Katniss's POV
On day eight I find myself clambering through the woods behind Peeta, turning over well-done thoughts again and again in my head-thoughts that have been plaguing me since Peeta's injury. Everyone we left behind, including my family, has either been shot down by the hovercrafts we spotted in the sky or are barely surviving off of some rations as they try to cure themselves of the illness most of them contracted. Maybe Gale was able to recover and is hunting for them? Then, at least they wouldn't starve. Maybe they all recovered and decided to try and follow our path? I shake away that idea. I shouldn't become too hopeful.
The second thing that nags at me is what has become of our district? We didn't see the fire, but we saw the hovercrafts. We didn't hear anything, but for the remainder of that day my stomach wouldn't stop twisting with discomfort. As if I knew something was terribly wrong.
Traitor. The word pierces me. Everyone in Twelve, from the Seam or Merchant-born, you betrayed and abandoned them.
No! No, I was just trying to help my family. I needed to save them. But… if my home really has been reduced to nothing but ashes of death and decay, then it is completely my fault. Nobody else could be blamed for President Snow initiating those orders. I couldn't convince him of my love for Peeta.
Somehow, I am fueled by pure determination to reach Thirteen in order to find out the truth of these matters. And to make sure Peeta's arm isn't permanently impaired. I tend to tense with worry every time I see him pale and lower himself to the ground for several minutes. Just yesterday morning, he nearly collapsed against a tree due to his overwhelming pain. He hardly bothers to mention to me how he is feeling. I tried my best with that sling I made him, but it never dawned on me until now that he might need surgery in order to fix it.
Great, just another one of his limbs that I might not be able to save.
After one of his collapses, I ordered him to walk in front of me so I could observe when he got tired. He wasn't too happy about this, probably because he can watch me better when I'm leading us. I remember rolling my eyes and reminding him that this isn't the like the games. Nothing will happen to me if I walk behind him. Besides, I'm the one who is sound enough with a weapon to defend us should anything happen.
"Doing alright back there?" Peeta calls over his shoulder. I realize that neither of us has said a word for a few hours. My eyes leave the leaf-littered forest floor and stare up into his kind blue gaze.
"Yeah," I shrug. "How about you? Need a break?"
"Nope. I'm feeling pretty good today," he gives me a grin before proceeding ahead. I try to smile back, but I know Peeta too well. He's been assuring me this for the past three days. I reach into my bag and pull out our water container. I hurry up to him and place it in his hand. He gulps some down and passes it to me to do the same.
"We could just walk side by side for a bit," Peeta suggests as I slip the container back into the bag. I guess there's no harm in that.
"Okay," I reply, staying beside him. I shouldn't be surprised when he reaches down and takes my hand, but I'm still getting used to displaying physical affection just for the sake of it. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, there are no cameras to watch us, nobody to judge us or to inform us to act a certain way. If we want to hold hands just for each other, then we can. I discover that I don't mind this. In fact, there is something relieving about it. There is no ulterior motive behind our gestures, just our feelings. I squeeze Peeta's hand, feeling the familiar, calloused warmth of his fingers.
"Peeta, what do you think will happen if we make it?" I ask him quietly. Maybe it's better to talk out my thoughts than keep them locked away and churning. And what better person to ask than the one walking next to me?
Peeta lets out a breath. "Truthfully, I don't know. But… I think they'll inform us that Twelve has been bombed," he gets out, his voice tinged with sorrow. My hand clenches around his even tighter at the thought of his family. This is my fault. My fault. I can't get it out of my head. I pass a hand over my face, a quiet whimper escaping my lips. Peeta's arms engulf me in a second.
"I'm sorry-I'm so sorry. They may not be dead, but I-I-" I choke as Peeta shushes me. His hands sneak up around my face and brush away the hot, fresh tears spewing from my eyes.
"Stop blaming yourself. I know that's what you've been doing these past days. You didn't know what the consequence would be. You made the best choice you could think of," he murmurs gently, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. It's baffling how his words somehow always soothe me. I take in a shattered breath and blink rapidly to force my tears to stop. I know Peeta will insist that it's okay for me to cry, but for once I need to remain strong. No matter what has happened to either of our families, I have to get us to Thirteen. We're nearly there. Only four more days left.
By nightfall, both Peeta and I are terribly worn out and famished. I try and shoot some easy prey which happens to be a few squirrels. I cook the squirrels over a small fire until they are crisp and blackened. Even without anything to spice the meat, it doesn't taste too bad when cooked well. Midway through my meal, I find Peeta suddenly sick of his food. A few tears stray down his face.
"My father," he replies simply when he catches me staring. With a pained expression, I nod, reaching over to take his hand. Just like he always does for me, I begin drawing circles on the back of his hand to comfort him. He gives me half of a smile through his tears, and I brush my lips against his cheek, leaving small kisses.
It is well past twilight when I stomp out the fire. Peeta and I huddle close together, layering our sleeping bags over each other. Even in the late spring months, it's still chilly at night in the forest. My head rests comfortably in the crook of Peeta's arm with my hand just along the collar of his shirt. I enjoy feeling the heat radiate off his skin and into my fingertips. Soon, I feel peacefully subdued, utterly comfortable in his arms, and nearly asleep when I hear a strange sound near me. Almost like the sizzling boil of stew on a stove.
I squint my eyes open, wondering if I forgot to diminish some remains of the fire. No, the logs are dark and not smoking. A sudden cold and sinister sensation creeps across my middle. I peer down to see a gleaming white snake slither across the sleeping bag. A shriek builds up in the back of my throat, but I force it down. I take in a slow, deep breath through my nose, trying to keep my limbs completely frozen.
I have dealt with snakes before, some even poisonous, out in the woods with Gale. Usually, they are sleeping under the bushes or perched on a rock, and we just avoid them and continue hunting. As long as you don't provoke the snake, it should leave you alone. Like most other animals, snakes will only attack you if they feel like their territory is being threatened. I need to just remain still and let the snake pass over us and back into the woods. Good thing Peeta seems to be asleep. Unfortunately, I don't think he'd know how to react. He'd probably try to shake the snake off which could cause us problems.
I try to wait silently, my eyes half-open so I can observe the thing. It makes another hissing noise, causing my skin to crawl. I have never seen a white snake before, especially not this big. They aren't very common in the Appellation area. This one is fairly wide, almost the size of my forearm. Its scales seem to glitter blue, green, and gold, creating almost a mesmerizing appearance.
It soon moves, its body curling in on itself, looping around and around. The head moves upward, creating a wide arch. Suddenly, with gleaming red eyes, it towers above Peeta's face ready to strike. I forget my plan of staying still and sit up, grab my bow, and whack the snake away as hard as I can. It flys through the air, landing in the brush.
After a moment, a series of piercing hissing sounds come from the bushes. Not one, but two snakes rush out at us. I yell to Peeta that we have to run, jostling him from his sleep. His blue eyes snap open in alarm as I grab his good arm to try and yank him up. Just then, something sinks itself deep into my leg above the knee. I cry out, causing Peeta to fully come to his senses. He snatches up a large rock and slams it into the snake's head. Disgustingly blue gunk showers us. I wipe the stuff off of my face as we take off through the woods with the second snake following close behind us. We try to get rid of it, but it's faster than any snake I have encountered. I have a fearful realization that it must be a mutt. No snake that large or exotic could survive naturally in this environment. If we can't outrun it, we will have to kill it. We reach some tall trees, and I begin to pull myself up.
"Peeta, hide! It will follow me up the tree, and then you can kill it from behind," I tell him hastily. Peeta doesn't reply, but I know he will follow through because he disappears behind some bushes. As I ascend up the tree, I glance back to see the white reptile sliding up the trunk. I keep climbing until I hear some strangling noises. I catch sight of Peeta suddenly holding the snake on the ground with his feet. It whithers around violently, fangs out ready to kill him. Its tail whacks Peeta several times in the face before he can force it down with his hand.
I begin clambering down the tree to help him when he grabs a knife out of the backpack and slices its head clean off. The most disturbing part is that the snake's body keeps moving, spraying bright sapphire blood everywhere. I spring down from the tree, and Peeta and I keep running, not daring to stay to see if the severed body will die or attempt to follow us. We reach a small clearing, and I suddenly crumble to the ground. My limbs feel weak and shaky, and a buzzing current spreads throughout me. I feel like a hot wire filled with toxic electricity.
"Katniss!" Peeta yells, gathering me in his arms. "What's wrong? Did you get bitten?" My eyes wander down to my leg, trickling with blood.
"Yeah. Before we were running," I stammer. My mouth feels dirt dry, even my tongue is buzzing. If that snake really was a mutt, then I should be dead in minutes. Who knows what type of genetically engineered poison the Capitol concocted in those creatures? The snake's venom is already entering my veins and infecting my blood. What made it worse is that instead of staying still, I was moving at full speed causing the venom to spread more quickly throughout my body.
"Oh God, no. What do I do?" Peeta asks urgently, his pupils dilated with fear. His hands begin to shake as he takes hold of my injured leg.
"The only way to stop this is… is you have to suck the venom out," I explain to him. "It won't get rid of all of it-it may not even work, but-but it's better than nothing."
I remember my father telling me something like this from when I was a little girl. We were in the woods, and he had spotted a copperhead snake sleeping near the stump of a tree. He warned me that if I were ever bitten by a poisonous animal, the venom could be extracted from the wound using someone's mouth or even mine if I was by myself. Until I could get to a healer in time, sucking the poison out could be the only way to save myself from serious illness or death.
"I-I don't think I can reach my leg with my mouth to do it," I tell Peeta. "So, you're going to have to…" I trail. Peeta nods understanding and quickly begins to roll up my pant leg. I wince when he pulls back the fabric to reveal two dark punctures holes in my thigh. I instruct him to tie a tourniquet above the wounds and create an insertion with his knife between the punctures so to suck out as much poison as possible. His cool lips meet my skin when I abruptly stop him.
"Wait, you have to spit it out, okay? Spit it all out otherwise it will get into your system. You can stop when it starts bleeding red. It might taste gross, by the way," I add. Peeta shakes his head.
"Like I care, anything to keep you alive. Hold still, it will probably hurt," he replies with a sorry look. He grabs my knee with one hand and my hip with the other and begins to suck the venom out. He tries to be gentle, but every time his tongue glides across my shredded flesh I want to scream. His head comes up every once and a while to spit the blue venom over his shoulder.
I realize I'm going to vomit when his teeth clamp down on my leg to try and draw out what is deeper. The pain is excruciating. A trickle of dark blue blood escapes my lips and travels down my chin. Oh no. Much of the poison has already invaded my system. The only question is, will Peeta get out enough to keep me alive, or am I already too far gone? I try to wipe the liquid off of my face, but I feel too weak to reach my hand up. Peeta's mouth is still on my thigh, trying to work out the final poison. At last, he pulls away and a crimson color begins flowing.
"Get water to wash the rest out of your mouth," I inform him, my voice sounding distant. I experience tunnel vision setting in as I grow hot and nauseous. I must look terrible because when Peeta's gaze finds mine he rushes to take my face in his hands.
"Hey, stay in there. Don't close your eyes. I got it out. I'm going to bandage you up now," he assures me, his voice hurried with panic. I try to respond, but I can't. More liquid exudes from my mouth, threatening to choke me. I hear the muffled sound of Peeta yelling something now, but I can't seem to hold on. If I'm dying, I guess it's not so bad. I'm in the woods with Peeta. Laying in a meadow-like place. Away from the Capitol. I just hope Peeta won't be in too much pain when I leave him.
A/N: I'm back! Please let me know what you think with this chapter! It was very fun to write. ;) Also, please have mercy, I know this was a cliffhanger.