The Story Of Cato And Clove

Chapter 2: Clove

The train lets out a sharp whistle that pierces the scorching afternoon air.

The gloved hands of peacekeepers squeeze my arms so I am rigid as a board, escorting me to the train, ensuring I don't run away.

I scoff. Why would I try to escape when I voulunteered for the Games in the first place? Why would I try to run when I have been training mercilessly all my life? Why would I try to slip out of their grasp when I am headed to the richest place in all of Panem? Why would I try, when I am going to win anyway?

Except...

I'd had a plan. I was going to see the Capitol, enter the Games, win said Games, and return home to thousands cheering on my either side. But now- now Cato's gone and screwed it all up. I can't lose, but I can't let him die.

Why would he do this?

A storm of angry thoughts swirl above my head and I almost don't notice when another squad of Peacekeepers comes trooping up to our side. Behind the white uniforms, I see a flash of perfect blonde hair. Cato, then? My expression darkens further at his proximity.

Suddenly the Peacekeepers surrounding us both fall back, and Cato is revealed. He shoots me an apologetic smile, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He knows me too well- right now, that's infuriating.

We step onto the train. I almost gasp at how extravagant it all is. Smooth polished floorboards stretch along the length of the compartment, with cosy red - and orange rugs. The walls are decorated with abstract paintings and  photos. A mahogany table is situated right in the middle of the room, with pots and kettles of steaming hot liquids on it. My gaze shifts to its occupants.

Estrella is perched daintily on the edge of a soft cushioned seat. Across from her sit a lady and a man I vaguely recognize. The woman smiles at us, revealing blindingly white teeth, filed into points and tipped with gold.

The pieces click into place. These are Enobaria and Brutus, two of District Two's past Victors. I can't recall how Brutus won his Games, but I remember all too well how Enobaria, in the lack of weaponry, ripped out a compeditors throat with nothing but her teeth.

When she returned to the Capitol, she had them surgically altered so no - one could ever forget.
Disgusting, yes. But in some twisted way, I admire her.

For making sure she is always remembered.

~*~

Estrella jumps to her feet and rushes to us, the tributes of District Two.

"Oh, darlings!" She gushes. "So nice to finally meet our brave pair of volunteers!"

Cato smiles, though forcefully. I follow suite. I offer my hand for her to shake, but she ignores it and envelopes me in a tight hug. I stiffen but tolerate it.

Cato catches my eye and bites back a smirk. I roll my eyes at him, but I can feel my cheeks heating happily.

Estrella finally pulls back and goes in for Cato. I laugh inwardly at his utterly bemused expression, at the way his hands fly up into the air, unsure, before he awkwardly pats her on the back.

After both random hugs are over, Brutus grins at us and pats the seats next to him. We obediently take a seat, and, still grinning, he pours a thick brown liquid into two mugs, sliding them across the table to us. I take a tentative sniff. It smells like sugar and cinnamon and warm summer days. It smells like heaven.