Timber

Chapter Thirteen: Midnight Arrival

Silus, picking up on Hazel's sudden change in demeanor whispered, "What's wrong?" His voice, though low, was tinged with concern. Hazel frantically tried to clean off the blood, rubbing it against her skirt. The dark red stain smeared but didn't come off completely. She looked up at Silus, her green eyes reflecting a mix of worry and frustration. "Nothing, just... you're bleeding, don't you feel it?" she said in a hushed tone, glancing around.

His eyes widened as they moved to their intertwined hands, the sight of his own blood against her pale skin. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath.

He attempted to pull his hand away, but Hazel held on tighter. "Don't," she insisted. "It'll just draw more attention." She continued to try to clean the blood with the hem of her skirt, her movements quick and discreet. "I'm not the only one who noticed." Nodding her head toward the peacekeeper, the one with the distinct amber hair and piercing gray eyes.

She maneuvered their intertwined hands in the folds of her skirt, attempting to conceal the incriminating evidence of Silus's injury. Her movements were deliberate, careful to not attract unwanted attention.

As they boarded the bus, Hazel couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The peacekeeper's gaze seemed to burn into her back. Hazel chose a seat towards the back, sliding in beside Silus. She leaned close to the window, hoping the dim light and distance would obscure them from view.

She could feel the eyes of the other tributes on them as well, curious, calculating.

Every so often, Hazel stole glances at the peacekeeper, noticing how his eyes would occasionally meet hers in the bus's rearview mirror.

As twilight's embrace tightened, casting deepening shadows inside the bus, Hazel worked discreetly to clean their hands with her skirt. The dimming light played to their advantage, veiling their actions in semi-darkness.

"I'm sorry, Hazel. I didn't realize I was squeezing so hard," Silus murmured, his gaze fixed on the peacekeeper who had taken an unsettling interest in them.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered back, her eyes scanning the interior of the bus. "It's getting dark. Hopefully, he was the only one who noticed. We'll know tomorrow if it makes the news."

She carefully examined Silus's hand, noting the raw, re-opened wound. The skin around it was inflamed. "We need to get this cleaned properly," she said, a hint of urgency in her voice. "An infection is the last thing we need, especially in your axe-throwing hand."

"He's still watching us," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the peacekeeper.

Hazel glanced briefly at the peacekeeper, meeting his steady, scrutinizing look. She then turned back to Silus, "Just ignore him. Act like nothing's wrong. We've already caught his eye more than we should have."

The bus lurched forward, the vibrant lights of the Capitol city blurring into streaks of color as they sped past. The journey from the bustling heart of the Capitol to its outskirts felt surreal. As the bus wound its way to their destination, a heavy silence enveloped the tributes. Each seemed lost in their own thoughts, collectively detaching from the reality of their situation in a quiet, somber reflection.

The bus eased through the gates of a grand building that loomed large even in the darkness. Surrounded by a towering brick wall, it exuded an air of faded grandeur.

As they passed under the archway, Hazel glimpsed the name 'Castellan' etched into the brickwork. The Castellans were a family once revered in the Capitol. 'Clearly not anymore' she thought.

The bus came to a halt, and peacekeepers swiftly ushered the tributes off. They were surrounded by a foreboding presence of cameras and armed guards, every movement closely monitored. The manor itself, bathed in the soft glow of outdoor lighting, revealed a facade of ornate windows and ivy-clad walls.