𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝑨𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑼𝒔

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 - 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈

"Snow, wake up." A voice prodded, shaking his shoulder.

"Let me sleep," He grumbled, rolling over to his left.

"Snow," The voice firmly, "I think I hear a train."

The train! Snow woke up, almost bashing heads with Prong. "It's here? What are you doing? Pack the bags!"

Prong nodded before picking up his blanket and folding it into a roll. Snow indeed heard the train's horn and the rushing on the tracks, inching closer and closer. He reached down to help the boy. "We need to hurry, pick up the pace!" 

Snow shoved Prong aside as he stuffed anything he saw into his bag. After the two finished packing, they pulled the wires out of the tent.

"Perfect timing," Prong said, wiping the sweat above his eyebrow, the sun beating down on him.

The train horn rooted louder and louder, and the screeches against the rail echoed in the air. As the train came into view, Snow picked up his bag, nudging Prong to do the same. 

When the train was right in front of them, not waiting for them to hop on, Snow jumped into an empty cart, extending a hand to Prong. 

"Hurry! The train won't stop for you!" Snow shouted over the wind, whipping some of his hair in his face.

Prong broke into a run, trying to balance the bag on his shoulder. Black hair covering his eyes, he was running blindly. "Help! Wait!"

Snow let out a huff before hopping off the train and grabbing Prong's bag. "Come on you, didn't they do physical activities in the academy?"

"Not running after a train no!" Prong shouted back.

Snow ignored the comment and grabbed Prong's arm, sprinting after the cart he had left his supplies in.

Prong grabbed onto a ladder, struggling to hold on. Snow ran faster and back into the cart he had been in earlier, then extended his hand. "Grab on!" 

Prong tried to look up, the wind blowing into his eyes. "I can't! I can't see!"

"Listen to my voice!" Snow shouted again, grabbing on the edge and sliding his feet off. "Do you see my hand?"

A hand appeared in Prong's view, he nodded as he grabbed it. Then his fingers slipped, dangling his feet above the fast-paced ground. "I can't grab on! The train's too fast!"

Snow grunted as he tried to walk closer to the edge of the train cart. "Try again!"

"I'm not risking my life over a train, Snow!" Prong shouted.

Snow carefully entered back into the cart, wind roaring in his ears. He looked around the cart, examining anything that would help him.

"Hurry! We're nearing a bridge!" Prong said, noticing the floor below was disappearing in a few miles.

"I'm trying!" Snow grabbed some old clothes that reeked of who knows what, and tied them together, making a makeshift rope. He then walked back toward the edge of the cart into the same position as before, but this time with a rope.

"Do you see it?" He shouted.

"See what?" Prong squinted his eyes as a rope came into view. The smell hit him like a brick wall. "What is that smell?!"

"Do you want to live or not?" Snow shouted, tying the rope toward a nearby pole that held the train door open. It was risky but it was worth a shot, even if it meant to save the boy.

Prong reluctantly tried, his hand struggling to grab onto the rope. 

I can't go like this, not when I have so much to finish. Not when I need to find the rebels who killed my brother. 

The sun seemed to shine brighter, brighter than usual. Maybe his mother was right when she said to stick to academics. To stick to becoming a scholar. Maybe if he just jumped, it would end the pain faster than struggling to live. Struggling to live in this cruel world that gave him no justice.

"Grab the rope!" A voice shouted, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

But I'm not done yet. He gritted his teeth and tried to grab onto the swaying rope, nausea creeping into him. His hand eventually found it, and relief flooded his veins.

"Tie it to the railing if you can!"

Prong let out a deep breath before grabbing onto the rope and hooking it around the pole. It was a risk he was willing to take, hopefully, the clothes would be strong enough to support his weight. He let out a prayer before carefully tying the rope to his right wrist. He would have to tie a knot around the pull, but he could also die doing so.

The edge was nearing closer and panic settled in. Prong let his body flop to the ground, his body inches away from the fast-paced ground. He grit his teeth as he used all his muscles to tie a knot, looping it under his right hand and onto the pole. 

Once he made sure it was sturdy, he noticed a small railing at the bottom of the train that he could step on. Prong checked that the rail was secure with a few prodding from his foot before making his way toward the cart.

"You got it?!" Snow asked, peaking his head out. "The rope won't hold for long, hurry!"

Prong took another step, legs shaking. When he took another, the pipe below him began to shudder and broke.

Prong looked up, meeting Snow's eye for a second before the wind carried him away, his hand still connected to the rope.

Snow shouted something, and tugged on the rope, trying to signal to Prong about something. Whatever he was trying to do, it hadn't worked and Prong was still falling. To his death.

He watched where the grass and rocks stopped, chugging closer to the bridge. A light suddenly lightened his eyes and his brother's arms welcomed him, giving him a tight hug. He felt the fanfare of trumpets blast as he smiled, accepting his fate.