Chapter 33:

I feel the emotion rise up inside of me as I stare at the picture. All of my thoughts and feelings from the past two years- playing the Games, mentoring Prim, going through the Quell- are pretty accurately summarized in those few words. But they are words I would never in a million years have had the courage to say aloud, or write down.

I shake my head in disbelief. "They were on our side," I whisper sadly. "If only the alliance had known."

Haymitch ducks his head, in sort of a tribute, remembrance. "Yeah." He looks directly at me now. "They're like us in some ways. They wanted to rebel, but their District hadn't gotten there quite yet. You can see why that's difficult to trust, right? And they didn't hurt a soul."

I get his point. "It's not the same." I give Peeta a sidelong glance. "Um….they're not the same- our two tributes. As each other, I mean." Prim and Paavo differ in just about every way imaginable- except that they are both linked through Peeta and I. I glance back at Peeta, and while he looks hurt, he can't deny what I just said. Paavo is determined, unscrupulous. Prim is- well, I know I'm biased, but she's the picture of naiveté and innocence. Coincidentally, the camera flashes on Prim as I'm thinking of her; she is checking on Copper at their camp, gently pulling off the moss to examine her wound.

"See?" I say, as if to prove my point. "Prim is helping to revive the District 3 tribute. That should count for something."

Haymitch grunts. "Maybe it does. But it doesn't offset what Paavo did, unfortunately." He glances at Peeta, too, who slumps down further into his chair.

Thoroughly discouraged from the news Haymitch just dropped on us, Peeta and I have no desire to continue to hang out in the wagering bar with him. So we retreat back to the twelfth floor of the Training Center, back to the couch. We snuggle up and I rest my head on Peeta's chest as we watch more of the Quell.

The evening passes uneventfully in the arena. The Careers, after a small dinner of a single beaver split between the four of them, ready their packs to go hunting in the woods at daybreak. They seem a little more subdued, however, after having lost one of their own. The alliance is bundled up in their makeshift tent; the fire is roaring, and they are eating dinner comprised of – what else? – fish that Annella caught, supplemented by some food from the Cornucopia, like granola bars. I shake my head- they are relying on that Cornucopia food too heavily- it will be gone in the next couple of days if they don't use it more sparingly. Then again, since there have already been fifteen deaths in the arena, perhaps banking on the fact that they won't be there that much longer anyway isn't all that unwise.

As the tributes settle in for the night, Peeta and I kiss some more. You would think that the circumstances would make me want to stay away from him- first of all, Peeta and I being together is something that the Capitol is pushing for, so inherently I should want to rebel against it. More importantly, however, his brother is affecting Prim's chances in the arena- to survive, to ultimately be rescued. But, I rationalize, Prim has already defied the odds in my opinion, and the Games are far from over. And it would be unfair to punish the boy with the bread- who has done everything in his control to save me, in so many ways, because of who he's related to. I think of the highlights of last year's Games, and everything he's done for me since then. Peeta messed up with Armondo, but his heart was in the right place- and given how disgusting Armondo was, it was easy to forgive. I kiss him with urgency.

But it doesn't last long this time. Because as we're kissing, and the tributes are getting ready to go to sleep, the Gamemakers get ready to set in motion the alliance's next group of obstacles. And they're huge.

Muttations.

Peeta and I are between kisses as one flashes on the TV screen, and out of the corner of my half-closed eye I happen to see it. I gasp, eyes shooting open, and immediately pull away. I point to the TV, shaking my head, speechless. After Peeta turns his head around and looks in the same direction that I am, he curses under his breath.

The muttations look like mountain lions. Which makes sense I guess, because as of less than twenty-four hours ago the arena has a mountain. They remind me a lot of last year's muttations- human-like, with bright eyes- though whether they are made up of the fallen tributes is not yet readily apparent. Unlike last year, I can view them close-up without worry - but it certainly doesn't seem like that to me, I feel paralyzed with fear, and I can't look at the screen for more than a second or two. My heart is palpitating and my breathing erratic; I am so scared that I feel like I am about to pass out. Though this time the fear isn't for me- it's for Prim.

The muttations are caged together at the top of the mountain before they are released with a flourish. They take off dashing down the mountain, snarling and growling.

Again, though, the campsite is a good distance away, and the muttations are making a lot of noise. The alliance will have fair warning. I wonder how the Gamemakers feel about the success rate of these tactics; they would probably be more effective, more lethal, if who they're attacking had no warning signs at all. Then again, that wouldn't make for very dramatic TV.

Jack, who is on watch outside, hears the rustling first, twigs cracking, and is instantly at attention. He whispers frantically inside of the tent. "Something's coming right towards us! We have to get away, NOW. Get out, go!"

Prim, Annella, and Mouseface come scrambling out of the shelter. As soon as they do, they can better hear the sounds Jack is referring to- and their eyes bulge with panic, but only for a moment.

"To the trees!" Prim shouts loudly for her, which isn't very loud. But it's loud enough, and the other girls understand. They all take off.

I can't tell you how grateful I am at that moment that I spent so much time with Prim climbing trees at the end of our training. The drills I made her do with climbing the bases of tree trunks rapidly especially pay off- because she is in a safe place in her tree before the muttations are even seen on the same TV screen. Mouseface, too- she is wiry and light. Annella is a little slower, but manages to be out of reach just as the muttations leap into the air towards her tree- they bang into the trunk just below her, and hit the ground hard. She heaves a sigh of relief as they harmlessly continue to growl from below. But for Jack, who had gone back into the tent and for a moment and is only just now running towards a tree, they are exponentially more dangerous.

Jack is quick- but so are the mountain lions. There are four of them in all, and three of them turn from Annella's tree trunk to head after him. As I look more closely at their bodies, I see that one of the mountain lions is exceedingly long in length- and I realize that they must be the dead tributes after all- the long one looks exactly like Paul. I look closer, paying much more attention than I did when they were first shown- and realize that the other three closely resemble Ohm, Joel, and Elena. Members of the alliance. I shiver. My first thought- the Capitol somehow knows what they're up to. And now they're using them against each other. I hope to God that I am wrong.

Jack reaches the base of his tree safely- he didn't have as far to travel- and his strong arms pull him quickly upwards, but the mountain lions are right on his tail. As he scampers up the side of the trunk, the three lions lunge and pitch themselves into the air, baring their teeth. The Paul-looking one, with its length and vertical leap, gets the highest, high enough to sink its teeth into Jack's thigh. He screams in agony as gravity pulls the muttation- along with a substantial portion of his leg flesh- away from him.

The camera pans to Annella looking at Prim, who is in the adjacent tree. Her eyes are teary. "You'll be able to fix him up, won't you, Prim?" she asks her desperately.

"I don't know, I hope so," Prim replies. She hesitates a second. "Copper didn't get out, did she?"

Annella shakes her head no. And then she points downward, where the muttations have all converged on the alliance's campsite. The members still alive are forced to watch helplessly from above as muttations from the alliance's past dive into their shelter and literally tear Copper apart.