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HER whole body was in survival mode, and she wasn't quite sure how to turn it off.
Bex tore through the jungle, cutting down branches and leaves that got in the way with her axe. She kept moving, even as her lungs felt like they were going to give out the longer she went. She just needed to keep running. A whisper of wind hurled her forward and begged her to never stop. Bex breathed heavily through her mouth and continued, her wet ponytail slapping against the nape of her neck.
Her foot caught onto a root hidden beneath the moist soil below. Bex lost her balance and tripped, somersaulting across the dirt and hurtling deeper in the jungle. She spat out soil and sat up on her knees. Her hands curled into the dirt and she began to rock back and forth, breathing loudly. That's all she needed to do. She needed to hear herself breathe, remind herself that she was still here.
She was no longer drowning. She was alive.
Bex tilted her face up and felt a few dew drops trickle down her cheeks. She exhaled again, and everything began to feel lighter. Wiping the back of her hand against her mouth, Bex looked down at her axe, which flew back a foot away when she fell. With a groan, she stood up and grabbed for it, fingers latched onto the leather handle.
Something rustled in the distance. She saw a flash of black up ahead.
Bex stood up straighter, holding the axe out in front of her. She traveled further into the jungle. Creatures howled from the treetops. They sounded like monkeys. But what Bex had seen in the trees wasn't an animal. It looked human.
She took off into a sprint, veering right, the same direction the figure went. Within seconds, she was body slamming into someone else. They both crashed to the earth below, eyes meeting as they both sat up.
Shaggy, black hair covered his soot-colored irises. His lips wobbled with fear and anguish. Blood leaked from a deep wound on his leg. Bex blinked, trying to focus on his face. It was one of the morphlings – the male tribute from District Six.
