The Hunger Games - Peeta's POV

Chapter Twenty-Four - There Are Always Mutts In The End

The stew, rice, and rolls are finished by the next day. We had an uneventful sleep, and so we were starting to get worried. Will the Gamemakers deem this too boring? Will they force us into the Cornucopia? I think back to the years when they used sadistic means to bring us together. The year where they released toxic air, saying it can only be treated by masks that would be found at the Cornucopia. Wild mutts, that chase us back to the centre. My mother told me a story passed down from her grandmother, a truly terrifying year. Apparently, they released ultrasonic waves. The audience described it as seeing "their brains pouring out of their ears.". With me barely able to walk, leaving Katniss the only defender, a trip to the Cornucopia would end badly.

Katniss goes out to fill up our water skins, but comes back with the bottle bone dry.

"There's no water in the stream." She says simply. So they starve us of water. Is there still food?

"Why don't we check the smaller ponds?" I suggest. We spend the next few hours rounding past the springs. To no-one's surprise, they are all empty, not even any residue left.

"They want us by the lake." Says Katniss, just as in coming to the conclusion myself. "Should we go now, or wait until our skins are empty?"

"Now. Might as well get this thing over with." Who else is alive? Cato, and Thresh? Are they the only ones?

A lot of the day is spent trekking back to the Cornucopia, diminishing our water supply until we each have a few sips left. We reach the trees in which I hid during the bloodbath, and I can see that the area is empty of tributes. Katniss spots a groosling, which she takes down in one arrow. She proceeds to collect the meat, but I stop her.

"What if Cato comes. Or Thresh." I say, knowing that any attack would probably kill me and injure Katniss.

"We are going to the lake, right?" I nod my head. "Well, if he sees that we are okay being out in the open, that means you're fully healed and lethal, right?" I am neither. "He's not going to attack a team of two that look as confident as us." She does have a fair point, so I follow her when she steps out into the sunlight.

Groosling tastes like chicken as usual, and the water from the lake makes my mouth content and head free of aches. Katniss is cleaning all her arrows, and I am washing my hands in the water, when the canon is fired. Instinctively, we both spin our heads to the other, make sure we're okay. When we are sure we are, we speculate who died. Cato, or Thresh? I don't know who I want dead. Cato, merciless and an easy killer, or Thresh? Strong and powerful. The sun sets quickly - faster than ever, and night is dawned upon us. The sky only holds Thresh's face tonight. Am I relieved? Relieved we didn't have to kill him? Or scared that we will have to face Cato? At the thought of his name, a deep, fragile scream emanates from the nearby forest. Out darts Cato, running on high speed towards us. Katniss grabs her bow and sheath, and I poise my knife, ready to blow. This is it. This is where we die or become victors. As Cato nears us, Katniss fires an arrow at him. It hits him on the head, but flings off. He remains unchanged. He runs straight past Katniss' shoulder, completely ignoring her. We exchange glances, confused. Is he running away from something? Then the mitts appear. Ugly, wolffish, mutts. Around 20 of them. We both turn on our heals, running for the Cornucopia. Katniss sprints ahead, and I run as fast as I can on a leg that is still healing. I die here. Die by mutts. These horrid, bloodthirsty mutts. Of course. Because there are always mutts in the end. I want to call Katniss, plead her to come back and help me. But my mission from the start has been to save her, save her from the Capitol Games. She reaches the Cornucopia, and stops. She doesn't climb it, like Cato does, but runs back to help me. No. Go back! Go back! Kill Cato and survive. Oh god, please survive. I can't say this, though. I am too out of breath, too tired to do anything. She pulls me in her shoulder, and drags me towards the horn. The best I can do to help is not resist. I can hear the mutts on our tails, nearing with every second that passes. She can't die here. Not like this. Any way but this. I imagine the teeth of the mutts sinking into her flesh, warm blood seeping through her clothes. No. No. I repeat the words, like a chant. No. No. It's all I can do. All I can do. No. No. What am I saying no to? What is there left to say?

The Cornucopia is still hot, after hours of roasting in the sun. The next minute is nothing but a blur. Punches are thrown, arrows are fired, mutts are howling. No. No. No. No. I am not aware of anything that happens, just the feeling. Of pain from my legs - one with a deep gash, the other with a gaping hole from the mutts. It still bleeds. Everything bleeds. Cato holds me in a headlock, his arm around my neck. Cato bleeds.

"Go ahead." He says, blood seeping through his mouth. "It's not like I was going to win anyway. I was never going to win." He laughs, deranged. "Shoot me, knock me back into the mutts. But I will take Peeta with me." No. No.

"Or I could do it. One last kill. And then you can shoot me." Asphyxiation takes me to my house in the Merchant section. My mother, who hit me with the baking tray. I covered my head with my arms, curled up into a ball. But hitting me was never enough. She wanted the scars to last. She smacked the tray onto my elbow, causing my hands to fall from my head, before she slapped me on the cheek. Cato strengthens his grip, waiting for Katniss to make her decision. No. I take my shaky hands, and bring them up to the one that holds me firmly in Cato's deadly hold. An x is what I make, and I think Katniss understands. She takes one of the two remaining arrows in her sheath, and aims it at Cato's hand. Cato realises this one second after Katniss, as she releases the arrow, and sends it flying. It indeed hits his hand, and loosens me from his grasp. I twist away, and kick him at his knee. He stumbles away, off from the Cornucopia. We hear a crack, but the screams never stop.

"It's the body armour. It'll take longer to eat him." I collapse to the ground, the demons forcing my eyes shut. I want to sleep. Only for a little while. And then I'll wake up. I promise... The night is too long. The air is too cold. Cato's screams too loud. Katniss uses her remaining arrow and twists fabric into it. It slows the bleeding, but not enough. She rips off her jacket and wraps it around me, and I don't object. The nights cold bites into our skin, and we are both left shivering. I am so tired, so very very tired. I want to do nothing but sleep. Katniss doesn't allow it, though, and keeps me awake. Is she scared I might not wake up? Cato doesn't stop, and the sound of mutts basing away at him is unbearable.

"Should I finish him off?" I pull out the arrow from her makeshift tourniquet, and hand it to her.

"Make it count." I say, as loudly as I can. The bleeding starts. It convulses on the cold Cornucopia, soaks up all the dirt there. The canon fires, and I know Cato is dead. Katniss rushes back, and ties the arrow back into my leg. And wait. For what? Wait - we won.