Safe and Sound

Chapter Twenty Eight - To Save and to be Saved

Throughout the rest of that day, Grayson and I feasted on some of the chocolate that Grayson had been given. It made him about a hundred times more happy than usual and it was quite adorable, the way he got excited over it. We had just literally escaped death and he was too busy being excited over his gift from Haymitch. I supposed it was fair that he got a personal gift, seeing as I had received a birthday cake not that long ago. I had given Grayson the last slice, so I guessed it was fair the way he insisted on sharing his chocolate with me. I didn't mind, though. It was good.

His gift had made Grayson seem so much lighter and happier, and it was nice to watch him as we climbed a tree and settled down for the night. Only Lenna's face looked down upon us as we set out our sleeping bag. We also used the blanket, which was very warm, but not too hot. It was pleasant and it almost felt as if we were in a bed. But we weren't in a bed. We were belted onto a branch, hiding away from the death that would await us if we had both camped out on the forest floor down below us.

I stayed snuggled into Grayson's chest, his warm arms wrapped around me as we breathed more or less at the same time. His forehead was pressed against the top of my forehead and I could feel his soft hair tickling at any exposed skin. With Grayson, it was warm and peaceful. It felt right even though it wasn't. It was only going to end in pain, whatever 'it' was, but for now, it almost felt as though it was going to be worth it. Of course, I naturally didn't want to lose Grayson. That would be very painful and I had no idea how I would recover if I did. I wondered if he would feel the same way if he lost me. I wanted him to feel that way, but at the same time, I didn't. I didn't want to cause any sort of physical or mental pain for him. That would be painful enough.

"Harper?" Grayson suddenly muttered, his breath causing bits of my hair to blow slightly. I looked up at him. "Harper, are you scared of death?" I did not expect Grayson to ask such a question. "Because if one of us is going to die, then we're going to have to get used to that idea."

"Don't say that." I scolded, keeping my voice as soft as possible. But I supposed Grayson did have a point. We couldn't ignore the matter forever, one of us was going to die in the end. Grayson loosened his grip on me slightly and looked down at me.

"You didn't answer my question." He asked. He seemed deadly serious. This was just a small flaw in having Grayson as my ally. He could be loving, kind and someone that could make you smile within seconds of crying, but he was also to the point and actually quite serious.

"Well...death is inevitable. But we're just scared because we're going to die young, aren't we? I don't think death is something to be feared, but something we should try and push away from us as much as we can. I guess many people fear death and pain because look at all the medicines and cures the human race has created. If we didn't fear death, humans would be stuck in the stone age." I answered. Grayson nodded slowly, but he didn't seem convinced.

"Very true. But that still doesn't answer my question. Do you fear death as an individual?" He asked. I shrugged and looked up at the star filled sky.

"I guess I'm scared about how I'm going to die. Death is the aftermath, but the way you die is more important I think. I just want to die in the comfort of my own home, in a warm bed with someone I love, who will be there until the end. Not being slaughtered and dying painfully and slowly. But we can't all get what we want in this world." I replied. I looked back over to Grayson. "What about you, do you fear death?"

"I suppose I do." He sighed, "But not as much when I'm with you. I know you'd make me comfortable, you'd wipe the fear away with a simple touch of your hand and the flames from your fingertips would warm me up, push the cold away. Because death may be inevitable, but it doesn't have to be painful."

"But what if my fingertips didn't have flame? What if, as you fell, you extinguished it? What if they had ice instead?" I asked. Grayson smiled.

"Then it shall be the warmest ice I would have ever felt. It's impossible to truly extinguish a flame, not for a while at least. When you blow out a candle, smoke remains. Heat remains. When you put out a fire, there is still heat and there are ashes and small sparks and flames that weren't caught, waiting to be put out by the wind." Grayson said. Another thing about talking with Grayson: he always seemed to say the most beautiful and intelligent things. Well, that's what I thought of them at least.

"Come on," I muttered to him, "We've got to get to sleep. We are nearing the finale every second and I think we've got to be ready for whatever is going to be thrown at us."

I felt Grayson nod from beside me and then bury his head into my shoulder, where I felt his breath in the crook of my neck, tickling my skin. It was peaceful, but it still felt tense. Now that we had touched on the subject, it was going to linger between the two of us until the end. The very end. And perhaps some more.

"Harper." He whispered. I had to hold in an exasperated sigh.

"Yes?" I asked. Grayson didn't move, his breath still tickled my skin and his thick hair brushed my jawline. I felt Grayson yawn from underneath my chin.

"I don't love you, Harper," He whispered. It hit me like one of his knives hit a target; it pierced me and kept going through, making a hole. I was about to move away, but Grayson held onto me tighter, squeezing me, "But I always will."

I froze. My breathing stopped. My blood seemed to go cold and my heart seemed to slow down and then pick up pace, giving me an odd sensation in my chest area. I blinked and tried to breathe again, seeing as I was beginning to go light headed.

What did that mean? He had told me that he didn't love me, but that he always will. That was confusing for my tired brain. Grayson was still squeezing me tightly around my middle, which made me fear that he was going to cut off the circulation to the lower half of my body. I needed my legs, they were important for being in the Games. But I wasn't concentrating on that, I was concentrating on trying to decipher Grayson's words. When I said he sounded intelligent, I meant the way he spoke and worded things, not how many riddles he could put into his speech. But I guessed he was good at that, too. He honestly was good at pretty much everything he tried. And if it meant getting me confused at night, then so be it. He would use his talents in every way he could. Grayson was far too intelligent for his own good. I guessed that was his fatal flaw, his Achilles Heel. His sheer intelligence would probably put him in a sticky situation and I didn't want to think about that. I also didn't want to think about mine.

"I'll tell you the true meaning later, when I feel like it's the right time. Now, are you going to sleep or not?" Grayson asked, then demanded. I smiled slightly and snuggled into him, his warmth giving me a tingling sensation throughout my body. I hated myself for feeling whatever this was, but I couldn't help it, 'it' just seemed to come back to me even when I tried hard to get rid of it. It was inevitable.

____________

"Can you smell that?" I asked Grayson as we walked onward in the early morning. The air felt quite odd, to me it seemed to be almost thick, and seemed to smell like rust. "It's rust or something, but I don't understand what could be rusty." Grayson sniffed the air, and his nose instantly crinkled. He then seemed to taste the air, biting it almost. He then grimaced.

"It smells like blood. Blood smells quite like rust." He said, confirming my exact thoughts, "And it tastes like blood." Grayson then walked over to a tree and plucked a leaf from a low hanging branch. He then held the leaf upside down and a faint red coloured liquid trickled down it and fell onto the forest floor. He nodded. "And it looks just like blood, too. Watered down blood, though. The air reeks with it. But how and why..." He trailed off, adjusted his backpack and drew a knife. He then walked onward, beyond the tree and off into the ticker trees. I followed him.

The air seemed to be thick with an almost transparent mist, which was indeed tinted red. It wasn't very obvious, but the colour was definitely there. I looked about, confused. This couldn't be the finale, there were too many tributes left. So what was it exactly? I walked forward, but cautiously. This could have been quite dangerous. Poison, perhaps. Grayson looked back at me and gave me a look, telling me to stay where I was. He then looked back at the blood mist and reached out. He touched it and didn't flinch or even make a sound. He then put a finger to his lips, tasting it.

"Blood. And it doesn't taste artificial." He whispered. "I think it's safe. Well, when I say safe...no. It's fine. I think it will just be a little uncomfortable to breath. That's all. I hope."

Grayson then beckoned me to follow him. We moved slowly. I had positioned my bow down near my legs, an arrow nocked into it. I would be able to raise and shoot if necessary. Grayson was positioned with his knife. We both, even though we weren't next to each other, moved in sync. Our breathing patterns were the same. And Grayson was right, as we moved onward, it wasn't easy to breathe. But we had to get to this source.

As we moved further, the red mist got darker, making it look more and more like blood from a fresh wound, just hanging in the air.

"Grayson, I think we should turn back." I managed to say. It was hard to speak with the blood in the air. Grayson shook his head, even though he looked uncomfortable. The blood had dampened his hair slightly and he looked slightly red because of the blood.

"What's the point? The air is literally blood, I think this is part of killing off some of the tributes so they can get straight to the finale. The people may be getting a little bit bored now. The feast wasn't exactly very eventful, except for us falling over and killing someone." Grayson managed, "We might as well give them a good show. It's what they want, after all."

I nodded and we continued on our way, our weapons at the ready. Breathing got more difficult, so we both pulled out jackets up to our nose. It wasn't exactly comfortable nor ideal, but it was more so than the blood air, which just choked you whenever you tried to take the smallest of breaths.

So we continued on, both of us looking like some sort of assassin as we managed to breathe in the humid conditions under our jackets. Eventually, we reached a clearing. There was no blood in the air as far as I could see, but it still reeked of it. We both our jackets down from our noses to find that we could breathe, but we could still smell the familiar stench of rust that we all associated with blood and death. I was tempted to pull my jacket back over my head again, just to block out the smell, but I guessed I would endure.

Grayson looked about, his blue eyes unchanged. Whenever I looked at Grayson and into his eyes, I saw the pain reflected there. The pain of his losses. The pain of being pushed out of childhood too quickly. The pain of just living. Pain isn't always physical, but sometimes, mental pain hurts more. Grayson was definitely a prime example of this. Grayson was strong, but his heart was aching. It was straining against the pain and trauma that it had been through. But that was exactly what made Grayson brave. Yes, sometimes the pain could make him slip, but no, it didn't make him any weaker. We all needed pain to make us stronger and Grayson had had a hell of a lot of it. And we would probably get lots more when he went home...if he went home. Shut up, Harper.

As we walked, we stayed in our usual formation: close together, moving slowly, legs slightly bent and our bodies slightly bent at the hip. We moved steadily and stealthily, our feet not making any noise on the floor as we stepped in perfect sync with one another. It felt good to be able to team up with someone and work with them so naturally, as if we were meant to do so. I wondered how many people were betting on either one of us and how far we'd make it. I wondered how many people would be sitting on the edge of their seats, just waiting for something bad to happen to us, waiting for us to get ourselves out of whatever was to be thrown at us.

And something big was about to be thrown at us.

We had just entered a clearing, when suddenly Grayson froze. He stopped walking completely and went a light shade of sickly green. He was staring at a nearby tree, the look of shock and fear evident on his face. I was confused until I spotted it. Hanging from one of the branches was a jacket, a maroon/brown in colour. It was completely ripped up and torn, stained with red...blood. The only way I could tell that it was a jacket was that it was the colour of the jackets from District 2. That's when it kicked in. My throat constricted. My breathing stopped momentarily. My heart rate picked up, the adrenaline rushing. Bad adrenaline. That was Ryker's jacket, torn up by the mutt. Ryker had technically been my kill, with a little help from the lion mutt. I must have gone a shade close to Grayson's.

I looked over my shoulder and saw another jacket hung over a branch, fluttering slightly. It was a dark grey, meaning it had belonged to one of the tributes from 4. It was still more or less in one piece, but it had a hole in the chest area and was stained in blood. That jacket had belonged to my first kill; the girl from 4.

I was getting very scared now. This was horrible. Grayson suddenly made a gagging noise and grabbed my shoulder. I turned to see that he was pointing to a kaki green coloured jacket, covered in blood and something that looked remarkably like pus. I squinted and realised that that jacket must have been Glow's judging by where the holes and blood stains were. Grayson put his hands over his ears and fell ungracefully onto the floor, rocking back and forth. He made slight whimpering noises, even when I kneeled down in front of him and held his shoulders, desperately trying to bring him back to his senses. Nothing worked. I guessed this was his only means of defence from the trauma and pain he had experienced and was currently experiencing. I felt tears brimming in my eyes, knowing that there was nothing I could do to pull him out of this state. He would have to do it himself. Grayson was strong, he would come around eventually.

I backed away from Grayson and looked up to the sky, where something was fluttering down. It was another jacket. I caught it and immediately dropped it when I looked at it closely. It was a murky yellow colour and there was a thin line in the stomach area, but there was a lot of blood. Angora. I picked it up and tried to get it away, hide it in a bush maybe, but Grayson had already seen it. He let out a slightly strangled cry and curled up, looking like a sleeping cat, maybe even a dying cat. I dropped the jacket and looked about frantically, waiting for Lenna's to fall out of the sky at any moment.

The tears were now pouring down my face. This was too much. I didn't think the Capitol would stoop this low to kill off tributes. They were cruel, but I didn't think that they would do this to us. I sat down and pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my head in them. I was sobbing now. This was too much. Far too much. Too much to handle. Too much to cope.

The smell of blood got more obvious and I could taste it in my mouth. The blood air was returning. I choked on the blood, my throat feeling clogged up. Maybe it was because of the tears. Maybe it was because of the blood. Perhaps both. All I knew was that I couldn't breathe, that Grayson was whimpering and crying out of pain and hurt and that we were going to die. We were going to mourn to death. We were going to scare ourselves to death. We were going to give in to the Games.

- Grayson's Point of View -

Bad thoughts and negativity swarmed in my head like Tracker Jackers. They buzzed loudly and sent fear through me. I couldn't breathe. All I seemed to do was cry and choke on the blood in the air. I was giving in, I was giving up on hope and sponsors and home and...and Harper. No, do not give up on her. She didn't give up on you and you shall do what she did. You will not give up on your allies. But I couldn't. I was too weak, too pained, too sore. She was right. There was pain in my eyes and now it was hurting physically. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to even get up.

But I could hear her crying, hear her choking on the blood that she was breathing in, hear the pain in her sobs. Here I was, being too self absorbed and she was dying too, like me. If we didn't get out of here, we would surely choke to death on our tears and the blood. I wasn't letting Harper die. Not when her father needed her the most.

I uncurled myself slightly and looked up. I saw Angora's jacket a few metres away, stained with the blood that I had caused to bleed. I gritted my teeth and looked over to Harper, who was curled up and crying. Her cries and breaths now sounded raspy. Her lungs were breathing in too much of the blood, it was bad her her and she wasn't going to last much longer. I had to get the both of us out of here, and fast. She was my mockingjay and I was hers. We wouldn't give up on each other.

I slowly started to push myself up, my jaw locked and my teeth gritted. It hurt my chest, but I managed to push myself up and onto my knees. I coughed and blood came out of my mouth, dripping down my chin, but I ignored it. My main concern was getting Harper to safety.

I gingerly started to get to my feet, my head spinning and my whole body shaking. I took deep breaths and managed to stand up. I was shaking terribly, but I had made it. I turned and looked to Harper, who had now fallen down onto her side, choking. Each breath she took was eating her away and I was not going to let her be taken from me. Not now. Not after all we had been through together. She meaned too much to me, I wouldn't be able to find the right thoughts inside of me to allow myself to leave her here to die. I had to save her, even if it was going to be the last thing I would do.

After a deep breath and one last cough up of blood, I staggered over to her. My head was spinning, the pain coming right in the middle, where I couldn't reach it. Even though it hurt terribly, I had to ignore it. Nothing was coming in the way of me getting Harper to clean air. I managed to get to Harper's trembling, frail body. I reached down and picked up her bow, slinging it on over my backpack like she did with her quiver. I then managed to bend down and put my arm under her arm, supporting her. I then clenched my jaw as I lifted her. She was very light, but I was weak. It was a struggle, but eventually I had pulled her to her feet. Her head fell onto my shoulder. She was practically unconscious now, or at least, she was as good as. I adjusted her arm so it was slung over my shoulder and started to walk forwards.

It took a long time to move a few steps, but determination was now coursing though my veins, the adrenaline working my body for me. I kept coughing up blood and my vision was beginning to go blurry, but I marched on, almost dragging Harper with me. It was hard, but the more pain I felt in my chest, the more determined I was to move faster. My legs were aching and my chest was practically screaming, but I had to keep moving. I had to save Harper. I had to save the Flaming Mockingjay. It was my job as an ally and a friend. And it felt to me as the last thing I would ever do.