28. Frenzy

I am frozen, but aware. Peeta is staring at me and I know that our thoughts are the same. What could possibly cause the scream of that many people? And I know, in this moment that I don't want to find out. I want to stay here on this balcony and let whatever horrors are happening below us pass. Can we? I want to plead, Can we just stay here, Peeta? Please? And I am vaguely aware of my body shaking. But, before my thoughts can take any form aside from panic, Peeta is gripping my hand and whipping us through the wooden door straight toward the madness.

We hit and then lean over the railing and I am searching for any sign of what has happened. The only clue is that everyone, the entire swarm of people, is moving in a swift frenzy racing for the stairs trying to escape. Peeta and I look at each other. I see in his eyes the same fear that I feel. "What are they doing?" I ask. "They are running from something." Peeta says, his eyes searching the ground for the source. "But what?" I say, "What could they possibly be-"and I stop short when I recall that the 6,378 milling up the stairs and racing out the doors are total strangers, but there are 4 people here who we know. Who we love.

"Peeta?! We've got to find Haymitch…and Johanna…and" I start to say Gale but his name is swallowed up in my sudden gripping fear

"And Gale and Mother Everdeen." Peeta finishes, referring to my mother in the familiar fashion that he has since last year, with all the pretending and the engagement, and the interviews. I nod and together we head for the stairs. At least 300 people have made it out the door but we are still swallowed almost immediately by the wave that continues brutishly up the staircase. More than once I feel Peeta's hand slipping from mine and I stop to grip him tighter as we fight against the human current to stay together. I am in front of him by only a few steps. We both yell out at intervals asking what has happened, but everyone ignores us, instead opting to shove past and escape. Finally, after a few minutes of battle to make it down just five steps I hear Peeta yelling, "Katniss? Go to the floor and see who you can find! I'll head up to the balcony and try to find Plutarch, Effie and Haymitch!" I want to yell no. Tell him to hold my hand and not leave my sight, so afraid that I will lose him in the swarm of people. Before I can protest, however, he is releasing my hand and immediately pulled away up the stairs.

I stare after him for only a moment, his blonde hair melting into the flourish of people as he allows himself to be pushed. After that, I refocus and know that I must try and find them. Quickly. Alright, I think determinedly and hitching my skirt up past my knees, the way Effie always tried to train me out of, I begin barreling down the stairs pushing into people in the same rude manner in which they push into me. Peeta was right, because trying to hold onto his hand made this much harder, I note as I viciously shove past at least 50 girls in dresses as big as my own. As scared as they are they are still slaves to their ladylike behavior as I am the sole skirt-hitcher. It's easy to tell that they think I am crazy, as even running for their lives a few of them take the time to gape at me in shock and disgust. Whatever.

When I finally reach the bottom of the stairs, my head is whipping around frantically and my eyes search endlessly for Johanna. For Gale. My mother, who I am so used to not being involved in a melee like this that I shamefully keep forgetting her. I am screaming their names but there is no answer and I note that although there seem to be more people on the stairs now than remain here on the floor, they still form a wall of distraction.

I rush around at the front of the room being pushed abrasively with each step I take because I am moving against the flurry of people trying to escape, but I can feel the familiar adrenaline rushing through my veins as my eyes search for familiar shapes, colors, faces. I am almost done. Close to giving up and thinking that they must have all escaped, when I see it.

A few yards ahead of me, there on the ground between the legs of a few men who are still rushing toward me is a blur of naked skin, glistening diamonds, and dripping red blood.

Johanna.

I rush forward, pushing some of the men who try to force past me and scream her name over and over "Johanna! Johanna! Johanna!" I lunge forward and fall to my knees beside her body and see with growing dread that she is bleeding from a slit throat, the blood soaking into the fabric around her chest, her neck, and the hands that are pressed against her neck trying, futilely to stop the blood. I look up and see that they belong to Gale, whose face is going blue as he presses down forcefully.

"Gale?! Gale, what happened?!" I ask shakily and I instinctively yank the handkerchief from his pocket, trying to press it against her neck but Gale won't move his hands, as he says shuddering "K-K-Katniss…there's so much…So much blood. T-too much blood." I know this, and Johanna's eyes flit about in terror, her face quickly going pale as she gurgles for air that won't come. What do I do? What do I do? I can't just sit here and watch her die! Think Katniss, think. The blood, so much blood…I try to remember. I have seen blood many times before so why can't I remember anything to do? And suddenly, as her name is coming to me, I am opening up my mouth and screaming it as loud as I can

"Mother?! Mother, Help!"