CATO'S POV:
My heart is racing at the speed of sound and I'm seriously afraid I'm going to burst. With each thud in my chest, my body convulses crazily and my breaths are staggered and shaky. All energy gone, my arms dangle limply from my bed as I lie flat on the bed staring at the ceiling.
Why is this happening to me????
The doctor stands over me, but I don't see him. My vision clouds as I stare at the ceiling, overcome by exhaustion, fatigue, and fear. Just when exactly will I cease to exist? At what time will I simply vaporize into the air, amounting to nothing more than a vanished memory?
I inhale deeply, but my diaphragm contracts unexpectedly and I hiccup.
"HADLEY!" The doctor's voice jars me and I shake back to reality. I stare into his face.
He calmly adjusts something beside my bed, without any concern. As if this happens every day.
He doesn't know. He doesn't know that I just changed the past.
"Where's Clove?" I whisper. He doesn't meet my eyes.
"Can I see her?" Still no response.
His eyes drift out the sunny window and he lets out his breath in a huge sigh. I stare at him.
"Sir?"
"I suppose... eventually..." His voice sounds stretched; fine. He says it more to the window than to me. His eyes travel along the frame but his words die into the air.
The hesitation in his manner drives me insane. My pulse is radiating in my limbs as I raise myself up in bed, and only then does he jerk around and push me back down.
"You... must... not... get... up," he hisses at me, before pressing a lever on the side of my bed. Restraining bars lower over my stomach. He regards me sadly before saying, "I'm sorry, but it is only necessary that you remain here while you recover."
I stare at him, but there's nothing I can do. I know the real reason he wants to keep me here. He doesn't think she'll make it. He doesn't want to give me false hope. But at this point I know things cannot get any worse, and all I am asking for is a chance to see her before she's taken from me.
He can grant me that much.
"Please," I whisper in a high-pitched squeak that belies my tough-looking exterior. I'm no longer the slaughtering killing machine from the Games. I'm... weak. And being held down by a doctor.
Why am I being held down by a doctor?!
I reach easily out from the bed and fumble over the side. My fingers find a raised, rounded bump, which I press. The bars roll back and I leap upward from the bed, pushing the startled doctor aside. I land on my feet, which, after lying in a bed for six months, are rather wobbly.
Tripping over my own legs, I charge into the hallway, barely considering the fact that all I'm wearing is a sheet.
I'm in an unfamiliar hallway, on my feet for the first time in weeks. But I'm done with hospitals, done with asylums, done with this crazy world. Where's the only other sane person in my life?
The hallway is actually rather empty. I head for the only open door, rushing past several confused nurses, and to the bedside.
A girl lies there, a girl with long black hair, which despite lying on a pillow for months, is extremely straight. Her eyes are closed in her pale face, her nose pointing upward like a knife on her face. Freckles dot her cheeks like sprinkled pepper. I fall forward on my knees. My hand reaches out and makes contact with her quiet, slender fingers.
Clove.
My arms tighten around her and I hold her close. She's asleep; she really is. But she feels so far away. I bury my face in her hair as the tears start to come. "Clove," I whisper. "Clove; please. Please wake up."
I feel like I'm back in the arena, holding Clove as the life left her. And really, how is this any different? The tears feel the same. My heart feels the same. Empty. The only difference is that we're safe in a hospital, not in an open arena in danger of our lives. And she isn't going to die.
She isn't. Not while I'm here. I can't lose her again. I will go mad, and then the Willard Asylum for the Insane will be the place for me. But I can't let that happen!
Arms reach from behind, prying me from her. I try to push them away, but after lying immobile for six months my arms aren't as powerful as they were when I was in the arena. Two strong hands clench under my armpits and drag me backward across the floor. Then they release me without warning, and I crash to the floor, landing hard on my butt. What are they doing to me??
A needle pokes into my arm and the world goes fuzzy.
"Maybe the asylum was the better place for this one." I wake up to the voice of one of the doctors speaking to another. My back snaps upward as I sit up. "WHERE IS SHE? WAKE HER UP NOW!" I scream myself hoarse.
"He's mad," one of them mumbles. My insides contort with anger. Doesn't he know what it's like to be in love with someone? Does ANYONE HERE know what it feels like to see the one you love an inch from death?
"WHY HAVEN'T YOU WOKEN HER UP YET?!" I shout as they look down at me sympathetically. "SHE'S GOING TO DIE IF YOU DON'T TAKE CARE OF HER!"
My excitement dissolves into exhaustion. My head falls back. I can't do this anymore. I should have died in the arena. We all should have. I deserved that, but I didn't deserve this. False rescue and torture.
Maybe I really should calm down. I'm not earning myself any brownie points with these people.
I'm jabbed with the needle again. Did whoever saved us from the arena know what we'd be going through once we remembered our status? This last thought passes through my head as I descend into the confusing, shadowy realm of subconsciousness.
When I awaken, the doctors are gone. Ignoring my throbbing head, I crawl out of my bed and cross over to Clove's, which sits across the room.
My spirits are dashed. She looks exactly the same as she did however many days ago it was that I last saw her. Please. She has to live. Please save her. My hand finds hers and I squeeze it. There's life in there. I know there is. I can feel it.
She's survived through so much, each time breaking records. The Hunger Games themselves, which neither of us should have come out of alive. Now this bombing...
We're clearly meant to live. How or why I can't say. Why I'm not dead now, I don't know. But the fact that I'm here tells me something. Gives me something.
I can't give up now. I CAN save her. I CAN find a way to leave this time and place.
We got here somehow; we can get back. We have to leave; that's the reason the past is now in turmoil. Everything that was supposed to happen to bring the future to Panem has been stopped. Clove and I have to leave here before something terrible happens. Images of a zombie apocalypse are drifting through my head but I quickly shut them out as my attention focuses on the girl before me.
"Clover." I use the nickname I've called her in my head for so long now but never dared actually use. It's only now, as she hovers on the line between life and death, that I call her by the name that means so much to me; that is filled with power. I will save her.
Then the impossible happens.
I feel a stirring in her palm as I sit on the edge of her bed holding it tightly. I can feel her regulated and extremely slow heartbeat begin to suddenly pick up. Something rushes through me and I lift my averted eyes.
"Clove?"
She stirs; her hand moves. Her head shifts on the pillow, mussing the dark hair that has lain perfectly in place for months. My own pulse quickens as I see the eyes, closed for so long, open suddenly. I see the flash of dark brown as they fall on me, then widen with recognition. She knows me.
Without words or hesitation, which would certainly get in the way of this moment, she flies upward to a sitting position as I catch both her hands.
I don't even have to make the first move. Lacking any doubt, she leans forward and our lips meet with a feeling I have almost forgotten. But the lips that kiss me are real, and I don't care how phony the world is; Clove and I are real.
And real together.
When we both pull away after what seems like an eternity, I say her name, as I like it. "Clover."
"Cato." Her face has changed; matured. She's grown with it. We haven't come through all this without scathing. But it's been a change for the better, and I see behind her ever-beautiful face, the same Clove I fell in love with an eternity in the past... or in the future.
"Do you want to go home?" I ask softly. I don't tell her about the wars; I don't even mention them. All that exists in a world outside the one we share. None of it seems to matter. We're going home.
"I am home," she whispers before she kisses me again. My arms wrap around her shoulders and stay there. She's right.
But reality is still reality and we need to leave before we wreck the future any more than it's already been.
I stand up. "Come on." I hold out my hand and she catches it.
We leave.
As we walk, I finally tell her what's been happening. How the wars have been discontinued and how it's our fault.
She looks concerned, but she barely acts like it. "Maybe we should contact Marguerite."
I consider this. She's probably our best bet; she should be able to tell us how we can get back to the Capitol since she came from there herself, assigned to keep an eye on us. So I agree.
We reach the apartment building and enter. I breathe in the familiar perfume scent of the perfect lobby as we cross the granite floor over to the elevator. The floor is so polished I feel like I'm standing on a horizontal mirror.
We pass down the hallway. I remember her room number as much as I would if it were stamped on the back of my hand. I stop Clove outside Room 26G and knock.
The knocks echo through the still building. I hear the sound of moving feet before the rustle of the doorknob being unlocked. Good to know it's not electrified anymore.
The door swings open and I'm instantly met with a pair of hazel eyes in a freckled face framed by a crown of messy brown hair. The girl shrieks and jumps back when she sees me. She's wearing a bathrobe.
I'm perplexed. I know this is the right room. Where is Marguerite?
"Who are you?" shrieks the girl. She leans over her shoulder and yells, "MOM!"
"What?" echoes a woman's voice.
"It's not Randy!" she screams back. "It's... people." She turns and regards us uncomfortably.
"Uh... excuse me," I say awkwardly. "Isn't this where Marguerite Swanson lives?"
She bites her lip. "No... I live here."
I turn to Clove, who shrugs helplessly.
"How long have you lived here?" I ask the girl.
She glares at me. "What, are you trying to stalk me or something? MOM! GET OVER HERE!" she bellows back into the house.
"Um. Sorry," I stammer, backing up a little. "Sorry for bothering you. Ex-excuse us." I grip Clove's wrist and drag her away from the door, which is quickly slammed by the girl.
"What do you think?" Clove whispers to me as we cross the hallway. "She's gone. Probably decided to clear out of here once she realized the wars were slowing down. Like we should have done."
I shake my head. "How did she get back?"
"She knew," Clove replies. "She must have gone the same way we came."
"Where's that?"
Clove smiles a little. "Guess we'd better start back where we began."
"Meaning..."
She nods. "The Frederick Ward."
I never wanted to return to the shabby little science institute three blocks away from Marguerite's apartment. My memories of landing there are not positive. Since it was the place where I arrived, what I remember of it is lying in a white room not even knowing my own name.
Creepy.
But Clove's right. We have to go back. As we enter the building through the side door, I walk into the lobby and am met with several scientists in lab coats.
"Good morning. Can I help you?" one asks. His clear-cut bald features are unwelcoming, but I ignore them.
"Morning. I'm Cato Hadley, and this is Clove Kentwell. We--"
"I know you!" the man exclaims suddenly at the mention of our names. "You're the worldwide sensations from the David O'Brien Show. You're the reason we're not at war! Congratulations!" His expression changed within an instant, he shakes our hands vigorously.
"Thanks," I say awkwardly, even though I know I don't want to be accepting praise for this mistaken turn of events. "We need your help."
"What is it, son?"
"We--." I stop. I don't know what I should tell him and what I shouldn't. But Clove's at my side, softly urging me on. "Do it!"
So I do it.
"We made a serious mistake, sir. Clove and I were sent here from the future, and we caused a great disturbance. We need to go forward and make things right."
His face displays slight concern intermingled with doubt. "Sir, I do not know how I can help--"
"Please," I interrupt. "When we were brought from the future, this was where we were first found. Someone else brought us here without our consent, and wiped our memories in the process. We need to know how and where we were first found."
"Wait here," he tells us before turning and disappearing into a back room. A moment later he returns with a familiar-looking woman.
"This is Erin. She was on duty when you were found," he tells us.
Her eyes express terror at the sight of us. "You're..." she gasps. "You're the aliens!"
"Not aliens," I quickly tell her. "We're from the future. We need to return. We need you to show us where we were found."
She takes us upstairs, keeping a noticeably tentative distance as she leads us into a room lined with pallets. "This was the room. There you all lay, nearly twenty children, each on his own mat." She shakes her head. "It was the strangest sight ever to reach my eyes."
"Are there any other exits?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "No. This is the only door, and it was locked when I came in. You can see that there are no windows. Therefore it cannot be explained."
I look around the room, and then I instantly freeze, because a sight has just reached my eyes; a sight that instantly contradicts Erin's words. I look down and my eyes meet Clove's. She knows.
But neither of us make any movement. Erin shrugs and steps out of the room. "That's all I can tell you two. I'm sorry." She walks out, leaving the two of us standing alone.
"Cato," Clove whispers softly. My finger crosses my lips. Shh.
Both our eyes travel over to the opposite wall, where a noticeable metal door sits, very conspicuous against the wall. (A/N: If you don't remember this, read Transition Chapter to Part 3: THE CITY again.)
The fact that we can see it while Erin takes no notice must mean something. I cross over to the door and press a button on the bar across the middle. A small metal plate lifts like a latch over the center of it, revealing a small digital screen.
"What is it?" Clove asks, approaching behind me.
"A password for entry," I reply. A question pops onto the screen:
What is your country name?
My breath catches in my lungs. "It's a test."
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"If this is really from Panem, then the answer is Panem," I tell her. "They only have this here in case someone from here could see it. But since they can't, I think that proves this is from Panem. This is probably to prevent random strangers from getting past."
"Unless," Clove whispers, "they were trying to keep us out."
"What do you mean?"
Her eyes are huge and dark as they stare at me. "Cato, you know what I'm talking about. They didn't want us to go back to Panem. They wanted us to stay here, believing we belonged in the 21st century. They didn't want us to remember and they didn't plan for us to remember. In their plan, we would arrive here and come to believe the United States was our home. Then, even though we could see the door, we'd never think to answer 'Panem.'" Her voice is barely above a whisper right now, and I can detect the emotion in it. "Cato, why didn't they want us to go back? Why were they trying to get rid of us?"
"Probably because we supposedly died in the Games," I reply.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "So... now? What'll we do when we get there?"
I've been avoiding this issue for a long time, but I guess I'll have to face it sooner or later. I just shake my head. "Don't worry; Clove. I've got it under control."
"I'm not worried." She shakes her head and grins, and I catch a glimpse of the old Clove in that smile. She hasn't really changed; just... adapted to her surroundings a bit.
All of that is about to change. I turn around and punch "PANEM" into the screen. It lights up for a second, and then darkens.
"Did it work?" Clove asks.
The door doesn't open, but instead I see a tiny drawer slide out of the contraption, revealing a tiny handheld screen device. I wasn't expecting this, but I reach over and pick it up.
"What the heck is this?" I wonder aloud as the screen reveals the U.S. President talking about something. Were we wrong about this door...?
"Thanks to the efforts of these prophetic aliens, Cato and Clove, all our wars have ceased," he states loudly and clearly.
"They've got their facts wrong," I mumble, but Clove holds out a hand. "Wait; just wait."
Some other guy appears on the screen. I don't know him, but I've seen him on TV. Some foreign president. He's speaking in another language about something I can't understand. Behind him I see images of soldiers in the woods.
"What is all this?" I mutter, perplexed.
"I think," Clove replies, "it shows us what's happening in the world right now."
"Oh. Interesting." I look up and notice an additional button is now available beside the password imput on the latch of the door. Forgetting the device, I slip it quickly into my pocket before reaching out and pressing the button.
There is a screeching sound as the metal door slides downward, revealing the last thing I expected to see: a long shaft with blurry colored walls, like a tunnel stretching downward.
I don't know what I expected; a door into Panem maybe. Or the old arena. Instead I'm facing some alienlike passageway that is definitely not visible on the other side of the wall in this ward.
"Clove?"
She isn't looking at me. "Come on; let's go," she says.
"Wait--" I start to say. "We need to consider this--"
"Nope." Then, before I can stop her, she leaps into the air, kicking off the floor and diving into the vertical tunnel.
"CLOVE!" I yell, lunging forward. But she's already disappeared. A shock runs through my body as I cling to the panel of the doorframe. No... I didn't plan for this. I didn't want to see the girl I love and have almost lost a million times leap into a hole that looks like it must lead to the Underworld or something.
She's reckless, though. She's never been much for making long-term plans.
And, I realize then, neither have I.
Without any further hesitation, I leap off the brink after her.
A/N: This is it!! What do you think they'll find on the other side?
Two more chapters! Wow! Can't wait for this book to be over, honestly! But it's really been fun to write. Thanks for all your support!!
~Tina the Kat