The night before the Games, I lie in bed and I think back at that moment when Cato volunteered at the reaping and I could hardly believe my luck…
Well, things have developed a bit differently from what I expected. In a way, Cato and I are the perfect team – we quickly noticed at the Training Centre that we complement one another like none of the other District partners – but there's one thing my mentor told me that I just can't get out of my head.
"Don't forget you'll need to kill him at the end, darling."
I don't know why I haven't thought about it earlier. Maybe it was just too simple, too natural for a Career like me to understand its full extent. I mean, it has always been clear that I need to kill everyone if I want to win. Unfortunately, it never came to my mind that everyone includes Cato. We've discussed our strategy like two thousand times, but we never spent a thought on what would come if Cato and I had killed all of the other tributes. Until the night my mentor told me I had to kill Cato as well…
I know a good Career would know immediately what to do. I shouldn't even question this last act that separates me from my victory. But somehow, it feels wrong.
I like Cato, and I've always had the impression he likes me back. I'm sure he wouldn't think twice about killing me, though. I'm sure he knows that he has to kill me at the end and he won't have any doubts about it.
There's a sudden pain in my chest when I imagine Cato hunting me down with a spear or something, but I can tell it's not fear. I can't even remember the last time I felt pure fear… Maybe I don't know the feeling at all.
However, what I feel now is something different. Something I've felt before. The pain was less intense then, but it was the same.
Images appear in the darkness around me. Cato at the Opening Ceremonies, throwing a gamey look at District One's female tribute, Glimmer. Cato at the Training Centre, showing Glimmer his knife throwing abilities (which aren't half as good as mine, for what it's worth). Cato and Glimmer talking before the interviews; his hand wandering down her back while she's laughing over some stupid joke of his'.
I see Cato's fingers slide ever deeper, Glimmer's laugh growing ever louder until it sounds almost real – as if I was reliving the whole situation. I cover my ears with my hands and squeeze my eyes shut, but I can still hear her voice, still see his hand, and it makes me terribly aggressive. I want to punch that girl in her pretty face. I want to punch her so hard she'll never be able to laugh again.
With Cato, it's different. I don't feel the urge to punch him. I'm just, somehow, deeply disappointed. Yes, that describes the feeling pretty good. He could as well try to kill me; the feeling would be exactly the same.
I don't know what all of that means. I don't understand a thing. I know my strategy by heart, every step of it, and I'm ready to do whatever it takes. I don't care about the screams of those innocent children, I don't care about the looks on their faces that say: Don't kill me, please don't kill me!
They're going to die, every single one of them. I shouldn't care about Cato, either. I should kill him like he was one of them. Maybe, if I imagined him as tribute from Twelve, one of those stupid coal miners, it would all be easier…
I sigh. First step to victory is a good night's sleep. I'll have to start with that if I want to win. I just have to shut up this voice in my head that keeps telling me to think – about me, about Cato, about those Games and the prize I have to pay for winning them.
So, you kill Cato and you get a life full of fame and fortune, what do you think? You'll live like the people in the Capitol. You'll be happy. This is what you've always dreamed of, Clove. Just kill him.
Just kill him; I wish it could be that easy!
He'd kill you in the blink of an eye. Maybe he wouldn't if you were Glimmer… but you aren't.
I wonder if that's true. I know Cato would kill me, but what about Glimmer? Does he like her enough to spare her life?
Maybe. He likes her more than he likes me, that's for sure.
And suddenly, with that thought filling my head, I can't deny it any longer: Whatever happens, I can't forget that I've spent a lifetime training for this. I can't let Cato stand in my way, especially not when I'm not a quarter as important for him as he is for me. He wouldn't spare me, and I won't spare him.
I need to kill Cato.