28

Hammers. Hammers in her head. Miners hammers, drowning out all sound. Blackness.

Prim groaned.

Even that sent a course of agony through her skull. Light filtered through her sore, thin eyelids. Blink. Ouch. Blink blink. Trees. Blink.

A face.

Prim shot to a sitting position, but fell back almost immediately, dizzy. Her head hit the ground and she yelped. Her fingers reached to the back of her head and felt a lump larger than one of her slingshot pebbles. Then, as if remembering why she startled, she forced her eyes open all the way. Whoever had been hovering over her had scrambled away like a skittish kitten.

Prim's eyes finally focused on the crouched form ready to spring—or flee.

A girl. The girl tribute from District 5. What was her name again? She had red hair, a pointed nose, and freckles. She looked like a little fox—a startled, scared, timid fox. A familiar feeling rose in Prim—the type she got when she found a stray animal to bring home, like a baby squirrel or abandoned bird.

She'd never had this feeling toward a person before, especially not a person who was clearly two or three years older than her. But the little fox girl didn't flee. Didn't move.

"Hi," Prim croaked. She wasn't afraid, just like she was never afraid when she found Buttercup yowling in the rain as a kitten.

The little fox girl said nothing. She just stared. Prim rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the headache. Marvel. Marvel hit her and left her. He left her.

She shouldn't be surprised.

She glanced around just to make sure. "He's gone, isn't he?"

The little fox girl nodded.

"What's your name? You're from District 5, right?"

Fox girl glanced around, looked at the ground, then snapped her side round eyes back up to Prim's face. "Vixennette." Her voice was a whisper, barely a whisper—as though she opened her mouth and the wind brought the name to Prim's ears.

Vixennette. Perfect. The perfect name for the little fox girl. Prim grinned. "You've been following me, haven't you?"

Vixennette nodded again and touched her fingers to her lips, then rotated her palm down. A form of sign language, but what did the sign mean? Was that another way of saying yes?

"Thank you," Vixennette whispered again, repeating the sign.

"For what?" Prim rotated her neck, rubbing the bulge on the back of her head as she did.

Vixennette pinched the fingers of one hand together and tapped them three times against her lips. Prim didn't need to know sign language to know that she was referring to eating. To food.

"Why didn't you come out sooner? You knew I wouldn't hurt you."

Vixennette's eyes darted away from Prim and focused on the forest—the direction Marvel and Prim had been traveling. Prim didn't blame her—Marvel was intimidating, and Prim couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't have killed Vixennette on the spot.

"How long was I out?"

Vixennette held up one finger. One day. One day? Marvel had hit her hard. Was she missing brain cells? Memories? How would she know?

"Did anyone…die?"

Vixennette held up three fingers.

Prim covered her mouth. "Three tributes?" Rue and Peeta. She just knew it. It had to be—

Vixennette shook her head. "The boy from three."

Breath whooshed out of Prim, though she felt guilty at her relief. Ten tributes left. She didn't know she'd been mentally keeping track. Just to double check her memory, she went through the list of surviving tributes:

District 1: Glimmer and - swallow - Marvel. Her Marvel.

District 2: Cato and Clove

District 3: Dead

District 4: Dead

District 5: Vixennette

Districts 6, 7, 8, and 9: Dead

District 10: the male tribute

District 11: Rue and Thresh

District 12: her and Peeta

What was Prim's plan of action now? Marvel was a whole day ahead of her—he was probably already at the cornucopia with Cato and Clove and the rest of the group. He'd said they had a camp there. At least Prim had that information now. Since he hadn't died, Prim could assume that Cato took Marvel back.

If she went after him, there was no way he'd rejoin her. Besides, then Vixennette would leave—she didn't trust Marvel. That left Prim with only one option. "I'd like to find Peeta and Rue, if that's okay. Want to join me?"

Vixennette nodded. "I know where they are. Peeta is hurt."

"Hurt? How? Who?"

"Fire." Vixennette stood up, lithe and long-limbed. On her back was a draw-string bag covered in a sheet of plastic. It bulged out against her back, filled to the brim with something round. Blood marred one half of the cloth bag.

Had Vixennette killed someone to get this?

In blind trust, Prim followed her into the forest. She didn't make a single sound as she traveled—even Katniss would be impressed by her stealth. Prim followed, self-conscious about every step and noise she made. Vixennette didn't seem to mind, or at least she didn't say anything. Besides, she'd been following Prim for days, she knew Prim's weaknesses.

She knew…Prim's weaknesses.

Prim chewed on the thought and a needle of doubt—fear, mistrust—slipped into her brain. Foxface was sly. Mysterious. Stealthy. Perhaps she knew more than just Prim's physical weaknesses. Maybe…maybe she revealed herself to Prim because she knew Prim's internal weakness for trusting people. For saving people. For…not killing.

The questions ate away at Prim and she hated them. Why now? Why did she suddenly suspect Vixennette? Prim knew how to read people, but in this case she had no confidence. Was it from the concussion that Marvel gave her? Did that steal away her trust? Her intuition?

Or was Vixenette simply…not trustworthy?

She said she knew where Peeta and Rue were, but she could be taking Prim anywhere. This could all be part of her plan.

.

.

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.