Hunger Games 1

Chapter 48 Fighting (2)
My attention turns to Peeta, whose leg is bleeding profusely.All our gear was left by the lake while fleeing from the wild dogs.I didn't have a bandage to stop the blood gushing from his calf.Although I was shivering from the cold wind, I took off my jacket and shirt and put on my jacket.I took off my clothes, and my teeth chattered from the cold.

Peeta was pale in the moonlight, and I laid him down and inspected his wounds.Warm, slippery blood stained my hands.Just using a bandage to stop the bleeding is not enough.On a few occasions, I saw my mother use a tourniquet, and I followed her example to stop Peeta's bleeding.I tore off one sleeve of the shirt, wrapped it around his knee twice, and fastened the slip button.I had no stick, so I stuck the last arrow in the noose and tied it as tight as I could.It's a risk—Peeta might lose a leg—but do I have an alternative to losing my life?I wrapped his wounds in a shirt and lay down next to him.

"Don't sleep." I told him.I don't know if it's medically justified to do so, but I'm afraid that once he falls asleep, he won't wake up again.

"Are you cold?" he asked.He unzips and wraps me in his clothes.It's warmer this way, I'm wrapped in two jackets, and I can warm each other, and it feels a little warmer.But the night is still long and the temperature keeps dropping.The Horn of Zeus, which was hot when I first climbed up during the day, has slowly become cold now.

"Gato might win," I whisper to Peeta.

"Don't believe this," he said, pulling my hood up, but he was shaking harder than I was.

The next few hours were the most difficult of my life.The cold was already excruciatingly painful, and the real nightmare was listening to Cato's groans, pleadings, and finally the cries of the wild dogs as they tormented him.After a while, I felt like I didn't care who he was or what he did, all I wanted was for his pain to end as quickly as possible.

"Why don't they kill him?" I ask Peeta.

"You know why," he said, pulling me closer to him.

Yes, I understand.Viewers are reluctant to move away from the TV right now.From the perspective of the contest organizers, this is the culmination of this entertainment.

This pain has been going on without a break, it's mentally tormenting me, I don't think about tomorrow, I don't think about hope, I don't have the past anymore, all memory is erased, only the present is filling my brain, and it seems to me Nothing will ever change, nothing but the cold, the fear and the howling of the dying boy.

Peeta starts to drift off to sleep.I yelled his name out loud over and over because if he died next to me, I'd be completely insane.He is also trying to persevere, not so much for himself, but more for me.It's hard because losing consciousness is a way out of all this pain.But the adrenaline in my body would never allow me to go with him, so I didn't let him go.I can not!

Only the moon, the slow-moving star high in the sky, proves that time flows.Peeta told me the night would pass because the moon was moving; sometimes, I seemed to see a glimmer of hope, only to be swallowed up by the cold night.

Finally, I heard him whisper that the sun was coming up.I opened my eyes and saw the stars fading in the morning light.I also saw how pale Peeta's face was.His time was running out.I know I'm sending him back to the Capitol.

Still no cannon was heard.I put my good ear to the horn of Zeus, and faintly heard Cato's groan.

"I think he's dying, Katniss, can you shoot him?" Peeta asked.

If he had been near the mouth of the Horn of Zeus, I might have shot him, but it was a mercy to shoot him as it was.

"My last arrow is on your tourniquet," I said.

"Let it work as it should," Peeta said.He unzipped it and let me take it out.

I pulled the arrow out and refastened the tourniquet as best I could with stiff fingers.I rub my hands together to get the blood flowing.I climb to the edge and look down, Peeta grabbing me from behind.

It was a while before I saw Cato covered in blood in the dim light, and then I heard a little sound from the huge, one-time enemy.I know his location.I think he meant to say, "Help me."

Out of pity, not revenge, I shot an arrow into his skull.Peeta pulled me back, the bow still in my hand, but no arrows.

"Did you shoot him?" he asked softly.

The cannon fires to answer for us.

"So we win, Katniss," he said, his voice hollow.

"Let's cheer," I finally said, but there was no triumph in it.

The hole in the clearing was wide open, and the remaining wild dogs slipped through it, and the ground was closed.

We waited for the helicopter to drag Gato's body away, and for the horn of victory to sound, but nothing happened.

"Hey," I yelled at Sora, "what's going on?" The only response was the chirping of morning birds.

"Maybe because of the body, we should go," Peeta said.

I try my best to remember.Do you need to stay away from the corpse of the last "tribute" after the final victory.But my mind was in a mess and I couldn't be sure.If not, what other reasons are there?

"Well, do you think you can walk to the lake?" I asked.

"I'll try," Peeta said.Little by little we reached the edge of the Horn and tumbled to the ground.How can Peeta move if my body is so stiff?I stood up first, stretched my arms and legs, and didn't reach out to pull Peeta until I felt I could help Peeta.We made our way to the lake with difficulty.I first hold a handful of water for Peeta to drink, and then hold the water to my mouth.

Tears of relief filled my eyes as a mockingbird uttered a low, long chirp and the helicopters appeared to collect Gatto's body.Now they can take us away, now we can go home.However, there was no movement again.

"What are they waiting for?" Peeta said weakly.Losing the effect of the tourniquet, and coming to the lake from the horn of Zeus, his wound opened again.

"I don't know," I said.Whatever their reasons for doing it, I can't watch Peeta bleed anymore.I got up to look for a stick, and soon found the arrow that had bounced off Cato.This arrow works just as well as the other.I leaned over to pick up the arrow as Claudius Templesmith's voice sounded in the arena.

"Greetings to the final contestant of the No.70 [-]th Hunger Games. The originally changed rules were declared invalid. After careful study of the game rules, it was decided that only one player could win. Good luck, and may opportunities be with you forever. "

After a few seconds of static, everything fell silent.I just stared at Peeta, unable to believe my ears.They never wanted either of us alive.It's all a gimmick designed by the contest organizers to ensure the most dramatic plot in the contest's history.But I, like a fool, bought their account.

"Thinking about it, it's not too surprising." He spoke in a weak voice.I watched him struggle to stand up.Then walking towards me, as if in slow motion, he drew the knife from his waist—

I subconsciously bent my bow and set an arrow, aiming at his heart.Peeta raised his eyebrows and threw the knife into the lake, where it made a splash.I dropped the bow in my hand and took a step back, my face flushed with shame.

"No," he said, "shoot." Peeta limped up to me and put the bow back in my hand.

"I can't," I said, "I can't."

"Before they let the wild dogs out, shoot, I don't want to die like Cato," he said.

"Then you shoot me." I said emotionally, and put the bow into his hand. "You shoot me and go home and live your life!" I said that knowing that death was the easier choice for both of us.

"You know I can't," Peeta said, dropping the weapon.

"Well, I'll always go first." He sat down and removed the bandages from his legs, removing the last barrier that kept the blood from gushing out.

"No, you don't want to kill yourself like this," I said, kneeling in front of him, trying to put the bandage on his leg.

"Katniss," he said, "this is what I want."

"You can't leave me here alone," I said.Because he's dead, I can never go home, can't really go home.I will stay in the arena for the rest of my life, thinking about this mystery that will never be solved.

"Listen," he said, pulling me up, "we both know they only want one winner, and we can only choose one of the two of us, please make a choice, for me." He confessed his love for me again. Love, how boring life is without me, but I stopped listening, the few words he said earlier echoed in my mind.

"We all know they just want one winner."

Yes, they must have a winner, otherwise, the competition organizers will be slapped in the face in public.All the Capitols would be disappointed and maybe executed, slowly and painfully, while the whole thing would be televised live across the country.

If Peeta and I both die, or if they think we both...

I reached for the leather pouch pinned to my waist and took it off.Peeta saw the leather bag and grabbed my wrist. "No, I won't let you die."

"Trust me." I said softly.He stared at me blankly, and after a while, he let go of his hand.I opened the leather pouch and poured a handful of berries into his hand, and then some into my own.

"Shall we count to three?"

Peeta leans down, kisses me again, and says softly, "On the count of three."

We stood back to back with our hands clasped tightly together.

"Hands up for all to see," he said.

I held up my hand, and the black berries glistened in the sun.I squeezed Peeta's hand again, as a signal, also as a farewell, and we counted, "One"—maybe I'm wrong, "Two"—maybe we're both going to die, "Three!"— — It's too late to change your mind.I put my hand to my mouth and take one last look at the world.I had just put the berries in my mouth when the horn sounded.

Claudius Templesmith panicked, "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce No. 70 winners of the four Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mylark! Winner from District [-]!"

(End of this chapter)