Defying the Odds (The 4th Quarter Quell) [The Hunger Games Fanfiction]

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Asher

A cold gust of wind blows across my cheek and I shiver against the freezing air. My eyes open despite my desire to keep dreaming and pretend that Layla and I are somewhere else, somewhere safe. The bright light is almost blinding and it takes my eyes more than a few seconds to focus. When they do, they zero in on Layla crouched near the tent’s entrance, a knife in her hand.

Just as I’m about to pull her body aside and hide her behind me, she shushes me. I can’t help thinking the worst in this moment and suddenly, I’m consumed by the horrifying thought of Layla, pale and cold, blood surrounding her lifeless body. I shake my head as I try to forget what my mind forced onto me. I focus on Layla, instead, making sure she’s bright and alive and mine.

“Don’t say anything, Asher.” She says, her voice so quiet I can barely make it out.  “Don’t move.”

I want to ask her why. I want to get her away from that opening. I want—no, I need—to protect her. But before I can do anything, she leaps from the tent and into the snow outside.

Before I know what I’m doing, I grab the backpack and sling it onto my shoulders. My ax is clutched in my right hand and I’m running out of the tent. My breath catches in my throat when I steal a glimpse of the threat, the reason Layla is putting herself in danger. A bear. A huge, angry bear.

I watch just as Layla hurls a knife into the bear’s neck. It sinks deep, the entire blade piercing through fur and skin. The bear growls, a sound that resonates deep in my bones. Layla looks back at me then, her eyes wide…she doesn’t have any more knives, I realize.

“Duck!” I yell, my eyes meeting hers. As soon as her head is out of the way, I hurl my ax into the bear’s chest and watch as the bear falls to the ground.

I run to Layla and hold her face in my hands. My eyes rake over her body, hands, face, to make sure she isn’t injured. But she runs from me as her gaze focuses on something—someone—behind me. I turn around in time to see her pull her knife from the bear’s throat and run straight to the District One tribute, a career, Gemino.

Gemino reaches out to grab her, but his hands barely brush her skin as she stabs the knife into his side. He falls instantaneously and a cannon booms only a few seconds later. I run to her, grabbing my ax from the bear’s dead body, but someone—Brennan—reaches her before I can. My eyes widen in horror and my heart skips a beat as Brennan presses a blade to her throat.

“Move and she dies,” He spits in my direction. I freeze in place.

What do I do? I ask myself frantically.

In my peripheral, I can see more tributes—careers—coming to flank Brennan and I know I can’t win this fight… especially not with that knife so close to her throat.

My eyes dart back to Layla’s and I find them as frantic and desperate as mine.

‘Go!’ Her eyes scream at me. But I shake my head at her.

‘I won’t leave you! I can’t!’ My eyes yell back.

My vision blurs. I don’t realize my eyes are filling with tears until they spill over and roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away quickly before anyone notices. My mind is split in two: One half—the logical half—is yelling at me to run, get as far away from here as possible; but the other half—the one my heart listens to—is begging me to stay, to find a way to grab Layla and kill Brennan for laying his filthy hands on her.

I want, more than anything, to save her from this mess, to kill anyone who has ever thought of hurting her. But it’s hard to think straight when she’s so close—inches—from…death. A chill runs down my spine when I think the word.