Peeta Mellark's POV (Catching Fire & Mockingjay)

Part 1

Katniss' screams ring in my ears. Something is wrong. The plan was simple. Drop the wire and run back. Run back into my arms Katniss, I think, my eyes frantically searching the dense dark jungle for any sign of her.

"Katniss!" I scream out, oblivious to the threats of Brutus and Enobaria lurking, ready to strike and slaughter me where I stand. Restless, I pace, eager to deviate from the plan entirely. "Beetee what's happening?" The words make me cringe through clenched teeth. Beetee is speechless, his eyes darting to and forth in every direction. Does he know something I don't? Finnick meets my gaze. He knows too. Something is wrong. We have to get out of here.

"Katniss!" I scream again, thrusting my knife from my pocket. Finnick and I stand with our backs to each other. Facing the jungle, we circle, weapons at the ready. Minutes pass and Katniss doesn't answer my calls. I grow on edge by the second, my hands ball into fists. Rage simmers inside me, I can't just stand here!

"I'm going in," I grit my teeth, unhooking the sheath of arrows and bow. "Cover me." I shove the best defence I have in Finnick's hands, breathe deeply and brace myself for attack.

"No. I'll go." Finnick grabs my shoulder, locking me in place. "I'm faster."

"Damn it Finnick! This is no time to be a hero!" I demand, clutching him by the collar. Only wielding an ounce of my strength I can still lift Finnick off the ground. Slowly, he raises his hands to my wrists.

"Let me bring her back." Finnick says sternly. The look in his eyes disarms me. Here in my grasp is the man who saved my life not once. Not twice but three times. I owe him my trust. Yet putting Katniss' life in his hands shakes me to my very core. "Peeta?" Finnick whispers. I breathe deeply and release my grip. Finnick falls back against the tree, catching his breath. Suddenly I'm frozen where I stand, paralysed with fear and loathing.

"Go." Is all I can muster, shoving my knife in my pocket and snatching the sheath from him. I arm myself with the bow and arrows, ready to eliminate anything that comes in our direction.

Without another word, Finnick clutches his trident and sprints into the darkness. I glance at Beetee who sits quietly against the tree, rocking back and forward like Wiress.

"Beetee." I say, catching his attention. His eyes are wild, like the morphling's. Realisation flickers across his face. "Keep it together. This is no time to lose ourselves."

"Johanna! Katniss!" I hear Finnick call. Guarding Beetee, I raise the bow and aim it dead ahead. The muscles in my entire body tense. Grounded. Poised. The boom of a canon jerks my bow toward the sky. Frantically I glance around. Beetee gazes up at me in despair. Someone is dead. My nerves ache.

"Katniss is not dead." I force the words from my mind to my mouth. I clutch them with my very being. She is all I have left. I'm not going to lose her now. I glance down at Beetee again for reassurance. Silently, he nods. I allow myself a tiny sigh of relief. Finnick's calls cease. I gulp, hoping of all the victors running around frightened and agile, he is still breathing.

Suddenly, a figure charges at me from the darkness. Brutus. With only seconds to react, I release the arrow. It flies into his knee. Grabbing another, it flies into his abdomen. I shoot arrow after arrow. Yet Brutus still maintains speed. An arrow penetrates his shoulder stopping him cold. Brutus plummets to his knees. No ounce of mercy left in me, I fire an arrow into his heart. His body jerks back and falls to the ground. He wriggles and shakes for a moment. Breathing deeply, the realisation tidal waves over me. I just killed a man. A man who's only defence, only weapon was his bare hands.

I lower the bow and meander over. Standing over him, I gaze down at Brutus who clutches the arrow piercing his heart. He gargles blood. It spews from every puncture point, bathing his body in thick red liquid, glistening in the moonlight. As I gaze down at him, I imagine myself in his place. With one final act of mercy, I slowly pull an arrow from the sheath and grip it tightly in my hand. I kneel at Brutus' side. Refusing to meet his big brown eyes, I thrust the arrow into his head. Blood spouts upward, dousing my chin and mouth. Another canon fire.

I sigh and stand, armed with the bow again. Hastily, I heave Brutus' dead body out of the open and into the jungle's edge to await the hovercraft. The silence is deafening. Every muscle in my jaw wants to scream Katniss' name. But I refuse. The enemy was afoot. Lurking in the shadows. Emerging from the jungle, I notice the pool of blood at my feet. Quickly, I kick up the dirt and scatter leaves, concealing all that remains of Brutus, Victor of District 2. Glancing at Beetee again, he gazes at me teary-eyed.

"And then there were five." I say defiantly. A rustle alerts me. Raising my bow, I edge toward the trees again. "Katniss?" I whisper, a slither of hope emerging in my voice. My heart races as my eyes search the darkness. Moonlight penetrates the dense canopy in small spotlights. Silence. The trees freeze, no longer swaying in the cool breeze. Cautiously, I turn and gaze at Beetee who stares at me. He sighs, a smile creeping onto his mouth. I feel a laugh escape my lips. Without warning, hands clap onto my shoulder. Big hands. Bigger than the likes of Johanna and Finnick.

I'm dragged back into the jungle and thrust to the floor. Four hands. Two men. Hard boots begin to kick me. I thrash out, shielding my face. My heart plummets to my stomach and my muscle slowly begin to contract. I'm powerless against their strength.

 "Peeta?" Katniss' voice whispers in my ears. The men hear it too. Their kicking ceases. My vision is blurry, blood rushing to my head. Knuckles clenching my shoulder blades, I'm forced to my feet. My knees buckle slightly as I blink, searching for any sign of Katniss in the darkness. Her whispering ceases too. She must be close. Eager to fight off my attackers, I move to throw a punch when strangely my arms are tightened behind me and my wrists are bound by handcuffs. In the near darkness, one man retrieves a cloth from his pocket. Before I can scream, to warn Katniss to run, the man thrusts the cloth in my face, over my nose and mouth. Suddenly, I'm inhaling. The scent is profound and renders me speechless. The last sound I hear is Katniss whispering my name. And then I'm unconscious.