Chapter 18

"Truss!"

Heather rushes forward and leaps into her cousin's arms. Truss winces from some injury but returns her hug. We all lower our weapons.

"Are you all right?" Heather cries as they pull apart.

"Yeah." Truss nods. "You okay?"

Heather shrugs her shoulder noncommittally. She is probably thinking about her ribs.

"She's mostly been worried about you." Foster adds. Heather narrows her eyes at him but Truss chuckles.

"Aww, were you scared?"

"Shut up!" Heather moves to punch his shoulder but he flinches away. "What is it?"

"Just some bumps. You know the Games."

"Did you fight someone?" She asks him, touching his bicep worriedly. He holds back a wince again and forces a carefree expression.

"I got the boy from Four. We fought for a while. He had been tracking me. How about you?"

"We fought the Careers. We managed to pick two off." Heather tilts her head to acknowledge the rest of us.

"I managed to grab a spear. That helped a lot." Truss says, proudly holding it up. A few leaves fall off of it, revealing it as what he was using to cut the branches.

"I got knives." Heather adds. She peers at him quizzically. "Are you ready now?"

"Sure. You ready?"

"Might as well."

Suddenly, Truss and Heather face the three of us, holding up their weapons threateningly.

"What are you doing?" Foster exclaims.

"Well, you see," Heather says, smiling viciously, "Truss and I decided that we would take care of as many as we can separately before we take everyone else out together."

"What, and then you kill each other?" I ask.

"We made a deal," says Truss. "Whoever kills the last person before the two of us gets to win. The other will willingly commit suicide."

"Yeah, let's see how long that works out," Foster growls, looking furious. "You've been playing me from the beginning. You came up to me that first day of training with that plan on how to get stuff out of the Cornucopia. It was all lies."

Heather shakes her head. "Don't take it personal Foster. It's the Games."

"If you don't fight you're a quitter, right?" I snap at her caustically.

She glares at me. "It's kill or get killed. Play or get played. I decided to play. It's not my fault if you got played."

Heather holds her knife up in a throwing stance. "And now, I'm gonna kill."

"Run!"

The words are out of my mouth before I think them. Rory, Foster and I turn sharply and sprint in the opposite direction.

Beside me I feel a whoosh of air by my ear as one of Heather's knives whizzes by and barely misses me. We do not get far before I hear the horrible sound of Truss's spear hitting a target. I turn to my left. Foster races past me.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

If Foster is still up that can mean only one thing. I turn to my right and see Rory on the ground, the spear sticking out of his back.

"Rory!" I scream, rushing to his side. He moans and I cry in relief. He is still alive! He stares up at me weakly.

I hear footsteps behind me. Before I know what I am doing, I grab my knife, vault up to my feet and stab the body behind me.

Truss gasps as the knife juts through his torso. He falls over, knocking me down with him. Distantly, I can hear Heather screaming Truss's name. Almost in a daze, I climb onto Truss and straddle him as I slash him again and again. It is a mess with blood everywhere. Truss continues to gasp as blood gurgles up his throat, leaking out onto his chin.

The sound of the cannon jolts me out of my fugue state. Below me, Truss's eyes are still wide open but he is no longer breathing.

With a roar, Heather snatches the collar of my fleece jacket and harshly yanks me back and pulls me off of Truss's body. I land on my back and Heather glares down at me angrily. Her face is so contorted in rage that she looks like a different person. She has her other knife mounted and ready in her fist.

Abruptly, she is forced back as Foster tackles her, knocking the knife out of her hand. Foster and Heather are full on wrestling now. They roll down past some trees and out of sight. But I barely notice, my mind is frozen as I keep staring at Truss's body.

I killed him.

That's when I hear a weak, "Madge?"

At once I am at Rory's side, dropping the knife. "Rory? Oh, Rory I am so sorry. Look, I'm sure I can fix you up-"

But Rory is shaking his head.

"No, no I can Rory!" I look around desperately. I need something from a sponsor. I look up at the sky and call out, "Help! Please! Help us!"

"It's okay Madge-"

I look down at my bloody hands, crying. "No. No, it's not all right. I…I was going to make sure you won. That you got back home, to District Twelve."

"District Twelve."

I look up at Rory's face and he is smiling. Through my tears, I start to smile too.

"District Twelve," I say, "Where there's soot and coal everywhere. And it always smells like a fire's burning. And no matter where you go at least two people are starting an argument over nothing."

Rory laughs lightly.

"And there's your mother," I continue, "Hazelle is bent over a stove or a bucket of wash, scrubbing away. And Posy is 'helping' but really she's twirling in the corner or playing with some flowers. And Vick is bent over a notebook, scribbling away. And then Gale comes home from the mine. And Posy cheers and runs over to him and he scoops her up so she can touch the ceiling."

Rory slowly lifts his hand. I clutch it tightly.

"If I'm there, I am trying to offer my help but no one will let me. So I take you kids outside and you all run around and make a toy out of any old object. It always amazes me how you all can make a pebble or a stick fun."

Rory's eyes are closed now. My words are coming out in short bursts as I try to hold in my tears.

"Then the Everdeens come over for supper. They've brought a turkey and we're all excited to try it. Prim has made a dandelion salad. Prim immediately joins you all in the yard. Katniss and Gale join me and we sit on the front stoop and watch you guys run around. And Peeta comes by with a big loaf of bread, that's still warm and smells amazing. And then Hazelle sticks her head out and yells 'Dinner!' so loud that all the neighbor kids get jealous. Then you yell 'Last one there gets cooked in Greasy Sae's soup!' and we all run inside as fast as we can."

Rory's body stills and his breathing stops. I collapse onto his body and sob as the sound of his cannon rings out throughout the arena.

I am still crying when I hear footsteps. I sit up quickly and see Foster return. His nose is bleeding and his shirt has a large tear down the front.

"She ran off. Almost had her but she's faster than me."

I nod, letting go of Rory's hand. It falls limply to his side.

Foster kneels next to me. "I heard the cannon."

I keep nodding. I pull out the spear, wincing as it catches in Rory's body. I set it aside and gently roll Rory over onto his back. The injury looks worse since all the blood seeped out and puddled underneath him. I cross his arms over his body so it can cover some of the wound.

Foster just looks at me sadly as I methodically go through these motions. I am still weeping but it is not huge sobs anymore. I feel as if I have stepped outside of my body, like I'm watching myself from a distance rather than doing this myself.

Rory resembles a proper corpse now. It hurts to look at him. I stand up too quickly and my side aches in protest, but I barely register it. I just walk away. Foster follows me.

"Can't believe she betrayed us. She was my first ally."

"Well, we all knew this alliance only went so far. Just ask Paisley," I say.

"Yeah, but to have an alliance behind our backs like that? No wonder she was so desperate to find him," says Foster, rubbing his hand over his face, wiping away some blood.

I have to sidestep Truss and his innards. My stabs were so disgusting. "I'm no good with a knife. That was pure luck with him coming up behind me."

"I think he was gonna try to break your neck or something," says Foster. He picks up Truss's bag from beside his body as I pick up the knife from the ground.

"You can keep the spear. I'm no good with that either."

"All right."

"We each have a knife, right?" I ask him as I grab Rory's pack from the ground.

"Yeah."

"I think we should split up now."

"What?" Foster stares at me, shocked.

"Look, Foster," I say, picking up my own pack, "I don't want to kill you, so I think it's best we just split up now."

"Don't you think we should wait 'til-"

"No," I say firmly, kneeling down to pull items out of Rory's pack. I begin splitting up his share of the supplies.

"Wait, Madge," Foster says pleadingly as I shove things into my pack. "Can't we-"

"No," I repeat. I grab Truss's pack from Foster and dump it onto the ground. There isn't much. The most valuable things are a water skin, a box of matches, and an extra set of gloves. I pocket the matches and give Foster the rest.

Foster huffs in annoyance, crouching down next to me. "Why are you-"

"Because I just decided that I am going to win this thing," I announce, staring straight into Foster's gray eyes. "I am going to win for Rory, for his family. For Hazelle and Gale and Vick and Posy. I'm going to win for Sprig and Paisley. I'm going to win for my mother, for my father, for my Aunt Maysilee. I'm going to win for Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta."

I have finished splitting the supplies evenly enough. I shove some at Foster, who is staring at me in disbelief.

"I'm going to win for District Twelve," I continue, my head held high. "For every single person-no, for every child that has ever been in the Hunger Games. I am going to win this thing no matter what. And I don't care who stands in my way anymore."

I stand back up. Foster follows me up, beginning to look lost.

"So, Foster, you're the only person still alive here that I like so I suggest we go opposite directions and hope we never run into each other again."

And with that, I turn from Foster and walk as far away from Rory, and all the pain that comes with him, as I can.

Please don't hate me.