18 DAYS

Chapter 14: The Wound.

An overcraft appears in the distance, carrying away the body of the murdered. Once out of the Arena the Capitol will wash and dress it up nicely to be shipped back to their family. But no one is around to witness the funeral proceding.

Now entering the clearing, Cato and Clovee's attention is focused on the desolation spreading in front of them.

"Cato." The boy slowly lower his ally to the ground, letting Clove stand to carry her own weight of the devastation.

Nothing is left. Even from afar, the smoke is thick and the smell of scortched earth is overwhelming. Something has made the mines around camp detonate but it didn't just lift the ground around the cornucopia, it obliterated all the ressources. With it their chances to win.

"Cato."

Clove is clinging to his arm, warning for the next detonation to come. But Cato has already turned into a weapon, and it's loaded. Red painting the world in front of him, this time his mind doesn't go to a safe place.

This time most of his brain shuts down. All but the primitive side, the animal side*. It's the reptilian brain, the oldest part of human self. Participating in primitive drives - related to thirst, hunger, sexuality, and territoriality - it's duty is to control the body's vital functions such as heart rate, breathing, and body temperature.

Tapping into that while forgetting all the rest of himself, Cato functions raise exponatially, flirting with their breaking point. Burning up, rapid breathing and heart pumping like a bull entering a corrida with one primitive drive in mind: survive. Expect the matador is not the one raising the red flag, all he sees in his blood stained world is the boy from Three responsible for threatening Clove's chances at life.

A small part of Cato's sleeping mind is aware the kid is only responsible for putting the plan into motion. His plan, his fault. But all his reptilian brain has in mind is the face of that girl clinging to his arm with all her faith resting on his shoulders. The fact that those bombs anhilated her chances of being safe again.

So he pushes her away to reach for his sword. When his hand grab nothing but air, the distant memory of her weapon stuck into a dead boy's chest almost knock him back to his sense. But under the promise of madness, his empty palms don't become useless, they turn into possibilities.

"Stay." His tone is unequivocal.

"No! Cato !" Hers is terrified.

There is so much you can atone for in one life. Deeply Cato knows he would never have that chance. So he pushes Clove over and lundges forward. Taking away her chances to save him from saving her.

Dodging the craters left by the mines, the boy from Two dives and leaps to get to the mouth of the Cornucopia where he knows he'll find the only person that could fill the pit in his stomach by disapearing. Approaching by the left, the small brown haired boy appear. He has a spear in hand, but Cato doesn't even blink at that. In his small hands it looks like a twig pervious to the wind.

Instead, getting close, he shouts at him. Words probably meant to alleviate his soul, make what comes next more bareable. But Cato cannot hear anything he is saying, sentences condemning the innocent lost in the ears of a deadman. Or two.

Finally Clove reaches him, her face torn with despair in front of the havoc both around her and inside Cato. Just as she grabs him to hold him back, he snaps the neck of the District Three, killing him instantly. His body slumps to the ground like a rag doll.

Time stands still. Day 8 and for the first time, the clock of natural selection has come to a crashing halt. Turning the last two members of the 74th Hunger Games careers into will-less and speechless creatures more pointless than lifeless zombies.