promises • cato the hunger games

Twenty-Two

"Cato? Are you awake?"

"No," he replies gruffly.

"Yes you are. Sit up. Please."

"What's up?" he asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Cato, if I die...."

"You won't," he says bluntly. "I'll never let that happen."

"Yeah, but let's just say I do."

"You won't," he says, still adamant. "But what were you going to say anywhere?"

"You have to win, and you have to to promise me that you'll go and rescue my sister and you have to promise you'll look after her."

He smiles. "Of course I will. But I won't need to, because like I've said, we're both getting out of here."

I wish Cato wasn't so, well, positive all the time. He's far too hopeful and optimistic. He needs to be a bit more realistic.

"I'm very realistic," he says, grinning at me.

"Can you stop reading my thoughts please?" I ask, knitting my eyebrows together. "It's annoying."

"Can't help being so psychic," he jokes, smirking.

"But seriously though, you promise you'll look after her if I get killed?" I ask, a bit desperately.

"Hey, hey, I promise," he says, hugging me. "How are you feeling, anyway?"

"Fine now. Why?"

"Because I was thinking tomorrow we should go and track down who's left."

I nod slowly. I suppose we'll have to at some point. "Okay, but I'm not killing anyone, you do it."

"That's fine."

~

"Are you sure you're feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just get all this over with. I just want to go home," I assure him. I just want to go home and get my sister back. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

"Okay then. Let's go," he says, and we both roll back the rock, for the last time. I sling one of the backpacks over my shoulder and we set off. I feel sicker and sicker with each step we take.

"Where d'you think they'll be?" Cato asks, after we've only been walking five minutes.

"Well, if they don't have the good sponsors we have, I'm guessing they'll be near water." I decide it's a good idea to compliment the sponsors to encourage them to keep sending us stuff.

He nods. "We'll head for the lake then."

I slip my hand into his and he grips it tight. "You okay?"

"Fine," I lie.

"Let's talk about something else, yeah?"

"Yeah. Tell me about when you were training."

"Not much to tell. My parents dumped me in a training academy years ago, and I've been there ever since. All I've ever done was train. It was hard. There's wasn't any fun."

"No fun? There must've been a bit. You must have friends and stuff."

"Nope. Sad but true. We were just always in competition with each other. I hated most of them anyway," he says, pulling a face.

"And, er, what about girlfriends?" I ask.

He laughs. "Do you really need to know?"

"Yep." I want to know how many girls he's already been with, although I'm already guessing it's a lot.

"Well, none."

"Yeah, I really believe that, Cato."

"Honest. I've never had time for that. I guess I was waiting for the perfect one. Guess that turned out to be you," he says softly. I practically melt.

"So, how many boyfriends have you had?" he says, snapping me back to reality.

"None," I answer honestly. "I've never had time for boyfriends, or any type of friend, for that matter. I never thought I needed that, until I met you. I don't know, you're different to the others," I say, the words stupidly spilling out uncontrollably.

"Oh, don't flatter me," says Cato, smirking from ear the ear.

"Shut up," I say suddenly. I've heard something. Someone's here. Following us.

"What?" he asks loudly.

"Be quiet," I whisper. "Can you not hear that?"

"What?" he asks loudly, looking baffled.

I cover his mouth with my hand. "I heard leaves rustling," I whisper as quietly as I possibly can.

He pushes my hand away. "Yeah, it's just me and you. I think you're being paranoid."

"No, can't you hear it?" I ask, just as I hear it again. "There! You must've heard."

I spin round and round, trying to find the source of the noise. Cato's laughing at me by now. I ignore him. I know I heard it, I'm not going crazy.

Cato sighs and grabs me. "Stop spinning, you're making me dizzy. I know you're scared, but you're safe with me, okay?" he says softly.

I gently elbow him in the ribs. "I'm not scared," I lie. "I know I heard something. Someone's here, maybe even following us."

"Maybe the leaves rustling was just the wind?" he suggests gently.

"No," I persist stubbornly.

"Well, where are they then?" he asks, almost mockingly by now.

I spin round again, and that's when I see the flicker of orange. It's her. The ginger from Five.

"She's there," I say, pointing up to the tree she's hiding in.