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★★★
RUE FINDS ME HUDDLED AGAINST a tree when night falls, shaking like a leaf and staring into space. She doesn't say anything, just helps me up and leads me to another tree, where a sleeping bag has been set up. Without a word, I climb in and she climbs in next to me, huddling close like Xavier did when he was younger and scared of the dark.
Thinking of my little brother is easier than thinking about the crack when Glimmer's head hit the ground.
The temperature drops, and despite the material of the sleeping bag reflecting heat on the two of us, I shiver. Not from the cold, isn't it?
"Rue," I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady. Keep it together. For Rue. For Xavier.
She blinks up at me, luminous eyes wide. "Yeah?"
"What..." I take a deep breath. "What happened to Thresh?"
"Oh." She hesitates. The sky is darkening; soon, the anthem will play. "Glimmer killed him. She caught him by surprise."
Glimmer. Glimmer Belcourt, the girl from District One, twirling in her interview dress, laughing with her district partner. She killed Thresh. And I killed her.
I wasn't expecting it to be so all-consuming, my first kill. I'm trying not to think about it, to bottle everything up as to not distract from the fact that I am still in these Games and there are still eleven... ten? Nine? There are still tributes here, out for my blood. I have never been good at processing my emotions.
You have to learn. The arena changes you.
I think of my mentors. I remember seeing reruns of their Games, a far younger Beetee watching emotionlessly as several tributes jerked and screamed soundlessly like out-of-control puppets in the electric current he fashioned. It was self-defense. It was all self-defense. Right?
I realize the anthem has ended. We'll be seeing the faces now, the four cannons that sounded today. Thresh, Glimmer. Who else?
Glimmer appears first, her image flashing once, face clear of any blemishes, beautiful as the day of her reaping. Then the quiet girl from 8, the one whose name I can't remember. The crippled boy from 10. Thresh. They all disappear from the sky forever.
Rue, meanwhile, is counting on her fingers. "There's nine of us left," she says, voice lowering to a whisper. "Marvel, Cato, Clove, Dana, Gavin, you, the girl from 5, me, Peeta."
Nine left. I'm still alive, so close to the final eight. It's not often that someone from Three makes it this far. Briefly, I wonder if I can actually win this.
But then Rue would be dead. Everyone would be dead. I can't win.
I look over at my little ally, whose eyes have drifted closed, off to sleep. She looks so young in the moonlight, so small and harmless. I make a silent vow to myself that Rue is going to win these Games.
