Chapter 4
Cato
"Is that the last of them?" I ask, surveying the dead bodies surrounding the cornucopia. I see Clove pinning down a puny boy, why hasn't she killed him already?
"Cato, you'd want to hear this," she calls to me, over her shoulder. Sighing, I walk to Clove, seeing her dig her knife into the boy's throat. He's sweating horribly and looks like he's going to pass out from fear. Beads of blood start forming and mixing with his sweat.
"What is it?" I ask. Clove looks at me and indicates the boy. He has a three on his clothes.
"I... It's the mines, they're- if I could just- we" he stutters. "We can use the mines as weapons."
"They deactivate when the games start, everybody knows that." I say, wondering why he's still alive.
"I can rewire them. I'm from district three, I know this stuff. Trust me," he says, voice shaking.
"Why would we need mines? We're not exactly outnumbered." Why did I say that? Of course we're outnumbered. We're the stronger ones is what I should have said.
"Actually, we are out-" I send him my if-you-don't-stop-talking-i'll-do-it-for-you glare. "We still need to protect the supplies, people will still steal from them. Unless we sleep under the pile. You've seen it been done other years." He has a point, they could slowly take all our food without us knowing. I consider what he says for a few seconds, then nod. He gulps and quickly runs to the supply pile for tools. That should keep him from bugging me for a while. By now everybody has followed him, and I stand here.
I think I see something out of the corner of my eye but dismiss it. Then I see it again. Somebody's in the distance, walking towards us with their arms in the air. Peeta. He came back, I doubted he'd remember after the drug I gave him last night. I suppress a laugh but a small one escapes, then begin to walk in his direction.
He must be shitting himself, for all he knows he's not a Career. Then everybody runs past me, even including that boy from three. I don't know what they're playing at, if I wanted him dead he'd be dead by now. I order them behind me. I can tell they're giving him looks because he looks like he's going to run away any second. When we're fifteen meters away from each other we stop.
"I thought you ditched us," I say, wondering what his reaction will be.
"I forgot I was a Career, kind of, I..." Well that was the whole point of the drug. I need to give him a good reason for wanting to come back, though, or the guys will question my authority.
"You didn't want to fight in the bloodbath?" I ask, hoping he'll use it. There's a pause.
"Can I come back?" he asks, how to the hell do I reply to that? They'll think I'm up to something if I just let him back in. I know Marvel knows, or should have guessed by now, but still.
"Why shouldn't we just kill you now?" Marvel interrupts. Thank god, he saved me, but I can't let him take over me like that.
"Marvel, shut up, let me handle this," I say, trying to sound annoyed, but happy he's saving my ass.
"For God's sake, I need to get this thing bandaged up. Not have a stupid meeting," he says, pulling up his right trouser leg, showing the wound on his shin and the tattoo on his ankle all Careers get. Peeta sees his leg and looks horrified. Does he recognize the tattoo? That can't be possible, by the time I left the shower this morning he was in the lift. No, the doors had just closed. Of course! He had seen my tattoo and now thinks it's Marvel. I'll just explain it to Marvel later.
Marvel's running at Peeta, shit why didn't I grab him? Peeta's not even running. The gap is closing. I have to do something. Who's more valuable, Peeta or Marvel? If I want to play gay love-birds with anybody it'll have to be Peeta. That's the only way I can ensure my winning. Why does Marvel have to put me in this situation. My choice is already made. I nudge Clove then nod at Marvel and in a flash a throwing knife is buried into his back. He falls, coughing blood.
"Nothing to see here, I'll finish him," I say gravely. They walk to the supplies while I go to the dying Marvel.
"What the fuck, man?" I ask.
"He was going to" blood splutters out his mouth, "spill."
"No he wasn't, you thick twat," I reply, yanking the knife from his back, he cries in pain. "He didn't even remember he was a Career." I see vague understanding on his face. "You fucked up." I say, slicing his throat. The cannon bangs and look up. Peeta's staring at me, I thought he'd walked off with the rest.
"I was going to spill what?" He asks. Shit.
A/N: Iiiiiiiiiiiit's here! Hope y'all enjoyed :) remember to review and favourite (and that i'm a beta reader) thank you