PLATINUM • THE HUNGER GAMES ²

| 22. SCORCHED & SILENT

BOOK TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

( SCORCHED & SILENT )

IF THERE WERE EVER A TIME AND PLACE for apologies, it certainly wasn't then. Finnick and Johanna were sprawled out across the sand in exhaustion with Beetee crouched nearby, painted with a look of desperation and sorrow. I sat, quietly reminiscent of the pervious events, with a plain expression forcibly pressed onto my head — possibly thinking about what just happened; definitely thinking of what was about to happen. The shade cowered above us as we conversed our plan, sketching out maps, and monsters, and trees, and shorelines to protect ourself from the dangers and treachery the arena contain for us to prey upon.

     "So besides Brutus and Enobaria, who's left?" Katniss piped up, adding some lines to the sand map like an army general planning a public slaughter.

     "Maybe Chaff," Peeta said, reminding us of the District Eleven Victor still roaming around the mysteries of the rainforest. "Just those three."

     "They know they're outnumbered. I doubt they'll attack again," Finnick replied, leaning tentatively on a loose branch that stretched over toward my head as the sand brushed against my feet. "We're safe here on the beach."

     "So what do we do now?" I asked.

     "We hunt 'em down?" Johanna said with perhaps a little too much excitement in her eyes. Everybody seemed to disagree with her wild idea, looking back at the sand map with confusion and hope buried into the backs of our minds. If we were going to escape the stalemate we needed to do it fast, otherwise the Capitol would send an even larger threat our way. And I was certain I couldn't deal with any more surprises.

     That was before a little girl's scream echoed through the arena and it all descended into chaos.

     Chasing after Katniss' delusional rage wasn't as easy as it may sound. As we sprint into the vines, leaves and trees lost in the forest, my heart began to beat furiously like a ceremonial drum. Katniss was the Mockingjay and I was the fox, racing after the thought of my next chance at survival slip away slowly. As much as I hated to admit it, we needed her in this operation. And, if what Haymitch said to me was the truth, we could all have gotten out of there alive — facing the next day as it came, no matter what the consequences. But then, as the green envy of the foliage encapsulated her and the only one physically fit enough to run after her was Finnick, the rest of us slowed in agony, affected by one wound or another; jogging behind the winners with blood in our throats and stones pressed on our hearts.