27

Prim's gasp echoed through the darkness.

Marvel startled awake and leapt to his feet, knife in hand. Prim leaned away from him, rustling the leaves covering her. He moved toward her, high on alert. Did he think she was an enemy in the camp?

"It's me!" she squeaked.

His posture slackened. "No one else is around?"

"Not that I know of."

He plopped back on the ground. "Great." He didn't sound happy about it. Did he want a fight?

"Peet and Rue are alive!" Her family…still in tact.

"Yippee." With that, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Prim wanted to nudge him awake, to ask if they could go search for Peeta and Rue the next morning, but she held her tongue. She shouldn't push her luck with Marvel. As she closed her eyes, a flutter of nerves hit her heart. What if she had to choose?

What if Marvel wouldn't join her in finding Peeta and Rue? Would she have to choose between him and the others? The more she thought about it, the more she was certain he wouldn't agree to it.

Prim woke to footsteps. She opened her eyes and the glare of morning sun blinded her, though not before she saw Marvel walking away.

She scrambled to her feet, groggy. Every movement shot aches through her body. "M-Marvel…where are you going?"

He didn't stop. Didn't even seem to hear her. She slung her pack over her shoulder and scrambled after him, finally catching up. My, his pace was fast!

"Where are you going?" Was he really trying to leave her?

"I'm going to get a spear."

Her shock stuck in her throat. "A-At the cornucopia?" No response, just more walking. She reached forward and grabbed his arm. "Marvel?"

He yanked his arm out of her grip. "Don't talk to me! Just leave!"

This could be her chance. No one would blame her for walking away. He didn't want her here. She couldn't even blame herself. You could only pursue a person so much before they rejected love or affection or…family.

But wasn't that the definition of family? Love? Perseverance? Not giving up, no matter how much hate the other person conveyed.

"I'm not leaving you, Marvel." Her voice was calm and soft. In speaking that way, the calmness drifted into her heart, too. It's like someone—God, maybe—orchestrated this perfectly. Peeta would probably find Rue first. This way he was free of his obligation to protect Prim and instead he could protect and take care of Rue.

That left Prim to stay with Marvel. Of everyone in her tribute family, he needed help the most.

Even if he wouldn't admit it.

"I'm coming with you."

He slapped aside a bush branch. "Then you'll die."

The words didn't bother her, not in the slightest. "Okay."

They walked for an hour before the growls of their stomachs became too loud to travel safely. Without being asked, Prim went in search for berries, nuts, and plants. She kept her ears attentive to Marvel's movements, though, because she'd hate to lose him. He wouldn't come find her if they got separated. It was up to her to stick with him. He couldn't even forage on his own.

He'd starve without her.

This thought, at least, made her feel purposeful and less like a burden.

Prim reached a berry bush and picked for only a couple minutes, but it was spares. Too sparse. Almost like someone had stripped this one already. It could be a bear, but the bears ate leaves and all in their attempts to get to the sweet fruits.

It had to be a tribute.

The strand of long hair resting among the middle of the bush, snagged in a small thorn, confirmed it. With a trembling hand, Prim picked it up and held it to the light.

Red. Long. Female.

Both Prim's and Marvel's hair was blond. How old was this strand of hair? Was Prim's hungry friend back? Following them, maybe?

Just in case, after Prim had finished gathering what she could, she left a small pile of nuts, berries, mint, and edible roots in the shape of a heart. She liked having this secret—a secret communication with another tribute. No one else knew…well, no one else except the entire world watching on TV. But for some reason, they didn't feel real. Prim never felt watched. She couldn't imagine herself being interesting enough to garner screen time. She wasn't doing the Games the way the Capitol wanted tributes to.

It took her ten whole minutes to find Marvel again. She became a true tracker, watching for footprints and following them. Stopping to listen for noise until she finally found him, traveling slowly, through the woods.

"Here's some food." She stepped up behind him.

He startled and whipped out his dagger. "Oh. It's you."

So he had meant to leave her. "Aren't you hungry?"

In response, he held out his hand. "Sure."

She filled it with the goods and munched on some herself. It didn't feel like enough. Her stomach would never be satisfied. Part of her spared a thought for the small pile of food she'd left behind for the other tribute. Hopefully it wasn't wasted.

"Now leave me alone."

"I told you I was coming with—"

He pushed her shoulder. "I don't need you! I don't want you with. You put me in danger, don't you get it?"

She opened and closed her mouth twice. "H-How do I do that?" Wasn't she helping gather food? Didn't she save his life? Tend his wound?

He rounded on her. "I can't go back to Cato's camp with you hanging around."

Instead of fear, her heart melted into a glimmer of joy. He feared for her? He feared that Cato would kill her? He did care. "I'm not afraid of Cato."

Easy to say now, but would she feel the same when she faced the machete-wielding muscled tribute by the end of the day?

"I don't care how you feel. I can't go in there if you're acting like my pet. They'll wonder why I didn't kill you. No one in their right mind would team up with you. They won't trust me. They're my last hope at this—they don't know how I screwed up. So leave me alone and give me a chance at survival, would you?"

Prim was wrong. Marvel didn't care. He cared only about being accepted by the other Careers. Killers. He still wanted to be a killer. "What if they don't trust you anyway, Marvel? What if they just kill you? We're too deep in the Games now for them to care much about teaming up."

"I'll take that chance."

"But why?" Desperation coursed through her. "Why take that chance? Peeta has your old spear. We can find him – he won't kill you. Then you'll have your spear and—"

"And then what?" His shout bounced from tree to tree, like a gong. How close were they to Cato's group? Would Marvel be heard? "Then what? I just tromp around with you and your little group? Your little family?" He sneered. "I'm not the family type."

"But what about Glimmer? She's from your district. Don't you care about her at all?"

"I'm not the caring type." He sounded less confident this time. He jerked the hem of his coat to straighten it, but Prim caught him wincing and rolling his wounded shoulder.

"May I…check your shoulder bandage?" She inwardly cringed, waiting for his outburst.

Instead, he paused in his walking and stared into the distant trees. Thinking? "Yeah. That'd be good." His voice sounded strange. Kind. Too kind. Fake. "I think it needs to be changed, actually."

He turned to her and Prim took a step back. Why did her body react like that? Marvel's face seemed normal—harsh and emotionless. So what had happened to his voice? Still, if he was asking her to change his bandage, she'd happily comply. She dropped her pack to the ground, opened it and rummaged inside for one of the cleaned bandages.

That's when something slammed against the back of her head and she blacked out.

.

.

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.