lost | the hunger games

• xvi •

❝suffer. you could say it means endure, but that's not exactly right.❞

cadence sinclair eastman, we were liars

☾

As I expected, sleep never came for me, but the fog did. It crept in slowly, weaving itself between the trees, covering every square inch of the mossy ground like a carpet. I was already alert, sitting up and tracing the edge of my scythes when Katniss and I noticed it. We exchanged similar looks of caution. Katniss reached out to touch the fog, and I readied my small knife for whatever was going to emerge from it. But then her fingers seared red and bubbled, and the scream that she emitted made me realize that there was no weapon in the fog. The fog was the weapon.

Everdeen's scream was enough to wake the other two up. Finnick immediately raised his trident, but I grabbed him and pulled him out of the shelter before he could realize there was no target. Katniss and Peeta ran close ahead of us, while we ran behind, covering their backs. The fog moved quickly, curling at our feet. When it wrapped around my ankle I screamed, and Finnick gripped my hand to drag me faster. The fog must've closed in on their side, because I could hear cries of agony come from both of them.

I quickly darted my vision to Peeta, who was struggling to keep up. He seemed to slightly limp, his leg dragging just a bit. Shit. I forgot about his prosthetic limb. I let go of Finnick's wrist and run over to the struggling pair. Katniss seemed to have the same idea I did, swinging his right arm around her neck as I did with his left.

The fog stayed right on our tail; whisps of it burned the back of my neck and my arms. I could feel my movements become more sluggish with every sting. My blood pounded in my ears as we ran, death trailing us. I cried out, and my pain seemed to harmonize with my allies. Finnick stayed just the tiniest bit ahead of us, trying to find a way out while the three of us supported each other.

"My . . . face—" Peeta called. I turned to him and was startled by the sight of his entire left side of his face sagging. I cringed at the sight of the limp skin, bubbled and red.

I didn't understand why his skin was reacting that way until Katniss cried out, "The nerves! It's targeting our nerves!"

Makes sense. The arm supporting Peeta had begun to lose feeling as well. It was just my hand holding onto his wrist that kept him supported on my side. Everything burned.

Then the fog started closing in on us on both sides. Katniss cried out as the fog enveloped her shoulder. I tried to hold back a scream of my own, as pain shot up my left leg. I stopped myself from screwing my eyes shut in agony. Peeta's weight was too much.

He took a gruesome fall as his prosthetic limb became almost completely useless. We both fell with him, and the fog came over us. This time, I did scream, and the acid seeped into my mouth, closing up my throat and searing me from the inside out.

"Get up!" Finnick yelled. "We have to keep moving, come on! Let me take Peeta—Pallas you gotta let go so I can take him!"

I hated to admit it to myself, but I wasn't strong enough, or tall enough to continue supporting Peeta. So I didn't argue with Finnick as he leaned over to grab Peeta's arm. I rolled away and forced myself off my feet. Katniss and Finnick both lifted Peeta up with groans. I could see his skin bubbling up from where I was standing. I took my scythes from my sheaths and cut a path out of the jungle. The fog seemed to slow in front of us barely, like a path being lit up out of here.

But just as the thought passed, a wall of fog shot from the left, and I stumbled, rolling back on my shoulder. One of my scythes was left to the fog in the process, and I had to leave it behind. Despite everything and all the chaos, I felt a way of irritation flow through me at the loss of my scythe. There was a spark of grief somewhere in there, but I didn't have time to consider it. As I pushed up from the ground, I pushed down whatever feeling distracted me.