Nothing Personal

Found - 15

Meridan was getting jumpy. Grace reckoned that he struggled to stay in any one place for very long, like she imagined most people from District Four. Either that or he had a kind of intuition for when the cannons went off; ever since the one this morning he'd been darting from one window to another, glaring out of it for a few minutes before racing to another one. Just watching him was making her feel dizzy. She'd given up on trying to follow him and instead sat down under the stairs, fretting that someone outside would see him at the windows or hear his loud footsteps; since he couldn't hear them he wouldn't know how impossibly noisy he was.

Right now he was traipsing across the landing above her head, his clunky footsteps so loud she thought the stairs might cave in on top of her. They couldn't stay hidden here forever. Meridan would drive her crazy and their food supplies, mostly tins of stuff from the cupboards with the occasional piece of fruit, were low already. But the Careers were outside.

Meridan thudded down the stairs and tugged on her arm. Grace looked up at him with big, scared eyes. She looked like an elf, or a pixie or some other kind of mystical small creature that was ingrained in the folklore of District Four, without wings. For some reason that eluded Meridan, his district was slightly obsessed with giving everything fins or wings. Sometimes both, with disastrous consequences. Well, fins he could understand, but wings? Nobody from Four had ever flown anywhere.

He pulled on her arm again, pointing up the stairs and trying to make himself look as urgent as possible.

He was pulling faces at her, his eyes bugging out of his head. Clearly something was seriously wrong. Her stomach twisted, imagining all kinds of scenarios which mostly culminated in her lying on the floor in a lot of pain with the sick Careers laughing down at her.

Well, three of them.

He tugged her up the stairs so sharply that she nearly lost her footing and stumbled. Some genius had decided to make them out of smooth wood and her shoes had nearly no grip, but somehow she made it to the top without injury. Without even pausing for breath, Meridan pulled her into one of  the bedrooms and took up his post at the window.

The room was a mess, clothes scattered everywhere. They looked like standard fare for District Five, mostly simple monotone clothes without any fuss. The bed was still upright, but all the covers had been torn off it and strewn over the floor. The wallpaper had been scratched off the walls, but badly, and lurid pink traces still remained. Only the curtains looked right. It reminded Grace of a house that had been robbed.

Meridan gestured for her to go to the window. She clambered cautiously over the mess and peered out, ready to dart behind the curtains if anyone looked at her.

There was nobody there. Just the street, with blood splattered sickeningly in the middle of the road. Grace thought there were flies crawling over it, or she was just dizzy. Everything wobbled slightly. She turned to look at Meridan. He was staring intently up a tree growing from the corner of the hedges.

Grace followed his eye level and fell backwards in shock.

Oak was perched in the tree, looking out over the road. He was close enough that she could hit him with a rock.

How had he not heard Meridan's frantic running? Quickly, she stood back up and tugged the curtains in front of the window and pushed Meridan to the ground. He glared at her indignantly.

She shook her head.

He tapped his hand to the right side of his chest. She had no idea what that meant, but judging by the look on his face it was something bad.

She shrugged. He sighed and pointed from him to her. "Allies?" she guessed in a low whisper. He just gazed at her blankly. She had no idea how to sign it and decided to assume that she was right. She shook her head again.