TWENTY SEVEN -
I don't wait to see what exactly has decided to track us. I group my knives into one hand, grab hold of Cato's with the other and begin to drag him through the trees. There are no paths to follow, gnarled roots threatening to trip me as we crash through the undergrowth. My heart hammers against my ribcage with every strike of my boots against the dirt, as something thunders through the forest in pursuit of us. When a cacophony of snarls and howls joins the rustle of leaves and shriek of terrified birds, I realise exactly what that something is.
Mutts. This is how the Gamemakers have decided to orchestrate our final showdown. They're driving us towards the lake, and I have no doubt that 12 will be joining us there.
As the animalistic growls seem to get closer I risk a glance over my shoulder, and at once I wish I hadn't. These mutts aren't something I've seen in any previous Games, but they're wolf-like in shape, differing in size and colour. And fast, extremely fast. When one manages to creep far too close to Cato's heels for comfort I whip around and launch one of my knives towards it. The blade catches the mutt in the shoulder, and it yelps, falling back as another takes its place. There's something unnerving about the new pack leader – light coloured fur curls across its lithe body, and bright green eyes glimmer in it's snarling face.
Glimmer.
"It's Glimmer." I breathe, and then a vine catches me unawares and the ground is coming up to meet me. My hands slam into a patch of thorns and I cry out, but something is pulling me up by the back of my jacket. For a moment I think it's her, the mutt, but then I hear Cato's voice roaring into my ears to run and I manage to find my footing again. Gasping for air, my lungs, feet, everything aching from the effort, I press on to catch up with Cato.
"It's them." I pant as we break into a clearing. The remnants of the fire which effectively destroyed our original camp lay in the centre, coated with silvery ashes. We're almost there, almost there. But it's them. The mutts are our fellow tributes. And I don't think our alliances will help us anymore.
"I know, I know. I saw Thresh too." Cato shouts back as we sprint through the last stretch of woods between us and the grassy plain where the Games began. I can see the cornucopia up ahead, golden horn glinting in the moonlight, and the sight of it steels me to keep pushing. Don't stop. Keep running.
Then something heavy crashes into my side and I stumble, teetering on the balls of my feet. I'm struggling to stay upright, and desperate to put the distance back between myself and the mutts when I notice what, or rather who collided with me. For a split second, I lock gazes with Katniss Everdeen. I'm drawing my knife, her arrow notched to fly.
And both of our weapons lodge into the neck of the mutt leaping out of the tree line, razor sharp claws bared towards us. Then we're backing away, turning to run as the mutt collapses to the floor, lips pulled back to show it's gleaming teeth. Cato's voice urge me to catch up with him, and I leave the girl on fire behind.
The two of us reach the cornucopia together, hands slamming the metal surface of the horn as we begin to climb. The mutts are leaping onto the plain now, gaining on the pair from 12 who are halfway across the grass. I use the last of my strength to pull myself up on top of the cornucopia, and collapse beside Cato.
"We-we're o-k-kay." I heave out, sprawled flat on my back, staring up at the moon above. The sound of Cato's rattling breaths and the growls of the mutts on the grass below are enough to tell me that we are anything but okay. Soon 12 will reach us, fight their way up here, and then we will have something more to worry about. The image of the knife and the arrow piercing the mutt at the same time flashes before my eyes, but I blink it away quickly. We could have turned our weapons on each other, but then the creature would have ripped us both apart. No, it was better to take out the mutt whilst we could. Nothing more than an act of survival.
The clank of boots against metal signals that the pair must have begun their climb. I push myself up to my knees, still breathing hard and fast, inching my way over to Cato who is retching over the opposite side of the cornucopia.
"They're coming." I manage to choke out. "12."
Cato says something back, but the reply is lost as he doubles over again, spluttering. "C-can they climb it?" My eyes dart to the horn, where a pair of hands are gripping the metal, knuckles white with the effort of pulling themselves up. The familiar braided hair slides into view a moment later, followed by the blonde head of Cato and I's former ally.
Katniss and Peeta haul themselves onto the cornucopia just as the first mutt launches itself towards the horn. They're badly out of breath and Peeta is bleeding heavily, scarlet slicking the gold metal beneath him. The loud shriek of claws scraping against metal cleaves the atmosphere in two, as the mutts begin their assault. They're propped up on their hind legs now, assembling so perfectly into formation that it chills me to the bone. So eerily human. The Gamemakers have done an incredible job on them. I'm sure they'll be congratulated on this particular model for years to come.
Fortunately, it seems they can't gain purchase on the metal, sliding down the gleaming surface each time. "Can they climb it?" He asks again, and I notice his voice is much clearer now.
"No!" Katniss and I both say in unison. And in the time it takes us to look towards each other and back again, we lose sight of our District partners. Cato is on his feet in seconds, wrapping his arm around Peeta's neck and holding him in a headlock.
Everything moves so fast after that. Katniss notches an arrow, aimed for Cato's head. I pull two knives, ready to throw. And just like that, we are stuck at stalemate. Peeta struggles helplessly against Cato's hold - even after hard running for miles Cato is stronger. But with Katniss' weapon aimed at his skull, he can't move. And even if I throw, I run the risk of Katniss releasing the arrow before my knife strikes her. Which will mean Cato's death.
And I am not going home without him. Those crowns belong to us. We will take them down. We will win. It is in our blood, our bones, our souls. We were born for this. This honour. This glory.
This is our year.
I notice Peeta drag the bloody X over the back of Cato's hand a split second too late.
"NO!" I scream, but I cannot stop the arrow as it pierces it's mark, releasing the baker's son from Cato's grip. Filled with unbridled rage, I hurl my knife into Peeta Mellark's back. It lodges into his spine, and a satisfied grin slips across my lips.
But I should have known he wouldn't dare go down without taking one of us with him.
I can only watch helplessly as Peeta uses his dying moments to latch his hand around Cato's wrist, and pull him over the edge of the cornucopia with him. And in that moment I don't care that Katniss waits at my back, with a quiver of arrows waiting to kill me.
"CATO!" I cry out. Down on the grass, a couple of the mutts have taken interest in Peeta's body, but most of them are crowded around Cato. He draws his sword, the gladiator in the ring. Facing off the wild animals. It's my Tracker Jacker induced nightmares brought horrifyingly to life.
I pull knife after knife, sending them flying desperately into the creatures as he deflects their claws with his blade. I can help him, I can help him. He can fight them off. He's Cato. He can do anything. Then Peeta's cannon fires, and at once every mutt's eyes lock onto the boy I love. When he jumps forwards in a last ditch attempt to escape, the mutts snapping at his heels, I reach out my hand and grab on to him. My muscles are burning instantly, every ounce of strength I have holding him, desperate to pull him up to safety.
"Hold on! Just hold on!" I scream, but the creatures have snagged his ankles in their teeth, pulling him from my grasp. Snarls, shouts, the sound of metal on metal, claws scratching. I can't lose him. I can't lose him.
But we both know I can't do this forever. I'm not strong enough. I never have been. Tears well in my eyes as he fixes me with one last stare - the same one we might have been sharing for years, but never known. "I love you."
"CATO!"
His hands slip through my fingers and he crashes back towards the grass. The mutts are upon him in seconds, and I can hear every rip, every tear. My Tracker Jacker nightmare, real.
I don't know how long it takes me to realise that Katniss is still on top of the cornucopia with me, but the sound of her boots clanking against the metal spur me into action, and suddenly it hits me. If I kill her now, then they'll to call off the mutts. She must die before those creatures take him. It's the only way for us to win. The only way for us to see the mountains again.
The realisation has me ripping my last knife from my vest, raising my arm to throw, and in that same moment her final arrow is notched, ready to fly.
And now I know how this has to end. If this is the way, then so be it. If I am going down, I am taking her down with me. At least that way Cato can go home.
I hope Loren understands.
...
BOOM!
My knife clatters to the metal. No. My knees gives out beneath me. No. This isn't possible. It has to be a joke, a figment of my imagination. But I know from the look on Katniss Everdeen's face as she lowers her bow that it's not. The final cannon. Cato Hadley is dead. The boy I love is dead.
And the girl on fire has lowered her weapon?
I don't understand. Why isn't she killing me? I can't move, my eyes won't focus. I dropped my only weapon. I'm a sitting duck. Why isn't Katniss Everdeen shooting her final arrow through my heart? To end all of this once and for all.
Two victors. Two crowns. But nobody could predict who would be wearing them in the end.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games. Clove Kentwell and Katniss Everdeen."
AUTHOR'S NOTE -
Yep. I did that. I'm not even sorry. Okay I am sorry. But if you're wondering how this was allowed then check back to the announcement chapter, I changed it from two victors from same district to just two victors :') I know one person figured it out earlier but I know it would have given it away obviously that it wasn't gonna be the conventional 'Cato and Clove win and become Katniss and Peeta' ending if I'd brought too much attention to it. I'm sorry that this series will now take a divert from it's Clato roots, as I know that's the reason why most of you started reading this :// I'm sorry for any pain and heartache caused tonight. Please don't kill me in my sleep. But thank you for reading I love you all so much!!! - Vee xx (also this ain't the end there's still a couple more chapters, plus I'm not actually happy with this chapter at all tbh lol even though it's the big finale)