After The Storm (A Hunger Games Fanfic)

The Sickle and the Axe - 9

Mercedes spits into the path behind her. The sickle swings from her palm - Martin insisted that she take it with her - and every so often it cuts into her leg. She can feel blood trickling down her knee.

"Fuck you," she swears over her shoulder, but quietly in case he's following just out of sight and can hear her, "Fuck you, you can't fucking tell me what to do!" Yes, she's bringing the sickle like he told her to, but that's because she doesn't want to be attacked and at least wants to be able to fight people off. Although the stupid thing is causing her more pain than it's causing anybody else.

"Stupid fucking Games," she growls under her breath, "Stupid fucking Gamemakers. Stupid fucking Capitol. Stupid..."

Movement.

Directly in front of her.

Shit.

Martin jumps to his feet as soon as he hears the yelling, his heart pounding in his throat. Mercedes! The stupid girl has gone and got herself into trouble! He casts around for the sickle; it's not here! Of course not. Mercedes has it, a small mercy at least. Hopefully she'll be able to fend off her attacker until he can get there and do...something.

The blow gun is on the floor next to him; he snatches it up. Maybe the darts aren't loaded - they don't look to be - but it might make a good distraction and anyway, he doesn't have time to load them. What if he's too slow? What if he's going to be too late?

"Fuck off...and leave...me alone!"

He has to stifle a laugh as he runs, his feet catching in roots, the scenery streaking past him quicker than it ever has in his life, the wind hitting his face. Even now Mercedes is herself. And she doesn't sound hurt.

Thinking only about running as fast as he can, he stumbles straight into a fight.

Mercedes has no idea what she's doing, only that she has to try and get out of the way of the flashing blade that the soppy prat from Seven is wielding. She lashes out with the sickle, trying to keep him back, but it comes nowhere near him; she'll have to get closer if she wants to injure him.

Rafe swings desperately, his eyes wide and wild. The girl keeps just ducking, just dodging, and she spits swearwords at him with every movement, her plaits flying around her head. He doesn't want this. But if he doesn't kill her now...

Mercedes throws herself to one side with a gasp as the man clasps the axe in both hands and brings it down, as if to split her head in two. She feels a whoosh as the blade slices through the air and the man topples, stumbling forwards, but she hits the floor hard and when she's finished rolling and has sprung back to her feet, he has too...

Do something! Martin's arms and legs itch to do something, anything, but his hands and feet are frozen with fear. He can barely follow the fight; there's a swing, a cry, Mercedes falls to one side. He gasps aloud but she's not injured, she was just dodging the boy, who is darting to his feet with the axe in one hand - he must be strong - and his expression dazed. A heartbeat's pause, then the boy swings again and Mercedes swears - "Shit!" - and ducks under him, and the sickle is by her side but she's not using it, or at least not getting close enough to him.

"Stay still!" Rafe splutters, his breath coming hard, "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Like fuck!" the girl spits back foully, "Why are you...swinging a...fucking axe at me...if you...don't want...to hurt me?" With every pause is another swing, another duck, and he can see that she's getting tired now and she won't be able to keep it up, and he has to stay back because she's got a sickle and that could hurt and his baby needs him.

His baby. He has a baby. A family.

Strength flows into his arms; his lungs don't hurt anymore, and he's not hungry or tired.