The Hunger Games: Retold

Chapter 20

Clawing my way up and out, finally, from the grip of the dreams and blackness my eyes open at last.

"Katniss?" My voice is slurred and cracked. I shake my head trying to force my vision to clear, everything is dark and blurry and I can't see anything but I call again, "Katniss?" There's no answer and I feel dread start to rise through the heavy numbness of the syrup. As the dim cave comes into focus I see her, lying in a heap next to me, but here and breathing and my hands begin to tremble with relief. I reach unsteadily toward her, but then I see the blood. My breath catches in my throat, so much blood!

My limbs are still heavy and slow to obey, but I heave myself up and clumsily run my hands over her, looking for wounds. The blood is pooled around her head and even though there's gore everywhere and she has fresh bruises, I don't find signs of other injuries. As gentle as I can force my hands to be, I search through her hair to her scalp. The only cut I can find is a slice over her eye, but the creeping trail from it is relentless. I have no idea how long she's been bleeding, or how much she's lost, but the pool around her head is terrifying.

The medical kit is right next to me and I quickly shuffle through, pulling out a wad of gauze and holding it firmly against her forehead. When it soaks through I replace it, and again. By the third time it looks like the bleeding has finally stopped. With a shaking hand, I push the hair out of her face and press my lips against her forehead. I close my eyes and rest my head against hers, weak with relief. She is frighteningly pale and motionless, and her skin has a clammy chill. Unsure if it will help, but not knowing what else to try, I dab some of the burn cream over the cut, then wrap a bandage as neatly as I can, and as tightly as I dare, around her head and she doesn't respond at all. I sit back and take stock.

I don't know how long I was unconscious, but it looks like it must be evening now. It's hard to tell, the sky is dark and angry, the rain sheeting down with flashes of lightning occasionally cracking across the clouds. My arm is throbbing and I examine it to find a small puncture and a raised bump that's sore to the touch. There's a syringe on the floor close by and a tiny pack. Shaking my head, I dare to look at my leg. The awful red streaks have retreated and, while it's still swollen, it doesn't ache as much and looks a little closer to a normal color around the bandage. She really did it. I take her hand in mine and squeeze it gently, willing her to fight her way back to me again.

Her breathing is steady and I can feel a pulse, though it seems weak, under her jaw. Grabbing one of the water bottles she left, I tilt her head as much as I dare and try to pour a trickle into her mouth. She swallows weakly and I watch her with growing concern. Why wouldn't that wake her up? I don't know anything about head wounds, but I do know blood loss is serious. I try to comfort myself thinking that it doesn't look like she took a blow, just a cut. Clove and her knives get a black curse from me as the likely culprit, but I don't know how to treat it. Pressing my hands to my eyes I try to think, though my brain is still sluggish from the damn sleep syrup.

I decide she lost a lot of blood, and was starved and exhausted to start with, probably her body is just trying to recover and the best I can do is make her comfortable and wait. Katniss is strong and beyond stubborn, this isn't going to take her out. The syrup still has me fuzzy, but I don't feel achy with fever anymore and I start to work. I'm able to use the water bottles to clean most of the blood off her. Her feet are drenched, she must be freezing. I pull off her boots and socks and try to massage some heat back before tucking her snugly into the sleeping bag. I'm worried about jogging her head around, but the bandage stays clear for now. I risk a little more water to her lips, then use the old gauze to try and clean some of the blood from the floor of the cave.

The sky outside is so black I'm not sure what time it is, but I make out the anthem under the thrum of the storm. Peering up through the downpour I watch as the seal fades to reveal Clove's sneer and then darkness takes over again. I shudder and sweep my eyes over the forest. Cato will be mad with rage and on the hunt. Katniss has rigged a covering to the mouth of the cave, but I pull back hurriedly anyway. I wonder who killed Clove, that's who Cato will be after right now.