One Lucky Winner

Chapter 84 ~ Thomas

Day 9
9:58 AM

"Wake up," Katniss says, shaking me. I leave sleep and slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes. Then I open them and look at her. Her eyes are red. She was probably sobbing again. Peeta died yesterday.

"It's late," she says to me. I blink and look down, very confused for some reason.

I don't feel good at all. My entire body has a dull ache to it. I have a throbbing headache, one of those headaches that make your head feel like it's exploding whenever your heart beats. All of my skin hurts; it seems like it hurts most under the skin, not on. My face feels hot, as if I have a bad fever. But most of all, the burn from Tony and the bug bite are stinging like crazy.

"I don't feel good," I tell Katniss, feeling like a little kid telling his mom.

"None of us do," she says without looking at me, digging through one of Peeta's bags.

"I'm serious-" A cannon interrupts me. We both look up and see the one person we hoped it would be: Tony Stark.

Katniss gasps. "Tony's dead?"

"Thank goodness," I say. We both stare up at the picture of him. Then I watch the shucking person who murdered Newt leave the sky.

"It was either Bilbo or Tris who did it," she says, still looking up even though Tony already disappeared. She looks at me. "It's them and us. That's all who's left."

I nod. She turns away and continues to rummage through a few bags.

"I really don't feel good," I say, bringing the conversation back to me.

I thought she would give me another sarcastic response like she did before, but she looks at me instead, confused. "How so?"

I shake my head. "I'm having aches, and I just...don't feel good." My voice is awful. It sounds like I smoke three packs a day.

She comes over to me. "You do look strange." Before I have time to respond, she places the back of her hand on my forehead. Her hand is cold.

"Oh my God," I hear her mumble.

"What?"

"You're burning up."

"Huh?"

"Your temperature feels unhealthy," she says, panic in her eyes. She goes over to the bags and starts ransacking them.

"Unhealthy?"

She ignores me and continues rummaging through the bags. The finally pulls out a huge first aid kit. She opens it and takes out a small package of something. She reads the package and then rips it open with her teeth.

"Here," she says, giving me the open package. I take it and look at the label. Ibuprofen.

"Take these," she says, handing me a water bottle.

I'm just about to when she stops me. "Wait. You can't take them on an empty stomach." She crawls over to the bags. My stomach churns at the thought of food.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're gonna have to eat."

"I can't."

She returns with an open package of trail mix, about half full. "You need to take those pills because if your fever gets any higher, your brain cells will start dissolving. If you take them without anything in your stomach it'll make you feel even worse then you already do. Now eat." She gives me the trail mix.