THE HUNGER GAMES: the taste of Whiskey and Snow // CORIOLANUS SNOW

Nineteen

They ran as fast as they could through the city, trying to get to the station in time. Whiskey was running on pure adrenaline, trembling with step. She couldn't believe what she'd just done.

"I stabbed him," Whiskey said out loud in disbelief.

"It was out of self defence. I think he deserved it," Ratley puffed.

She slowed down, trying to stop herself from breaking down whilst running. Her breathing was raspy and jagged, fighting the tears. "Ratley, you don't understand. I stabbed him, a capital student of the academy."

"Like I said, he deserved-

"NO!" Whiskey grabbed his shoulders, begging him to understand. "I'm dead. He's going to hunt me down and kill me."

Ratley stayed silent, looking past her impatiently. "Whiskey, I know your upset, but we have to keep moving."

"I'm going to be hung. I'm dead. I'm basically already dead. They will find me. Even if I catch that train, they'll show up at my house. Kill my family... What do I do?!" Whiskey cried, pacing back and forth in the darkness.

Ratley sighed, "You were already dead, Whisk. Did you really think you were going to survive the Hunger Games tonight?"

"I-I don't know," she trembled, struggling to breath. "I-I I don't know. I wasn't supposed to go out this way..."

"If we catch that train now, we can have freedom. You can't stay here. Like you said, they'll kill you. We both know they will. This is the only way you'll be free. We have to go back home," he convinced her, knowing they didn't have a lot of time.

"Okay, fine," she whispered, wiping the tears.

-

Coriolanus sat with his bloody arm towards Dr Gaul. She painfully stitched up his stab wound.

"I can hear your anger from here," she pointed out with an amused tone.

"Sorry," he sighed, trying to act calmer.

"It's not a bad thing. Anger is a powerful tool when wielded correctly," she smirked, stabbing him with the needle.

Coriolanus flinched uncomfortably, clenching his fist in the pain. His eyes focused solely on the concrete corner of the room were a singed cobweb remained. He only imagined the blowtorch that killed the spider that climbed into her lab.

That was the thing about Dr Gaul. She got her power through destruction, which he gave her credit for. It was the fastest way to the top.

"Do you want me to make it go away? This problem of yours?" Dr Gaul suddenly asked. "I'll have her crawling back in no time, begging for forgiveness."

"How?" Coriolanus frowned, knowing it wasn't that easy.

"Do you want that Plinth Prize or not," She said bluntly. "I have the power to control. You'll learn that one day too, Snow. I plan for problems like hers. She is a mere speck in my domination. Now I'll ask you again, do you want me to make your problem go away?"

"Why would you help me?" He replied, well aware that trust wasn't found in the capital.

"Your little show with that lovebird created a stir. Even if it's all strategy, you seem to have the people quite hooked. People are entertained. They're watching the games. Bringing her back brings back the attention. And I'm sure you'd be grateful for that prize money," she smirked, wiping away a stream of blood from his arm.

"And of the hunger games? It's almost impossible to host them with all the tributes escaped," Snow pointed out. "It's supposed to be happening tonight."

"Nothing, including your lovebird, will ever get in the way of my games. They will continue tonight with each tribute rounded up, ready to learn a lesson for their rebellious behaviour."

-

Ratley and Whiskey ran from street to street, hiding from by-passers. They were practically at the station, just one street away, when suddenly, they heard gunshots and yelling.

Ratley turned the corner to see the train station swarming with peacekeepers.

"Oh no," he cursed, pushing whiskey and him out of their view.

The old light above the station shone on the peacekeepers rounding up each tribute, dragging them out of the train cart they'd planned to get away in. Half of the tributes were on their knees with guns to their head. Some were crying, others had a stone cold expression, realising they weren't going to get away.

"What are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to get home, rat?" Whiskey panicked, knowing the longer she stayed here, the sooner her consequences were going to catch up with her. "If they find me I'll die."

"Shhh, just shut up!" Ratley yelled in whispers, trying to plan ahead. He ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily.

Almost every street was marching with peacekeepers, searching for them. That train was their only way from the capital city back to their district. They had nowhere they could hide until morning without getting caught for the hunger games later that evening. From the looks of things, they had no plan left.

"I don't know," Ratley concluded, panicking. "I don't know, Whiskey! I don't know what to do. I'm not ready to die."

Whiskey's hope was crushed in an instant. How did she actually believe she was going to get out of here? She was trying to escape the capital city, with nothing except a bloody knife and a scared boy. The people she was going against had thousands of troops, and their own home turf. Nothing was fair.

Whiskey suddenly broke down, wishing she'd stayed with Coriolanus safely in the room. "Why'd you have to bring me into this?" She yelled at Ratley.

"What?! I was protecting you? I wasn't going to leave you with him to die!" He defended himself, appalled at her blame. "This isn't my fault!"

"Well, It's not my fault! You're the one who made me have to stab a mentor! If you didn't try and escape with me, I never would be in this situation. You should've left me to die!"

"Maybe I will next time!" He yelled back.

"I wish you did! I wish I was dead!" Whiskey admitted, feeling so tired of her constant battle. She'd been dragged around like a pony for a week now, waiting for her death. She just wanted it to come early. She was so damn tired. "But I can't. Because if I die now, they'll kill my family for what I did."