays toward a shade of white. "Don't go to sleep." Katniss says shakily.
Peeta's voice is distant, though still concerned for her. "Are you cold?" Peeta unzips his jacket and Katniss lays across him so he can zip it back up. They whisper to each other, microphones incapable of picking up their words over the din of Cato's tormented moaning and the mutts' ravenous gnawing on him.
We continue to watch, although nothing more happens. The cameras can't get a shot of the mutt's human feast inside the cornucopia, not for want of trying. The demented Gamemakers show every bit of evil fur they can. Revolting! The Gamemaker's playthings, unleashed for the glee of cheering fanatics in the Capitol. Peeta may bleed to death before the Games are finished, at this rate, and no one should be tortured like this, not even Cato.
The sickening show drags on for an hour until some of the business people convince us to go home. The walk is quiet. I feel dizzy. The world is an unpleasant, sickly shade of dark. Will I ever be able to get the gruesome images out of my mind or the sounds either? Mom says nothing, her own skin pale.
"Prim!" A voice calls out behind us as we near the edge of the Seam and our home. Mom and I turn. It's Madge, her golden hair flowing behind her as she runs up panting. "I wanted to see how you guys were doing."
My eyes gleam and Madge looks away blushing. "I mean, I want to make sure you're okay tonight."
"That's..." Mom starts. "very thoughtful of you, Madge. Would you like to come inside with us?"
She nods and the three of us continue into the house. It's deathly quiet. Buttercup meows faintly for attention. He hops into my lap as soon as I sit in front of the television, its screen off. No one has the willingness to turn it on.
"Would you girls like any tea?" Mom asks. I shake my head and Madge doesn't answer. "Me either," Mom nods.
Madge sits next to me flicking at Buttercup's tail, her thoughts elsewhere like mine. I scratch at the cat's neck feeling him purr into my knees.
"Madge, where have you been? No one's seen you at school for days." Words fly out before I realize they had crossed my mind.
When she doesn't answer, Mom asks, "Have you been sick, dear?"
Madge shakes her head, "I just needed some time to think things over."
I don't have the energy to inquire further. I reach forward and turn on the television. Nothing has changed. Night is full in the arena, the awful condition drags on.
We don't sleep. Not a single wink between us. Madge cries for a while, her head in her hands, her back heaving in sorrows. We don't ask why. We don't need to. My stability has been shot for the past month, my world devastated. Late into night, Madge recovers from the bout of crying and begs forgiveness, "I'm sorry. I'm-" She sniffs.
Mom rubs her back, "It's okay, dear. Don't apologize."
Madge shakes her head, "It's not that. I... I've done something that might come back against my father and..." She sobs and tries to control herself.
"What did you do, Madge?" Mom's voice is soothing, in spite of the moans coming from the television. The mayor's daughter just shakes her head in silent despair. Within minutes, she's back to her normal, calm, isolated self. Only vague, red inflammation from weeping reminds me of her outburst. Whatever she did to upset Mayor Undersee, it must be serious. I put Buttercup in Madge's lap for her comfort and stand up to make the tea we declined several hours ago.
Years seem to pass before the night does; the sun rises slowly here and finally cracks the darkness in the west. Cato's moans have died down to half-hearted, raw-voiced rasps. Only heavy breathing of the wolf-tribute Muttations accompany the image.
With morning breaking over the arena, Peeta says to Katniss, "I think he's closer now. Katniss, can you shoot him?"
She looks away from his gaze. "My last arrow's in your tourniquet."
Peeta unzips his jacket so that she can stand. "Make it count."
She pulls out the arrow, knotting the shirt. Blood still seeps out of the wound nevertheless. Katniss leans over the edge of the horn and gazes inside for a shot. In a second she's found Cato and with Peeta holding on to her legs, she shoots her last arrow into him. His death notification flashes up on screen. The agonized whimpers have ceased.
I'm leaning forward, my toes touching the floor, hands clasped in disgusted excitement. Peeta speaks hypnotically, almost dully, "Then we won, Katniss."
"Hurray for us," she replies. My sister's tone is as famished as her body. Where the feast table was, the ground splits open and the Muttations leap into the den, peaceful and calm. The ground closes. Nothing happens. No aircraft comes to retrieve Cato's body, no triumphantly menacing anthem of Panem to signal the end of the Hunger Games. Nothing at all.
"Hey! What's going on?" Katniss yells at the sky.
"Maybe it's the body." Peeta wonders. "Maybe we have to move away from it."
"Okay. Think you could make it to the lake?"
"Think I better try," Peeta nods.
The pair slides down the slick metal and stumble across the plain. Peeta hardly manages to move his left leg, dragging it almost the entire distance. Katniss gives him a drink of water and one for herself. Cato's body is snagged by a claw from an aircraft and lifted away. Still no anthem.
"What... are they waiting for?" Peeta's skin is a glassy slate of grey and white, the tone of extreme, catastrophic blood loss. I've seen it before. None of our patients who had lost that much blood survived. We have nothing to transfuse into their systems and that's the only hope they could have had. The Gamemakers could help Peeta, except they refrain from declaring the victors of the Hunger Games.
Katniss looks around on the ground. "I don't know." She wanders a small way and then kneels down to pick up the arrow that had been defeated by Cato's armor the previous night. An announcement from Claudius Templesmith commences, booming across Panem.
"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
"Oh, no." Madge moans.
My hands fall into my lap, my jaw hanging open. "Mom? Mom, how can they do that? They said they could both win... They can't just take it back!"
On the screen Katniss and Peeta stare at each other, their gaunt faces ripe with freshened sorrow. They have been toyed with, manipulated. Their puppet strings were pulled by the Gamemakers to heighten the emotional zeal of the Capitol's crowds.
Mom reaches a hand to me and runs her fingers through my hair. "I know, Prim. I know."
Madge is silent once more. Her left hand squeezed into a tight fist and pressed against her face. Her eyes are soaked and threatening to drain across her gentle face.
"It's not right!" I insist, knowing that justice isn't a concern for the Capitol, holds no bearing on their decisions.
Peeta looks at Katniss and speaks gently, "If you think about it, it's not that surprising." He takes a few steps toward her. His hand pulls a knife from his belt. Katniss swiftly strings the arrow and aims for his chest. Peeta's hand never changes course, throwing the knife away.
Katniss realizes her act exposed betrayal and drops the bow and arrow to the ground, blushing with self-loathing.
"No." Peeta picks up the bow and the arrow, almost losing his balance and puts them in Katniss' hands. "Do it."
Katniss shakes her head. "I can't. I won't!"
"Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato."
"Then you shoot me!" Katniss pushes the bow toward Peeta. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!"
Madge whimpers lightly, matching me.
"You know I can't," Peeta tosses the weapons away, his voice soft, resigned to the sacrifice. "Fine. I'll go first anyway." He pulls the tourniquet off his thigh and his remaining blood flows to the ground.
Katniss throws herself down, tries to wrap the mangled shirt around his calf. "No, you can't kill yourself." She's almost in tears.
"Katniss... it's what I want."
"You're not leaving me here alone!"
Peeta tugs Katniss' to her feet. "Listen. We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me."
His eyes glaze as his words pour from his heart. "All that Panem has to offer me is right here in the arena. All I've ever wanted from life is you. If you die here, I can never live again! I love you, Katniss. I've spent my whole life loving you."
Katniss stares at him, her eyes far-away, brow furled in concentration. Then she grabs at a bag on her belt with sudden swiftness that alerts Peeta.
"No, I won't let you!" His voice surges with strength and determination.
Katniss leans in and kisses his cheek. The two tributes stare into each other's eyes for what must be an eternity. She pours the bag's contents into Peeta's hand and then grabs a handful of the nightlock berries in her own, the dark fruit spills to the ground. "On the count of three?"
"No! Katniss, no!" My voice screams and I jump off the couch, trembling. Mom encloses me in her arms and I struggle to see the screen.
"Hold them out. I want everyone to see." Peeta's going along with this? He was giving my sister the chance to come home and she's throwing it away!
"No!" My voice yelps pitifully. "Just come home, Katniss! He wants you to come home!" I swing a frustrated fist at the screen, too far away to hit the television. Katniss gave me the same gift she's rejecting from Peeta right now. I came to grips with it! Why can't she? She has to come home!
The shots tighten on the pair of tributes, dark berries gleaming in the morning sun. "One... Two... Three!"
"Nooooo!" My voice drowns out the audio as Katniss and Peeta put nightlock into their mouths. But they don't chew or swallow. Their ears perk up to listen.
When I finally cut off my screaming, I can hear Templesmith's voice again, "am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you - the tributes of District Twelve!"
My heart almost stops. Katniss played a dangerous ruse! They spit out the berries and promptly wash out their mouths with filthy, hopefully nonpoisonous, lake water. They're both coming home; Katniss' cunning has defeated the Gamemakers' schemes. The Hunger Games has two victors this year and my sister has won!
She said she would try to win for me and I know she wanted to the whole time. Still, something deep within my stirs, wondering whether she would have gone through with the suicide, whether it was a bluff. Peeta was obviously ready to die for her. With his weak condition, he may, just yet. Was she really going to kill herself for this boy? Even if that meant not keeping her promise to win for me? Did she think about me in those seconds?
The tributes are picked up by a hovercraft and the broadcast begins to replay elaborate cuts of Peeta and Katniss, their interviews, their kills, their flights and fights. My own thoughts shift away from what might have been. I'm just ecstatic at what is.
Madge joins the celebration and jumps up and down with me. It's silly, but irresistible. It's been almost a month since I was selected in the reaping and there's finally real cause to celebrate! Mom sits down and lays back on the couch, her eyes closed, beautiful face smiling like she can finally breathe now.
When we finally calm down, the glow of joy beaming, I remember the rest of District 12. What do people do when there's a victor? We have two this year! The Hunger Games are certainly awful, but do we still celebrate as a district? Of course the families celebrate. I wonder who Haymitch's family was and how they handled his victory decades ago. Where are they now?
Madge wipes her face with her sleeve, happiness streaming down her cheeks. "Isn't it wonderful, Madge? Katniss and Peeta are coming home!"
She smiles and chokes out a few words through her joyful weeping. "Better than I ever could've hoped for."