13

Prim's mind screamed RUN! But her feet wouldn't obey.

A sadistic smile twisted Cato's lips and he took long purposeful strides toward her, lifting the giant machete over his head. The blood of his last victim dripped on his face, but he didn't slow.

This was it. I'm sorry Katniss.

A knife tumbled through the air and the butt of the handle slammed into Cato's temple. Blood exploded from his head. He lurched to the side in reflex, and then someone was grabbing Prim's arm with a tight grip and yanking her away.

"Oh my gosh, Prim, get out of here!" Peeta's desperate voice jolted her out of her terror. She closed her fist over the knife and he pulled her toward the forest. Cato let out a giant roar from behind them. Prim twisted her head to look, but Peeta pushed her forward even harder. "Just keep running. He's not coming after us."

They ran, pell-mell, through the screams and dying bodies. Some sort of hatchet flew past Peeta's head. He didn't flinch, just scooped it up as they ran. Prim couldn't breathe. She couldn't see through the tears filling her eyes.

Peeta saved her.

"Is Cato dead?" she sobbed. Why was she crying?

"No," Peeta gasped. "I can't throw worth beans, but I think I nicked him. The handle of the knife is what did the most damage. Stunned him, I think. Maybe someone else got him while he was startled. Too bad we lost the knife, but at least we have the hatchet."

They entered the forest, leaping over fallen branches and tangled bushes. Leaves slapped her face. Peeta didn't let go of her arm, not even when she tumbled to the ground. He yanked her back up and they kept going. The knife in her hand grew slick from her sweat. She needed to put it away.

"Peeta—"

"Keep running."

She wiped the tears away with the back of her wrist and looked around at the blurring forest. "Where's Rue?"

"We've got to keep running, Prim. She's probably safe somewhere."

"Will we find her?"

He slowed a fraction. "Maybe." He slapped aside a low-hanging branch. "And maybe it's best if we don't."

Prim gasped. "You wouldn't kill her, would you?"

"If she was trying to kill you then yes, I would."

"Oh, well she won't try to kill me."

He said nothing to that. Didn't he believe her?

They alternated running and jogging for a long time and Prim couldn't get her thoughts straight. She was alive now. Alive with no plan at all. Things just became a whole lot more difficult but…she didn't mind so much. It was nice to still be breathing.

Hours passed. Prim didn't think she could go another step. Her hand cramped around the knife she'd gotten for Peeta. The slingshot she tucked into her belt created a dark bruise against her hipbone from the running.

"Let's rest." Peeta glanced around the forest. Prim hung tight by his side. They'd been running so long, surely no one chased them.

The knife slid from her fingers and plopped onto the ground, crunching some dead leaves. She teetered to a fallen log and sat on it.

"Where'd you get this?" Peeta picked up the knife.

"The Cornucopia. I got it for you." She pulled the slingshot from her belt and rubbed her hipbone. "And this is for Rue."

"Well you can use it until we find her." A cannon startled them both and Peeta looked at the sky. "The fighting at the Cornucopia must have stopped. We'll know who died when the sun sets, that should be pretty soon." One…two…three…on and on the cannon shots went until it reached eleven.

She let the backpack slide from her shoulders, not wanting to think about who died…though she kind of hoped Cato had. She kept imagining his sick grin as he advanced to kill her. She plopped the backpack on her lap. "Let's look in here. I'm so thirsty."

"Wow, you grabbed a lot from the Cornucopia, Prim."

That's because I was getting it for you and Rue. It was easier being brave for others. She opened the brown backpack. Inside were two sets of sunglasses, an empty leather pouch with a drawstring, two rolls of white bandages, a lighter, and a loaf of bread. Down at the very bottom of the pack was a tiny eight-ounce bottle filled with water.

"Wow, a whole loaf." Peeta took it from her and turned it over.

"It'll make us thirsty if we eat it right now." Prim eyed the water. That sure wasn't much. She could drink the whole bottle right now. She almost didn't want to show it to Peeta, but that would be greedy. "Look, we have water."

He glanced at the bottle. "There's not much. Let's each take a sip of water. We'll save the bread for later."

She nodded. Of course they had to share. He let her take the first sip. The lukewarm liquid soothed her sticky throat for one glorious moment. Then she wanted more, but she handed the bottle to Peeta. He took a tiny sip. "Five more minutes, then we'll keep walking to find a river or something."

She nodded with a heavy head, already wishing for sleep and safety. But those things were no longer a part of her life. Now, she was prey.

She tied the drawstring pouch to her belt and then put on the sunglasses. Everything looked darker and muddled with them on. "I wonder what these do." She handed a pair to Peeta.

He looked through them, then tucked one set into his pocket. "They must do something. We'll fiddle with them later. Time to get moving again."

They continued walking, only this time Prim wasn't blinded by terror. She took in the terrain and plants around her. Elderberry, dandelion, feverfew, hawthorne, henna…the list went on. She knew these plants. She could use these.

She was walking through a wild apothecary.

Peeta let her gather a few handfuls of this, a few handfuls of that. She stored them in her pack. She also picked up small rocks as they went and put them in the pouch she'd tied to her belt. For some reason, the idea of using the slingshot with some rocks didn't didn't bother her. It'd be good for self defense. How much harm could she really do to someone?

Besides, when they found Rue, it'd be nice to have a pouch of rocks to give her with the slingshot.

Night finally came and Peeta cleared a space beneath a fallen log. Prim's entire body ached and even the lumpy ground looked appealing. She squirmed under the log, cringing against the chill seeping into the dirt. Peeta came in after her. He took his jacket off and laid it over both of them.

"Body heat can keep us a little warmer."

Prim tensed. This was weird. Even though Peeta saved her, he was still a boy and it felt weird to be scrunched under a log next to him. But then again, he was trying to protect her. He was like a big brother. How different was this from Prim falling asleep with Katniss or Mom?

The anthem started up and, through a side-view out from under the log, Prim glimpsed the faces of the fallen tributes. While Peeta counted on his fingers and kept track of their District numbers, Prim just held her breath…waiting for District 11.

It never came.

That meant Rue was alive. So was Thresh, but that didn't matter much to her. He was scary. And huge. Bigger than Cato. Had he killed people today?

"Goodnight, Prim." Peeta clutched the knife in one fist and lay facing outward, keeping watch.

"Goodnight, Peeta. And…thank you for protecting me." She closed her eyes, certain she'd never fall asleep under here. Creepy crawlies moved everywhere on her skin—both imagined and real. She tried not to think of spiders or fire ants or centipedes.

But her body wouldn't let her stay awake too long. Despite the growing cold, Prim slipped into a restless, terrified sleep.

Only a few hours passed before she woke to a strangled scream, echoing from the darkened forest to her left. She bolted upright, smacking her head on the log. Peeta's hand clamped down on her mouth and he shoved her back to the ground. For a wild moment, she was afraid he'd kill her, but then his hiss hit her ears. "They're here. They just killed another tribute nearby."

He breathed heavily, trying to both catch his breath and stifle it. "I think they tracked us."

.

.

To be continued...

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"How would you live, if you knew the day you'd die?"