23
Morning came without punishment from the Capitol.
Prim's shoulders stayed tense the whole time she changed Marvel's bandage. Something was coming. The air stung with a threat. Would it come from the Capitol? From other tributes? From Marvel?
Peeta crouched by the river, stabbing fish with Marvel's spear. He missed more than he killed one, but Prim was proud of him. She didn't want to be the one killing fish.
"Four days," Rue chirped. "We've survived four whole days."
"Three and a half." Marvel pushed Prim's hands away. "I'm fine, okay? Geez."
She hurriedly tied off the bandage. There. That clean one would last him at least two more days. The wound was closing and there wasn't any sign of infection. "Stay hydrated."
She rinsed the old bandage in the creek, ringing out the blood and water until the rung water ran clear. She set it out on a rock to dry—the same rock upon which she'd left her fish the previous night.
It was gone.
The tribute was still following them…and hadn't killed them in their sleep. It couldn't be Cato.
Prim's stomach squirmed. She should tell Peeta. He'd want to find out who was following. But what could they do? The person was clearly skilled in being silent while Peeta was skilled at tromping through underbrush like an elephant. They couldn't hide from this tribute. The best Prim could do was hope the tribute would realize that they—Prim's new little tribute family—were the good guys. Well…she was still working on Marvel.
"So what did you do in your district?" Rue asked Marvel as she gathered stones from the river bank for her sling.
"You don't know what the different districts do?"
Unfazed, she ditched a white rock and fished for a smaller one. "Nope!"
"We make jewels. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies…" His voice took on a suave attitude, as though trying to woo whoever was listening. "The beautiful things. For the beautiful people in the Capitol." His eyes searched the area around them, then stopped on a knot in one of the trees. He winked at it.
Prim looked, but didn't see anyone.
"Winking at the camera won't get you more sponsors." Peeta strung the fish on his belt.
"Oh people care about me. They know I'm going to win, especially when I'm up against a bunch of tributes who won't kill me." He rotated his shoulder, testing its movement.
"I like it here." Rue finished gathering stones and then sat by Prim. "It's a little bit like home. So many trees and mockingjays." She whistled her little tune again and the mockingjays echoed it.
"It's boring." Marvel lost his suave tone. "Too boring for everyone watching. Trust me…I know the Capitol people. I'm practically one of them—we like the same things. Entertainment, jewels, beauty…I plan to give them what they want."
A show.
That's all they ever wanted. A show. And Marvel did seem to know how to play into their hands. Would he always and forever be acting?
"Things are a bit different in District twelve," Prim chimed in, willing her voice to be strong. She didn't really want to talk about home, but…it might help Marvel. "We don't have much chance to see jewels or beautiful things but we have our own values." She looked up and caught Marvel's eye. He seemed to look at her more often whenever she spoke. "Family. Home. Unity. Those are jewels, too…for the heart."
She expected an eye roll. A scoff. A jab. But Marvel just looked at her with a curious tilt to his head.
"Even though you don't feel it," she continued, "I view you as part of my family. You, and Peeta, and Rue."
"What about when I kill you?" It didn't come out as a threat this time. The question was heavy, testing, more curious than anything else.
"Even then. I know I'm going to die in these games. And I plan to die among family."
The scoffing Marvel returned and he laughed through his nose. "Oooookay." But it was an act again. For a moment…she saw the real Marvel.
Peeta rose slowly to his feet. "Do you guys…hear anything?"
Prim's ears perked and caught a distant rushing noise. Louder than the river. She couldn't place it. "I hear…rushing. Crackling."
"Fire!" Rue screamed and, as if to punctuate her shriek, a giant wall of fire burst into sight only a few yards off.
"Run!" Peeta hoisted the spear, grabbed Prim's arm, and pulled her toward the river.
"It's not deep enough!" It barely reached her ankles, as though someone had drained it in mere seconds.
"Across, then!" Peeta's panic fed into her own, but not enough to make her forget about the others.
She craned her neck, but didn't see Rue or Marvel. "Where are they?"
"We'll find them afterward." But even amidst the roaring, Prim could tell Peeta wasn't certain…or even concerned.
No time to worry.
The wall was upon them, the heat singing her back as they ran. Tripped. Fled.
No time to think.
A fireball burst past them, grazing her ear and she screamed. Peeta yelped and let go of her jacket for a mere second. In that second, she saw another fireball flying from the right. She dodged, her foot caught on a root, and she tumbled down a hill slope, head over heels, until her knee caught a tree stump and knocked her to a rough stop.
She pushed up on all fours, looked at the top of the hill and saw, for a moment, Peeta standing above, far away, with wide eyes and a cry on his lips. Too far to hear.
The wall of fire sped toward him like a beast on wheels.
"Peeta!" she screamed. He rolled, but the fire swept over the place he'd been standing.
A cannon boomed.
.
.
To be continued...
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How would you live if you knew the day you'd die? Parvin Blackwater believes she has wasted her life. At only seventeen, she has one year left according to the Clock by her bedside. In a last-ditch effort to make a difference, she tries to rescue Radicals from the government's crooked justice system. But when the authorities find out about her illegal activity, they cast her through the Wall - her people's death sentence. What she finds on the other side about the world, about eternity, and about herself changes Parvin forever and might just save her people. But her clock is running out.