Careers Have Feelings Too | CLATO | GLARVEL |

Chapter 11

CLOVE POV

3... 

2...

1...

The gong sounds. Instantly I race out towards the Cornucopia. Every one of us is running for our lives, and I'm no different. I'm sprinting towards a pile of several knives that are laying next to a small pack. I reach them, and grab all of them, my head whipping around to check who's close to me. The District Three girl is close by, and without reacting I swing a knife at her violently. She barely notices it burrowing into her chest as she falls to the ground. 

Is that it, I think? Is that all it takes, to kill someone? I never even thought about it. 

But I push that out of my mind, and run over to her to pull my knife back. Now that my hands are full of them, I'm confident again, as if I'm where I was always supposed to be. There are still tributes everywhere, and I suddenly spot Katniss struggling with a boy for a small backpack. My eyes widen with satisfaction as I send another knife into the boy, and before Katniss has time to be shocked, another one headed right for her head. 

I know Cato wanted to kill her, but something makes me feel good for getting there first. 

But she isn't dead. She must have dodged the knife, somehow, because I see her dark braid vanishing into the trees. Damn it. I could've got her. 

Even though the Games are only minutes in, the tributes are scattering. There's only a handful left fighting, along with the rest of the Careers. I scan the area, and just as I turn I see Marvel thrust a spear into Tory's chest. 

Jeez. The Games have barely begun, and he's killing our allies already? Glimmer is watching, and she lets out a bloodcurdling scream as Tory drops to the floor, running over to him and sinking to her knees. I'm not really paying attention, but she's holding his hand and whispering something to him. What is going on? 

"I'll get it to them. I promise," she says, her hands white as they clutch his. He's gone, I can tell. Marvel is standing there awkwardly. 

Get what to who? I swear no-one ever tells me anything. Glimmer looks up at Marvel, tears streaking her face.

"Marvel!" She screams. "How could you! He has a baby!" 

My eyes widen. I didn't know that. But it's not my business, I think, as I scan the Cornucopia for leftover tributes. There are some tattered bodies on the ground, but nobody left except us. For a moment I recognise some of the bloodied faces of kids I've been training with for the past few days, faces who only hours ago were fresh and bright, laughing with Caesar. Tory is the worst to look at, the desperate expression Marvel left him with stamped on his face forever. Glimmer is still shouting and screaming, and I can't deal with it. 

I don't want to think about the consequences. 

Cato is stood by the Cornucopia, examining a long sword he's found right in the centre. He looks in his element, and I feel sick. The memory of last night has been weighing on my mind despite being such a trivial thing in these circumstances, but it's painful to think about. I truly believe Cato doesn't care for any of us, at all, especially me. But at the same time I know I might have overreacted. Who can blame me, anyway? 

It's the Hunger Games. Nothing is normal. 

Marvel stomps over to the horn. "Glimmer," he fumes. "What is her problem? He wasn't even in the alliance." 

Ember's here too, a few paces behind Marvel. She has blood on her face and hands that she wipes off with one foul swoop, as if it's raindrops on a cloudy day.