The 150th Annual Hunger Games

Day Ten (Afternoon)

Harper Coyle's P.O.V. (D4)

I silently peek around the corner of a building to scan the street for tributes. I wave to Janice as a signal that everything is clear, then walk out onto the street. I make sure that we walk closer to the houses, that way if somebody shows up, we can just duck into one of them at a moments notice.

"Where are we going, anyways, Harper?" Janice asks from behind me.

"Not anywhere in particular," I reply, glancing over my shoulder at her, "I just want to keep on the move, just in case somebody is tracking us. That is, unless you have an idea of where to go?"

She shakes her head and keeps walking, "Not really."

I suddenly hear a sharp sound of someone's jacket rubbing against wood. I freeze raise my fist as a silent signal for Janice to stop walking. I strain my ears and eyes to find anything. Then I spot someone's hand holding onto the corner of a building on the other side of the street.

"Hide!" I whisper-shout to Janice, hastily gesturing to an open doorway.

I shove her into it and quickly follow her. Not bothering to close the door, we crouch down beside a widow, leaning against the wall under the window. I'm afraid that if I try to close the door, it will be too noisy, like most of the doors in this town.

I can hear the footsteps of someone moving across the street. I curse, realizing they must've seen us. I clutch my trident tightly and look at Janice. Her eyes are wide as she tries to listen for more sounds. There's nothing but silence...almost eerie silence.

Eventually, the anxiety is killing me enough that I can't resist the urge to look out the window another second. I quietly turn my head and inch myself up high enough that I can look out the window, expecting to see the empty street. I frown in confusion when I see something dark instead. My eyes widen when I realize it's a jacket.

Too startled to see who it is, I quickly stand up and swing my fist at the window, shattering it to pieces and clocking the person right in the jaw. The person yells as they are thrown onto the street from the punch, shards of glass clattering by their feet. Now I can get a good look at who it is.

Wesley.

Emma is several yards away, staring at me and Wesley in shock. Clearly, they wasn't expecting us to be in here.

Before I lose the chance, I run out of the house and immediately throw my trident at Emma. She ducks to the ground and jumps back into a standing position as the pointed end of my trident buries itself in the dirt behind her.

Raising her sword, Emma charges at me. I duck a swing from her sword and somersault back to my feet, sprinting to retrieve my trident.

I hear Janice join the fight while I reach for the trident. I grab it and swing it as I spin around, sensing that someone is behind me. Emma screams as the bar of the trident makes contact with her legs and trips her. Without even thinking about it, I plunge the sharp points of my trident into her side. Red blood gushes out and covers her shirt almost immediately.

Emma screams as I pull the trident back out of her side, blood dripping from it. I stare at her, wide-eyed, as she tries to hold the wound shut. For some reason, I feel a pang of guilt for what I just did. I've made a handful of kills already and never felt much of it, but for some reason, I feel like this is very wrong. Something about her makes me think of Janice, and I would never hurt Janice. Emma wouldn't have killed me, she was just defending Wesley. Emma hasn't killed anyone, come to think of it. At least she won't have anyone's blood on her hands if she dies...

I, on the other hand, have a lot of blood on my own hands already, maybe too much. I didn't need anymore.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp wave of pain wash over my shoulder, taking my attention away from Emma. I wince and put my hand to my shoulder. Something has cut through my jacket and opened a gash on the top of my shoulder, near my neck. My fingers become wet with blood as I press them over my shoulder.