Peeta's Story- The Hunger Games

Chapter 27

THANKS FOR THE FEEDBACK LAST CHAPTER<3

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Through the tall weeds, over the bushes, I jump, run, and scamper. I fall flat on my face multiple times; my already injured hands are bloody again. My arm is weak and useless where the girl's knife punctured it and I know it will be infected soon, but my sole interest is to put as much space between me and the two tributes as possible. The girl set me up, tricking me into thinking she wanted to ally with me, then walking me into a death trap. The wind whistles through my ears as I look around for a sign of trees in which I can hide. I know the brush around the forest isn't big, but the Gamemakers have probably purposely extended it for the enjoyment of the spectators. Behind me, I hear the girl call out in her low, silvery voice. "Wait!"

I don't stop and I continue sprinting, but my time is almost up. I hear footsteps getting closer and bury myself between two tall stalks of weeds. Within seconds, the plants are pried apart to reveal my cowering figure and the tall boy glances down at me. I dig through my bag, hoping against hope that there is a weapon inside, but fate is not on my side. It never is.

To my surprise, the boy reaches out his hand and grabs my arm, pulling me to his feet. His voice is gravelly when he speaks. "I'm sorry to scare you," he says, "Clove here says she wants to ally with you." He gestures to the girl, who catches my eye and looks away. "I'm Cato," he says. "Here, let's go find the rest of our group."

He walks ahead of us surely, obviously not afraid that I will try to kill him. On the other hand, Cato is still overly cautious, her eyes darting up and down my figure every few seconds. She matches my pace evenly and strides alongside me. Slowly, the brush makes way for the trees, which get denser and denser.

The sun is setting now and I am thirsty and tired, dragging my feet on the ground. The light casts gloomy shadows around the dirt path and a bird flaps its wings in a tree, startling me. Cato turns around, a bit annoyed. "Can you not make that much noise?" he snaps. "The others will find us that way."

I groan and try to walk more quietly until he comes over and pats the rock next to him. Clove stands a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring daggers at the trees. I sit down next to Cato; for now, I am going to trust him. He rolls my pants up and examines the damage, wincing at the sizable purple bruise on my knee. It is about the size of my fist and it is turning a deeper and deeper color by the moment. He sighs and pats it, making me wince. "Nothing I can do about that, sorry," he announces in his deep voice. Clove looks over, annoyed, and shushes him.

He whispers for me to give my bag to him and I relinquish it gratefully, not realizing the full weight of it until it is taken off my shoulders. Everything in it seems to be useless, but he places them gingerly on the ground in a neat little pile. Ripping a section of white cloth off what seems to be a parka, he takes my injured arm and wraps it tightly, accidentally reopening the wound. I watch in fascination as my makeshift bandage becomes stained with all the blood flowing out. My head feels a bit dizzy and I yawn.

We get up again and make our way deeper into the forest, slower this time. Cato and Clove seem to be looking for something, their eyes darting around the trees. A sudden movement to our left stops us and Clove flings a knife at the spot without a moment's hesitation. I shudder as I realize the thing she has hit could have been me had I not joined them. It lets out a pitiful moan and we advance towards it slowly. It turns out to be not a tribute, but a deer. I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I have been holding and silently thank no one in particular that another tribute has not been hurt. I know that they are all my enemies, but I'd rather not have their death on my conscience.

We hear stomping a bit further down the path and turn around in alarm. Clove's arm is poised above her shoulder, ready to launch a knife at whoever is coming at us. Before she can do anything, however, Cato grasps her wrist and tells her to stop. She whirls around, about to stab him, but he ducks as quickly as lightening. "What was that for?" she shrieks, her voice echoing shrilly amidst the thicket. I anxiously tell her to be quiet, scared that she might try to kill me, too.