The 53rd Hunger Games- Two Words

25. Hadrian's Redemption

He saved me. I told him I hated him, tried to kill him, but in the end he saved me.

I can barely believe it. Hadrian is a Career. He sided with the Careers.

But he still defied them. For me.

Why?

I run, faster than I have before. Running for my life. The forest has turned against me; it tries to hurt me, tries to slow me down. The pain from the back of my knees is excruciating. Each step becomes a stumble, as my body decides it can’t go any further. I try to will it on, try to push through the blinding agony, but collapse to the ground all the same.

I can’t do it.

I can’t do it.

Hadrian saved my life; I should keep trying, I should keep pushing myself. I owe it to him, don’t I?

Instead I start sobbing. Why? Why did he pretend he’d never spoken to me, never helped me, never given me advice? I wasn’t rational either. I screamed at him, told him I hated him.

He still helped me. For a reason I cannot fathom, he helped me.

My tears drip onto the blade of my axe, which glows dully in the fading light. There won’t be any faces in the sky tonight. I might hope that I’ve killed her, might have wounded her, but Arabella’s still alive. Which means she’ll be more determined to find me than ever.

And what of Hadrian? What have the Careers done to him? What pain will they inflict upon him? Will he be able to make up an excuse, weasel out of his sticky situation?

Are the Careers making him suffer, or has he convinced them he shielded me for a reason?

There isn’t a cannon.

He isn’t dead yet.

I wipe my nose on my arm, take rickety breaths as I try to clam myself down. The Careers must be tending to Arabella, but it won’t be long before they’re back on the war path. I’ve given them a better reason than they could hope for to kill me.

It’s like kicking a nest of tracker jackers. Nothing good will come of it.

I sniff, and get to my feet. The back of legs hurt, oh god, they hurt. I can’t stop, can’t give in. The Games are designed to kill you, but before you die, they test you. Test you in cruel, brutal ways.

The biggest test of all is surviving.

I limp along awkwardly, trying to keep my back straight. Like that’ll ease the pain. My unitard is soaked with blood where my wounds are; I feel the wet material shift slightly as I walk. Can’t my sponsors send something to take the pain away?

Sleep is the last thing on my mind. The truth is that I can only walk for so long, and I need to stop to treat my wounds. That, and all sorts of night creatures are coming out. There may be more mutts than I realised in the arena.

Then I realise something. I can’t treat my wounds. I don’t have anything to eat. I don’t have a source of light. All I have is my axe. My pack is still with the Careers.

No food, no water, no supplies.

It makes me want to collapse and sob all over again.

The anthem begins without warning. I almost cry out, I’m so surprised. The seal flickers into being, but there are no faces. The anthem plays through, and then all traces of it vanish along with the seal.

I decide to give in. The Careers shouldn’t pursue me until the morning. I’ll be up by then.

And running.