A/N: DOUBLE UPDATE!
The rain shuts off suddenly, much like the storm in the last arena did. There is a soft fog slinking across the tree floor from the direction of the rain. There are tendrils that reach forward, curling like fingers as if they are crawling across the damp soil. It is uniform, unnatural in the way it moves. Soon a sickly odor emerges.
"RUN" Katniss shouts into the night, practically screeching as she hastens over to Peeta's side and rattles him awake. Finnick and I shoot up from the ground and look to see a wall of fog inching its way toward us. In the few seconds it had taken to wake us, blisters start to form. Scrambling for our weapons was a struggle. My spear seemed to slip out of my fingers. My haste only worsened my agility, further prolonging the escape from the hut.
Tiny, searing stabs, the droplets of mist sear against skin. When Katniss had first shouted I had thought the Careers had tracked us down, but now I can see it was the Gamemakers. There was nothing going on, we were far too peaceful for them to get entertainment out of, so they sent this toxic mist our way.
Peeta is still sluggish, unfortunate, as he is the slowest out of all of us. His leg and the whole dying yesterday thing, really slow him down. We are all running, keeping pace with him, but it is too slow. The undergrowth and vines are tripping us, the fog is gaining quickly, right on our heels. There is no time for rest. Even a moment and we will be among the poisonous fog. It licks at our back, burning as we all took turns trying to push Peeta forwards. Eventually, Finnick just hoists him up over his shoulders and we all continue running. We all picked up speed then, but the fog did too.
The chemicals from the fog find our skin, cling, and burrow down to our bones. It stings and sears, like the most intense burn of the sun. It reminds me of when I saw a fisherman at the docs at home, covered in red blisters. The jumpsuits are no help, they don't protect us, the fog sears through it. Finnick is getting tired. Peeta is no longer coherent and Katniss has a limp arm. My leg is twitching. I can feel spasms up and down the length of my leg. We are surrounded by it, thankfully not the thick of it, for we would surely be dead. But the initial tendrils are upon us.
Finnick is pointing, and I am trying to follow it. I am stumbling and tripping over every vine I come across, my leg limp and useless. Katniss had come back for me and threw my shoulder over hers and we are hobbling after Finnick. We are moving at a diagonal down the hill. Trying to keep a distance from the mist while steering us toward the water that surrounds the Cornucopia.
We are lagging behind the boys. My leg is stiff and numb, and Katniss is getting too weak to help me. Now we are supporting each other. We keep falling down and it gets harder and harder to get back up. We keep pulling at the vines and trunks to straighten up. There is no way we both make it. That thought hit me. There is no way we both make it.
No. This can't be it. I was supposed to have more time. I was supposed to say hello to Ridley and Dad again. I was supposed to go back to our weekly dinners with Mags, Annie, and Finnick. I was supposed to tell Finnick I love him. I was supposed to make it to 13. I can't go yet.
Katniss and I are no longer holding onto each other. It wasn't working, we kept pulling each other down. Now, we just run side by side and help yank the other up when we fall. Time and space are getting fuzzy. The fog changing perspective. It didn't just sear into my skin, but into my mind. I can't feel anything. My arms are gone; uselessly hanging around my frame. My legs are numb, but I am still pushing. Still running despite it. Somewhere my will to live is winning against my body's need to shut down.
Finnick collapses, Peeta still on top of him. There is no stopping. Katniss and I end up tripping over them. This is how we all die. We failed. At least Finnick is here beside me. His eyes are closed, incoherent. But in my last moments, I take the time to travel across his face. Taking in every detail, every sharp bone, pull of muscle, every hair on his face.
Everything is white. Far whiter than I imagined it being…Someone is mumbling. Trying to say something, but my eyes are far too heavy to open, and my mind far too tired to interpret their voice.
"-hees" Peeta. Peeta is talking now I think. "Mon-hees". Monkeys? Some sort of mutt. I am too tired to care now. Apparently, we are out of danger. The fog didn't get us for some reason. There is some ruffling, a shift of movement. I can't tell if it is Peeta or Katniss, but the sound is far too loud for it to be a monkey. I can't bring myself to move.
Someone starts to drag me, I think it is Katniss. I can feel the sand underneath me. Grainy, it stuck to my skin, it hurt. Then a new pain entered my body. It shot to my nerves and I blacked out for a moment. Water. It hurt really bad. I am whimpering. Pathetic, but I can't help it. The water is lapping at my legs, the salt burning. Is this how Katniss kills me? By water. A district 4 victor dying by water.
After a few moments the pain lessens, it still lingers, but there is a different sensation. Relief. Someone is pulling at my jumpsuit, but my arms are still numb and useless. I can't do much to help. Handfuls of water are dumped onto me. The cycle of pain to relief continues until I can open my eyes and move a little. Katniss helps me into the water. We go slow. First up to my knees, then my thighs, then hips, and so on. The longer I am in the water the more coherent I am. My mind starts moving again, and I can think. Finnick is alongside Peeta who has been helping him while Katniss has been easing me into the water.
By the time we get to my head, I am stable enough that Katniss can go help Finnick. I am aware enough to know we are in a dangerous position. It is night, but the moon is bright enough that we are not concealed. We are out in the open, vulnerable, and in no place to defend ourselves. We are lucky no one has attacked us yet.
Peeta has left to go tap a tree while Katniss watches over Finnick and me. Her mother is a healer, which makes her more qualified than the rest of us to deal with injuries. As Finnick and I get stronger we start performing more and more obscure moves in the water. I feel like a kid again, dodging and swirling around in the water. I let myself float, letting the waves lap. A bit of home here. The beach and water are where I am more comfortable. Of course, Finnick was more interested in playing. We ended up wrestling each other, yanking each other down, pushing the other's head under. Finnick and I even had a competition to see who could hold tier breath the longest. He won, which he will probably end up holding over me. I don't really care now though. I am just grateful enough to be alive.
Katniss didn't like Finnick and I's shenanigans, "Don't do that"
"What? Come up or stay under?"
"Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave," I say. "Or if you feel this good, let's go help Peeta."
We shouldn't linger on the beach unless we have to. It is far too open. We end up getting out of the saltwater, dripping wet. I put back my jumpsuit on, and Finnick tries to fix his. Peeta had to cut it. I wasn't complaining though.
We were silent as we trekked over to Peeta, but the chattering had stopped. Katniss paused and ended up grabbing onto my forearm and Finnick's elbow. Following her gaze, up and up, our eyes lifted to see a mass of warm bodies. There are so many of them, just breathing was enough to hear them. The air was ominous. It was tense, like waiting for something to fall. Katniss drew her bow, and Finnick adjusted his trident. I still managed to hold onto my spear.
Katniss breaks the silence, "Peeta…I need your help with something."
"Okay, just a minute. I think I've just about got it," he says, still occupied with the tree. "Yes, there. Have you got the spile?" He hasn't noticed them yet.
"I do. But we've found something you'd better take a look at,-" her voice was measured. "-Only move toward us quietly, so you don't startle it.". I don't know why she didn't tell Peeta, but she must have had a reason. She has been hunting far longer than anyone else in this arena so if she doesn't want him to know right away Finnick and I will follow her lead.
Peeta turned around to us, panting from carving up the tree. "Okay," he says casually. He ends up moving towards us and everything is going alright until he hits 5 yards away from us. I don't know how, but he became aware of them, his eyes dart upwards for a second. That is all it took.
The monkeys burst into a screeching mass of orange fur and converge on him. I've never seen any animal move so fast. They slide down the vines as if the things were oiled. Leap impossible stretches from tree to tree. Fangs bared, hackles raised, talons shooting out like daggers. Mutts. Not monkeys.
There were so many. For every thrust of my spear, another took its place. Katniss was shooting arrows at an unmeasurable rate, Peeta was slashing and hacking every mutt that got in reach, and Finnick was gutting them like fish. We tried to form a kind of circle, backs pressed together. There were so many mutts though, all coming at different angles and heights. The formation was quick to dissipate and then return again. I am reminded of the simulation during training. Finnick and I back to back, ducking under each other to cover, tossing our weapons freely between each other.
A mutt leaped at Katniss, her back turned. Before it could reach her it met the tip of my spear. It was lodged in deeply so I had to step on it to yank it out. Katniss, who didn't even know she was a target to the mutt, turned to me. I think this is truly the first time she trusts me to watch her back.
We are all there for each other, when our back is turned the others protect it. When a mutt launched itself at me I was knocked to the ground. My spear buried in it I stood up again. Before I could unlatch it from my weapon another came diving at me. A trident found its home in its chest. It dropped dead, lifeless.
"Duck"
My spear went flying over Finnicks head and it found itself buried in a mutt's eye. He tossed his trident to me and started using my spear. We switched back a few minutes later when protecting Peeta from a mutt. Eventually, Katniss ran out of arrows, now using a knife, like Peeta. When a mutt flung itself at me it caught the handle of my spear between its sharp teeth. It snarled and chomped. It bit through it. It bit through metal. Okay…
I still have a weapon. Katniss had slashed its back and it fell dead at our feet. My dual spear was just two smaller spears now. I can still make that work. It just no longer has the range it used to.
Katniss screams, her yell broken, choppy from emotion, "Peeta!"
Looking over to find him weaponless. She was out of a long-range weapon and had no way to help him. A monkey hurled itself at him, straight for his chest. There is no way one of my spears will get there in time…
Still, the smaller broken spear in my left hand slipped from my hands, muscles aimed and taunt, launching it through the air. Before it could make its home, there was a body. One moment not there the next reeling in front of Peeta. Bloody, with her mouth open in a silent scream, pupils so large her eyes were black. The female morphling from 6 throws herself in front of him, arms up as if she was ready to embrace the monkey, embrace death itself, as its sharp fangs sink into her chest.
My spear finds its way to the mutt, but it is too late. She is gone.
"Come on, then!" Peeta shouted, panting with rage. "Come on!"
"Get her," Katniss said to Peeta. "We'll cover you." And we do. Between Katniss, Finnick, and I, Peeta was able to lift her up and carry her to the beach. The mutts were withdrawing, climbing up the trees. A silent voice called for them to retreat. The death of a tribute is enough to sate the gamemakers hunger.
Peeta laid her out on the sand, and Katniss was quick to inspect her injury. I already knew she was gone though. Blood tricked down her chest. If not the injury, the absence of morphling will certainly kill her. It is apparent even now. Her skin is sagging and sickly green. Her ribs are far more prominent than they should be. Her eyes were as vacant as ever.
"I'll watch the trees," Finnick said heavily, before walking away. I followed him to watch his back. There were no more left. Only the orange pelts lining the ground. We stayed there for a while, observing. Hoping none would come back. When none did, we searched the ground for missing weapons. Knives and arrows were recollected, and when a few mutts stirred they met their end quick. A canon fired. Signifying her death. Another one dead who knew the plan. Seven left.
When we got back to the beach her body was floating out into the water, a hovercraft appeared and its claw dropped, grabbing her quickly and she was gone.
"Thought you might want these." Finnick and I dropped the bloody arrows beside Katniss on the sand.
She stood up, "Thanks," and waded into the water. Starting the process of washing the blood off of her. Both the mutts and the District 6 Victor. Peeta was still sitting on his knees. He had a blob on his cheek, it looked like a flower. We didn't ask. Just sat with him. I think it is the first time someone died in his arms. There isn't much like it. I remember when Lacey died. Something about seeing death that close…
I ended up grabbing the spile from him and turned to go back to the trees. The thing that started this whole mess. I was halfway there when the vines shifted. When they straightened back, the carcasses were gone. It was still dark. Only the moon offered any light. So much had happened in the past few hours. I made my way over to the trunk Peeta had carved out. It was smooth again. I ended up carving it out just to spite the gamemakers. I ended up getting some more water. Collecting it in some shells I found and brought it back over to the group. Peeta was still silent and frozen. He hadn't moved. We all just sat in silence.