Safe and Sound

NOTE: Thank you ever so much to my amazing fans and readers that encouraged me to get this far in the book! Thirty chapters is a massive achievement, I think, and we all deserve a pat on the back. Go on, pat your back. You deserve it.

PS: This is not the final chapter! There is a couple more to go after this, then it will be the ending. Thank you! Now, please go ahead and enjoy the chapter :)

Chapter Thirty - The Finale

Grayson and I were woken up to the sound of the anthem of Panem, which caused us both to jump and head butt each other. It hurt our heads and our chests, but we had to listen to this (most likely) very important notice.

"Congratulations to the final three tributes who have fought through many battles and enemies to get here." Claudius Templesmith boomed down to us, his odd, Capitol voice echoing slightly. "We must thank you for providing us with such an eventful, nail-biting and tense Games so far, what with the ups and downs and the rollercoaster rides. It has been most enjoyable to watch-" Grayson growled like a dog. "-and we hope that it continues this way. However, we can't let you just die off, for that would be ridiculous-"

"Your accent's ridiculous." Grayson muttered so quietly I didn't think that anyone from the Capitol would have heard. I had to try my best not to laugh, because that would give it away. This was the announcement for our most certain death, after all.

"-so tonight, the Gamemakers are inviting you to the final feast. It will take place at sunset and it will be most...entertaining. There will be one hundred per cent attendance, as it is the finale and the chance to have one, worthy tribute crowned victor. Thank you, brave tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favour." Claudius Templesmith's voice went silent and the anthem played one last time, before it eventually died down and all went silent and still.

I looked over at Grayson and his expression must have reflected my own. It was the finale in a matter of hours. In a few hours, two would be dead and one would be free. It was day eighteen and it was most likely the last of the Games, if not, certain. I remembered my dream from not that long ago and shuddered at the thought, the horrific, terrifying thought. I felt my eyes start to go blurry. My bottom lip started to tremble slightly and my throat felt clammy. Before I had had a chance to let out a sob, Grayson had unbelted himself and leaped over to me in record time, engulfing me into one of his warm embraces, hiding me from the world that was watching.

The world was watching, but I wasn't flying, like Caritta had told me to do, I was falling. I was falling for many different reasons. One being my broken wings and two, because I was falling in, what I hated to admit, love. That had to be the explanation for all of this.

Grayson's arms felt warm and gentle as I had to force myself to choke back tears. Grayson rubbed my back slightly, comforting me. I wondered why he was showing such compassion towards me, seeing as it would all go to waste in a matter of hours. If we managed to kill Midas as a team, then we would be the last ones. We would have no choice but to kill the other. And that was hurting me already.

"I don't want to do it," I whispered to him. "I can't do it. I can't and I won't. I can't. I can't, I can't I just-"

"Can." Grayson said. His voice sounded clammy and he sounded just like the time when we first met; he was trying his best to sound brave, even when it was evident that he was scared. "You can. You're going home. I want you to go home." Grayson said. He was announcing his death, in front of the whole of Panem. I gulped and snuggled my head further into his chest, shaking my head furiously. He flinched slightly, but I didn't let go.

"No." I stated simply. I wasn't going to let Grayson slip away from me. I wasn't letting him go. There had to be some way to get the two of us out of the arena. Even if it meant that we would have to live our lives in the arena for the rest of forever, then I would do it. I couldn't let him go. A mockingjay can't be a mockingjay without its song, and Grayson was my song. He was the spark to my flames, the flight feather to my wing. Without Grayson, I would be a flightless bird with no flames and no song to help me. He was my key to survival and living. There was a difference between surviving and living, and at the moment, we were stuck somewhere between the two.

"Harper, we can't prevent it. We can't even change it. It has to be this way." He replied. I shook my head, completely adamant.

"It doesn't have to be this way."

And that was the last thing I said before we both crawled back into the sleeping bag, laying there in each other's arms, trying to savour our last moments together, before we reached the infinite darkness that was sure to come.

________

"Harper, come on. We've got to move. It will be sunset in a couple of hours." Grayson said as we walked through the forest, pushing branches to the side. I know this sounded really weird, but I would come to miss this stretch forest. I wouldn't miss the events or the Games. I would probably stay scarred about them for the rest of my life, Grayson even more so, but this forest was peaceful when there were no fights. It brought Grayson and I closer together. It gave me a friend when I thought I was alone. And, it was actually a beautiful place, just ruined by its purpose, its reason. That was why I was walking slowly, but I wasn't looking back when I passed by.

I didn't want to have to explain this to Grayson, so I just nodded and sped up just a little bit. Enough to make a difference, but not enough to move at a significant enough pace. Grayson looked back at me and sighed, giving me the smallest of smiles. He seemed to know why I was doing this. He was good at deciphering things, especially me. He then held his hand out towards me, a signal for me to take it.

I sighed, smiled and trudged forwards, lacing my fingers in between his. He then continued to walk forward, in the dark direction of the Cornucopia. He didn't walk too fast, nor too slow. It was a perfect pace. I stayed a little bit behind, but Grayson still held onto my hand. He didn't mind that his arm was extended out behind him and that he was almost dragging me along somewhat. He stayed quite quiet, besides the fact he was whistling a quiet tune that I couldn't quite make out. It took a while, but when the mockingjays started copying it, I immediately recognised it. It was our song, the song that we danced (or at least tried) to under the blue moon, while the mockingjays turned it into a huge chorus. Today the mockingjays weren't loud, but they were loud enough for me and the whole of Panem to hear Grayson and I's song clearly. Just another little thing we had over the Capitol. And I loved it.

So we walked through the forest, saying little nothings to one another, just for comfort. It was almost certain that we were walking towards our gruesome deaths. We didn't mention it, but it loomed over us like a shadow would, always there and always dark and brooding. We couldn't avoid it, so we just pushed it to the back of our minds as we walked. Well, I did. I didn't know about Grayson or what he was thinking. He could be quite hard to read at times.

We seemed to have walked for an eternity. The sky was beginning to go somewhat pink, the Sun beginning to sink slightly. We weren't that far from the Cornucopia. We had to have been, what, a few miles from the valley? It wasn't far at all.

I wondered what the finale was going to be like, what it was going to consist of. As I thought of the horrors I had seen in the past, Grayson's hand seemed to go cold, as if my thoughts even made his warm grip seem like ice. The warmest ice. My grip on Grayson's hand must have been getting loose, because Grayson seemed to reluctantly let go. I didn't want him to let go, of course, but it had probably seemed like I had wanted to. My hand seemed to get even colder after Grayson let go, but that may have just been me hallucinating.

I was just warming up my supposedly cold hand, when our song went quiet, the mockingjays no longer singing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grayson draw three knives. I looked up to see him walking very slowly, each of his knives raised. His eyes were narrowed and his breathing was slow. He had either spotted something, or worse, heard something that he couldn't see. His eyesight and hearing was very much like a wolf, perhaps even better than my own. He looked over to me and nodded gesturing to his ears. He had heard something nearby.

I carefully unsheathed an arrow, nocking it into my bow. I still had quite a few arrows left, but they weren't quite as tight now that some were gone. I held my bow at my front, ready to raise it if it was needed. My breathing was in time with Grayson's. We had gone into our mode of action, like cats, always ready. Well, we were almost always ready.

Suddenly, there was a loud, vicious growl. I froze. So did Grayson. We both had heard that one for sure. I only had time to exchange a quick look with Grayson and raise my bow before something jumped out of the bushes, startling us both. The two of us staggered backwards, not sure where to go or what to do.

And it was suffice to say that I could have just curled up and hope that it would be over with quickly.

It was another lion mutt. Its fur was a golden brown colour and its eyes were red, the pupils black slits, giving the eye a rather reptilian air. This mutt was much larger than the one that Caritta had saved me from. Its claws were longer, its teeth sharper and the scales on its stomach and chest area were a dark green and they were much thicker than the first one. It would take ages to find a weak spot on it. Like the previous one, I couldn't tell if there were any scales under its shaggy, golden mane.

The mutt looked right at me and started to prowl towards me, completely fixated with the idea of killing me slowly and painfully. This was not how I wanted to go. Not at all. Before the lion mutt could leap, Grayson had thrown one of his knives so it jammed in the centre of its head, piercing its skull. The mutt let out a loud roar of pain and anguish, which would attract pretty much every living thing in this forest. The mutt staggered about for a bit, blood trickling down its snout and on to the floor, but eventually, it slumped and went still. I looked at Grayson, who had paled. He swallowed.

"There's a week spot just at the top of its snout, between its eyes. No protection and only a thin layer of skin and fur. I su-" Grayson was cut off by several roars not so far away. They sounded angry and very much like they wanted the avenge the death of one of their kin. "Run."

I didn't need telling twice, or once for that matter.

We both turned and started to run, going faster than we had ever gone before. My chest burned, but I ignored it. I followed Grayson, who was presumably leading us towards the Cornucopia, for the feast, the finale. I could tell that the mutts were going to find the mutt Grayson killed and therefore, the knife. They were then going to follow our scent and kill us mercilessly. Any minute now, they were going to appear, and any minute now, they were going to find us.

Grayson cut through the trees and plants expertly, and so did I. We were good in forests and surviving, but now that the adrenaline was pumping through our blood, we were better than before. Our footsteps were silent, but swift. We crashed through the trees, but we dodged and ducked, meaning that we made no sound. As we ran, I suddenly had an idea.

"Grayson, we have to run in circles, zig-zag and cross our scents over. If they are chasing us, it will confuse them, take them off track long enough for us to get further away and to the Cornucopia quicker. We've got to get on top of the horn, they won't be able to climb it because of the material and their claws." I explained quickly and quietly, my heart pumping fast. Grayson looked like he could have hugged me. But now was definitely no time for that sort of thing.

"Harper, that's great! I'll go this way, you go that. Circle the trees then we meet by the valley. You can see it from here. Keep in range of my eyesight and I'll keep in yours, just in case." Grayson then took a sharp left and started running around the trees, occasionly rubbing his hands over a random branch or leaf. He even rubbed a few knives in hs hands and threw them into different trees quite far away. I followed suit and ran about, zig-zagging. I scrambled up a nearby tree then jumped from branch to branch, leaving my scent, switching trees now and again. I then jumped down on the ground, landing in front of Grayson. The roars and growls were getting louder.

"It will confuse them for a bit, but not long. Let's go." He said, grabbing my sleeve and tugging me towards the bottom of the valley. We then started to run up it quickly, both of us being strangely agile for how slippery the hill was. Again, I think it must have been the adrenaline. Even the two of us would have both fallen over otherwise.

As soon as we reached the top of the hill and jumped into the bushes, running out onto the plain, the mutts reached our trail and immediately their growls died down. There had to have been about eight of the mutts in total. They split up and started following the trails, looking confused. It wouldn't last for long, though, so Grayson had to get to the Cornucopia and fast.

However, as we sprinted towards the Cornucopia, Midas came thundering out from the forest at the other end of the plain holding a long, sharp knife, with about five mutts on his tail. Grayson didn't even have to look at me. I lifted my bow and shot an arrow, Grayson threw a knife. My arrow scraped Midas across the side of his face and Grayson's knife got him in the arm. Midas howled in pain, but he kept moving towards the Cornucopia.

Grayson and I had to get there first, or kill Midas along the way. But as soon as we adjusted our direction so it was toward the glittering horn, the mutts that had been on our trail ran out of the forest, angrier than ever. They roared, their manes flowing in the wind. The sky had started to go a dark purple colour, stained with orange and pink. Sunset.

The finale had begun.

And this was just the beginning of it.

Grayson and I ran towards the Cornucopia, all thirteen mutts and Midas on our trail. Again, the unlucky number finding its way into our lives yet again. I hated that number, perhaps as much as I hated the Games.

It was a long and painful run. Our legs were burning and the mutts' roars were louder than ever. I could smell them from even the distance we had from them. The gave off the smell of blood and raw meat. And we would soon be the raw meat that they would be eating if we weren't quick.

We reached the Cornucopia, the mutts literally only just behind us. Midas caught up with me and reached the Cornucopia, scrambling up it quicker then the two of us. I managed to get to the top, hanging on to the edge of the slippery horn. I threw my bow quiver onto the top, so I could pull myself up easily. Grayson had already heaved himself up and was about to help me get on to the top of the horn, when Midas grabbed him from behind and pulled him away. From the shouts and the distinctive sound of metal on metal, I could tell both of them had started to fight, Grayson only armed with his knives and wits. I coul only just see them from where I was and Grayson had managed to get out of the lock and was holding a nasty looking knife that he must have pulled out of his backpack. I looked across at my silver bow, which was out of my reach.

I was distracted momentarily, and momentarily was too long; far too long. I felt a sudden pain run through my left leg and looked down to see a mutt digging its claws right into my right calf, pulling me down. I screamed and almost let go of the edge, but I clung on. The mutt had completely torn the lower half of my trousers and leg, causing the blood to seep through the remaining material.

The other mutts had gathered to watch this mutt try and pull me down. Tears stung my eyes and streamed down my face, the pain was too much. I wanted to let go, so I could get this over with, but I didn't want Grayson to get hurt. I tried to kick the mutt away, but every time I moved my leg, the lion would sink its claws deeper into my calf. It was pulling me gently, but it was waiting for me to let go. Its brethren stared at me hungrily, their reptilian eyes watching. Watching. Their eyes.

I suddenly remembered. Grayson had only said moments ago that, between their eyes, they were weak. There was only a thin layer of skin and fur to protect their skull underneath, and judging by the way Grayson's knife had lodged into the mutt's skull, it wasn't very thick bone under there.

But I had no means of getting between the mutt's eyes. My bow was out of reach, and I wasn't strong enough to hold myself up with one arm. My hands were already trembling enough as it was because of the strain and the searing pain. I was weaponless...or was I? Grayson's knife! I remembered!

"Keep it, you may need it to kill a mutt or something." Grayson's voice said in my head. Of course. Grayson's knife, the one he had nearly killed me with, would now be my only hope. I heard Midas and Grayson's shouts as they fought angrily. I heard their heavy footsteps, the sound of them being thrown about and the sound of metal on metal. I had to help Grayson. But he was okay for now, I hoped. He wouldn't let himself fall at the hands of Midas. He was a lot stronger than everybody gave him credit for.

I felt another jab of pure agony in my leg and that was what made my grit my teeth and let go with my right hand. I felt the sweat run down my forehead as my left arm trembled and my leg screamed with pain. But I had to do it for my father. For my sister. For my mother. For Grayson. For my District. For the small amount of good left in Panem.

I managed to reach down into the pocket on my right leg. The mutt tugged at it, sending a wave of agony right up and down it. I let out a yelp, but that was the only sign of weakness that I have. I was the Flaming Mockingjay. I was going to fly and not fall, after all, the world was watching.

I put my hand into the pocket and felt the cool feeling of the metal on my fingers. It was satisfying. I pulled it out descretely, then swung my hand up, closed my eyes, and jabbed the knife as hard as I could down into what I hoped to be the part between the eyes. I must have got on target, as I felt the blade go deeper into the skull of the mutt. The mutt let out a roar of pain, released my leg and fell, taking Grayson's knife with it. I opened my eyes and saw the lion mutt lying, sprawled out on the grass below, its head red with blood and its body still. Its brethren glared up at me, their reptilian eyes seeming to burn holes into my soul. Before one could leap up and drag me down, I scrambled on top of the Cornucopia. Pain seared through my calf, but I gritted my teeth and reached my bow and quiver. I pulled my quiver on and grabbed my bow. I looked over to see that Midas had pinned Grayson down and Grayson was struggling to resist Midas' long, sharp knife. He was going to stab Grayson right in the heart.

"Leave him alone!" I shouted, nocking an arrow, aiming it towards Midas' heart. Midas looked up and seemed scared, but only momentarily. Midas got up and raised his knife, pointing it away from Grayson, as if he was surrendering. Grayson scrambled to his feet, but Midas' surrender had only been to fool us. He back-stabbed Grayson right in the stomach, pushing his blade into him. He then pulled his knife out of Grayson. I screamed as Grayson fell to the ground, choking and clutching his abdomen, the blood seeping through his fingers.

I could only watch on as my ally, the only one who could make me smile during the Games, fell and lay there, his breathing slow and ragged as he died.

Midas walked over to me, his knife red with Grayson's blood. The mutts on the ground growled and roared excitedly as they caught the smell of fresh blood nearby. Midas pulled me to my feet. I dropped my bow as the pain in my calf made white spots appear in front of me.

"Harper Anselin. So we meet again. I missed you." Midas reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder area of my jacket, pulling me off the ground slightly. I felt the blood trickle down my leg. I knew that I would lose consciousness soon, because of the loss of blood. I had to keep myself awake. I was not letting myself black out so that Midas could finish me off while I lay there, bleeding and unconscious. I was not letting myself give in to the Games. If I was to go down, I would go down fighting. "So much for the Flaming Mockingjay. You're easy and weak. You will be my most boring kill of the Games, but yet again, you will be my most interesting."

"I'm not going to be your kill, I don't want to be your kill!" I exclaimed. Midas then lowered me down to the ground and then reached his leg out. He pressed his foot against my mangled leg, putting pressure on it. I squealed with pain as it soared up and down my calf. I had to really fight to stay awake. I then bit down on my tongue, my eyes still streaming with tears. "I won't be your kill, Midas. I will be nobody's kill. If I was to be anybody's kill, I would be my own!"

Midas wrenched me back up again, making my head spin wildly.

"You are my kill, Harper Anselin. It's time to put out the Flaming Mockingjay's light. I promise that I will make it hurt as much as I-" Midas then dropped me,and bent forward. I saw something sticking out from his stomach, causing blood to seep through his jacket. He reached into the wound and pulled out...one of Grayson's blades from his boot. Midas looked around and saw Grayson, propped up slightly on his elbows, his face drained of colour, but his eyes alert and ready.

"I'm sorry to say that it's hard to put out a wildfire with just one drop of water." Grayson said, before Midas dropped his blade and fell off the side of the Cornucopia. As soon as he hit the ground, bleeding and limp, the mutts ran at him. I covered my eyes, but I could still hear the cannon go off almost instantly and the sound of breaking bones and ripping flesh.

I uncovered my eyes and saw the mutts running off, carrying what was left of Midas. I choked back a sob. It was disgusting and, despite how bloodthirsty Midas had been, it had nonetheless been a cruel ending for the boy. He was just a boy, a child, forced to go mad so he could escape this living Hell.

I then looked over to Grayson, who gave me a weak smile before slumping back down, weak and practically unable to move. I managed to crawl over to him, leaving a trail of blood behind me. The white spots were fading, but I knew I would be knocked out soon.

"Grayson," I whispered as I crawled over to him. "Grayson. It's just us now." Grayson looked up at me and managed a weak smile.

"I'm going now, aren't I?" He said. I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes for a different reason to the pain in my leg. The pain of losing Grayson, a pain much greater than any other that I had felt during the Games.

"No you're not. I won't let you, you can't. Not now. Not after all we've been though and done. You're not leaving me now." I managed to crawl over to Grayson and lie down next to him. I ignored the pain in my leg; it wasn't anywhere near as painful as the agony my heart felt. Grayson reached out with his bloody hand and held mine. He moved my hand so it was placed over the huge, bleeding gash on his stomach. He was definitely dying. There was no way he would survive this, but I didn't want to accept it. Not now, not after everything.

"Harper, this is the only way. Harper, there's nothing you can do." Grayson winced then coughed into his arm, then looked back up at me, blood dripping down his chin. The blood from his stomach felt warm. "Harper, I can't get out of here and I know I won't. It's certain. I let myself grow attached to you, it's my fault that we're in this situation. I went looking for you. And I sure as Hell found you." I managed a small smile this time. He had definitely found me. We had both tried to kill each other, unaware of who each of us actually was.

"Grayson." I then said firmly, figuring out where this was going. But Grayson wsn't finished, not just yet. His blood seeped through my fingers, staining my skin red.

"Everyone wants some sort of flame, but they don't want to get burned." He then moved his bloody hand so it lay on top of the one that I had over his wound. In a way, I guessed I was trying to stop the blood flow. But there was nothing I could do. "And I guess this is my burn, it is my punishment for playing with fire."

I choked back the sob that was threatening to spill. Tears poured down my face. Grayson was being so brave. He hadn't even shed a single tear, and it was evident that this wound was hurting him. But he didn't ask me to remove my hand. He kept it there.

"Grayson, there has to be some way...we have to. We can survive in the woods, we...we can make it. Please, just, don't leave me." I said. Grayson shook his head slightly, then winced. He took a deep breath, his whole body shuddering.

"With those mutts? No chance. Besides, I don't think I've got anymore than a few minutes. I don't want to die, but I guess this is my fate. But pomise me this; look after my siblings, will you?" Grayson then asked. Why was he being so noble and selfless? He was dying and his wish was for me to look after his siblings. I looked into his eyes, and for once, the pain had gone. They looked normal, but still stunningly beautiful. He smiled slightly, so I smiled slightly. He reached out with his other hand and stroked the side of my cheek, his fingers tracing the outline of my jawline. Even though his hand was covered in blood, cuts and bruises, they were still soft and kind.

I looked at him, at the fact that he was covered in blood and dirt. But, despite all this, to me he looked more handsome than ever. I remembered the time, when Angora had attacked us, we had almost...I wondered if Grayson was thinking about it. What really had been going on the two of us, even I didn't know. Whatever it had been, I had loved almost every minute of it.

So, as I looked at Grayson as he was wincing, bleeding and dying, I did something I would have kicked myself for if I had done it at any other point during the Games.

I leaned forward and kissed him.