There she is, only a stone's throw away. Katniss Everdeen, my ally who I've spent days trying to find and waiting to wake up. She's finally up…and it looks like she wants to kill me.
"Look, Katniss I-
"I said don't fucking move!" she hisses, pulling the bowstring further back for emphasis. Her face, once friendly, is contorted into a look of anger and distrust, like how she used to look at Cato. Except now that look is directed at me.
"Okay," I say, taking a step back and making sure to keep my voice even, "I'm not moving. I'm just standing here."
"Drop the spear," she says sternly, her fierce eyes not leaving my face for a second.
I calmly place my trusty spear on the ground, keeping my movements slow in an attempt not to set Katniss off. I don't know if it's the tracker jacker venom or my mere existence, but she looks volatile, like she could explode at any moment.
"Back up," she says, inching towards me. I obey until I'm about ten feet from my spear, missing its reassuring presence already.
"Turn around," she says. Reluctantly, I do so. I look out at the forest and wonder where Rue is. I don't think Katniss would harm her, but hopefully she's staying out of sight anyway.
"May I turn back around?" I ask after a few moments.
"Sure," she answers tersely. I turn and see her looking determined, still aiming her arrow at me and my spearing now leaning against a tree behind her.
"Good to see you awake, Katniss," I say, smiling the best I can while my life is being threatened.
"Sure it is," she spits, her eyes narrowing at me.
"I'm serious. I've been trying like hell to find you the past few days," I say, recalling my day long trek through the heat in search of her.
"Yeah, I noticed that. You and all your friends have been trying to find me," she says, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
"That wasn't the plan…or at least not what I planned," I say, trying to find a way to explain all that's happened.
"Yeah? Well I've had about enough of plans, especially yours!" she snaps.
My plans? It wasn't exactly my fault I couldn't find her. She was hiding and it's a big fuckin' arena.
"You got something you want to say to me?" I ask, my anger rising to the surface.
"Other than you're a lying snake, not really. I should've known better. I should've known you were just trying to mess with my head. Tell me, was anything you said the truth or was it all just bullshit? Is your family actually poor? Is your dad actually missing his hand? Do you even have a crippled little brother or was that just another piece of your sob story?" she asks viciously, accusation after accusation stabbing into my most vulnerable points.
My eyes widen at the comment about Striker and I know my anger is super-charged now, like it suddenly went to the Academy and came out a more ferocious version of its former self, just begging to be unleashed on the unprepared.
"Listen and you listen well, don't you ever accuse me of making something like that up again! Everything I told you, I have lived with, my family has lived with and everything I have put myself through is to cope with that!" I fire back, taking an angry step towards her. Her eyes flash again and her fingers twitch. I can see the gears turning in her head and I know she's considering letting that arrow fly.
"You're lying," she says, her voice emotionless, like the countdown before the Games.
"So you think I made all that up just to get to you? You seem to be forgetting that I talked to you long before you scored an eleven in training. I thought you'd be a good ally before I ever knew you could handle a bow. Guess what, Katniss? Quiet tributes who spend all their time at the survival stations aren't worth the trouble to trick. Most people just assume they won't be too much of a threat in the arena and leave them be!" I retort.
"So why'd you bother talking to me if didn't think I could fight?" she asks tersely, although a little less venomously than before.
"Because I admired you!" I shout, "I saw what you did for your sister and I thought I'd found someone like me! I thought I'd found someone I could rely on! I wouldn't have risked my life to save your fucking boyfriend otherwise!"
Her anger completely fades and Katniss now just looks confused.
"What?" she asks.
"Yeah, that's right. After the tracker jackers, when Peeta got busted helping you escape, Cato was about to finish him off and I saved his life…and got this as a reward," I say, lifting my shirt up to show my bandaged sword wound.
Katniss softens a bit at the sight of my wound and purses her lips. I know that look. She's sizing me up, feeling the pull between her skepticism and my sincerity and trying to pick a side.
"We're not enemies, Katniss. We never have been," I say, my eyes flickering to the silver arrow still aimed at my forehead, "It doesn't have to be like this."
"How do I know I can trust you?" she asks, her internal struggle obvious.
"I'll vouch for him," says a familiar voice above us.
We both look up to see Rue dangling from the low branch of an enormous pine tree next to us. For once, Rue doesn't look like kind, wise girl she is. She looks nervous, eying Katniss' bow which is still pointing at me.
"Katniss, put it down," Rue says calmly, as if she was trying to soothe a child.
"What the hell are you doing?! Stay away! He'll probably kill you!" Katniss says harshly, her concern for the little girl obvious to anyone with functioning eyes and ears.
"No, he won't. He's my ally," Rue says, directing a smile at me that I return.
"What?!" Katniss asks incredulously.
Rue's smile gets wider. "And I was hoping I could convince you to join us."
After a lot of arguing and reassurances from Rue, Katniss finally lowered her arrow and accepted my presence…or at least stopped responding to it with threats of violence. It's a little depressing, having her keep her distance and watch me like some dangerous animal, especially after the conversations we had before the game. I miss those days. I miss their simplicity compared to now, where no one can be absolutely sure of trust until it's proven.
I feel a bit strange, like I'm some alien among a different species. These two, Katniss and Rue, are the outer-districts, hardy survivors. What am I? A career tribute from a district that has suckled the teat of the Capital for the past seventy-four years. Rue's a lot more forgiving than Katniss. She has no axe to grind and doesn't blame me for where I was born. Somehow, I think Katniss does, especially with the distrust brewing between us, although it's entirely one-sided. I don't doubt Katniss but she definitely doubts me. I try to tell myself that doesn't hurt? Why should it? It's logical. I'm a career, she's from District Twelve. Even after our conversations, the first time she saw me since the countdown was at the trunk of the tree we had her trapped in. I can understand how that'd make anyone wary. Unfortunately, logic has no impact on feeling. It does hurt…even though I know it's absurd.
Katniss goes hunting not long after Rue talks her down, taking the small girl with her. Ever since she returned my spear (which took even more convincing from Rue) she hasn't left me alone with the District Eleven tribute, probably assuming I'd decapitate her at the first opportunity. I try to focus on skinning my rabbit and gathering wood for the fire, hoping to keep my mind off the tension between me and Katniss. Dusk will be our only opportunity to cook without risking discovery and we'll have to be ready.
They return not long before dusk and I'm impressed by their haul. Katniss has two rabbits and some plump bird I've never seen before, all of which were killed much more cleanly than my rabbit. Rue gathered an impressive array of edible plants, including wild onions. I get to work skinning the rabbits while Katniss plucks the bird, chatting with Rue, who's arranging the wood for the fire, and casting suspicious glances at me. I try to keep my anger under control, reminding myself that this is the Hunger Games and suspicion is natural, especially on her part. I suppose I'm angrier about being called a liar than that. Her insinuation about Striker being a ploy was what really set me off. It's a good thing I maintained some control or I might've gotten an arrow through my forehead.
Dusk falls and we light the fire, skewering and roasting the bird and the rabbits. The delicious smell of meat fills the air and I'm suddenly aware of how hungry I am. Juices simmer and grease drips down onto the coals, disappearing with a hiss. We eat some of the plants while we wait and I try to practice some self-control. Food isn't going to last forever in the games, especially with three people. When the meat's finally done, we tear into it. A whole rabbit goes quickly, followed by the bird, although I notice Katniss is doing the same thing I'm doing: sending a lot of the food Rue's way.
"So what're we going to do about the careers?" I ask, gnawing on one of the rabbit bones.
Both Rue and Katniss look up from their hunks of rabbit, almost like they expect me to say something more.
"I was leaning towards killing them," Katniss says flatly, the look in her eyes saying that if I slip up in any way she won't hesitate to include me with "them".
"We can't just storm the Cornucopia and slit their throats. There's still three able-bodied careers there," I say.
"More like two," Rue says around a mouthful of rabbit.
"What?" Katniss asks.
"Cato's leg was kinda messed up last time I saw him," Rue says simply, "Marvel said a mutt got ahold of him."
"When'd you see him anyway?" I ask.
"Not long after the tracker jackers. I saw him bleeding and limping back towards the cornucopia," Rue says.
I wonder if Cato's still hurt. That mutt bite looked nasty but one sponsor gift could have him back in action.
"Any sign of him since then?" I ask.
"No. I haven't seen any of the careers since then. I think they're all holed up in the cornucopia, trying to recover," Rue says.
Katniss swears under her breath. "Hurt or not, we'll never take them down in there. That place is a fortress."
"So we gotta draw them out," I say.
"But then what? You said it yourself. If they fight together, which they probably will since they're down to three, we won't be able to take them," Katniss says.
"We don't know if Cato's healthy or not. That mutt looked like it did some serious damage," I say, rubbing my chin in contemplation. The only way I'd face the boy from District Two is if I had something to tip the odds in my favor.
"One nice sponsor gift could take care of everything. Then, we'll be facing Clove, the boy from Four and a reinvigorated Cato," Katniss says.
"Maybe we don't have to fight them," Rue says thoughtfully.
Okay, now I'm confused. If we aren't going to fight them, then what the hell are we going to do?
"What?" Katniss and I ask simultaneously.
Rue smirks and examines the hunk of meat in her small hand. "How do you think they'd fare without food?" she asks.
Now that's an idea. Everyone knows the careers can't forage for shit. The only person who wouldn't be doomed would be Lewis and that's only because of his fishing skills. Cato and Clove would be finished without that giant pile of food. The boy from Three probably wouldn't make it either. My eyes widen.
The boy from Three.
Cooper.
The nervous kid who constructed a goddamn minefield around that food pyramid.
"I think you just might be onto something," Katniss says, grinning for the first time in days.
"No, that won't work," I say, shaking my head.
"Why not?" Katniss asks.
Before I can answer, a howl rips through the growing shadows. We all turn into statues and I hear more howls, creeping across the darkness towards us. My hand goes to my spear and I see Katniss seizing her bow with surprising speed. Rue whips her head around, trying to spot the source. The sun is mostly down and only faint remnants of light remain. Katniss stops out our tiny fire and notches an arrow. Rue's hand goes limp and drops her piece of rabbit onto the forest floor.
"What was that?" Rue asks, her voice suddenly small and very afraid. For once she actually sounds like a twelve-year-old.
"Mutts," Katniss answers, her voice hard and focused.
More howls come, this time closer. My training comes back to me and I crouch into a combat stance, my spear pointing outwards toward the darkness. The light is fading with every second. Mutts. Darkness. The gamemakers are really showing us their love tonight.
I hear elastic being pulled back behind me and I notice Rue aiming her little slingshot in the direction of the howls.
"Rue, get up a tree right now!" I snap, imagining the poor girl being torn apart by a ferocious pack of Capital mutts.
"I can't leave you guys down here!" she fires back.
"We'll be up right behind you. Go!" Katniss snaps, pointing her loaded bow at our unseen enemies.
Rue hesitates for a moment, but another chorus of howls sends her scampering up the nearest pine like a squirrel. They're close now. The mutts. I can't see them but I can hear them, all around us, like a circle. I hear claws scraping over the dead leaves and dirt, heavy feral frothing and snarling in the cool air. The sounds carry, bouncing off the bark of the trees and tightening around us like a noose. I find myself pivoting with each new, terrible sound, desperately trying to see the danger. I can feel the terror rising in my chest, spreading into my limbs and making them shake. I try to quell it, but I'm just not used to this feeling. I'm not used to being prey.
Katniss swings her grey eyes back, making sure Rue's safe. At the sight of the small girl climbing into the heights of the tree, Katniss slings her bow over her shoulder and hurries to the trunk. Her hands grab the lowest branch and she begins to haul herself up, but stops when the sees me not following.
"What the fuck are you doing? C'mon!" she calls.
"You know those branches won't hold me!" I shout back, my eyes not leaving the nothing in front of me.
A growl cuts though the darkness and, for the first time, I see something. Three pairs of insidious eyes, glowing like embers in the darkness. They're spread out in front of me, leaving me nowhere to go but backwards.
"Are you insane!? You're gonna get killed!" Katniss screams back, sounding furious.
"Just get up there! I'll be alright!" I shout back as the first paw creeps out of the darkness, its razor sharp claws glistening in the slight moonlight.
The mutt steps right out of my nightmares and into the light. It looks like a wolf…a giant wolf, complete with a set of razor-sharp, ivory-white jaws. Its claws are the same. Its coat is dark as midnight, stretched over the thick, coiled muscles of its shoulders, down its sleek back and all the way to its twitching tail. What stands out the most is those eyes, the tiny orbs burning with hatred and staring right at me.
I swallow and hold the point of my spear out. For a moment, the mutt does nothing but stare, like I'm some complicated equation for it to decipher. How intelligent is it? From what I know, wolves aren't stupid, but it's not like they can understand human speech or come up with strategy. Then again, this isn't a wolf. This a mutt that the Capital could've done anything to, like creating it to specifically hate me.
The sick thing rises, ready to show me what it's got. It takes flight, leaping into the air toward me, jaws snapping and eyes still burning. I'm ready, though. I catch it on the point of my spear and the wind rushes out of the creature like a deflated balloon, even as its momentum carries it into me. Sprawled on the ground, I shove the writhing body off me and yank my spear out of the wine-red wound. The mutt doesn't have long, but it's his companions I'm worried about now. Like shadows moving in the darkness, I spot their outlines flanking me, moving to attack simultaneously. So I run.
I turn and sprint away from the campsite, using my long legs for all they're worth as I weave between the trees. For a moment, I worry the mutts are staying to trap Katniss and Rue. Then I hear a bone chilling howl, followed by the sounds panting and rough paws tearing across the forest floor in pursuit. My feet trip and stumble over errant roots and rocks, almost like the very forest is on the wolves' side, on the gamemakers' side, doing everything it can to deliver a gruesome death. My lungs burn and my legs ache and I hear the panting and snarling getting closer. I desperately put on another burst of speed and try to stay upright. Like with the fire, I know that if I fall down, I won't get up again.
As I run, a horrible realization dawns on me: I'm heading back towards the river, where I'll have no escape. I'll either have to face the mutts in the water or the mutts on the land. Did the wolves herd me this way on purpose? Could the gamemakers make them that smart or was it just a happy accident? Once I reach the river, they'll have their show and probably my life with it.
I burst from the trees and storm down the rocky bank, the dark waters of the river reflecting the full moon overhead. I freeze on the bank, wheezing and trying to decide. Do I risk it and swim? I can spot a few pairs of glowing red eyes cruising calmly out there, just waiting for me to jump into their domain. But I know what's waiting for me on land, too. I hear them closing in and, instead of jumping in, I turn to face them. I'm not hallucinating this time and I'd rather die fighting than swimming.
The wolves slow down and creep down the slope of the bank. Their feral snarls look like grins, almost like they're reveling in their success. I raise my spear and meet their gazes, which can only be described as bloodthirsty. One heads left and the other heads right, just like back at the campsite. I hope Striker isn't watching. The same goes for my parents.
Once again, there's a pause. Both mutts stare at me, looking for their opening. I swivel back and forth, hoping to catch the one that lunges on my spear again. The one on the left growls louder and lowers itself as its legs tense, ready to launch itself forward. I swing my spear in its direction and bend my knees, bracing for the impact. Then I feel the other mutt leaping onto my back.
Its razor sharp claws rip down my back as it drives me into the dirt. White hot bolts of pain shoot down my spine as the other mutt lets out a victorious howl, which almost sounds like laughter, wicked smug laughter. The kind of laugh I've heard from President Snow on television. If I scream, I don't hear it. I search desperately for my spear, trying to see where I lost it as the mutt sinks its jaws into my left shoulder. I feel my blood spurt out as the mutt begins to shake me, trying to tear the hunk of flesh from my body.
How did I end up here? Why did I end up here? I could've just stayed out of this. I could've just not volunteered. Life back home wouldn't have been perfect, but it would've been better than being ripped apart by wolves on live television. They must be laughing at me now, probably saying this is what I deserve for betraying the careers, a cautionary tale for everyone in the Academy about not carrying the water.
Wait a minute. That's not what I want to be. I'm here to win, not to die at the hands of a mutt less than a week into the games. I trained for this. I'm better than this. I'm numb to the pain as I remember the knife in my boot, my right boot. My eyes spot a thick rock, about the size of a grapefruit about a foot away. My right hand closes around it and I know I'm not going down without a fight.
I swing the rock, catching the mutt on the snout. I hear bones crack on contact as blood and few teeth fly loose. I feel the mutt's weight come off my body and I go for my knife. The mutt's dazed, squatting with its front paws still on my torso but hesitating to go for the kill. I don't. One strong swing slashes its throat completely open. The mutt crumbles like a house of cards as its blood mingles with mine in the dirt. I turn just in time to cover my throat as the other mutt launches into me and knocks me over again. It sinks its teeth into my forearm, desperately trying to get to my jugular. I drive my knife into its side and twist it, drawing a long howl from the mutt. It's not enough though and the mutt thrashes, its hind claws slashing into my thighs. The pain is nowhere specific. It's everywhere and I'm suddenly aware of how tired I am. It could be blood loss, but I'm not sure. I shake it off, ignoring the teeth in my left arm, and drive the knife in repeatedly.
This mutt is different. The stab wounds aren't slowing it down and those eyes look more furious than ever. It tears into me again and I feel the darkness closing in. It must be blood loss and I couldn't be more disappointed. I almost had it. I almost got out of another one…but not this time. My bloodied, shredded arm falls limply to my side as the mutt prepares to rip my throat out and end this. I don't shut my eyes. If I'm going to die, I'll at least show some courage.
The mutt is just opening its jaws when a silver arrow flies into one of its furious eyes. It sways for a second, like a tree that had its trunk chopped, before collapsing. The darkness is getting closer and closer and the last thing I see before it claims me is Katniss rushing down the bank toward me.
A/N: Wolves. Why does it have to be wolves? They would've been a solid finale...but I like them better right here. Now, our hero is down and victory, or even survival, are far from certain. And what about Katniss? Can she work with Marvel after everything or is the tension too great? As always, all reviews, follows and favorites are greatly appreciated.