Come Back to Me

XXVIII

It took a better part of the evening for Cordelia to abandon Carter's body. Her sobs were loud and violent for hours, her knife still lodged in his stomach, until she had mustered up the will to take it out and get moving. She had dug a shallow hole nearby in the sand, big enough for her to leave his body, his arms crossed over a patch of wild flowers she had pulled from around them. Now she was alone. Not that she was able to put anything into words anyhow. Her nightmare had been replaced with the real series of events, though eberything still played over behind her eyelids every time she had closed them over the two and a half days. The sound of his cannon was far gone, his image faded from the night sky, having revealed to Lucky the identity of his last opponent.

She was Lucky's last opponent.

The conclusion was the one that had been able to come the fastest to her in the entirety of the games. How could she possibly let him be the one to survive? Lucky craved bloodshed, fed off of the terrible sounds he could draw from any tribute unlucky to find themselves in the unwavering tightness of his grip. And of course Cordelia had done her fair share of killing, but in the world she had been locked away in for twenty-two days, everyone had. In fact, the only person she could think of that had made it past the bloodbath with no blood on their hands was Carter, and look where that had gotten him. It was more than normal, even to the people watching through a screen. But there was a difference. Cordelia had killed to survive, and Lucky had done it to entertain both the people who had sent him into the arena and more importantly, himself. Heartlessly, and without a blink of an eye. Without a single second of regret. And how could she let a person like that be the victor?

But was she really any better?

Each question was almost laughable in depth, in their own way. When it came down to it, Lucky was technically perfect. He had the looks, and the personality. Someone who can't be torn down, who can't be phased by the deaths or downfall of everyone around him. Someone who would sacrifice whatever it takes, even his own ally, to get to victory. To get back home. Someone who is unbreakable. Actually, he was everything the Capitol wanted. But, he was everything the districts didn't deserve. So, how could she let him win? The answer to that, was clearer than the blue, cloudless sky, beaming above her with an unbearable heat.

She couldn't.

There was no way she could put it in her mind, that made his victory acceptable. Cordelia would be the winner of the seventieth hunger games. She had to win, or at least die trying.

So, she took one more day. Using the skills her parents had taught her to fish, the skills Parker taught her to hunt, and the skills Carter had taught her to redress her wound. It was practically healed, but his instructions to keep it dressed rang clearly through her mind. She went over every piece of information Gretchen was able to provide on the boy who was meant to be her ally, and then she prepared to make her move. Cordelia was on her way to Lucky, wanting to give no time for another obstacle to stand in the way of her final fight or, give him the chance to decide to come for her first.

There was no doubt that he was still at the Cornicopia but, come night fall he would probably set out for her. The only way this whole thing could even remotely go in the direction she intended, was if she got to him first. For the first time, she could see it when she closed her eyes. Her family. Her home. Finnick. Cordelia finally understood the possibility that she could return. She knew that she could get it all back, or whatever was left. She could make it out.

That lit a spark in her. A spark that quickly burned into a blazing flame. Big enough and hot enough to burn her path straight and narrow. To leave just enough room to get her exactly where she needed to go. Enough room to get her home. Her tears vaporized like steam in response to the fire being fueled by her anger and desperation. Anger at herself for letting Lucky get away the two times she did, desperation to finally finish him off. She never thought she'd see herself ready to end someone's life, almost looking forward to it. But, she never saw herself in the games either.