I can't believe it's already chapter 7… Enjoy!
I scream, and grab the backpack up and slam my foot into Mila's back to wake her. She wakes up instantly and starts shooting at the Careers. I start hacking away at the Careers with my spear, screeching, stabbing this way and that.
I feel a knife enter my side, and an arrow fly into my arm. I whirl around and bury my spear into the head of the 3 girl, Zelina. She screams as I yank it out.
The boy from 8, Isolde, runs towards me and starts throwing punches with his spiked gloves. I see Caelius stab straight through Mila's arm out of the corner of my eye. Laughing, he calls over his shoulder, "Come on, guys, they're going to die anyway. Let 'em suffer."
Something is wrong with me and my thoughts aren't processing like they should be. I see Caelius and his little gang running off, probably determined to find more tributes. I crawl over to Mila, who is wracking with small spasms on the ground.
Yanking a bandage out of our supply, I assess the damage on her. It's not good. Caelius stabbed her multiple times, and that Zelina girl's arrow has pierced her throat. With a horrible sinking feeling, I lift up her shirt, to take a look at her chest. My own stomach lurches just looking at it.
It's a bloody, mangled mess. Bits and pieces of god-knows-what are open on the inside, and the skin is basically torn away. She's not going to live through the first day.
"Cah," Mila chokes out. She sounds like she's trying to breathe through a bowl of jello. I think she's trying to say my name. "I'm here, Mila, I'm here," I move a bit closer to her and pick up her hand. "'M I going be 'kay?" She coughs up blood. "Uh, uh, yes, you'll be fine," I say desperately. She shakes her head a tiny little bit. "No… not…" Mila rasps.
My heart is burning with hatred for Caelius and those awful Careers. Once I can function again I will kill him. And maybe Septima too.
"S..s…story…?" She gasps out. Is she really asking for a story? I'm not going to refuse a dying wish, so I begin.
"Once when I was about 9, I was painting at school. This painting was lovely and my best work, so I was very proud of it, showing it off to my teacher. Then a girl in my class who got easily jealous… Basil, I think her name was, came up to my painting with a glob of paint in her hand. She smeared it on there and I was heartbroken. My best work, ruined. So you know what I did?" I question.
"Whu…" Mila rasps quietly. She's slipping away. "I put my foot through her painting. She wasn't happy." Mila laughs, a horrible hoarse sound that indicates she won't be here much longer.
Her eyes pop close slowly, and her gasps are shallow. "Win, Cassia." She wheezes with a final shudder. A cannon fires, and she's gone. I feel my throat start to close a little, and tears slide down my face as I look at her.
I grab her hand, rest my lips on it for a second, and stand up.
Grabbing my backpack with a heavy heart, I pick up her sheath of arrows and her bow and stick it in the pack. Picking up my spear, I take one last look at Mila, and walk off to find a new resting place.
My foot slams against a rock. Why, why is it so hard to find a place to make camp? I've been walking for hours, and I'm tired, oh, so tired. Fed up, I decide that one of the large trees with a circular opening in the top will work fine. Hauling my bag up, I spread out the sleeping bag, and set my spear down.
My stomach rumbles. Reaching into the bag, I pull out… a sandwich. Nice. Chewing, I look at my surroundings with a pang of guilt. Mila never got to have any of this food. She was probably hungry. Maybe we should have eaten before we tried to sleep.
I take a small sip of water, and try to think of what I should do. It's nightfall, so maybe I should sleep? My heart is racing, so that will be impossible. I settle for laying on the sleeping bag and staring up at the glowing stars in the sky.
After an hour or so, I fall asleep.
Something light and wet is caressing my face. "Stop washing my face, Mila," I mumble, then I remember; Mila is dead. I shoot up and grab my spear, holding it out towards – a dog? The thing barks happily and wags its tail.
Looking around, the terrain isn't the same as it was yesterday. I'm now laying on top of my sleeping bag, that is settled on a hard dirt floor.
"Hey boy, what happened?" I ask the dog, scratching its ear. This dog is kind of cute. But there's something strange about it. It seems to be growing. The teeth are growing longer and sharper, and the claws are doing the same. I stare at the once cute, now evil dog, as it lunges at me.
That's when I decide to pack up and run.
I sling the backpack over my shoulder, stuffing the sleeping bag into it as I run. I whip around and, grabbing a knife from our supply, fling it and watch it sink into the dog's back, where I think it's heart is. It gives a yelp, and I have time to run farther away.
I find another tree like the one I had stayed in, and climb up. I look over my shoulder as I climb, grinning because I have wounded the dog and escaped without a scratch.
But my grin drops, because as I come to the top of the tree, I find myself face to face with Septima.