Hurricane • F. Odair

twenty-four » crow on a wire

A L T H E A

   Gloss' smile froze on his face as an arrow sank into his temple. Althea felt bile rise in her throat as he fell backward into the water. She'd been dreaming of his death for far too many years, often praying she'd be the one to do it. As the canon boomed, she had enough time to choke back the rising vomit and slam a spear out of its course for Peeta. A grunt that she knew to be Finnick sounded off, followed by a second boom. Panic swelled in Althea's chest, but she couldn't turn to look as she chased after Brutus. Katniss was in front of her, leading the chase. Feet pounded behind her on the rocks.

   The rocky ground beneath her jerked violently. Already dizzy, Althea slammed into its surface. The clock underneath her began to spin. Jungle passed her vision in a blur. Force pulled the woman toward the water and rocks but she stabbed her sword into a crevice and held on tight. Althea clamped her mouth shut, holding her breath. She felt weakness in her chest and was lightheaded, but she held on with all of her strength.

   The water would not claim her again.

   When the roaring water and spinning quit, Althea stayed still for a moment, trying desperately to catch her breath. Hands hooked under her arms and pulled. She collapsed into Finnick's chest.

   "Easy, angelfish. Are you okay?" He asked, checking her over for injuries.

   She didn't want the others to hear. "Something feels wrong, Finn. I don't feel well," she whispered to him.

   He checked her over again, pressing a hand to her forehead. Frowning, he took her wrist and pressed two fingers to the inside. He counted under his breath, occasionally looking at her. "Your heart rate is really slow."

   "That would make sense." She leaned away from him at the sight of Johanna and Peeta frantically looking for something.

   "Where's Volts?" Johanna called.

   "Go," Althea ordered, pushing Finnick's chest. He started to protest, but she pushed again. "If he's in the water, you're his best bet. Go."

   With a reluctant glance, he left her. He dove into the water with the effortlessness of a sea god. Katniss said something, but Althea's head was still swimming. She sat down and placed her head between her knees. Peeta patted her back gently.

   "You don't look too good," he said. "Is there anything I can do?"

    "Thanks, kid," she quipped sarcastically. Then more gently, "No, thank you. Just need to breathe for a second."

   Katniss returned with the coil, looking more traumatized and upset than when she dove into the water. Finnick pulled a waterlogged but alive Beetee to shore. Katniss handed the remaining victor from three his precious wire. Finnick limped to Althea's side.

   "Angelfish," he murmured.

   "Yeah?"

    "What can I do?" It was such a pitifully desperate question. He had always wanted to make things easier for her, to help her.

   She looked at him. Squinting in the sun, she jerked her chin to his thigh where he sported a knife wound. "Take care of that. We only have room for one amputee here."

   Peeta scoffed a dry laugh. His fiance crossed the island and wrapped her arms around him. Katniss held him tightly. Perhaps she was imagining holding him forever and keeping him safe. The eldest victor turned her head to look at Finnick again. He'd unzipped his wetsuit and taken off his undershirt. He tied it tightly around his thigh, but not tight enough to be a tourniquet. Once finished, he cupped her face and just gazed at her. Memorizing her freckles, the scar on her brow, the state of her eyelashes, and the chapped skin of her lips.