The Hunger Games: Wroetostar, Merome, Pooflan & Minizerk

⫷Chapter 27⫸

Rob's P.O.V.

My body shook as the temperature dropped, not because of the cold, no, it was warm with both boys pressed up against me, but because of shock and grief. In the space of a few days I had witnessed the deaths of two boys- both young, scared and suffering- and it was because of my hand that they were dead. Logically I knew they would have died anyway but the grief and mourning was stronger. I couldn't think straight.

Preston and Lachlan slept soundly, tucked up against me with their arms tight around me too. Preston was pressed right up against my back, one of his hands resting lightly on my waist as a simple indicator that he was there, he was right beside me. Lachlan was tucked in a little ball in front of me, despite being almost my height, his head pressed in my shoulder and his hands curled up in front of his face. It was comforting knowing they were both there, but I still couldn't sleep.

The evening before 3 faces had appeared in the sky of the dead, one of the two remaining careers girls, the boy from 8- Lachlan's face fell when he saw that boy and I quickly realised it was because his ally was someone Lachlan either knew or cared about, the boy from 11- and the boy I had killed. My hands shook.

I think the other boys could tell that I was both exhausted and strained the next morning when they woke because they set me up doing a monotonous and boring but comforting task- peeling the shells of hazelnuts while they gathered and hunted nearby. We always stayed within shouting distance and every so often I would hear a soft whistle, alerting me of their presence.

"Ready Rob?" Lachlan whispered, slipping his fingers between mine. It was a comforting gesture, both for him and me. "We're gonna keep going down the river."

I nodded silently, glancing behind me. Preston was trailing us, a short sword in either hand as he occasionally slashed at the branch of a tree, a mutinous look on his face. Neither of us talked to him, he would just have to get himself out of whatever mood he was in.

No one talked as we walked, but I knew what everyone was thinking about. Over half of the tributes were now dead, and we were still in an alliance of three. I wasn't totally sure of the number of tributes, but 7 or 8 sounded about right, especially after the last round of deaths. Us three, the boy from 2, the girl from 3, the boy from 11 and the thin, lithe girl, maybe from 10? It was scary. On the surface I believed that neither of them would betray me, but in my heart of hearts I knew it was going to fall apart eventually, even if I didn't want it to. I didn't want to leave Preston or Lachlan, I didn't want to kill them and I didn't want one of them to kill me.

I didn't want to think about that either.

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Later in the day, just before noon I think, we settled down beside a waterfall, hoping the crashing water would disguise our soft voices. Lachlan tucked his head into the crook of my shoulder again, just as he had done when he was sleeping, and his hand rested on my thigh. Preston sat facing us, a sword still in hand.

"I think... I think we need to talk." I whispered softly, bringing up the topic I knew I would hate the most. "There's 7 tributes left at most and we're sitting here in an alliance of three. I don't know what to do."

Lachlan shuddered, completely silent, pressing himself closer to me. I could tell he didn't want to separate, he didn't want to be on his own.

"I don't know what to do either." Preston sighed, closing his eyes. "This can't continue forever."

There was silence for a few moments before Lachlan spoke up, his voice shaking with fear. I held onto him tight, hoping it would provide at least some comfort.

"Please?" He whispered, trembling. "I don't want to split up, I don't want to be alone."

"I know Lachy but... we can't keep going like this. We're almost half of the remaining tributes and we're allied." Preston sighed. "As much as I don't want it to be true."

We sat in silence for another while, just thinking about our future together as a group. I hated it even considering it, but I knew it would happen. But I couldn't bare the thought of leaving Lachlan or Preston alone, both of them were vulnerable and I just... I couldn't. I loved both of them with all of my heart.

Lachlan and I had our heads down while we considered our options and the rushing of the water deafened us to the world around us- and Preston had his back to the forest. None of us saw the girl creeping up on us, on Preston, with a deadly sharp knife glinting in his hand.

The knife was in Preston's neck before anyone could even react.

A high scream was wrenched from his throat and Lachlan and I both jolted, my hand scrabbling for a weapon, but it was already too late. The sword I found, one of Preston's that he had carried since the first day, ran through her skull with a sick thud and she fell forwards, dead.

But it was too late for Preston.

The first cannon went off only a moment later, for the girl, and I sat back, in shock. My brain simply couldn't comprehend what had just happened and Lachlan wasn't any better, his entire body trembling with fear.

And then I saw Preston.

He was laying sprawled on the floor, the knife sticking out from his neck and blood was spewing from the wound, his chest heaving with pain. Lachlan let out a low sob, his hands moving up to cover his mouth. We both knew it was over for him.

I made the first move, crawling over to his side while sobbing desperately, silently begging for him to say something, to look at me, to let me know that he was alright. It was only after my shaking arms wrapped around his waist, his head resting partly on my lap while he bled out, that he looked up. His eyes were blown wide with pain and his breathing was shallow, gurgling blood with every movement of his chest.

Lachlan shuffled up behind me to lean on me, still shaking, his hand snaking around me to grab Preston's. Tears still fell.

The light was already fading from his eyes as the blood flowed onto the ground and he curled up in a tight ball, low gasps escaping his lips. All I could to comfort the poor boy was hold him, getting his blood all over me in the process, and Lachlan tried to help as well, squeezing his hand every time he needed it.

It only took a few minutes of suffering before his movement began to slow, his eyes blinking slowly and his legs tucking up closer to his chest, blood still gushing from his neck around the knife. Lachlan was muffling his sobbing, one of my hands moving to wrap around his waist, trying to comfort him as well. I was still too much in shock to really do anything.

Preston's eyes begged with me to do something, but he knew, I knew he knew, that there was nothing that could be done. He couldn't speak, he could barely move and he was losing too much blood- it would only take a few minutes longer.

"It's gonna be okay..." I whispered to him, running a gentle hand through his hair. "We're here, we're gonna be okay. It's alright."

His eyes flickered closed and I saw his hand tighten around Lachlan's, providing a somewhat reassuring touch for him. His breathing was slowing, fading out.

I saw his mouth move in the words that would stick with me for the rest of my life- I love you.

The cannon boomed.

Lachlan sobbed, his head falling onto my shoulder. Our ally, the boy my heart had pounded around, was dead.

And I never got to tell him I loved him in return.