Myles had to help me back to the camp fire to find Iris and Layton. The adrenaline rushing through me from the attack had disappeared, leaving me with nothing but the pain. It roared through my shoulder, twinging every muscle on the way down my spine. So I'd barely made it a few yards when I stumbled into a tree trunk, wincing and clutching my shoulder with my eyes scrunched up tight against the pain.

"Lockart," Myles said, his voice low in warning as he hovered beside me.

"I'm fine," I managed to reply through my teeth. "Just . . . sore."

"I thought you said you were sorting it?"

"And I did," I snapped shortly, glancing up long enough to scowl at him. "The bleeding's stopped, hasn't it?"

He glowered, taking my uninjured arm and pulling me away from the tree as gently as he could manage, which was still enough to make me groan in pain. "You've burnt it," he growled irritably. "I thought that canister had something in it to help."

My teeth ground together. "It did. I . . . panicked and forgot about it."

"Lockart," he growled again.

"Can we just keep moving?" I snapped back.

"That depends," he scowled. "I need you to be ready to fight, and obviously-"

"Hey, I've just done that," I snarled quietly. "And if you haven't noticed, we're in serious trouble here Myles. You realise we're being targeted, right? Not Layton or Iris. Us."

His jaw locked and for a moment, he was silent in deep thought. Carefully, he released my arm and took a step back, frowning at me. "I know," he mumbled darkly. "I just don't know why."

I scoffed sourly, straightening out and shifting my shoulder back cautiously. "We're in the Hunger Games. Do they need a reason?"

"But why us in particular?" he continued.

My lips twisted, and I hurriedly replayed my encounter with the other girl. "Rory," I muttered, and Myles hesitated. "He's the District 1 boy, isn't he?"

"Jenia," he growled back. "He's looking for revenge for Jenia."

"The District 1 girl?" I blinked, my stomach suddenly squirming. "I guess it makes sense. But why me too?"

"You scored a twelve," he pointed out blandly, and I pulled a face.

"Oh, yeah," I answered sheepishly. "So I did." For a moment, he stared at me, one eyebrow raised, like he was debating whether or not to ask his next question. But he shook himself and straightened out, clearing his throat.

"We need a plan," he said. "If they are targeting us, then they'll be easier to find. But we need to move quickly and-" He shot me a pointed look. "Without distraction."

I immediately knew what he meant. "You want to leave Iris and Layton alone?" I scoffed quietly. "Myles, that's insane."

"No, what's insane is thinking we can get the upper hand on the Careers with Layton Forge in toe," he frowned at me. "Iris is perfectly capable of taking care of them both, if you are set on him surviving."

My eyes narrowed. "Tread carefully," I warned quietly.

He ignored me. "Come on. We had better get back. You need to talk Iris into leaving with Layton. She'll take it better from you."

"Wait, what?" I choked, but he was already walking away from me. "Myles! Myles !" He still didn't turn. "Damn you, Myles," I snarled, pushing myself to my feet. "Remind me why the hell I'm putting up with you - again - of all the people in District 4?"

I followed him back to the camp fire, slowly and being careful not to jolt my shoulder. The pain was easing gradually, but it still hurt if the wind was too strong, or I twisted in the wrong way. By the time we got back, the girl's body was gone and Layton and Iris were back, the first perched against a tree and the second pacing by the fire.

The second she saw us, she bolted forward, scowling furiously. "Where have you two been?" she snapped. "I was worried sick! What happened to the two tributes?"

"Dead," Myles said shortly, and her expression wavered. "We need to get moving." He shot me a pointed look, moving away to collect his bag.

"What was that for?" Iris mumbled angrily. "What's going on, Blake?"

My lips twisted anxiously. "We have . . . a slight problem," I admitted with a wince.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, her expression falling.

"I mean . . ." I sighed heavily, running my uninjured hand through my hair. A sudden idea struck me, and I knew that it was the only way to get her to go along with it. "The Careers are targeting two of us. And when I say two of us, I mean . . . Myles and . . . Layton." Iris blinked, her jaw hanging, and I almost winced. "Look, I need you to look after Layton, keep him out of trouble, while Myles and I track the Careers."

She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't know, Blake. Is it really such a good idea to split up?"

Probably not, I sighed to myself. "Yes," I lied. "You know what Layton's like. I need to know that he's out of the way, and out of danger. I can't focus otherwise."

"I don't like this," she mumbled, but glancing sideways at Layton, her shoulders sagged. "Okay. Just for you." Before I could move, she wrapped her arms around my waist. "Be careful, Blake."

I gulped hard, squeezing her shoulders. "You too, kiddo. Let's go break the news to Layton." She grimaced, stepping back and letting me lead the way to the tree Layton was leant against.

"Blake," he breathed in relief, pushing himself clumsily to his feet. "You're okay!"

I managed a small smirk, shrugging my good shoulder. "I've been better," I admitted. "Listen, we have a plan, and I need you to do exactly as Iris says, okay? We're going to split up, you with Iris and me with Myles."

"What?" he gawped, eyes wide and panicked. "But . . . why? What's going on?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but an irritated groan from Myles interrupted me. "We are going to get the Careers," he snapped impatiently. "You are going to be a good little boy and hide."

"Hey!" I scowled at him as Layton flushed in embarrassment.

"That's what this is, Hart," Myles glowered. "If you don't like it, let him come with us."

My fists clenched, but Layton cleared his throat. "It's fine, Blake," he mumbled, snatching up his bag. "I understand. Let's just go." Gnawing the inside of my lip, I found I wanted to say something, but couldn't.

The four of us prepared to leave in silence, and I slung my backpack over my uninjured shoulder, making sure my knife and crossbow bolts were still at my belt. I did a quick count of how many I still had. Might just be enough to get me through, provided Myles and I dealt with the Careers quickly and effectively enough. Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I took a deep breath and bid Iris and Layton a last goodbye. I was stunned to see Myles pull Iris to one side, clasping her shoulder and talking to her severely. He looked concerned, something I'd never seen on his face before. I found myself wondering if I'd misjudged him all this time.

"Good luck, guys," Iris smiled sadly as she took a step back. "See you soon." Her sparkling eyes found mine, and I nodded with a heavy heart.

"Sure, kid," I grimaced. "Soon." I moved a few steps backward, following Myles toward the treeline. I waited until Iris and Layton were completely out of sight, then turned and took a deep, calming breath. "Here goes nothing, huh?"

Myles glanced at me coolly. "Here goes nothing," he agreed quietly.

We kept moving for the rest of the afternoon, and I didn't dare complain about the pain shooting through my shoulder. Myles said nothing the entire journey, but every now and then he'd silently offer me some water and shot me a quick glance to make sure I hadn't fainted from the pain. What concerned me more, however, was the layout of the arena. We'd been moving through the spring forest for a few days now, but we must have been coming to the edge soon.

"Myles!" I called forward as the sun began to set, casting an orange glow overhead. He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. "We need to get a good view of where we are."

"How do you plan on doing that?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow cautiously. I twisted my lips, passing him my crossbow and backpack reluctantly.

"Don't move," I instructed, stepping closer to one of the trees and gritting my teeth, before reaching up for the first branch. Pain instantly rushed through my shoulder, but I ignored it and pulled myself up, reasonably pleased I'd managed it without yelling out.

"Lockart," Myles groaned impatiently. "You're going to make your shoulder bleed again."

I moved onto the next few branches, smiling when the pain didn't bother me as much the second time. "I'm also going to find out where we are," I grinned at him. "Give me a minute." He mumbled something I couldn't catch, but I was ignoring him anyway, focusing on breathing deeply as I pulled myself up the tree. I could still feel the pain in my shoulder, but it was becoming a dull distraction. If I focussed hard enough on my breathing, it was manageable.

I paused when I reached the thinner branches, grimacing slightly. Back in 11, I used to climb trees all the time while working the fields, for exactly the same purpose. But the small kids had always been sent to the top because they were lighter and less likely to break the branches. Still, I ground my teeth together and kept my feet as close to the tree trunk at possible, wincing as I pulled myself up.

At the top of the tree, I wrapped my arms around the trunk and took a deep breath, scanning our surroundings. I had been right, we were almost at the edge of spring. Unfortunately, we were heading toward winter, and a small gasp slipped my lips at the sight of the snow-capped mountain towering over us. "How is that possible?" I breathed, eyeing the border. The winter section looked, well, cold. But I was barely a hundred yards away and I felt just about warm enough. Still, that was in between us and the autumn woods. For a moment, I simply observed, taking in as much of the view as I could before cautiously making my way back down.

"Finished?" Myles growled as I dropped somewhat clumsily to the ground in front of him.

I winced, pulling back my jacket to reveal a red, inflamed burn over my shoulder. "Yeap, I think that'll do," I agreed with twisted lips.

He shook his head at me. "What did you see?"

Taking a deep breath, I relayed what I had learnt as quickly and as accurately as possible. He looked troubled to realise we were this close to the winter section, but agreed with me that the majority of tributes, if not all of them, were in this section. "If it were me, I'd be on the other side of this section," he said.

I hesitated, lifting an eyebrow. "Explain," I offered softly.

"Closer to the fresh water supply in the summer section," he shrugged.

"Um, maybe," I shrugged. "If they have the right supplies from the Cornucopia, they could melt the snow and treat it so that it's safe to drink, if they've even thought about it."

Myles frowned in thought, spinning his sword in his hands. "The thing is, wherever they are, we can't just keep wandering around hoping to find them. We need some sort of track to follow."

"Behind the cave we spent the first night in," I suddenly remembered, and his expression turned to stone.

"What are you talking about?" he growled.

I gave a sheepish smile. "I may have forgotten to mention it earlier," I grimaced, and his jaw locked. "I'm sorry! I had bigger things on my mind at the time!" I indicated toward my shoulder, but his eyes only narrowed further. "Okay, okay! While I was on watch at the cave, a guy called Davi stumbled out of the forest. He was covered in blood, some of it his, some of it someone else's. He kept mumbling, 'Still have her' over and over again."

"Who?" he frowned.

"No idea," I admitted. "Maybe the girl from his District? Either way, it has to be the same thing, right? I mean, something's going on, Myles, and it isn't good. Not even for this place!"

"You're right," he agreed quietly, tightening his hand around his sword. "We need to get to the bottom of this. Looks like we're heading back to the cave. Shouldn't be too far from here anyway, maybe a day's walk in that direction." He pointed the way, and I nodded.

"Maybe we should wait until morning," I grimaced, glancing upward. "It'll be dark soon."

"We have an hour or so left," Myles answered, kneeling down and rubbing his fingers in the dirt. "There should be fresh water around here somewhere, if you still remember how to fish?" He glanced up at me with a smug look, and I almost snapped.

"Of course I do," I replied as calmly as possible.

"Good," he scoffed. "Come on then."

We found a small stream not too far away, and managed to catch a few fish while the fire was warming up. We ate quickly and in silence, each absorbed in our own thoughts. For a while, I wandered what he was thinking about. I might have been determined in my mission to get Iris or Layton out alive, but what was his plan? Was he fighting to get home for someone? His family? A girlfriend, maybe? The curiosity burned, but I was afraid I wouldn't like the answer. So I kept quiet and ate without a word.

As usual, Myles took the first watch. I curled up under my sleeping bag by the foot of a tree, listening to the water flow past me slowly. Once again, I found myself twirling Finnick's ring around it's chain nervously as I watched the sky grow darker and darker, waiting for the announcement of today's deaths. Eventually, the Capitol music's started and my breath caught. Davi's face flickered across the sky, the boy from District 9, and I glanced sideways at Myles, who looked just as grim as I felt. There goes any chance of getting the truth from him, I thought sourly.

Davi's picture was immediately followed by the girl from the camp fire, from 6, and the boy Myles had killed from 7. Myles's expression had darkened even further, and my stomach twisted. My kill count was up to three, and though I wasn't sure of it, I thought that might be the highest number of all of us.

"The Careers aren't killing many," I muttered out loud, and Myles grunted in agreement. A thought occurred to me, and I shifted uncomfortably. "You don't think . . . you don't think they're taking them alive, do you?"

Even Myles shuddered at the thought. "Why would they do that?" he frowned. "It's doesn't make sense." I wanted to argue, but the truth was, I couldn't make sense of it either. Normally by now, at least half the tributes were dead. As far as I could make out, the dead only numbered ten so far. I doubted it had anything to do with the Careers being softer this year, but there had to be an explanation. I was just starting to get scared of what that might be.

And I had every right to be.