My head clouds as panic sweeps through me. My feet must be traveling faster than my brain can keep up with. I feel the cool surface of the arrow as I perch it against my bow, ready to release it at the smallest movement.
"Katniss..." I glance at Gale for only a moment before returning my attention to the Peacekeepers. The smaller one's clothes hang loosely against her frame. She looks young, maybe my age. Her hair sticks to her skin and she looks pale and unhealthy. She leans against the other, arm draped over her shoulder. The older woman supports her weight as she clings to the girl. Her breathing is labored and small beads of sweat cleans streaks of dirt on her face. I see her drop the Peackeeper gun and raise her free hand in surrender. I notice the desperation in her eyes when they dart back and forth between me and the area in the forest to the left.
I follow her eyes and spot another stumbling body approaching close behind the girls. There's a moist darkness of blood soaking the back of his hair as if he's been violently pushed down. When I look at Gale, it's clear he notices as well. That's when I raise my bow higher and the girls squeeze their eyes shut. I release my arrow and their eyes pop back open when the body crashes to the ground.
"We're not Peacekeers."
"Then who are you?" Gale snarls.
"We're from District eight."
The low moans fill my ears. There's several sets of wandering stomps surrounding us. They must be attracted to sounds like animals. Instead of going away when they hear us, they come towards us. We're too exposed. Gale's voice begins again but I pay no attention to his words.
"We can't do this here," I hiss at them. I take in my surroundings and know we're not far. "Follow me," I say. "And hurry."
Gale takes the younger girl and wraps his arm around her, keeping close behind me. The other woman grabs the gun before trailing along after us. The fast pace I set has me breathing heavily for air. I don't want to slow down so I try to focus on my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth...in through the nose, out through the mouth. I know we're close, so I steal a glance behind me and Gale is lagging behind with the extra weight. My surrounding seem clear for now so I slow to a steady jog. They catch up as the small wooden cabin emerges between the trees and I lead us in before quickly closing the door behind me. Gale sits the girl down against the wall.
"Who are you?" I question the woman when I catch my breath.
"I'm Twill and she's Bonnie," she says, indicating the young girl the floor.
"Why are you out here?"
The young girl named Bonnie opens her eyes and flashes me a small piece of bread with a mockingjay imprinted on it. I don't know if that's supposed to mean anything or not, so I just stay quiet. "There's been an uprising in eight," she says. She extends her legs in front of her and hitches her breath in pain as she repositions herself. I notice dried blood by the wrist of her long sleeve. It looks like she had ripped a hole in the sleeve small enough to fit her thumb through. It's a smart idea if she has an injury, the sleeve wouldn't fall down and expose it. There's a high chance it's infected anyway if they didn't clean it up, but it probably helped.
"We overpowered the Peacekeepers." She tells us of how they had been planning since before the Games had ended. Twill had been a teacher at the school and worked in the factory at night and Bonnie had been her pupil. They communicated in the loud noises of the factories. With their large population they were able to overcome the Peacekeepers.
Twill then begins telling of how she and her husband had planned to escape. She would gather enough fabrics for two Peacekeeper uniforms over time. She was careful to only sneak enough to go unnoticed-a shirt here, a pair of pants there. Over time, she had enough for the both of them. Then more Peacekeepers arrived from the Capitol hovercrafts. District 8 went into lock down. The citizens stayed huddled in their homes and the factories closed down. Soon enough they were to proceed with working in the factories.
"That day," Twill whispers, "Bonnie and I got caught up at the school. We were making our way to the factory when we saw another hovercraft land right before the factory. The Peacekeepers set off a small bomb to blow off the entire wall of the building. It probably killed half of them in there.
"The hovercraft doors opened and dozens of bodies were dropped to the ground. The Peacekeepers boarded the hovercraft and it left. We thought they were dead. But then they all stumbled up and started moving toward the factory..." Twill trails off, her eyes glazing over.
Bonnie now speaks up in a small, shaky voice. "We heard the screams first. It was chaos. Whoever survived the bomb were running around, trying to escape. That's when we saw those, those..things-dead people- killing anyone alive. They were eating them."
She's shaking her head violently, inhaling deeply with every breath. Her shoulders are shaking and Twill quickly slides down the wall next to her, taking Bonnie's hands in her own.
"There was no stopping them!" Twill squeaks. "We saw people attacking the things with whatever they could get their hands on. I even saw one man stab the thing at least four times, but it kept coming...
"My husband, Bonnie's family...they were all in there when it happened. We decided to take our chances when the screaming stopped."
My stomach was churning. What little food I had consumed in the morning was threatening to come up now. Dead people killing, eating other people? That was too grotesque to fully comprehend. Is this the fate of any district to rebel against the Capitol? Who could be so cruel? Images of the arena flash in my mind. Innocent children being forced to kill one another...74 years worth of dead tributes...Snow must have no conscience if he did this.
"What did the dead people from the hovercraft look like?" I ask with all the gentleness I can manage.
Bonnie's eyes search the skies and she bites her lip. "Kids," she croaks. "My age and some were younger." Her skin is paling and dark circles are becoming more evident under her eyes.
The thought of Snow keeping the dead tributes from the games and somehow making them come back to life to kill. It is sick. But why not just kill them all quickly if that's his intention? What sort of games is he playing?
"Are you hungry?" I ask.
They both nod their heads. I look to Gale and point to the door. I swing it open and take in my surroundings before stepping out. I walk a few paces and begin collecting pine needles to brew for tea. It doesn't take long for Gale to speak.
"Why not just bomb them all dead? Why like that?"
I shake my head just as confused as he is. "I don't know. But there has to be a reason if Snow did it."
A horrible imagine of little Rue, her dead corpse roaming around, but somehow still alive, and programmed to kill. My fists clench together around the pine needles and my body begins to shake. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. All I can feel is hatred. Hatred for Snow, for the Games, for what they've done to me. I begin pacing back and forth.
"Katnip..." He places both hands on my shoulders to steady me. One slides up to my cheek and he tilts my head upwards so we make eye contact. There's a softness in his eyes that I've never seen before. The way his thumb brushes back and forth against my cheek is more intimate than we've ever been. He looks like he wants to say something but he stays silent.
He's leans in closer to me and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. I drop his gaze and slightly back away from his touch. His eyes drop to his feet and his face hardens.
"I'll build a fire inside if you skin for some meat," I say before walking to the door.
I start the fire and empty the water from my game bag into a small pot in the corner. Gale has situated himself in the corner, knife in hand and skinning one of my kills. Twill hugs Bonnie close, running her fingers through the girl's tangled hair.
When the tea is ready I pass some to both Bonnie and Twill. I hold one to Gale but he refuses to take it. I sigh and flop myself down in front of the girls. Bonnie seems to be in and out of consciousness.
"What happened to her?" I ask, careful not to wake her.
"We had been traveling through the forest for a few days. People of my district, we're not familiar with nature. There's barely grass where we live. So we got lost in the woods.
"I think we were near District 11 because we saw a big fence through the tree. I remember Rue told you about it...Well we didn't want to get caught so we started in the other direction and that's when we heard an explosion."
"From eleven?"
She nods her head and continues. "There was rocks and things flying everywhere. I think it must have been the Justice building. We ran as fast we could. Then there was another explosion, closer to us. The whole fence was blown apart. We fell back and she twisted her ankle."
"They were rebelling, too," I inform her. "They must have done the same to eleven. I've been seeing the dead people in the woods. I think they're from eleven."
Silence fills the air and for once it's not uncomfortable. The silence out here makes me feel safer. Gale is roasting the meat on the fire now. Within a few minutes he announces that it's done. I divide it between Twill and Bonnie and bring it to them. Twill asks if it's all for her and her eyes light up when I nod my head. The smell awakens Bonnie and I realize that some districts might have it just as bad as twelve does. I try to imagine a world where we don't all "starve in safety." A world without the Games, or poverty, or these dead people becoming a new threat.
Gale squats down to his feet and looks at Twill as she finishes. Bonnie has barely touched hers, but not without trying.
"Where are you headed?" he asks.
"District 13."
"There is no District 13," I pipe in. "It's demolished. We all see the footage."
"Yes, 74 years ago," she states. "Every year they show the same footage of the district. Just at the end, you see the same mockingjay wing at the corner." This seems like such little to go off of, however she seems convinced. Why would they go back every year when nothing changes anyway?
"The Capitol would never allow a District to be out of their control all these years."
"Maybe not. But maybe they had no choice," she disputes.
"If 13 does still exist then why haven't they helped us?"
"I don't know. But maybe we'll find out."
The possibility of a district 13, free from the Capitol rule and ignoring the rest of us while we starve disturbs me. Having them shy away passively while the kids of Panem are sentenced to death every year. The more I think about it, the less likely it seems a District 13 exists.
Gale moves towards Bonnie, who's sheet-white face looks to have fallen asleep. He presses the backside of his hand to her forehead and cheeks.
"She's burning up," he mutters.
Sadness etches on Twill's face. She looks solemn. "She's been sick since last night."
"Did something happen?" he asks her.
"Late last night, Bonnie woke me up because she thought she heard something. It was so dark we couldn't see anything. But then I heard the moaning. I help Bonnie up, but with her ankle, we're slow. Before we even realized it, one of those things bit her! Right on her wrist. I think we got the bleeding to stop though."
Gale and I share a look. "Do you think we could sneak her to my mom? She needs help," I whisper to him.
Before he can answer, Bonnie groans from what must be pain. She doesn't speak and sits completely still. Her body is so still, I'm not even sure she can be breathing. If she's trying to speak I can't make out any words. Then Bonnie's eyes peek open just a hint. Twill releases her in a hurry, as if an electric jolt has gone through her body.
"Her skin is cold."
She sounds frightened. Before anyone can react, Bonnie grips Twill tightly in her hands and pulls her closer. I just notice the same glazed and blank expression in her eyes. A low growl escapes her mouth. I shout to Twill, leaping to pull her away, but all sound is drowned by Twill's scream. I wasn't fast enough.
Gale grabs Bonnie by the arms from behind and holds her there. She thrashes around fiercely. Twill is hunched over crying and screaming. She presses both hands to the side of her neck. Blood spills out between the empty spaces of her fingers. I'm throwing off my father's hunting jacket and pulling off my shirt. Through my shaking fingers, I tear at the fabric of my top and it rips along the stitches. I fold up one half and pry Twill's hands away from her neck. I press it firmly against the wound and use the other half to tie it in place. Twill's hands find their way back to her neck against the fabric. I don't know what else to do to help her and decide to check on Gale.
I hear a loud thump and see Gale running to my bow. Bonnie's body looks broken on the floor in the corner. Through her loud moaning, she clumsily picks herself back up and begins shambling towards us. The pain from her twisted ankle might as well be nonexistent now.
Gale pulls the bow near his face, arrow in hand, and releases it. It pierces through the area near her heart. She stops momentarily but continues advancing towards him. He was frozen for a moment before shoving her back against the wall. He leans down to snatch another arrow from the floor. He quickly backs away from her and clumsily releases the arrow. Spots of blood flies to Gale's face. There's another bang as Bonnie's head slams into the wall and she slides to the floor, dead.
I feel like I've sprinted a mile though I've barely moved. I yank my hunting jacket back onto my frame. My heart feels like it might literally pound out of my chest. How did Bonnie become one of them? Is it because she was bitten? Or did she die? Maybe it was both?
Gale is in front of Twill now. The fabric on her neck is already soaked through with the red of her blood.
"Do you think you can make it back to 12 with us? I want to get the hell away from here," he demands.
I hear loud groans surrounding outside the cabin. Hands are banging and scratching against the door and walls.
"No," Twill cries. Her skin is paper white and I'm afraid she's losing too much blood already. Even if we run, the fence is a good distance away.
"Leave me here," she pleads. She coughs loudly and spits down to the floor, traces of blood fall with it. I grip her hand in my own. "Please." A horrible gargle escapes her throat and blood spills from the sides of her lips. Her hand slackens in mine and her head falls back. I see the light leave her eyes as she chokes on her own blood.