A Knife in the Dark | ✓

Twenty Eight

Nightfall. The cameras' focus was only on Cato, the moonlight giving his eyes an unearthly gleam that screamed non compos mentus. He had no weapons, or so it seemed. I could see the hilt of his sword peeking out from his jacket. His hands were empty.

He stood, waiting. Watching. This was it. Something in me was screaming the end, it's come, it's here. Another part of me was saying, take a good look. This is the last time you'll see him intact.

A growl sounded behind him. He turned his head, still watching the clearing. The growl sounded louder, closer. I couldn't see anything, but I could see Cato's eyes. I watched them widen. He turned, sprinting into the darkness.

The focus changed to Katniss and Peeta. The birds in the trees were singing a complex melody. Katniss sat in the darkness, a breeze stirring the hair that had slipped free of her braid, her eyes shut. The music was suddenly cut off by the birds shrieking. Katniss opened her eyes, and she and Peeta shot to their feet, weapons at the ready. Cato burst through the trees, eyes not seeing Katniss and Peeta. He hadn't been running long, but I'd never seen him run so fast. Whatever was chasing him, he was terrified of it.

Katniss shot an arrow at his chest. Saylee flinched, but the arrow bounced off.

"He's got some kind of body armor!" Katniss shouted, right before Cato was on them. He either didn't hear them or didn't care, because if he had, he would've made some sarcastic comment as he was running. He ran between them, not pausing, not slowing. Katniss and Peeta stood, scanning the woods, searching in confusion.

The first mutt appeared, an ugly, hellhound-like beast. The District Twelve tributes turn and ran, stumbling, after Cato.

✗

Cato sprinted towards the Cornucopia, his line of thought logical: get to higher ground that they can't reach. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of pride. All that time spent pushing him at the survival stations had paid off. If he were to die, it wouldn't be at the hands of the mutts.

Katniss's hands had just brushed against the dark metal of the Cornucopia when she remembered Peeta, hobbling not far behind her, barely able to keep ahead of the mutts. She shot into the pack, took one down, but there were too many. She didn't have enough arrows.

Peeta yelled at her to climb, and we got an aerial view of the Cornucopia. Cato leaned over the side, retching, trying to catch his breath. Katniss climbed fast. She loaded an arrow and aimed at Cato, but Peeta cried out, and she turned and fired the arrow meant for Cato into the pack below. He climbed as well, and Katniss pulled him up when he was close enough.

Cato stabbed down with his sword, taking out a mutt. He shouted something at them, but it was unintelligible over the sound of the mutts' growls. Katniss and Peeta each said something, but nothing of what they said was decipherable.

While Katniss and Peeta struggled with the mutts, Cato pulled himself together. He grabbed Peeta, holding him in a headlock near the edge, cutting off his air. His sword was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on, Cato." Saylee hissed under her breath, fists clenched (one was wrapped around the throat of a stuffed animal she was holding. I scooted a little away from her, hugging the bear that Cato had brought me from the Capitol so long ago). "Kill him already. Toss him to the mutts. Do something."

Katniss pointed an arrow at Cato's head. Her eyes were on Peeta, weakly clawing at Cato's arm.

Cato just laughed. It wasn't the laugh I knew--this one was cruel, grating. This was not Cato. This was the monster he fought so hard to hide. "Shoot me and he goes down with me."

A stalemate. Peeta was slowly dying of asphyxiation, and his plan was obvious--let Peeta suffocate, then use him as a shield. Then, kill Katniss. A good plan. Not the best, but good enough. It would do.

But it wouldn't.

Peeta raised his blood-soaked hand to Cato's arm once more. But he didn't grab onto Cato. Instead, he painted something on the back of his hand in blood: an X.

Cato, Katniss, Jake, Saylee, and I realized what it meant at the same moment. Cato's triumphant grin dropped. But it was too late.

Katniss released the arrow, and it hit its mark, as it always had. Saylee let out a cry that was perfectly synced with Cato's. I watched, helpless, as he released Peeta. Peeta slammed into him, knocking him backwards, and Katniss dove forward, grabbing Peeta.

The horn, slick with Peeta's blood, made Cato lose his footing. He hit the ground so hard, I could hear the breath leave him on impact.

Jake, Saylee, and I sat, listening to the second of silence in the arena, holding our breath.

The mutts pounced.