Chapter 10: Severance

"You're going to need medicine," Zeppina mutters as she inspects my wound.

We moved away from the stream a few hours ago, traveling farther into the woods and up the side of the mountain. Night is falling quickly upon the arena, and the weather is getting steadily worse. The grey clouds from earlier have expanded to cover the entirety of the artificial sky. The temperature is dropping lower by the minute, nipping at us and causing shivers to wrack my body. Despite how uncomfortable I am, I find my eyes drooping closed every few seconds, the fatigue of today's encounter finally catching up to me.

Skinning the meat for dinner had been difficult. Every movement sends pain rippling through my body, but I try my best to look strong. The gashes in my arm are no longer bleeding, but the wound is tender, and even through my thick jacket I can tell that it's inflamed. It's becoming infected.

Surprisingly, I'm not filled with fear at the sight of the redness and swelling. The only thing I feel is frustration. I didn't outrun and then kill a muttation only to die of infection from some⎯though admittedly deep⎯scratches. The quickness of the irritation makes me wonder if the claws were laced with some type of poison. Knowing the Gamemakers, that's probably the case. When they decide to kill you, you're as good as dead. I practically growl in annoyance. I know that my limited knowledge of medicinal plants isn't going to help. Aside from the trees, there is no other brush in the forest, and I can't remember seeing anything that would be useful in any other part of the arena. I'm not expecting to get any medicine from sponsors either. It's one of the most expensive things they can send into the arena, and even with killing the mutt I doubt I have enough support for that. The long list of tributes that have died from infection is a testament to just how uncommon it is to receive it as a gift. And it's not like I can tell Barden to ask his sponsors. They may have sent wire for us all, but that's because he'd benefit from it too. They aren't going to save another tribute just because we're working together. There's only one option.

"We'd have to go to the Cornucopia," I sigh out, rubbing a hand over my face. Fear twists in my gut at the mere thought. Yup, as good as dead.

Zeppina shakes her head. "It's too dangerous. Even if the Careers have managed to break into it, we won't be able to get close enough to get anything. There's too many of them. They'd be on us in a second."

I don't bother trying to fight her on this. I'm too tired, and besides, I know that she's right. Even as the one in need of medicine, I don't even think it's a good idea.

"She could die otherwise. We don't have a choice," Barden argues, incredulous.

The tone is strange to hear coming from his mouth. I don't like it.

Zeppina shakes her head and throws a fleeting glance my way before looking back to Barden. "That may be and it would be unfortunate, but we could all die if we try to steal from their supplies."

She speaks in a detached manner, her practicality showing more than ever. I push away the slight feelings of betrayal I feel at her words. I'm not really offended by them; I have no right to be. We're in an alliance of convenience, it's not like we actually trust each other. I'm almost envious of her ability to look at everything so clinically. It'll help keep her alive in the arena.

It contrasts sharply with Barden's empathetic nature. "So we're just supposed to sit back and let it get worse?"

Yes, I think, a sad smile finding it way onto my lips. The kid is too kind for his own good. He should be more concerned about himself. Neither of them owes me anything, and this is too much to ask of people who are just my allies.

"You don't have to do that, Barden," I say, shaking my head at him. "Zeppina's right. There are eleven of them left. We'd be crazy to go in there. I can't ask you to put yourself in that position."

Zeppina nods, but Barden is unimpressed with my words. "You would do it for us."

I inwardly wince at the conviction in his voice. Would I? I wish I could say that I'm a better person, that I would do this for either one of them, but the truth is, I don't know if I would. Just this morning I had contemplated leaving them for dead so that I could get away from the mutt. I feel embittered with the memory. The Capitol is already turning me into a monster, someone so focused on her own survival that I'd be willing to let someone as innocent as Barden die so that I could live. I don't want either of them to make that type of sacrifice for me.

"It doesn't matter what I would do. It's too risky. You can't even guarantee they'll be medicine in the Cornucopia."

"There has to be," he says firmly. "If there isn't, then we run for it."

I can hardly believe the words I'm hearing. "That's a horrible plan."

I'm sure that Barden's kindness is winning him the support of women all over Panem, while my refusal of his help is branding me as stupid. Haymitch is probably gone back to drowning himself in alcohol. I couldn't blame him. The sane, rational side of me demands that I jump at his insistence, but it's fought off by the emotional side of me, the one that's fighting against the Capitol's desire for me to survive by any means necessary, even if that includes the death of my friends.

No, I can't think of Barden as a friend. That just makes everything more complicated. I inwardly scream. I'm not supposed to trust him. I need to focus on myself.

Barden heaves out a breath. "I know that it's dangerous, but we're in an alliance. That means we're supposed to help each other, right?" Sweet, naïve Barden. "There are ways to do it. The girl from Five found a way last year, and she was by herself," he says. He fails to mention the part about her plan ultimately getting her killed. "We could go at night when they're hunting, or when the next storm hits."

"We don't know when that'll be, or if there'll even be another storm," Zeppina says. One look at the overcast sky makes it obvious that it will be soon, but none of us say anything.

"Well, I think the cut on my face is getting infected. That makes two of us who need medicine, so I think we should go."

I turn to look at Barden's face, which is drawn into a look of determination. The cut he received during his fight with the boy from Two is scabbing over and is red around the edges, but it's impossible to tell if it's the result of infection or the biting cold air.

"Besides," he adds after a moment, "even if there isn't medicine, there might be other stuff there that we could use, things for the cold or some of the long-range weapons. The wire and the sleeping bag are good for now, but we don't how long we'll be here. Getting more supplies is the sensible thing to do."

There's a flash of contemplation of Zeppina's face before she huffs. "And how do you suggest we take them on? There are only three of us."

I purse my lips and stare at nothing in particular. "They only leave four tributes at the Cornucopia at a time. Or, at least that's what they've done the last few days," I say. I roll my eyes at the suspicious look Zeppina sends me. "I've been watching them. I know you've been too."

"I still don't like it," Zeppina mutters. I can tell that she's thinking it over though. I have to give Barden credit for his argument. He's appealing to Zeppina's practicality, and I think it's working. He's right about the status of our supplies. There's no telling what could happen during the rest of our time in the arena. The weather, the mutts, the climate⎯ it's all potentially life threatening. The smartest thing would be to get more supplies so that we can be prepared in case anything else happens.

Zeppina looks between Barden and I before she looks up towards the sky. We all sit in silence for a few moments, until Zeppina shakes her head and sighs. "Fine, but we don't go until the next storm. We grab what we can, and we get out quickly," she says with a tone of finality.

She likes Barden a lot more than she likes me, but I know that she'll have no problem leaving either of us behind if the time comes. Barden and I nod at her.

He sends Zeppina a small grin and tosses the sleeping bag at her. "I can take first watch. You guys get some sleep."

Neither of us protests his suggestion. I'm drained both physically and mentally, and I want nothing more than to crawl into the sleeping bag and sleep the rest of the Games away. I sigh at the warmth of the blanket enveloping me and close my eyes. I'm asleep in an instant.

I wake to the sound of the anthem. I rub my eyes tiredly and watch as the faces of The Fallen appear in the sky. The only picture that flashes is a girl from Ten, the one who must have fallen victim to the muttation. Nox.

I remember meeting her at lunch and watching the recap of her interview. She had been beautiful then, drawing the Capitol in with her mystery and elegant smile. Her beauty means nothing to them now. All they will remember is how she looked as she was torn to pieces by the mutt. I try to shake the thought from my mind. I don't want to think about how she looked when she died.

I turn my gaze on my allies. Both of their eyes are trained on the sky as the image disappears and the anthem fades.

"Go back to sleep. It's only been an hour or two," Barden says to us.

We both nod and lay back down. Zeppina's breathing evens out within minutes. I follow closely behind her.

Barden shakes me awake the following morning, or at least, I think it's morning. The sky is gloomy, a blanket of grey falling over the arena. It's reminiscent of the second day, and I immediately know that there will be another snowstorm today. This one might be even worse than the first.

My brows furrow when I notice Zeppina lying asleep beside me. There's no way that Barden stayed up the entire time. They must have alternated watch and let me sleep through the night. My body still ripples with pain, but I know that I would be a lot worse off without as much sleep. It makes me feel guilty and a little annoyed. The sleep is good for me, but I don't want to be indebted to them.

Barden is crouched down beside me, his face bright with a smile. "Come on, Briar," he whispers. "You can help me set some of the snares."

I crawl out of the sleeping bag. The cold air hits me in a rush, and I start shivering almost immediately. If I manage to survive, I'm going to hate winter for the rest of my life. My movements are stiff and mechanical as I test out my sore body. My joints protest every action. I'm sure that bruises cover every inch of my skin, and I suspect that I have a broken rib or two, all courtesy of my roll down the mountain. I internally groan at the memory. I looked pathetic in front of all of Panem.

I unwrap the bandage from my arm to examine the slash marks. It peels away with difficulty, sticking painfully to certain areas. I gag at the sight and smell that hits me. The skin is even more swollen than it had been the night before, burning hot even in the freezing temperature, and it now oozes a substance that smells viler than anything I've ever encountered. I'm starting to sweat even as chills run up and down my spine. I have a fever, I'm sure of it. The infection is progressing quickly, and if I don't get medicine soon, I know that it will kill me. My stomach ties itself into knots, but I try to push the idea away. If I focus on the fear, I won't be able to do anything. I pull the last piece of cloth I have from my pocket and rewrap the cuts. It won't do much, but it's better than nothing.

Slowly, I stand and make my way over to Barden. He hands me the wire, and gives me a quick smile. "How are you feeling?"

I grunt. "I've been better, but considering I rolled down half a mountain and almost got mauled by a giant cat, I'd say I'm doing better than expected," I say without looking up, instead choosing to focus on setting the snare.

I know he's really asking about the infection, but he'll just have to read between the lines. I'm not about to announce that I might die from it.

"Well, I think we should be able to go to the Cornucopia today. It looks like the storm could start any minute."

I bite my lip, ready to ask him if he's sure he wants to do this, but I stop myself. I don't have much of a choice, but he does, and it seems that he's already made up his mind.

I nod. "Yeah, maybe… I'm going go set this one up over there," I say, looking at no direction in particular. He sends me another smile, this one comforting, before I walk away to finish my work.

It takes me a long time to finish with the snare, considering that I'm practically doing it one handed and I glance frantically over my shoulder every time I hear a noise that sounds even the tiniest bit out of the ordinary. Despite this being my sixth day in the arena, I'm only just starting to realize how truly incomprehensible the Games are to those who haven't been in them. Sure, watching them on the television year after year instills a deep-rooted fear in everyone, but that terror sits in the back everyone's mind, only coming out when it's time for the reaping and disappearing as soon as it's over. I thought I understood it after watching the panic on Amelia's face through her Games, after watching her die before my eyes, but I was wrong. It's nothing compared to the sheer terror and paranoia that follows me wherever I go in the arena. It makes me feel weak, and I hate the Games even more for that.

I begin walking back just as it begins to flurry. The wind blows harshly, howling in my ears. A shiver runs down my spine as I watch the snowfall through the trees. It reminds me of the encounter with the crazed girl from Five and the rat-boy from Ten. I could be in another fight just like that in a matter of hours. Hopefully I'll be as lucky this time. I doubt it.

Zeppina is awake when I return. Her and Barden are discussing something in hushed tones that are impossible to hear over the whistling wind. I'm not overly concerned about it, though. Based on the frustrated look on the girl's face, I'm nearly positive that it has to do with going to the Cornucopia. She's clearly still skeptical of the idea. Not that I can blame her. Hell, I'm the one who needs medicine, and even I'm feeling uneasy about it. But at this point, it is what it is. If they decide they want to come with me, that's their prerogative. I'm not going to stop them.

Barden looks up and sees me approaching. They stop talking almost immediately. I smirk a little at how they stand upright, no doubt realizing how suspicious it seems, but I merely lift an eyebrow as I stop in front of them.

Zeppina's face is calculating as she looks me up and down. "Is it getting worse?"

"Not anything I can't handle," I say in response.

My arm throbs uncomfortably, but I don't let my tone give anything away. I can't let her think I'm weak, just like I can't let the Gamemakers or the Capitol people know how much this is distressing me. I make sure to stick a smile on my face for the cameras. Let them all think that I'm unaffected. Weak tributes get nothing, and they certainly don't win. I can pretend to be strong for a little longer.

"Did you finish with the snares?" I ask Barden after a moment.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, but you might want to check them," he says sheepishly. "You know I'm not very good with them."

I smirk and shake my head. "Where is it?"

He starts walking in the opposite direction of the snare I had set up. He stops in front of where he set his, and I look over it quickly before a snort finds its way past my lips.

"This is a mess, Barden. I mean, it's a bit of an improvement on the Training Center, but not by much," I say, humor coloring my voice. "You'd be starving without us, you know that, right?"

He shrugs, a boyish grin on his lips. "Probably, but you might not have wire if it weren't for me, so I think that makes us even."

I raise an eyebrow in his direction. "Touché."

I fix the snare quickly, and we head back towards Zeppina. She's packed the sleeping bag up already, prepared to leave at a moment's notice.

"The storm is getting worse," she says as we re-enter our makeshift camp. "But it's not safe enough to go yet. It might take a couple more hours."

She casts a glance in my direction, her eyes falling on my arm. I'm sure a part of her wouldn't be opposed to me keeling over from infection right now. That way she and Barden wouldn't have to go to the Cornucopia, and she'd most likely be safe for a little while longer. And it'd be one less person for her to get through. I can't fault her for thoughts like that. But I don't plan on dying anytime soon.

It's a little before midday, or what I assume to be midday, when the storm really begins to pick up. The wind itself is nearly blinding. It cuts through the air, making tears form in my eyes as they try to hydrate themselves in the crisp climate. The flurry from earlier has turned into complete chaos. Heavy snow intermingled with ice, which pelts violently against our bodies. The terrible conditions are perfect for us.

"Remember what I said. We get in and out as soon as we can. No sticking around for any reason," Zeppina says to Barden and I as we finish eating.

Barden gives her a nod in the affirmative. "Got it."

They both turn to look at me, and I glance between them quickly. "Yeah, agreed. I don't want to be there any longer than you do."

"We should get going then. It'll take us a few hours to get there in this weather."

We all stand up, already prepared to leave thanks to our limited supplies. Zeppina takes the pack⎯ one of her stipulations for going⎯ and we set off.

My stomach twists in anticipation and absolute fear of what might happen when we reach the Cornucopia. The weather ensures that we'll have cover, but it also means that the Careers will too. I do feel a little better about traveling in a group though. I know that the Careers have managed to break into that giant block of ice at this point, so they'll have weapons at the ready, but so will we. Barden's got his sword and a baton. I've given Zeppina one of my knives so that she has two. And thanks to that tree, I've now got this short sword and the knife I found the first day.

I bet all the people in the Capitol are waiting with bated breath for this; eager to see how this will play out, eager to see who guessed right on which of us would survive. I suppress a frown. The odds are probably not in my favor right now. The Careers have proven during the bloodbath that they're as deadly as they claim, but we've all proven that we're not going down without a fight either. Barden's already killed one of them, along with the boy from Ten, and I've managed to kill a mutt. Zeppina hasn't done much on the physical side, but she's proven herself to be resourceful, so I wouldn't count her out either. We're definitely not as outwardly threatening as the tributes from One, Two, and Four, but I think we can hold our own, especially with the weather on our side.

I gnaw at the inside of my cheek. I really, really don't want to die, especially from the slow, painful death that is no doubt in store for me if I don't get medicine. My desire to live doesn't just come from fear of death; it comes from the knowledge of who's watching me right now. The sixth day into the arena should be a Saturday⎯is a Saturday⎯ and that means everyone back home is watching. Everyone who means anything to me is watching. Even if I think they'll be able to get on with their lives without me, I don't want any of them to have to watch me die. Having experienced it firsthand, I don't know if there's anything worse in the world than sitting back, helpless, as you watch the people you love being taken away from you. Mabel had been with me when Amelia was killed, had sat with me and held my hand while I cried over her. I don't want her, or Mr. Fairbain, to have to go through the same things I did. I don't want Haymitch to put me on the list of tributes that didn't make it.

This has to work. I breathe in deeply and heave out a breath. This will work. I'm not going to let them win.

We trudge in silence. I can tell that both of my allies are just as nervous as I am, even if they try to cover their faces with a look of indifference. It's hard to mask the fear of death.

We have to stop every once in a while to make sure that we are going in the right direction. The sheet of white that we see all around us makes it impossible to see the mountains, and the thin forest looks more like a thicket in the harsh storm. I can feel weariness settling over me, but it's not from the trek or the poor conditions. I can feel the infection creeping through me, sapping my energy.. I ignore it and push through.

We make steady progress, breaking through the tree line after about two hours. The closer we get to the Cornucopia, the more alert I become. And the more nervous. I can't see it yet, but just knowing that we're close, that the Careers are so close, makes my heart pound beneath my aching ribs and my stomach clench uncomfortably. Who will be there? Cato, Mace, Nerissa? Whoever it is, I hope they have enough humanity to give me a quick death.

"We should follow the stream," Zeppina yells over the howling wind.

I can't see it anywhere, but she seems to know where it is because she starts walking to her left. Her steps are tentative, but the way her head keeps swiveling from side to side tells me that it's out of fear rather than uncertainty. She stops after about hundred feet and begins to walk in the direction we had originally been facing. I can see the ice covering the small stream now. I know that we are on the right track.

It does little to ease my nerves.

We walk for about another hour, the wind making our movements sluggish. The anxiety I feel reaches a painful degree when the tail of the Cornucopia becomes visible from where I'm standing. Seeing it makes it real. I must be going crazy from the infection because there's no other way I'd willingly walk into the Careers' camp. I feel like I'm about to vomit. I feel like that a lot lately.

Zeppina turns to Barden and I, a serious look covering her features. It's time to go over strategy. "You should go in first, Briar. You're the fastest out of all of us. You'll have the best shot at slipping past them. If anything happens, if we get separated, we'll meet at the lake."

I bite my lip nervously, but nod my head in agreement. Going in first means that I'm the most likely to be attacked⎯no, the most likely to get killed. But we're here for the medicine that I need; if anyone should go in as bait, it should be me.

"We'll have your back," Barden says.

I nod numbly, and begin gingerly making my way towards the Cornucopia, my two allies following a few feet behind me. I scan the area, but I can't see anyone. I'm on guard for an attack though, the sword gripped firmly in my hand. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye when I'm about ten feet from the Cornucopia. I run towards the tail, using it as cover. Slowly, I glance around the edge in the direction of the movement. It's impossible to see clearly, but I know it's a person. I know it's a Career. One.

I look back in the direction I came, thankful that I can't see Barden or Zeppina clearly. That means the Careers can't either. Staying close to the side of the Cornucopia, I warily begin walking towards the front. My pulse thrums loudly in my ears, terror leaking from every pore in my body.

I freeze in place when I spot another figure a little ways ahead of me. That makes two. I squint my eyes to try and see through the snow. I think their back is to me, but I can't be sure. I stay anchored where I am for minute, but the person doesn't come any closer. I start moving again, this time more quickly. I'm close to the opening. I need to get there.

I peer around the edge to get a better look at the front. There's another person on the far side, standing about twenty feet from the opening. Three. That leaves one unaccounted for. Or maybe there aren't anymore. None of them are facing me. This is the time to make a break for it. I round the corner quickly, practically throwing myself into the opening. I pull my sword up in front of me, prepared for an attack.

There isn't anyone in here. The only things I see are piles of supplies: weapons, food, sleeping packs. I glance over my shoulder, making sure that none of them have discovered me. The mouth of the Cornucopia remains empty. Cautiously, I begin looking over each pile, throwing looks over my shoulder every few seconds. I can't see what's going on outside; the storm is too fierce.

Everything in the Cornucopia has been carefully separated into designated sections. It makes them extremely easy to sort through. I'd smirk if I weren't so nervous. How nice of them. I don't waste time looking over them though. I head straight to what I take to be the medicine pile. I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of it. It's stacked high. There's probably enough to treat half of the tributes.

I rummage through it, picking up a roll of bandages and two containers of medicine. It's difficult to know which container is for what, so I grab the ones that look the most expensive. I stuff them in my pocket and turn to look at the other piles, searching for food. There are so many different groups that it's hard to tell which is which. My eyes scan over a pile that contains flashlights and goggles. It's for night hunting. Shaking my head, I go back to looking for food. It's two piles over, and I start to move towards it, but go rigid in my spot before I have the chance. The sound of someone moving reaches my ears. Oh God. It's probably the Career I haven't accounted for. I clench the sword tightly, ready to attack but a voice cuts me off.

"Well this is nice. Who knew they'd be so organized," comes Zeppina's anxious voice. I turn around to see her glance over the different piles.

A sigh of relief brushes past my lips. "Yeah, they're just full of surprises." I glance over her shoulder, but there's no one else there. "Where's Barden?"

"Keeping watch," she says. "Hurry up. Let's grab what we need and go."

I don't bother replying, instead turning to do as she suggests. I go back to the food pile while Zeppina looks through the bundle of clothes and sleeping supplies. I'm surprised by what the Gamemakers have placed in here. There's no meat. Everything is packaged fruit. Have the Careers been surviving on this? Do they even know how to hunt anything that's not human? I bite my lip as I look the food over. Even more reason to take it.

Hurriedly, I grab a small backpack and stuff some bags of fruit into it as well as two empty water bottles. I grab another knife for good measure. It'll be good to have a spare if I have to throw one and lose it. I can see Zeppina stuffing some things into a pack as well, her movements just as rushed and tense as mine. I pull the pack onto to my back, fighting back a whimper as pain shoots down my left arm. I can worry about that later. I don't know how long we've been here, a few minutes at most, but we need to go.

"You good?" Zeppina asks as she slings her pack on.

"Yeah, let's go. I'll go first, you follow me."

She nods as I make my way to the opening. The only thing I feel is dread. We've been here too long. I know that something isn't right. I'm about to make a run for it when the sound of screeching reaches my ears. It doesn't take me more than a few seconds to identify the noise. It's the sound of metal on metal. I can't tell where the sound is coming from, but I know that it's close. I hear Barden call out to Zeppina and I. I raise my sword to defend myself, but nothing comes. I squint, trying to see through the haze of white. I faintly make out two figures circling each other. One suddenly lunges for the other, the screeching noise filling my ears once again. It's Barden and one of the Careers. My stomach drops. They know we're here.

Something flashes to the right of me. I suck in a sharp breath and crane my head to the side. My heartrate skyrockets. I know that someone is there. It flashes again, and suddenly there's something flying at my head. I throw myself to the ground, the object just barely skimming past the top of my skull. A spear embeds itself in the icy wall as I hit the ground, and I wince sharply when the impact jostles my arm. I clutch the sword even tighter and pull myself to my feet, frantically searching for my attacker. My eyes land on a large form emerging from the snow.

"Well look what we have here."

It's said low and tauntingly, the deep timbre of the voice making the hairs on my neck stand on end. I vaguely recognize the other boy from One. Tilver? He's not Cato or Mace, but that doesn't make me any less terrified of him. He has a sword in one hand and a cruel smirk lighting his features. I shiver involuntarily as he walks closer. There's nowhere for me to go. My back is pressed to the wall of the Cornucopia, and the boy is advancing on me quickly. My eyes flit over to where Zeppina had been moments before, but she is nowhere to be seen now. I distantly hear the sound of fighting outside the Cornucopia, but I train my focus on the boy approaching me. I need to do something.

Think! My mind comes up empty. I try my best to scowl at him, to pretend like I'm not afraid. His face contorts into a gleeful snarl, and he laughs at the panic I can't mask from my expression.

He stops about ten feet from me, raising the sword so it's level with my chest. "My, my," he chides, "it looks like you've gotten yourself into a bit of bind."

He is a Career through and through. His eyes shine with bloodlust as he utters the sentence, and I know he's going to kill me. I'm sure that whatever death he's imagining for me is slow and painful. His eyes shift over to my injured arm, and he smirks even wider.

"Trying to steal from us? Not very smart, are you?"

He's toying with me. It's his first mistake, and the only one I need him to make. Think! Do something! The knife I picked up comes from the weapons pile, which the Careers have strategically placed next to the opening, and now, next to me. Distract him, my mind screams at me.

I shrug. "A girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's quite the setup you have here, a lot of nice stuff. I didn't think you'd miss it."

He laughs again, a threatening sort of sound, and I inch my free hand towards one of the weapons sitting in the pile against the wall. He doesn't notice. He's too busy laughing at me.

"Mace was right. You are fun⎯for a District Twelve rat." Bile rises in my throat at the twisted compliment.I will myself to look strong.

The sound of a cannon booming distracts both of us for a moment. Who? I spot a body sprawled out on the ground, but I know that it's one of the Careers. I can distantly make out Barden fighting with someone else. I snap out of it when I see movement. Zeppina uses the time to dart out of the Cornucopia. His eyes flit over to her briefly, but it's all I need. I close my hand around a weapon I can't identify, and I hurl it at him. He grunts and falls back as the weapon lodges itself in his shoulder. The action sends agonizing pain through my arm, but I ignore it. I sprint out of the Cornucopia and into the snowstorm.

I don't make it far; the weather's too harsh and the boy's strides are too long for me to escape. He grabs my backpack and yanks me hard. I slam into his body, his arm wrapping around my neck and his hand covering my mouth.

"You little bitch. You're going to pay for that," he snarls. I want to cry, but I force myself to focus.

"Nerissa claimed you as her kill, but I think I'm going to have change that. I'm going to make you scream. You're going to beg for mercy, and guess what, slum rat? You aren't going to get it."

This is the end for me. I know it. I'm sure everyone in the Capitol knows it too. But I'm not going to go down without a fight.

I bite down on his hand, digging my teeth into his flesh with as much force as I can, before elbowing him in the ribs and stomping on his foot. The fabric on his hand rips and I taste his blood when the skin breaks. He howls in pain, his grip loosening enough for me to escape. It's not much room, but it's enough for me to raise my sword to block his next attack. The screeching of the metal is painfully loud in my ears as adrenaline pumps through me. I stumble from the force of his blow. He has to have at least fifty pounds on me. But his size makes him slower. I have speed on my side and I'm a smaller target. I can't let him get too close. I'm already out numbered. There are at least two other Careers left.

He swings at me again with an animalistic growl. I narrowly dodge the brunt of his attack, but I grunt in pain when his sword nicks my shoulder. Even though I've never been in a sword fight, I can tell that he's not trying one hundred percent. He thinks I'm weak, that I'm an easy kill. He's underestimating my desire to live.

I swing at his torso, but he blocks it easily, pushing me back with a rough shove. My heart pounds furiously. I'm never going to win this with a sword. I didn't even use one in the Training Center. I'm useless with it. I need something else, anything else.

I thank the Gamemakers for choosing this moment to blow a particularly violent gust of air through the arena. Tilver and I both stagger. The force of the wind blows snow into our faces, and there's nothing but a wall of white in front of me. This is my chance. His bigger body makes him clumsier than me, and I recover more quickly than he does. I slash at the air wildly, my sword colliding with something hard. I hear a dull thud, and I know I've hit the body when red drops fly through the air. I don't hesitate to make a run for it.

I take off in the direction of Barden, my legs pumping furiously beneath me. I catch sight of his black jacket through the snow. He's moved farther away from the Cornucopia, but he's still fighting one the Careers, both of them swinging away at each other. My lungs burn painfully in my chest as my feet carry me forward. I want nothing more than to leave this place behind and run as fast as I can to the lake, but I can't leave Barden behind.

I push myself against the biting wind. Just a little more. I glance over my shoulder to make sure that Tilver hasn't followed me. Satisfied that there's nothing there, I turn back again.

Crippling panic seizes my body. I see a flash of movement behind Barden, a lone gray shadow, but he doesn't notice. He's too busy fighting off his opponent. The wind howls loudly, blowing snow violently through the air. I'm frozen to the ground, helpless to do anything but watch as Barden falls to his knees. The shadow behind him takes form as they lower the knife, slashing it across his throat.

I feel nothing for a moment, too distracted by the red intermingling with the white, too distracted by the shrill scream of his name that battles against the cannon echoing through the air.

Two heads turn to me as he slumps to the ground, and I realize that the screaming voice belongs me. My heart stutters as the two figures begin to move towards me, one of them raising a knife in preparation. My brain screams at me to run. Before I know what I'm doing, I fling the sword in their direction, trying to distract them as I take off in a sprint. I don't care where it lands. I need to get out of here. I hear a shriek behind me as the sword does its job. I don't look back, not even when I feel a blade clip my injured arm.

I run, and run, and run, my body propelled forward by some unknown force. I don't notice anything as I go. My pulse thrums and everything seems blurrier than before, meshing into a suffocating blanket of white. My mind repeats one solitary word: Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

The wind whips viciously against my face and my body aches all over. I don't feel any of it.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

Images flash in my mind; images of glinting silver and scarlet. Two memories merging seamlessly, forcing a sob past my lips.

Dead. Dead.

Barden.

Amelia.

Dead.

My legs continue moving, carrying me away from sweet, innocent Barden. I faintly hear myself hiccup another sob. I don't stop running.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Wahhh, I'm so sorry, but we all knew he had to die. Poor Barden, though. I didn't think it would be that hard to kill a character off, but boy was I wrong. Guess we'll just have to wait and see how Briar reacts.

As you guys can tell, this chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones (like half the length... sorry) so as a result, I'll post chapter 11 hopefully Monday, but that will be on the shorter side as well.

Reviews:

Guest: Briar's way of thinking can be quite complicated at times since its rather different than my own thinking, so it's always fun to write. Don't worry, Cato definitely plays a big part in this story, so be ready!

WhiteEevee: Barden is—was—indeed very awesome. A bit on the dramatic side though if you could tell by his one sentence answers XD. I've always wanted to write a character that fell sort of in the mold of a young Finnick, you know, the kind without all the apparent sex appeal and less sardonic, hence the sponsor love. AHHHHH the chase scene. It'll tell you right now, this story has roughly 26 chapters and that scene alone probably took me longer than any chapter on the whole... it was a real struggle to get the pacing. :( typos... the bane of my existence

SlyviaHunterOfArtemis: Sadly, there is no longer a need to be suspicious of Barden... the sword, well, that's sort of just randomly placed, as are all the weapons in the arena. Sorry if that wasn't clear. Thanks for keeping up with the story and reviewing (: it really means a lot!

'Til Monday (or Tuesday, possibly)!