Chapter 26

Glory

Drusa

I find Cato propped up against a tree. I didn't know what to think when I heard the rule change – I know I should be glad, that this will multiply the glory to District 2. But I can't help but think something different – that it'll be like splitting it up. But then I realize everyone will be teamed up now, and it's actually kind of exciting. Cato can provide the brute force and I can provide the finesse to take on all the teams. I'll go back to District 2 not just a victor, but a history maker.

It was a nice bit of news after finding all our supplies burned to a crisp.

But now that I see him, I'm not so sure. "It's okay … I already got medicine," he says with a grimace as I look at the gaping wound. I see the empty bottle by his side and sigh – I hope we don't need any later.

"You heard the rules change?" I ask as I open the pack.

"Of course I did – it was right after …" his voice trails off and he looks embarrassed.
"Who was it? Thresh?" I ask. I've been searching for Thresh everywhere but I can't locate him. I take out half the supplies I have left and give them to Cato … whenever he heals enough to get his appetite back he's going to need food.

"No," Cato says flatly.

"I'll see it on the highlights."
"It was the girl from Thresh's district and the boy from 5, okay?" I laugh hysterically. "It's not funny!"

"Of course not," I say, biting my lip to keep from laughing any more. "Don't worry … I'll take care of them," I say reassuringly. The Capitol doesn't like ice queens. "It'll be over soon. I'll come back tomorrow – maybe by then you'll be well enough to help. Or the others will all be dead."
"Yeah, yeah," he says. "Try to leave some for me."

That's when I feel the pain in my shin. I get to my feet despite the pain and look in the direction of the shot, knives at the ready – it's either Katniss or Clint.

Whoever it is, they're far enough off I can't hear them breathing. Finally I hear a rustling sound and I chase it.

I'm not that far away when I hear the sounds of a struggle and I hurry back – either it's a team or the person threw a rock to distract me, and either way I'm an idiot for falling for it. Even with the searing pain in my shin I make it back in time to find Clint fighting with Cato – he's wisely already put Cato between himself and the direction I'm coming from. Even wounded, Cato's not going to go down easily though – I almost wonder if I should just watch. Or at least, I do until Clint slips a little noose made from the thin belts that came with the sleeping bags around Cato's throat and tightens it.

I try to charge, but as soon as I'm in range to throw a knife I feel another arrow pierce my body – this one in the shoulder of the arm that was holding the knife. I drop it reflexively. He managed to shoot straight even though one arm was doubly occupied in pulling on the noose and he was trying not to get body slammed by Cato. Assuming he wasn't aiming for my head.

"Next one goes in your eye," he warns, and I know his aim was true. And then I know … he knows about the body armor I got. I curse him for being a cheater.

"Save that for Anthony – he's … just follow me, if you can," he tells me. Cato finally stops struggling, and slumps to the ground so fast Clint almost falls down with him.

"Why don't you kill us while you have the chance?" I demand bitterly. I shudder – the shoulder wound is serious. It'll kill me if it's not treated soon – and it limits what I can do – but it'll be days before it does.

"I … I don't think that's what Anthony wants," he stammers lamely.

"What the hell does it matter? Just kill me!" I demand, losing my cool a little bit.

"No," he says. I don't understand him.

I rush him one more time – this time the arrow lodges in my thigh. So much for the next one being in my eye. Of course, I wasn't lucky enough for this one to hit the femoral artery – it missed by a couple of inches. I curse him and his poisonous mercy and demand that he do it right this time. I can't get to my feet right away to force him to kill me – but he looks as terrified by my demand as the attempt. He starts to haul Cato away, and I think, "Good luck with that, Clint. He's got at least sixty pounds on you."

He leaves me bleeding but not fatally – at least not for a while. I hate him for it. I sit in the clearing and sob and scream in fury, watching the blood drip onto the leaves, while he hauls Cato away.

Eventually, I get a grip. I cut the shafts from the arrow with some difficulty and considerable pain. And then I get to my feet – once I'm over the initial shock of pain I can walk. I find a long branch and lean on it as a crutch – I do most of the work with my right leg, considering it doesn't have two arrows lodged in it. He's not hard to follow – he's silent and careful on his own, but hauling Cato he's severely handicapped and he leaves tracks a blind man could see, and the sun is starting to come up.

I'm either going to kill him or I'm going to make him kill me.