𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 | cato hadley | thg

--- CHAPTER TWENTY

Curtis took a hard hit that day, but it wasn't the hit itself that almost did him in. He clutched at his chest, his right hand tense over his heart. He could barely stutter out a world, let alone call for help. Shay was there, but she was only still learning the ropes. She had no idea how to handle a situation like this. But, luckily, her trainer had. Kraven was quick to action. He ordered her to hurry back to the ranch and get Ruben and a cart.

She took off on the back of Stella, right to the stables where Ruben was tending to the horses. She told him what happened and with his help, they returned to where she left Curtis and Kraven.

Because of Kraven's quick thinking that day, Curtis lived through his heart attack, even in an area so isolated. But, Curtis came out of his near-death experience with a story for everyone to hear.

"At first, there was only darkness," he told the waiting four. Beck, Dani, Shay, and Kraven volunteered to look out for the man as he recovered at the ranch, unable to be moved so soon after his scare. "But, after—oh, I don't even know how long, it was hard to tell," he laughed. "After a while, there was this beautiful, golden, light waiting for me. It was tempting, sure. To venture into that unknown, but I knew you would all miss me too much." The four waiting teenagers laughed at his remark, Kraven brushing them off as Curtis being dramatic as usual. His wife Flora always claimed he had a flair for theatrics and boy, he didn't disappoint.

As Shay lay dying though, she waited for the darkness that Curtis explained, and it came.

Surely, the light was to follow. The alluring, golden light that would lead her into the great unknown. But, there was nothing.

Death... it didn't even feel like death. She had plenty of time to think about it over the last couple of weeks and she expected more. She expected a consuming, palpable darkness. An abyss so wide and vacuous yet somehow equally claustrophobic and suffocating. But, she got none of that.

No. It was only hollow.

Empty.

It left plenty to be desired.

The darkness continued and a lingering feeling of fear settled in the pit of her stomach. What if the light never came? What if she wasn't deserving enough for it? After all the horror she contributed to, she wouldn't be surprised. The blood on her hands was equal to what escaped her body as she took her last breaths—plentiful.

She existed in that vacuum of time, simply waiting. It was all that she could do.

***

The night before the reapings of the 71st Hunger Games, Kraven and Shay sat outside on their front porch, recovering from the antics at the Rapture party. Each of them had a fair amount of moonshine running through their veins as they laughed about this and that, trying to stay quiet and not wake their sleeping sister.

"Promise me after the Reaping tomorrow, you'll shave," she tried to remain serious because she was, but a giggle slipped out anyway. "I don't know who said that was a good idea, but it wasn't" she teased, pointing to the facial hair on his upper lip.

He laughed. "The 'stache is a look," he insisted. Shay shook her head. Whatever it was, it couldn't even be dignified as a mustache.

"It is not a look. Not even close," she said, pulling the ribbon from her golden locks and unraveling her braid. "I could grow a better mustache than that."

"Oh, I have no doubt."

She reached over and smacked him playfully on the arm. "Dick."

Together, they let the silence envelop them, the only light being that which was cast down by the stars and full moon. As the minutes passed, a slight breeze shook Shay from her reverie.