The night has brought with it not only more rain but also quite the chill. Gale and I have been huddled in our little tent for hours. I can feel the cool water running beneath us. We're both soaked through, and I'm trying hard not to shiver.
"You're cold." Gale sounds concerned.
"No," I retort, but he knows I'm lying.
"Katniss…" I can't see Gale's face in the dark very well, but I don't have to. I know him well enough to know the exact look he has on his face.
"I'm not cold," I insist.
"You're shivering."
"I'm just antsy. You know I don't do well all cooped up."
"Please," he scoffs. It's clear I haven't fooled him. He stretched out one of his long arms and pulls me close to him. "Here," he says, as he rubs his hands up and down my arms.
I try not to think about how close our bodies are. Or how little clothes we have on. Or how warm and nice and strong Gale feels. I try to shove all these thoughts out of my head and I tell myself I shouldn't think of my best friend this way.
"How do you think our families are doing?" I don't know where this thought came from.
"I think they are okay."
"Really?" I've tried my hardest not to think about them over the past few weeks.
"Don't worry," Gale says as he soothingly rubs my back. "Haymitch promised he'd look after them, and it'd be too suspicious if something happened. Haymitch's probably even told them the truth by now. I'm sure they're all fine."
"Even Peeta?" I can feel Gale's body tense as I ask this question. But his voice doesn't betray whatever feelings are at work inside him.
"Even Peeta," he reassures me with a soft smile. I lean into his body, seeking comfort and warmth, and before I realize, I've fallen asleep.
Gale was right about the food. It poured for two days straight. We woke up on the third morning, cold, hungry, damp, and grumpy, and it wasn't until we were half way through our little breakfast (one cracker, half a piece of dried jerky each, and an entire bottle of water) that we notice it isn't raining.
"Do you hear that?" I ask Gale.
"No, what?"
"My point exactly." Gale meets my eyes and we understood each other perfectly. In one, fluid movement, he jumps over me and is outside the tent in a second.
"Thank God," he cries, just as jubilantly as he had when it started raining, "I'm so glad to be out of that damn tent!" And he runs around again, stretching and celebrating like a big kid.
We pull our clothes from the tree. They are still a bit damp, but we've no choice but to put them on. We drink as much water as we can hold before filling all of our bottles entirely the rest of the water Gale collected. I help him fold the blanket and pack up the camp, but everything is a mess. It's no use trying to wash off the mud, but we try for several minutes before giving up and bundling everything into Gale's pack and resume our hike. We've still got about three days until we're expected to hit the next safe house, and while I'm thankful to be well hydrated, I'm not looking forward to walking through all this mud. But we've no choice. We pull on our soggy shoes and squish forward, no longer tormented by our thirst, but instead the humidity, the heat, the increasing number of bugs, and above all, the mud.
For two more full days, we traipse through the wet earth. I am beginning to think on the third morning that I'd never know how it felt to be clean again, when the map machine tells us we are close to the next safe house.
YOU ARE READING
Into the Woods
Fanfiction"We could do it, you know." "What?" "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it." After Katniss returns from the Hunger Games, she must confront the consequences of her actions, and when its obvious she's failed...
