Post by countlivin on Apr 27, 2019 15:56:00 GMT
Chapter 21: The Scorch
Saul Arrem
The flame was low, yet it gave off a warm glow. Saul held it close to his chest. It was the only thing he felt like he knew in this District anymore. Fire was predictable. You fan it, and it grow taller. Leave it out for too long and it will slowly fade away until there is nothing left to burn. He wondered if these thoughts had run through Munrow's head when he burnt down the forest. Could he truly have controlled it, or was he simply letting it spiral away from him like a volatile animal? He wasn't sure whatever came of that fire in the valley… Like every other, it was probably smothered eventually in its own wake. He had to put these thoughts behind him now; there was little time.
Saul flung through the town that he had grown up in like a whisper. In the dead of night, no one would spot him—they had all gone to sleep. In his absence last night, Munrow had accidentally left the hatch unlocked. It had seemed very careless of his old master, but he didn't leave himself much time to ponder. Every second that slipped by was one he was closer to freedom.
By the time Saul awoke from his forced slumber, night had already fallen, leaving an unfinished day of training behind. Yet Saul decided this was his last day in this dusty dungeon. After what happened that morning, he was done. The wound in his arm still hurt like hell, but it was sealed up for the most part. He finished it off by ripping his shirt into bits of bandages. He'd lost a lot of blood, but it was shut now, and he was still breathing. He hadn't had time to clean it.
In the hand opposite the one holding his candle, Saul clenched the hilt of his sword (it had shattered earlier that day on contact with Munrow's armor, but it still functioned as a nasty, sharp shiv). It hurt his arm to do so, but right now, he didn't care. It was his one protection against prying eyes. Luckily, the lights around town were all off. Still, he didn't like being out after curfew. That was when the bad people came out… At least that's how Ethel always put it.
Peacekeepers began to stroll down the side of the street and Saul quickly pressed himself against the wall. He held his breath so as not to let any sound escape his lips. He knew where he was going. Just around the corner and all the way down to Harbor Way… Then there was a long dirt path leading back to the apple orchard in which Munrow was holding his sister. Tonight was the night they would escape…
Saul snuck out from behind the wall of the apothecary. The windows were all grated shut so that the "bad people" couldn't get in. Hopefully no one inside could hear him scuttling around out here just beyond their walls. He made his way around the northern side of the building and found another dark corner to hide from the patrolling officers as they passed by.
Two Peacekeepers wandered dangerously close to where he was hiding. Both had their black visors down so Saul couldn't see their faces, but they were both gripping the batons on their sides. While they appeared very cautious, their conversation suggested otherwise.
"And there was this guy last night wandering around drunk—" began the fat one with a gut.
The short one chuckled in response. "Oh no. Was it on Miracle Avenue?"
"Miracle Avenue. You're exactly right." He sat on the steps of a building exactly opposite the one Saul was hiding behind, and he was glad that he was so heavily concealed by shadows. He would have been seen in plain daylight. He pressed himself as far into the corner as he could.
"So, this guy, long scraggly beard, came just waltzing down the side of the street," he continued. "He had a bottle of liquor in his hand, not concealed or anything."
"No way. I would have killed to get something like that."
"Hey… Jerrem… Don't say stuff like that. You know our conversations are recorded."
"Ah, I was only joking." The Peacekeeper named Jerrem waved his arm away. "So, what did you do about this guy?"
"Acutlaly, it was more like what he did…" He ran mailed fingers across his baton. "Before I even managed to pull this thing out he just started wailing."
"Bout what?"
"The end…" He sighed emotionally. "I don't know what it was the end of, for god's sake, but he wouldn't stop yelling about how it's coming."
"Get a hold of yourself, Gally." The short Peacekeeper took him by the shoulder, sitting down beside him. "Just a doomsayer. They're annoying but harmless."
"I know, but I just started to think… What if he was right?"
"Man, he was drunk… Spouting out any sort of random crap he can just to get out of getting beat to hell… It's like a bribe, except he's got no money."
"He said some really weird things though, man. He kept saying we've reached a reckoning. This year will be the last, and he really wouldn't shut up about whatever owl knows and doesn't know. I know it's probably just nonsense, but, I don't know… Something kind of got to me."
From what he was describing, Saul knew of the man in the Peacekeeper's story. There was an old man named Len who hung around the road to the orchard all the time, begging for change. Saul had never seen him with any alcohol, but he guessed it was just because he was saving it for his midnight strolls into police custody. Saul never talked to him but for a few times. Most times he was a sensible and reasonable sort, but he did mention the end more than once. All in all, he was a rather sweet old man. Saul hoped no harm had come to him.
"Just forget it, man. Don't pay attention to any of that stuff. It's all rubbish," Jerrem continued. "You ask me, it's just one more thing to take people's minds off the real world. Don't believe in doomsday. Believe in this." And he held up the baton.
They continued conversing for a while, and Saul had no choice but to remain in the shadowy corner. Before long, a small streak of orange fell from the sky and a small tabby cat emerged in front of him. It began to walk around in circles before pausing to peer upon Saul's hiding place, as if it was doubtful of something. Great…
It stepped up to Saul and began to poke him gently with its paw. It meowed softly and caught the attention of the guards. Saul closed his eyes, just hoping somehow they wouldn't notice him. The longer he sat there and the more jabs he was given by the cat, the closer he was to being caught.
A few more pokes later, the cat leapt onto Saul's arm. Unfortunately, it was the one he'd hastily wrapped in scraps of his own shirt. Whoever's cat this was really needed to get their claws trimmed. Saul fought back the pain as hard as he could. Tears welled in his eyes, yet he knew he couldn't make a sound.
"You ever seen something like that?" The short Peacekeeper seemed amused. "Cats do some of the strangest things…"
"Probably just a dead bird or something," the taller one responded. "As I've learned, it's best not to try and understand animals. You're never going to go anywhere but backwards."
Saul lifted his foot as carefully as he could and nudged the cat slightly, knocking it from his arm. It jumped away with shock and stared him down relentlessly with its giant green eyes. Its gaze felt hot on him, and he knew the pair of Peacekeepers were doing the same. Saul opened one eye and saw the skinny one removing his visor to get a better view into the darkness.
The cat meowed at him and he held his breath, making sure to make as little sound as possible. But eventually, the larger Peacekeeper, Gally, grew tired of watching. "Ah, screw this," he said, and took out his baton. He heaved it at the hat, but it missed, instead frightening it away. The flung baton passed right by the cat and struck Saul in the arm right beside his wound. All of a sudden, he felt like he had been stabbed all over again, knives piercing every bit of his skin. But he stayed quiet, even though he wanted to scream loud enough to wake all of District Eleven.
"Dude, don't hurt the cat." Jerrem smacked his friend on the shoulder. "It didn't do nothing to you."
"It was acting bloody weird," Gally replied. He stood up, and gradually inched towards Saul. Every step the man took was another knot in Saul's stomach. While he was thoroughly covered by the shadow of the wall, there was no way Gally wouldn't see him when he was close enough to pick up the baton. It was resting only a foot in front of him…
And finally, the Peacekeeper grew close enough to see him. "What the hell?" Gally reached over and grabbed the boy by the shoulder and pulled him out into what little light there was left in the night. "Who the hell are you? You know it's after curfew, right?"
"Yes…" Saul choked through the dust, and began to breathe deeply, like he had taught himself when he was younger. "I ws just making my way home."
"That's illegal, boy," Jerrem said. "I could beat you to a pulp right here if I wanted to."
Gally shook his head. "I'm going to have to write you up. What's your name?"
Saul used his good arm to prop himself up into a sitting position. "Saul Arrem…" he muttered. "I wasn't trying to do anything wrong. I was just making my way to my sister…"
"Arrem?" Jerrem scoffed. "That the name of that orphan girl who can't decide what color she is?"
"…Yeah," Saul sighed, holding back his resentment and the pain in his arm. "She's my sister."
"Well then, we're two lucky sons of a gun, ain't we Gally?" the skinny Peacekeeper laughed, turning back to Saul. "You know how much ruckus your sister causes down at the station? I've been to the scene of at least three fights that started 'cause of her. She's practically famous here… They call her the gray devil." Saul winced at hearing that name. He'd never heard it before, but he never wanted to hear it again.
"Yeah… lucky." Gally turned on a tiny flashlight mounted on his helmet, and placed a pad of paper on his knee to write with. "Going to your sister, you say? You live in town?"
"No… We live just outside of the town limits, near the apple orchard. You know it?" It wasn't really true. St. Rhodes' was well within city limits, but he didn't need to go there.
"Oh yeah," he replied. "I pick up apples from his shop from time to time. Good man, him. You know him?"
"More than I'd like…"
He shined his head flashlight onto Saul and looked him up and down. His eyes settled on the bloody bandage that was Saul's shoulder. "You're hurt, boy," he said. "That doesn't look like any form of treatment you'll get down at the sick bay. What happened to you?"
"I did something stupid. Got a nasty scar for it." Saul didn't want to tell the Peacekeeper any more. He just wanted him to put his blinding light away and get to the orchard.
"Well, I'll just have to escort you on down to the jail where you'll spend—" Gally looked back at him, shining the flashlight in his direction. This time, Saul's katana fragment caught a glimmer in the light and he jumped back, baton in hand. "He's got a weapon!" Saul figured there wasn't any around this now except through hem. He gripped his sword in hand and stood up swiftly. "Drop it!"
Neither of them had drawn a gun… Maybe they weren't high enough on the chain yet to have access. There were few things in Panem that were rarer than food. Guns were some of those things. Even the Peacekeeping force didn't have complete access. Jerrem drew his baton as well and came forward toward Saul.
Even though he'd only trained for a few days, Saul was used to the agility and complexity of Munrow's strikes that the Peacekeeper's lunge at him seemed very clumsy. He was easily able to block the blow with one strike, even with one arm worthless. The force of his parry offset the Peacekeeper's footing for a moment and Saul used it to swing his half-sword toward one of the chinks in his armor near his gut. It pierced through the fabric easily and blood spilled out, knocking the man to the ground.
Saul didn't have any time to reflect on the pain he'd just inflicted. HE only had one thought in mind: Peara. So it was not very long that he shot glances between the man bleeding on the ground and the other Peacekeeper looking on him in shock before he took off in silence, running through the city square. He was no longer concerned with stealth. He knew the way to the orchard…
He sprinted through the town as quickly as possible and eventually came onto the dirt path that led down to the apple orchard where Munrow was holding Peara. He didn't know whether anyone had seen him or not, seeing as it had been pitch black, but he was sure the Peacekeeper had called backup on him. The thought only made his run swifter.
He gripped the broken sword at his side, carefully making sure it didn't slip and hit him accidentally. His wounded arm hung at his side, flopping around. It hurt much less when he wasn't putting any weight on it, so he let it hang there. He needed to focus all effort into getting his sister back.
But at last, he managed upon Munrow's tiny apple shop and slowed down. He was sure people were looking for him, and he was sure that Munrow was one of them. He'd put too much time and effort into making them into the District's tributes to give up now. Saul almost felt bad for him, knowing
tonight was the night they would escape.
Saul pushed open the wooden door slowly and steadily, making sure it didn't make any noises. However, it fought very hard with him and creaked very loudly once. Saul cringed and held it still for a moment, just waiting for Munrow to appear to him and call the whole thing off. Fortunately, it never happened. He was still in the clear.
The shop was very dimly lit, rickety as always, but he'd been here so often that he knew where everything was: the board that creaked every time you stepped on it, the correct way to turn the handle of the gate so it wouldn't make any noise. He even knew to use the left door to the back room instead of the right, since the latter led to a small restroom.
When he finally made his way to the back room where he had been interrogated, it wasn't at all how he remembered it. Nothing was where it used to be. The tables and chairs had been removed, the light fixture had been ripped from the ceiling, and the room was now a shell with nothing more than four walls. That didn't matter, though, because hunched in the corner, was Peara, sleeping silently.
Peara was hunched against the wall, holding her legs between her arms. The clothes she had been wearing the last time they'd spoken had been replaced with a large sack he used to hold the apples with. It barely covered enough to be considered clothing. Saul eased closer to her, and saw a red-stained bandage between her neck and her shoulder… in the same place where he'd slashed Munrow… That bastard! Even with as little light as there was in the room, Saul could see the streaks down her cheek where she had been crying. He'd seen her like this once too many times… He missed the days when they could just be themselves at St. Rhodes'. No one made fun of Peara for the color of her skin. No one beat Saul up for defending her. It was a much nicer time to be around back then.
Saul knelt down to his sister and wiggled her knee lightly to wake her up. "Pea…" he whispered. "We gotta go. Come on." After a few more attempts, she finally came around, mumbling hoarse words. She jumped immediately, startled by Saul's touch. She twisted her head to the side and saw her brother standing there, instinctively letting out a yelp before she recognized him. Saul instantly covered her mouth with his hand and muffled the scream. "Peara!" he said, as softly as he could. "It's me. We need to get out of here now!"
"Saul?" She croaked lightly before bursting into tears and wrapping her arms tightly around her brother. "I missed you… Mr. Munrow is so mean."
"I know," he replied. "You're hurt. What happened?"
"He said whatever happened to him would happen to me. He cut me, Saul."
A jolt of anger shot through his system. He'd already been dealt a punishment for that: the wound on his arm, and now Munrow had the gall to further it on his sister? She didn't do anything wrong! "Well… Come on," he told her, using his good hand to help her to her feet. "We're getting away from him."
"Where are we going?"
Saul sighed. "A place I used to know… We'll be safe there. Come on."
He led his sister through the empty room towards the kitchen, and then towards the back door. He was shocked to find no trace of Munrow anywhere, but he wasn't complaining. It was making their escape so much easier… he stepped out the back door and closed it softly behind them after Peara had stepped into hostile night.
In the orchard, although the trees were lined up perfectly in rows, one could easily get lost within their ranks. He, however, knew exactly which way to go. Just on the other side of these trees was their freedom…
He noticed his shadow grow much taller and peered back toward the cottage behind them. The gleaming light of flashlights encompassed the building like an aura. There were angry shouts from the other side about tearing the whole place to the ground, and Saul knew they only had a matter of time. He took Peara's shoulder and spun her around. "Come on, and stay close to me."
The girl didn't respond. She was scared, but she wasn't stupid. They both knew that there was only once chance to get out of all this, and it was now. He sprinted through the trees of the orchard as fast as he could and Peara followed closely behind, her baggy clothing flopping around noisily. He darted around the tree with the large branch near its stump… east fourteen trees… north twenty-two. Here it was. There was the tree whose branches were essentially a staircase to the canopy. He'd been here so often that he only took a few seconds to scale them. Peara, though, had never been here before. This was always the place where he'd spent time away from everyone, including her, but now… It seemed silly he thought this place had once meant escape for him. Now, it truly meant escape.
Peara climbed the first two branches fine, as they were close to the ground. She had trouble leaping onto the third, but she managed. On the fourth, she missed and fell back down to the ground. She screamed in pain and fear and began to cry. Saul immediately dropped down to help her. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, kneeling to meet her on the ground. "…Be careful. You have to keep your voice down."
"My leg hurts," she cried. "I think I twisted my ankle."
"Can you walk?" Saul felt the place on her leg with his fingers and found it was swollen.
"I can walk…" she said, "but I don't think I can climb."
Saul bit his lip. They didn't have much time left… The Peacekeepers could spot them there at any moment, or even Munrow! "Ah, to hell!" he said. He took the fractured sword at his waist and impaled it into the ground so it stood upright. He would miss it, but there was no way he could go on and take it with him. Peara was more important to him than anything at this point. He put his stronger hand behind her back and the wounded one below her knees and lifted her into the air. It caused him unimaginable strain, but he fought through it. If he was going to have a broken arm, he wanted to have one on the other side of the fence.
He carried her to the tree he scaled to reach the branches and stepped onto the stairs one by one, being careful not to slip, nor to hold her in a way that would cause his arm to collapse. When he reached the third step, he bent down and vaulted his way up. He almost fell backwards with the weight of his sister, but caught himself with his back on one of the thinner branches. He looked back for a moment and saw his sword lying there on the ground. He wanted to take it with him, but there was nothing to be done. Saul could almost smell the smoke…
He eventually fought his way to the canopy. These branches had grown through each other to become a sort of bumpy hallway. He had also partially built it himself. It was the only place in the entire orchard where he could walk as easily as if he were on the ground, since the branches were so tightly woven.
"Where are we going?" Peara asked.
"Don't worry about it right now," Saul grunted while he passed over the stump that he remembered from his childhood. Painful memories started to wash back, but he repressed them. Now was not the time to remember. Now was the time to move forward.
"We're going to be killed aren't we?"
"Not if I can help it," Saul replied. There was the oak with the bent trunk… He wished he had a place to sit now. The strain of carrying his sister was already making his arms grow weary.
"Saul… Why don't we just go to the Games? Is it really worth it to run away like this?"
"Why would you ever want to be in the Hunger Games?" he asked, taking a moment to breathe. As he stepped further, he noticed the conjoined trees below him, making a bit more of the pathway ahead. "They're a terrible thing. No one should ever have to feel that pain."
Peara sighed in his arms. "I may die out here. I may die in the Games… I don't want to, but I know it's going to happen. Everyone keeps telling me that."
"You're not going to die."
"But then you'll die instead!" she cried. "One of us has to die! It's what happens in the Games."
"Neither of us are going to die. We're going to be safe. We're going to get out of here." The determination was there, overriding the pain Saul felt in his arm and shoulder.
"I want to go there because… if I'm going to die, I at least want to go in a way that people will remember. I can handle death. What I can't handle is being forgotten."
That made Saul stop for a moment. He looked his sister deep in her eyes. "I would never forget you. You are the only person I care about, you understand?"
"…Yes." She sighed, lying her head against her brother's shoulder. It sent knives of pain into his arm, but he bore through it.
Saul passed the largest tree in the orchard, the one that marked the boundary between the orchard and the forest behind it. It also marked a boundary in himself. He spent a few moments remembering the first time he'd become a murderer before continuing on his way.
"You're hurt, too," Peara said, noticing the bandage.
"I'm dealing with it," he lied. The pain was excruciating right now. Whatever strength he wasn't using to navigate the branches while carrying his sister he was using to keep himself from crying out in pain. Every time he felt the urge to give up, he just cursed Munrow's name and carried on. This was all his fault. This was all his fault…
"Saul…" said Peara, lightly. He didn't answer. "Saul… look at me." Saul ignored her, instead peering down at the last tree on the path: Beth's tree. It was the one where she had taken herself from him. He missed her so much, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to his sister. "Saul!"
The last call for his attention finally echoed through him, bouncing him awake. Peara was in tears. The sight finally broke him in and he felt the tears flowing to his eyes too. He set her down near the trunk of one tree and collapsed on the trunk of another. He knew he wasn't the cause of any of this, yet seeing his sister in this kind of stress made him feel somewhat responsible. It was as if he had put that cut into her neck himself.
"Where are we going?" she asked through the tears.
"The scorch," he answered. "It's where I used to spend all my time, before Munrow took that away from me too. They burnt it to the ground, Peara."
"Why would they do that?" she cried.
"So they would name him a hero of the District… So that he would have a reason to name me a traitor."
Peara looked down at Beth's tree, although she hadn't ever seen it before. "We have to go back," she said.
"No," Saul replied. "We can't go back. We've come this far."
The lights from the flashlights started to spill into the darkness beneath them. "That's his sword!" he heard Munrow bark to the Peacekeepers. "He's around here somewhere!" It was only a matter of time now.
"Yes… Saul, we have to go back," she repeated. "I know you think you know where you're going, but you don't. You just want to get away… I just want to go home."
"We'll find a new home."
"We won't!" she cried loudly. Saul reached out to quiet her down, but it was too late. "Don't you see? It's over! We're done! It isn't worth it!"
"It is worth it!" Saul shouted back at her. The tears were now flowing down his face as well. "It's the only chance we have, and we have to take it!"
Peara didn't respond. She just stared at her brother, knowing the decision was up to him. He knew it too. As hard as she wanted him to stop, Saul knew that getting out of the District was the best thing for her—she just couldn't see it yet. Sure, maybe he didn't know where he was going after they reached the fence, but any place had to be better than the Hunger Games, right?
He peered to his right, and saw the light at the end of the tunnel. They were so close. He could even see the sunrise gently lifting off the horizon. Beyond that tree laid the wastelands that was once his second home. The freedom was so close he could almost taste it, but now he wasn't sure whether it was sweet or more bitter… There was only one way to tell.
75% of readers chose to [A. Run.]
Saul bit his lip and summoned the strength to stand. Their freedom was right there beyond his fingertips. It was theirs for the taking… If they didn't try now, they would be sent to the Games, and even if one of them managed to win, they would be a slave to the Capitol and to Snow for the rest of their lives. This was their only shot.
"I'm sorry, Pea, but we have to do this," said Saul, focusing on the end of the tunnel. "We're going."
"We can't!" she cried, standing up beside him. "We don't have anywhere to go!"
Saul shushed her, putting a finger to her lips. The lights were growing closer, and he could make out three Peacekeepers armed with rifles. They scouted around the area and one of them almost passed directly under the place where the two of them were hiding. The only reason they hadn't been caught yet was their altitude.
"What are they going to do when they catch us?" Peara whispered after the guards were all out of earshot.
Saul shook his head promptly. "They're not going to find us. We're here… We're so close…"
Saul once again lifted his sister in the air, despite his wounds. He leapt from branch to branch, being careful only to step on ones he knew were sturdy enough to support both of their weights. The light at the end of the tunnel drew ever closer…
"Where are we going to go?" Peara asked him. "Once we get away?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet. We'll find somewhere. Maybe we'll join a different District." He sighed. "Anything is going to be better than staying in Eleven. The other Districts are full of people with skin like you. You'll be more accepted there. You're the same as they are."
"But then they'll hate you instead," she replied.
Saul didn't respond. He only moved forward. "I can take it."
They reached the edge of the forest, where it had burnt away. It hadn't been the edge until that day a week ago. The forest used to cover this valley like a blanket of green. In the autumn, he would often come out here with nothing else to keep himself busy than to watch the flow of the glistening red and brown leaves. Now, those trees had been replaced with stumps and logs and fallen branches. Everything was burnt to a crisp. "What happened here?" Peara asked.
"Don't worry about it," Saul replied, gazing out upon the world that used to be his home once more before he set Peara down on her feet. "Do you think you can take the drop to the ground?"
"I'll fall and hurt myself like before!"
"No, you won't," he reassured her. "Aim for that pile of dead leaves, there, and tuck and roll when you hit the ground. It makes the leaves take the fall for you."
"…okay," she replied, though she was shivering. She turned and gazed down toward the scorched earth. In actuality, it wasn't all that far to the ground—maybe one story. It was the same as if Saul had jumped from the roof of the cottage. It would have hurt, but nothing he couldn't walk off. Peara, however, was having more trouble. She kept swinging her arms in preparation for the leap, but couldn't quite find the courage to make it. "I can't do it," she said finally.
"Yes you can. You have to. Here, I'll jump down first." Saul took a step back and leapt forward into the open. The fall didn't take long. He'd fallen from a lot higher than this before and walked away. Of course, he was a climber. When he hit the ground, he diverted his energy by somersaulting into the brush. A spike of pain shot through his side, and more so in his wounded arm, but he stood up and peered back to his sister at the top of the tree. "Now jump. I'll catch you."
"But your arm!" She called down.
"My arm will be fine!" he shouted back. "Just jump! We don't have much time!"
"…Okay," she sighed. She backed up just out of the range of Saul's vision. He lifted his arms up to catch her, but a few moments passed by, and she still hadn't jumped. Maybe she hadn't felt comfortable with it yet… Now was not the time to get cold feet.
"Peara?" Saul called back up, expecting a reply. One didn't come. He sighed and looked around at the rotten landscape behind him. Although everything in the valley was dead, navigating it would still be a better fate than ending up in the hands of the Capitol. He kicked some ash on the ground. Oddly enough, instead of burnt trunks protruding from the ground, there was nothing… There certainly wasn't anything to show for the burnings in a certain patch of the forest. Saul was almost certain there was no clearing there, yet the tree trunks weren't burnt. They were gone.
He only had a moment to ponder before he heard a whistling from above. He almost fell backwards. Instead of Peara standing atop the tree, there was Munrow, his eyes drilling down at him. "Munrow?!" Saul shouted. "What the hell?!" There wasn't much room for a reply before a Peacekeeper appeared behind him, holding Peara hostage in his arms. She was kicking as hard as she could to get away, but it was no use. Another Peacekeeper stepped up behind Munrow and clicked a switch on his visor to retract it. Behind the helmet he saw the face of Jerrem glaring back down at him. This time he was armed with a rifle…
"Let her go!" Saul cried, yet he knew it was no use. He knew they had been caught, but he couldn't give up hope yet. He couldn't give up his freedom. "Damn it, Munrow! I said let her go!"
Munrow's lips curled into a slight smile before saying, "The Hawk will reap its prey."
Jerrem the Peacekeeper lifted the rifle into the air and aimed it at Saul. He turned and tried to flee, but there wasn't enough time. The gun fired without warning, and he was struck in the abdomen with what felt like fire tearing through his flesh. He collided with the ground after he felt the full force of the pain and screamed in ferocious agony. He heard the thuds of the Peacekeepers landing on the ground behind him. They rushed up and grabbed him by the arms, and began to hastily and angrily drag him back to the forest. He tried to peer to see the faces of his attackers, but they were blurry. He wanted deeply to spit in their faces and show them what they had done to him, but he couldn't bring himself to. He felt his consciousness gradually start to slip away. He felt the freedom he had rightly earned roll away from him like sand through his fingertips. And finally he accept the truth. They had lost. Munrow had won. The Capitol had won.
And then everything went black.
End of Chapter 21
Saul Arrem
The flame was low, yet it gave off a warm glow. Saul held it close to his chest. It was the only thing he felt like he knew in this District anymore. Fire was predictable. You fan it, and it grow taller. Leave it out for too long and it will slowly fade away until there is nothing left to burn. He wondered if these thoughts had run through Munrow's head when he burnt down the forest. Could he truly have controlled it, or was he simply letting it spiral away from him like a volatile animal? He wasn't sure whatever came of that fire in the valley… Like every other, it was probably smothered eventually in its own wake. He had to put these thoughts behind him now; there was little time.
Saul flung through the town that he had grown up in like a whisper. In the dead of night, no one would spot him—they had all gone to sleep. In his absence last night, Munrow had accidentally left the hatch unlocked. It had seemed very careless of his old master, but he didn't leave himself much time to ponder. Every second that slipped by was one he was closer to freedom.
By the time Saul awoke from his forced slumber, night had already fallen, leaving an unfinished day of training behind. Yet Saul decided this was his last day in this dusty dungeon. After what happened that morning, he was done. The wound in his arm still hurt like hell, but it was sealed up for the most part. He finished it off by ripping his shirt into bits of bandages. He'd lost a lot of blood, but it was shut now, and he was still breathing. He hadn't had time to clean it.
In the hand opposite the one holding his candle, Saul clenched the hilt of his sword (it had shattered earlier that day on contact with Munrow's armor, but it still functioned as a nasty, sharp shiv). It hurt his arm to do so, but right now, he didn't care. It was his one protection against prying eyes. Luckily, the lights around town were all off. Still, he didn't like being out after curfew. That was when the bad people came out… At least that's how Ethel always put it.
Peacekeepers began to stroll down the side of the street and Saul quickly pressed himself against the wall. He held his breath so as not to let any sound escape his lips. He knew where he was going. Just around the corner and all the way down to Harbor Way… Then there was a long dirt path leading back to the apple orchard in which Munrow was holding his sister. Tonight was the night they would escape…
Saul snuck out from behind the wall of the apothecary. The windows were all grated shut so that the "bad people" couldn't get in. Hopefully no one inside could hear him scuttling around out here just beyond their walls. He made his way around the northern side of the building and found another dark corner to hide from the patrolling officers as they passed by.
Two Peacekeepers wandered dangerously close to where he was hiding. Both had their black visors down so Saul couldn't see their faces, but they were both gripping the batons on their sides. While they appeared very cautious, their conversation suggested otherwise.
"And there was this guy last night wandering around drunk—" began the fat one with a gut.
The short one chuckled in response. "Oh no. Was it on Miracle Avenue?"
"Miracle Avenue. You're exactly right." He sat on the steps of a building exactly opposite the one Saul was hiding behind, and he was glad that he was so heavily concealed by shadows. He would have been seen in plain daylight. He pressed himself as far into the corner as he could.
"So, this guy, long scraggly beard, came just waltzing down the side of the street," he continued. "He had a bottle of liquor in his hand, not concealed or anything."
"No way. I would have killed to get something like that."
"Hey… Jerrem… Don't say stuff like that. You know our conversations are recorded."
"Ah, I was only joking." The Peacekeeper named Jerrem waved his arm away. "So, what did you do about this guy?"
"Acutlaly, it was more like what he did…" He ran mailed fingers across his baton. "Before I even managed to pull this thing out he just started wailing."
"Bout what?"
"The end…" He sighed emotionally. "I don't know what it was the end of, for god's sake, but he wouldn't stop yelling about how it's coming."
"Get a hold of yourself, Gally." The short Peacekeeper took him by the shoulder, sitting down beside him. "Just a doomsayer. They're annoying but harmless."
"I know, but I just started to think… What if he was right?"
"Man, he was drunk… Spouting out any sort of random crap he can just to get out of getting beat to hell… It's like a bribe, except he's got no money."
"He said some really weird things though, man. He kept saying we've reached a reckoning. This year will be the last, and he really wouldn't shut up about whatever owl knows and doesn't know. I know it's probably just nonsense, but, I don't know… Something kind of got to me."
From what he was describing, Saul knew of the man in the Peacekeeper's story. There was an old man named Len who hung around the road to the orchard all the time, begging for change. Saul had never seen him with any alcohol, but he guessed it was just because he was saving it for his midnight strolls into police custody. Saul never talked to him but for a few times. Most times he was a sensible and reasonable sort, but he did mention the end more than once. All in all, he was a rather sweet old man. Saul hoped no harm had come to him.
"Just forget it, man. Don't pay attention to any of that stuff. It's all rubbish," Jerrem continued. "You ask me, it's just one more thing to take people's minds off the real world. Don't believe in doomsday. Believe in this." And he held up the baton.
They continued conversing for a while, and Saul had no choice but to remain in the shadowy corner. Before long, a small streak of orange fell from the sky and a small tabby cat emerged in front of him. It began to walk around in circles before pausing to peer upon Saul's hiding place, as if it was doubtful of something. Great…
It stepped up to Saul and began to poke him gently with its paw. It meowed softly and caught the attention of the guards. Saul closed his eyes, just hoping somehow they wouldn't notice him. The longer he sat there and the more jabs he was given by the cat, the closer he was to being caught.
A few more pokes later, the cat leapt onto Saul's arm. Unfortunately, it was the one he'd hastily wrapped in scraps of his own shirt. Whoever's cat this was really needed to get their claws trimmed. Saul fought back the pain as hard as he could. Tears welled in his eyes, yet he knew he couldn't make a sound.
"You ever seen something like that?" The short Peacekeeper seemed amused. "Cats do some of the strangest things…"
"Probably just a dead bird or something," the taller one responded. "As I've learned, it's best not to try and understand animals. You're never going to go anywhere but backwards."
Saul lifted his foot as carefully as he could and nudged the cat slightly, knocking it from his arm. It jumped away with shock and stared him down relentlessly with its giant green eyes. Its gaze felt hot on him, and he knew the pair of Peacekeepers were doing the same. Saul opened one eye and saw the skinny one removing his visor to get a better view into the darkness.
The cat meowed at him and he held his breath, making sure to make as little sound as possible. But eventually, the larger Peacekeeper, Gally, grew tired of watching. "Ah, screw this," he said, and took out his baton. He heaved it at the hat, but it missed, instead frightening it away. The flung baton passed right by the cat and struck Saul in the arm right beside his wound. All of a sudden, he felt like he had been stabbed all over again, knives piercing every bit of his skin. But he stayed quiet, even though he wanted to scream loud enough to wake all of District Eleven.
"Dude, don't hurt the cat." Jerrem smacked his friend on the shoulder. "It didn't do nothing to you."
"It was acting bloody weird," Gally replied. He stood up, and gradually inched towards Saul. Every step the man took was another knot in Saul's stomach. While he was thoroughly covered by the shadow of the wall, there was no way Gally wouldn't see him when he was close enough to pick up the baton. It was resting only a foot in front of him…
And finally, the Peacekeeper grew close enough to see him. "What the hell?" Gally reached over and grabbed the boy by the shoulder and pulled him out into what little light there was left in the night. "Who the hell are you? You know it's after curfew, right?"
"Yes…" Saul choked through the dust, and began to breathe deeply, like he had taught himself when he was younger. "I ws just making my way home."
"That's illegal, boy," Jerrem said. "I could beat you to a pulp right here if I wanted to."
Gally shook his head. "I'm going to have to write you up. What's your name?"
Saul used his good arm to prop himself up into a sitting position. "Saul Arrem…" he muttered. "I wasn't trying to do anything wrong. I was just making my way to my sister…"
"Arrem?" Jerrem scoffed. "That the name of that orphan girl who can't decide what color she is?"
"…Yeah," Saul sighed, holding back his resentment and the pain in his arm. "She's my sister."
"Well then, we're two lucky sons of a gun, ain't we Gally?" the skinny Peacekeeper laughed, turning back to Saul. "You know how much ruckus your sister causes down at the station? I've been to the scene of at least three fights that started 'cause of her. She's practically famous here… They call her the gray devil." Saul winced at hearing that name. He'd never heard it before, but he never wanted to hear it again.
"Yeah… lucky." Gally turned on a tiny flashlight mounted on his helmet, and placed a pad of paper on his knee to write with. "Going to your sister, you say? You live in town?"
"No… We live just outside of the town limits, near the apple orchard. You know it?" It wasn't really true. St. Rhodes' was well within city limits, but he didn't need to go there.
"Oh yeah," he replied. "I pick up apples from his shop from time to time. Good man, him. You know him?"
"More than I'd like…"
He shined his head flashlight onto Saul and looked him up and down. His eyes settled on the bloody bandage that was Saul's shoulder. "You're hurt, boy," he said. "That doesn't look like any form of treatment you'll get down at the sick bay. What happened to you?"
"I did something stupid. Got a nasty scar for it." Saul didn't want to tell the Peacekeeper any more. He just wanted him to put his blinding light away and get to the orchard.
"Well, I'll just have to escort you on down to the jail where you'll spend—" Gally looked back at him, shining the flashlight in his direction. This time, Saul's katana fragment caught a glimmer in the light and he jumped back, baton in hand. "He's got a weapon!" Saul figured there wasn't any around this now except through hem. He gripped his sword in hand and stood up swiftly. "Drop it!"
Neither of them had drawn a gun… Maybe they weren't high enough on the chain yet to have access. There were few things in Panem that were rarer than food. Guns were some of those things. Even the Peacekeeping force didn't have complete access. Jerrem drew his baton as well and came forward toward Saul.
Even though he'd only trained for a few days, Saul was used to the agility and complexity of Munrow's strikes that the Peacekeeper's lunge at him seemed very clumsy. He was easily able to block the blow with one strike, even with one arm worthless. The force of his parry offset the Peacekeeper's footing for a moment and Saul used it to swing his half-sword toward one of the chinks in his armor near his gut. It pierced through the fabric easily and blood spilled out, knocking the man to the ground.
Saul didn't have any time to reflect on the pain he'd just inflicted. HE only had one thought in mind: Peara. So it was not very long that he shot glances between the man bleeding on the ground and the other Peacekeeper looking on him in shock before he took off in silence, running through the city square. He was no longer concerned with stealth. He knew the way to the orchard…
He sprinted through the town as quickly as possible and eventually came onto the dirt path that led down to the apple orchard where Munrow was holding Peara. He didn't know whether anyone had seen him or not, seeing as it had been pitch black, but he was sure the Peacekeeper had called backup on him. The thought only made his run swifter.
He gripped the broken sword at his side, carefully making sure it didn't slip and hit him accidentally. His wounded arm hung at his side, flopping around. It hurt much less when he wasn't putting any weight on it, so he let it hang there. He needed to focus all effort into getting his sister back.
But at last, he managed upon Munrow's tiny apple shop and slowed down. He was sure people were looking for him, and he was sure that Munrow was one of them. He'd put too much time and effort into making them into the District's tributes to give up now. Saul almost felt bad for him, knowing
tonight was the night they would escape.
Saul pushed open the wooden door slowly and steadily, making sure it didn't make any noises. However, it fought very hard with him and creaked very loudly once. Saul cringed and held it still for a moment, just waiting for Munrow to appear to him and call the whole thing off. Fortunately, it never happened. He was still in the clear.
The shop was very dimly lit, rickety as always, but he'd been here so often that he knew where everything was: the board that creaked every time you stepped on it, the correct way to turn the handle of the gate so it wouldn't make any noise. He even knew to use the left door to the back room instead of the right, since the latter led to a small restroom.
When he finally made his way to the back room where he had been interrogated, it wasn't at all how he remembered it. Nothing was where it used to be. The tables and chairs had been removed, the light fixture had been ripped from the ceiling, and the room was now a shell with nothing more than four walls. That didn't matter, though, because hunched in the corner, was Peara, sleeping silently.
Peara was hunched against the wall, holding her legs between her arms. The clothes she had been wearing the last time they'd spoken had been replaced with a large sack he used to hold the apples with. It barely covered enough to be considered clothing. Saul eased closer to her, and saw a red-stained bandage between her neck and her shoulder… in the same place where he'd slashed Munrow… That bastard! Even with as little light as there was in the room, Saul could see the streaks down her cheek where she had been crying. He'd seen her like this once too many times… He missed the days when they could just be themselves at St. Rhodes'. No one made fun of Peara for the color of her skin. No one beat Saul up for defending her. It was a much nicer time to be around back then.
Saul knelt down to his sister and wiggled her knee lightly to wake her up. "Pea…" he whispered. "We gotta go. Come on." After a few more attempts, she finally came around, mumbling hoarse words. She jumped immediately, startled by Saul's touch. She twisted her head to the side and saw her brother standing there, instinctively letting out a yelp before she recognized him. Saul instantly covered her mouth with his hand and muffled the scream. "Peara!" he said, as softly as he could. "It's me. We need to get out of here now!"
"Saul?" She croaked lightly before bursting into tears and wrapping her arms tightly around her brother. "I missed you… Mr. Munrow is so mean."
"I know," he replied. "You're hurt. What happened?"
"He said whatever happened to him would happen to me. He cut me, Saul."
A jolt of anger shot through his system. He'd already been dealt a punishment for that: the wound on his arm, and now Munrow had the gall to further it on his sister? She didn't do anything wrong! "Well… Come on," he told her, using his good hand to help her to her feet. "We're getting away from him."
"Where are we going?"
Saul sighed. "A place I used to know… We'll be safe there. Come on."
He led his sister through the empty room towards the kitchen, and then towards the back door. He was shocked to find no trace of Munrow anywhere, but he wasn't complaining. It was making their escape so much easier… he stepped out the back door and closed it softly behind them after Peara had stepped into hostile night.
In the orchard, although the trees were lined up perfectly in rows, one could easily get lost within their ranks. He, however, knew exactly which way to go. Just on the other side of these trees was their freedom…
He noticed his shadow grow much taller and peered back toward the cottage behind them. The gleaming light of flashlights encompassed the building like an aura. There were angry shouts from the other side about tearing the whole place to the ground, and Saul knew they only had a matter of time. He took Peara's shoulder and spun her around. "Come on, and stay close to me."
The girl didn't respond. She was scared, but she wasn't stupid. They both knew that there was only once chance to get out of all this, and it was now. He sprinted through the trees of the orchard as fast as he could and Peara followed closely behind, her baggy clothing flopping around noisily. He darted around the tree with the large branch near its stump… east fourteen trees… north twenty-two. Here it was. There was the tree whose branches were essentially a staircase to the canopy. He'd been here so often that he only took a few seconds to scale them. Peara, though, had never been here before. This was always the place where he'd spent time away from everyone, including her, but now… It seemed silly he thought this place had once meant escape for him. Now, it truly meant escape.
Peara climbed the first two branches fine, as they were close to the ground. She had trouble leaping onto the third, but she managed. On the fourth, she missed and fell back down to the ground. She screamed in pain and fear and began to cry. Saul immediately dropped down to help her. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, kneeling to meet her on the ground. "…Be careful. You have to keep your voice down."
"My leg hurts," she cried. "I think I twisted my ankle."
"Can you walk?" Saul felt the place on her leg with his fingers and found it was swollen.
"I can walk…" she said, "but I don't think I can climb."
Saul bit his lip. They didn't have much time left… The Peacekeepers could spot them there at any moment, or even Munrow! "Ah, to hell!" he said. He took the fractured sword at his waist and impaled it into the ground so it stood upright. He would miss it, but there was no way he could go on and take it with him. Peara was more important to him than anything at this point. He put his stronger hand behind her back and the wounded one below her knees and lifted her into the air. It caused him unimaginable strain, but he fought through it. If he was going to have a broken arm, he wanted to have one on the other side of the fence.
He carried her to the tree he scaled to reach the branches and stepped onto the stairs one by one, being careful not to slip, nor to hold her in a way that would cause his arm to collapse. When he reached the third step, he bent down and vaulted his way up. He almost fell backwards with the weight of his sister, but caught himself with his back on one of the thinner branches. He looked back for a moment and saw his sword lying there on the ground. He wanted to take it with him, but there was nothing to be done. Saul could almost smell the smoke…
He eventually fought his way to the canopy. These branches had grown through each other to become a sort of bumpy hallway. He had also partially built it himself. It was the only place in the entire orchard where he could walk as easily as if he were on the ground, since the branches were so tightly woven.
"Where are we going?" Peara asked.
"Don't worry about it right now," Saul grunted while he passed over the stump that he remembered from his childhood. Painful memories started to wash back, but he repressed them. Now was not the time to remember. Now was the time to move forward.
"We're going to be killed aren't we?"
"Not if I can help it," Saul replied. There was the oak with the bent trunk… He wished he had a place to sit now. The strain of carrying his sister was already making his arms grow weary.
"Saul… Why don't we just go to the Games? Is it really worth it to run away like this?"
"Why would you ever want to be in the Hunger Games?" he asked, taking a moment to breathe. As he stepped further, he noticed the conjoined trees below him, making a bit more of the pathway ahead. "They're a terrible thing. No one should ever have to feel that pain."
Peara sighed in his arms. "I may die out here. I may die in the Games… I don't want to, but I know it's going to happen. Everyone keeps telling me that."
"You're not going to die."
"But then you'll die instead!" she cried. "One of us has to die! It's what happens in the Games."
"Neither of us are going to die. We're going to be safe. We're going to get out of here." The determination was there, overriding the pain Saul felt in his arm and shoulder.
"I want to go there because… if I'm going to die, I at least want to go in a way that people will remember. I can handle death. What I can't handle is being forgotten."
That made Saul stop for a moment. He looked his sister deep in her eyes. "I would never forget you. You are the only person I care about, you understand?"
"…Yes." She sighed, lying her head against her brother's shoulder. It sent knives of pain into his arm, but he bore through it.
Saul passed the largest tree in the orchard, the one that marked the boundary between the orchard and the forest behind it. It also marked a boundary in himself. He spent a few moments remembering the first time he'd become a murderer before continuing on his way.
"You're hurt, too," Peara said, noticing the bandage.
"I'm dealing with it," he lied. The pain was excruciating right now. Whatever strength he wasn't using to navigate the branches while carrying his sister he was using to keep himself from crying out in pain. Every time he felt the urge to give up, he just cursed Munrow's name and carried on. This was all his fault. This was all his fault…
"Saul…" said Peara, lightly. He didn't answer. "Saul… look at me." Saul ignored her, instead peering down at the last tree on the path: Beth's tree. It was the one where she had taken herself from him. He missed her so much, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to his sister. "Saul!"
The last call for his attention finally echoed through him, bouncing him awake. Peara was in tears. The sight finally broke him in and he felt the tears flowing to his eyes too. He set her down near the trunk of one tree and collapsed on the trunk of another. He knew he wasn't the cause of any of this, yet seeing his sister in this kind of stress made him feel somewhat responsible. It was as if he had put that cut into her neck himself.
"Where are we going?" she asked through the tears.
"The scorch," he answered. "It's where I used to spend all my time, before Munrow took that away from me too. They burnt it to the ground, Peara."
"Why would they do that?" she cried.
"So they would name him a hero of the District… So that he would have a reason to name me a traitor."
Peara looked down at Beth's tree, although she hadn't ever seen it before. "We have to go back," she said.
"No," Saul replied. "We can't go back. We've come this far."
The lights from the flashlights started to spill into the darkness beneath them. "That's his sword!" he heard Munrow bark to the Peacekeepers. "He's around here somewhere!" It was only a matter of time now.
"Yes… Saul, we have to go back," she repeated. "I know you think you know where you're going, but you don't. You just want to get away… I just want to go home."
"We'll find a new home."
"We won't!" she cried loudly. Saul reached out to quiet her down, but it was too late. "Don't you see? It's over! We're done! It isn't worth it!"
"It is worth it!" Saul shouted back at her. The tears were now flowing down his face as well. "It's the only chance we have, and we have to take it!"
Peara didn't respond. She just stared at her brother, knowing the decision was up to him. He knew it too. As hard as she wanted him to stop, Saul knew that getting out of the District was the best thing for her—she just couldn't see it yet. Sure, maybe he didn't know where he was going after they reached the fence, but any place had to be better than the Hunger Games, right?
He peered to his right, and saw the light at the end of the tunnel. They were so close. He could even see the sunrise gently lifting off the horizon. Beyond that tree laid the wastelands that was once his second home. The freedom was so close he could almost taste it, but now he wasn't sure whether it was sweet or more bitter… There was only one way to tell.
75% of readers chose to [A. Run.]
Saul bit his lip and summoned the strength to stand. Their freedom was right there beyond his fingertips. It was theirs for the taking… If they didn't try now, they would be sent to the Games, and even if one of them managed to win, they would be a slave to the Capitol and to Snow for the rest of their lives. This was their only shot.
"I'm sorry, Pea, but we have to do this," said Saul, focusing on the end of the tunnel. "We're going."
"We can't!" she cried, standing up beside him. "We don't have anywhere to go!"
Saul shushed her, putting a finger to her lips. The lights were growing closer, and he could make out three Peacekeepers armed with rifles. They scouted around the area and one of them almost passed directly under the place where the two of them were hiding. The only reason they hadn't been caught yet was their altitude.
"What are they going to do when they catch us?" Peara whispered after the guards were all out of earshot.
Saul shook his head promptly. "They're not going to find us. We're here… We're so close…"
Saul once again lifted his sister in the air, despite his wounds. He leapt from branch to branch, being careful only to step on ones he knew were sturdy enough to support both of their weights. The light at the end of the tunnel drew ever closer…
"Where are we going to go?" Peara asked him. "Once we get away?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet. We'll find somewhere. Maybe we'll join a different District." He sighed. "Anything is going to be better than staying in Eleven. The other Districts are full of people with skin like you. You'll be more accepted there. You're the same as they are."
"But then they'll hate you instead," she replied.
Saul didn't respond. He only moved forward. "I can take it."
They reached the edge of the forest, where it had burnt away. It hadn't been the edge until that day a week ago. The forest used to cover this valley like a blanket of green. In the autumn, he would often come out here with nothing else to keep himself busy than to watch the flow of the glistening red and brown leaves. Now, those trees had been replaced with stumps and logs and fallen branches. Everything was burnt to a crisp. "What happened here?" Peara asked.
"Don't worry about it," Saul replied, gazing out upon the world that used to be his home once more before he set Peara down on her feet. "Do you think you can take the drop to the ground?"
"I'll fall and hurt myself like before!"
"No, you won't," he reassured her. "Aim for that pile of dead leaves, there, and tuck and roll when you hit the ground. It makes the leaves take the fall for you."
"…okay," she replied, though she was shivering. She turned and gazed down toward the scorched earth. In actuality, it wasn't all that far to the ground—maybe one story. It was the same as if Saul had jumped from the roof of the cottage. It would have hurt, but nothing he couldn't walk off. Peara, however, was having more trouble. She kept swinging her arms in preparation for the leap, but couldn't quite find the courage to make it. "I can't do it," she said finally.
"Yes you can. You have to. Here, I'll jump down first." Saul took a step back and leapt forward into the open. The fall didn't take long. He'd fallen from a lot higher than this before and walked away. Of course, he was a climber. When he hit the ground, he diverted his energy by somersaulting into the brush. A spike of pain shot through his side, and more so in his wounded arm, but he stood up and peered back to his sister at the top of the tree. "Now jump. I'll catch you."
"But your arm!" She called down.
"My arm will be fine!" he shouted back. "Just jump! We don't have much time!"
"…Okay," she sighed. She backed up just out of the range of Saul's vision. He lifted his arms up to catch her, but a few moments passed by, and she still hadn't jumped. Maybe she hadn't felt comfortable with it yet… Now was not the time to get cold feet.
"Peara?" Saul called back up, expecting a reply. One didn't come. He sighed and looked around at the rotten landscape behind him. Although everything in the valley was dead, navigating it would still be a better fate than ending up in the hands of the Capitol. He kicked some ash on the ground. Oddly enough, instead of burnt trunks protruding from the ground, there was nothing… There certainly wasn't anything to show for the burnings in a certain patch of the forest. Saul was almost certain there was no clearing there, yet the tree trunks weren't burnt. They were gone.
He only had a moment to ponder before he heard a whistling from above. He almost fell backwards. Instead of Peara standing atop the tree, there was Munrow, his eyes drilling down at him. "Munrow?!" Saul shouted. "What the hell?!" There wasn't much room for a reply before a Peacekeeper appeared behind him, holding Peara hostage in his arms. She was kicking as hard as she could to get away, but it was no use. Another Peacekeeper stepped up behind Munrow and clicked a switch on his visor to retract it. Behind the helmet he saw the face of Jerrem glaring back down at him. This time he was armed with a rifle…
"Let her go!" Saul cried, yet he knew it was no use. He knew they had been caught, but he couldn't give up hope yet. He couldn't give up his freedom. "Damn it, Munrow! I said let her go!"
Munrow's lips curled into a slight smile before saying, "The Hawk will reap its prey."
Jerrem the Peacekeeper lifted the rifle into the air and aimed it at Saul. He turned and tried to flee, but there wasn't enough time. The gun fired without warning, and he was struck in the abdomen with what felt like fire tearing through his flesh. He collided with the ground after he felt the full force of the pain and screamed in ferocious agony. He heard the thuds of the Peacekeepers landing on the ground behind him. They rushed up and grabbed him by the arms, and began to hastily and angrily drag him back to the forest. He tried to peer to see the faces of his attackers, but they were blurry. He wanted deeply to spit in their faces and show them what they had done to him, but he couldn't bring himself to. He felt his consciousness gradually start to slip away. He felt the freedom he had rightly earned roll away from him like sand through his fingertips. And finally he accept the truth. They had lost. Munrow had won. The Capitol had won.
And then everything went black.
End of Chapter 21