Hazel's heart palpitated as she sprinted towards Senator Snow and Festus Creed. The tree's immense size meant it wasn't the only threat to them but could trigger a deadly domino effect, toppling other trees in its path. The tree descended in slow motion. Leo's shouts rang in her ears, but her focus was singular - reach Snow and Festus. Her breath was ragged, and her muscles burned.
Senator Snow's eyes met hers, a flash of realization crossing his face. Hazel reached them just as the tree's massive branches began to shatter against the neighboring trees. With a force she didn't know she possessed, Hazel shoved them both hard.
"Go, move!" she shrieked as the two men stumbled backward. Behind her, the sound of splintering wood intensified as two more trees began to give way under the pressure of the falling giant.
Hazel exerted all her strength, pushing her arms against the weight of the two men. Silus's call was distant, almost lost amidst the deafening roar of the trees as they surrendered to gravity.
Her body pulsated with adrenaline as she managed to shove Snow and Festus out of the path of the collapsing trees. Just as they began to fall away from her, a vice-like grip encircled her arm. Senator Snow was dragging her along with them. A sharp, searing pain ripped across her left side as the branches, like cruel daggers, tore through her skin, leaving a fiery trail of agony from her neck down to her shoulder.
With one final burst of effort, she wrenched herself forward, using her right arm and the momentum of Senator Snow's grip to escape the last of the malicious branches. The three of them collapsed in a disheveled heap on the forest floor, just a breath away from the massive trees now lying defeated behind them.
The sound of the trees' impact reverberated through the arena, a resounding, resonating echo that shook the entire arena. Hazel lay motionless for a moment, panting.
The three colossal redwoods now rested against the forest floor. The massive trunks lay uprooted, exposing a network of frail, spindly roots sprawled in every direction. A cloud of dust and dirt, stirred up by the trees' descent, hung in the air like a dense fog, casting a surreal haze over the scene. Hazel's eyes narrowed as she studied the uprooted base; the roots were like twisted, mangled spider legs.
Hazel glanced back at Snow and Festus; they appeared as disoriented as she felt. The trio, united in their shared brush with death, struggled to catch their breaths. Their heavy panting filled the air, mingling with the residual echoes of the trees' fall.
Festus ran his hands through his curls. "Oh my god."
Senator Snow’s eyes focused on hers; his usually pristine blonde hair was messy, and his blue eyes brimmed with surprise. The white flower that adorned his lapel was gone, lost in the chaos. He studied Hazel as if he was seeing her for the first time. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something when Silus' voice calling her name snapped Hazel back to the present. She turned to see him and Leo picking their way through the debris of the fallen trees, avoiding the tangled mess of branches and trunks.
"Are you ok?" Silus asked, concern etched in his features.
"Yeah, I think so," Hazel responded in a hushed tone
Leo scanned Snow and Festus, reaching out to help them stand, brows furrowed, "Are you two alright?"
Festus nodded, dazed, "Insane."
A crowd of peacekeepers and other spectators, drawn by the sound of the commotion, began to converge on their location within the District Seven tract.
Silus reached down and grabbed Hazel's arm to help her up when she winced and took a deep intake of breath due to the swift pain that ignited over her skin. Silus, observant as ever, stepped closer. His hands peeled back the collar of her shirt, "You're bleeding."
A damp sensation she had been attempting to ignore now demanded her attention. Starting at her neck, the wetness trailed down her left arm and back. Looking down, she saw dark red stains blossoming through her shirt, forming elongated stripes down her arm.
"Haze, we need to get you some medical attention," Silus met her eyes.
"I think I'm fine," Hazel shrugged, biting back the agony. "It's just some scratches."
Silus looked unconvinced, and he didn't move backward, continuing to look at her arm. He cast a glance at the three men before he leaned closer, mumbling, "Why did you do that?"
She glanced around; the crowd was growing. "Because it's what you would have done." Her voice was a soft murmur meant only for her brother's ears.
Silus grunted, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
Leo barked orders into his radio, his words clipped and urgent, calling for medical assistance.
The sudden convergence of camera crews and onlookers created a whirlwind of activity around them. "Senator Snow, Mr. Creed," several members of the press called out. Cameras pointed at the group stumbling their way out of the District Seven tract. What happened?" Dr. Gaul hurried toward them. Her eyes were glinting, and her mouth was squashed into a solid, thin line. It was odd not to see her sharp teeth, but her smile was long gone.
"She saved us," Snow announced, nodding towards Hazel.
Festus smiled, interjecting, "Both of them did," gesturing to Silus and the fallen trees. "Silus noticed the trees were coming down, and Hazel pushed us out of the way."
The crowd buzzed with excitement at this revelation, their attention now fixated on Hazel and Silus.
Dr. Gaul's sharp gaze lingered on the tributes from District Seven, her expression thoughtful. "What caused the trees to fall?" she inquired.
Hazel looked back at the fallen redwoods. They were highly unusual. It appeared the first tree had fallen at the root.
"Hard to say; they just started falling out of nowhere," Festus replied, seizing the moment. "But what I do know is that my tributes here are heroes. They even saved a senator's life."
"Heroes indeed," echoed Dr. Gaul, her eyes locking with Senator Snow's for a brief moment.
The audience reacted enthusiastically, and a few individuals even broke into applause. Questions came pouring in, and Hazel and Silus found themselves surrounded by the curious and the probing. But amidst the buzz of inquiries, a relentless burn demanded her attention. She pressed her right hand against the source of the agony; a warm wetness coated her fingers. She withdrew her hand; it was dripping in crimson.
Senator Snow watched her stare at her hand. He stepped forward, placing his body between Hazel and the cameras. "Give her some space, everyone," he commanded with an elegant smile. He leaned in towards her, his deep voice momentarily distracted her from her own blood, "That is more than a scratch; we need to get you some help."
Hazel stared back at him without answering. Why did it matter to him?
Senator Snow straightened, addressing Leo, "Where is medical?"
"On their way, Sir," Leo replied. His eyes narrowed as they flitted between Senator Snow and Hazel.
Senator Snow began to take off his jacket, the cameras zooming in to capture the moment. He pulled the elegant fabric from his long arms before he extended it towards Hazel, intending to drape it over her.
Hazel, wincing from the pain, raised her uninjured arm to stop him. "No, I can't accept that," she insisted. "I'm not cold, really. And you'll get blood on it."
"Miss Marlowe…" Senator Snow began.
"Thank you for your offer, Senator," Silus interjected, his voice low but clear. He shifted closer to Hazel, his solid shoulder brushing her arm. But we wouldn't want to give the wrong impression." He scanned the crowd before he met Senator Snow's gaze.
Senator Snow searched Silus's face, his eyebrow twitched, and the edge of his lips twitched.
Suddenly, the arena's atmosphere was disrupted by an ear-piercing scream. It was a harrowing, desperate cry of terror that sounded like it belonged to a female. The sound was so chilling and raw that it cut through the air, sending a wave of panic across the gathered crowd. Everyone's heads whipped around in unison, their eyes wide as they searched the surroundings.
The peacekeepers sprang into action, sprinting toward another section of the arena. The scream, though distant and unintelligible, continued to echo around them. The fear and urgency in the voice vibrated through the arena with an intensity that left Hazel rooted to the spot, her heart pounding in her chest.
Leo's eyes scanned the arena in search of the source of the piercing screams. In his hand, he held a weapon, and several peacekeepers who hadn't rushed toward the disturbance also prepared themselves for whatever might come next. As the screaming persisted, Leo assumed command, his voice authoritative. "Let's head back toward the center, everyone."
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The audience responded to his directive, beginning to retreat toward the open expanse of the dodecagon. The screams reached a feverish pitch before ceasing. A queasy sensation churned in her gut, "Leo, what's going on?"
Leo skimmed her face, jaw tightening before he stared off into the distance, "I don't know."
She scanned the arena, her eyes settling on the tract designated for District Eight. More peacekeepers were converging in that direction, but the chaos obscured any view of what was unfolding.
Leo's radio buzzed to life. He jerked it to his ear, and as he listened, his intent expression betrayed a hint of shock. With a stern command, he addressed those around him. "All tributes, line up here in front of me. Everyone else, make your way back to the helicopters." He pointed to two of his fellow peacekeepers who stood at the ready with their weapons drawn.
"What's going on?" Senator Snow voiced the question that was on everyone's mind.
Leo's response was measured, "I'm not at liberty to say," he stated firmly, though the concern in his stormy gray eyes was evident. With his weapon in hand, he directed the tributes to move and began to organize them into a line.
The tributes separated from their mentors, who glanced back at them as they trudged back to the helicopters. Leo didn't spare them any special instructions; instead, he turned his attention to the press workers. "You too," he commanded. They followed his directive, albeit begrudgingly, and joined the mentors in heading back to the helicopters.
Dr. Gaul, Senator Snow, and Festus, however, stood their ground and refused to leave.
"Doctor, Senator, and Mr. Creed," Leo began, his tone respectful yet resolute, "I need you all to head back to the center of the arena."
Dr. Gaul's irritation was palpable as she retorted, "I demand to know what's going on. As Head Gamemaker, I am entitled to know what is ruining the unveiling of my arena."
Leo remained composed, "Yes, Doctor, I understand," he acknowledged. "Commander Drayton is on his way, and he will explain shortly. But please, for your safety, return to the center of the arena."
Dr. Gaul relented with a scowl and followed the rest of the group’s lead, a peacekeeper by her side.
Senator Snow and Festus remained steadfast in their decision to stay behind. Senator Snow’s eyes lingered on Hazel, “You have an injured tribute who needs medical attention," he pointed out.
Festus chimed in, "Yes, I want to ensure she is given treatment.”
As the other peacekeepers had the tributes lined up, the District Eight tributes were absent from the lineup. The coolness of the blood on her left side began to give way to a chilling sensation, and she couldn't stop herself from shivering. Snow watched her without blinking as he addressed Leo. "I am staying here, Private.” Festus nodded in agreement.
Leo let out a breath from his nose but made no further arguments. Instead, he appeared to have accepted their decision as he turned his attention to the tributes.
He issued clear instructions, "Everyone, place your hands above your head and spread your legs to shoulder width. You are going to be searched. If any of you have any weapons or anything that may pose a threat to my peacekeepers, inform us now." His gaze scanned the line, pausing on Silus and Hazel. "You do not want one of us to find something on you without you informing us first."
The peacekeepers began their search, patting down each tribute in search of any concealed items or weapons. As a peacekeeper approached Hazel and Silus, they began the search. When they touched Hazel's left shoulder and side, she couldn't help but emit an involuntary sound of pain.
Silus raised his voice, his concern evident. "Easy.”
The peacekeeper barked, "Shut up.”
Once all were searched, Leo gave the next order: " OK, cuff them." They began pulling the tribute's hands behind their backs and placing handcuffs on them.
As a peacekeeper reached for Hazel's arms, Silus once again raised his voice in protest. "Do you have to cuff her? Seriously, what is she going to do?" he argued. Hazel winced as the stinging sensation intensified when her arms were stretched behind her.
"Silus, it's fine." She mumbled.
Silus continued to press, growing more agitated. "She’s injured, asshole."
The peacekeeper responded with firmness. "Back down seven," they retorted. "Don't care if she is injured. Can't trust you district scumbags." Leaning closer to Silus, he added, "Why do you think we are doing this?"
Hazel's hands were forced behind her back, and Silus was cuffed. Before the cuffs could click shut around her wrists, Senator Snow intervened. "That won't be necessary.” Snow's gaze was firm. "Miss Marlowe is clearly not in any condition to pose a threat."
The peacekeeper paused, "I’m following orders from Commander Drayton, sir," they explained.
Senator Snow didn't back down. "I understand, but I'm sure Leo can discuss this with his brother later. I’m sure he’ll understand."
Hazel looked up at Leo, her eyes wide with surprise. Leo’s eye twitched, but he said nothing.
"Senator," the peacekeeper began to protest again but was halted by Leo.
"I will allow it, and I will personally escort Miss Marlowe," Leo scanned Hazel, his jaw tightened.
"Thank you, Leo," Silus said, relief evident in his tone.
The peacekeepers organized the tributes into a single file, guiding them back to the waiting helicopters. Hazel, escorted by Leo, followed on Senator Snow’s heels. Her eyes flicked back to Silus, who was being directed towards another helicopter. The distance growing between them filled Hazel with unease. The reassurance of Silus's nearness had been a constant since their reaping day, and the sudden separation gnawed at her.
Leo murmured in her ear, "It's okay, he'll be alright. We need to get you help." He guided Hazel towards the helicopter, and she complied, stepping aboard with a lingering glance back at Silus, whose concerned eyes never left her.
Hazel settled into the helicopter, flanked by Snow, Leo, and Festus. She prodded her wounded arm; a dull pulse met her fingers with each beat of her heart.
Senator Snow squinted at her movements before he turned to Leo. "Private Drayton, where is the medical team? They should have been here by now."
Leo, rummaging through compartments at the back of the helicopter, answered without turning. "They are currently preoccupied." Hazel leaned back, trying to minimize contact with the helicopter's interior, conscious of the blood seeping through her shirt. The pain was intensifying, and she clenched her teeth, trying to focus on anything but the sharp stings along her arm and neck.
Senator Snow, observing her with an unnerving stare, took the seat beside her. "You are bleeding quite a lot.”
"Thank you for the update, Senator," Hazel grunted as she shifted her weight. She searched his face; he almost appeared concerned—or at least it was a convincing act of what concern should look like. Hazel stared down at the ground, "What does it matter, anyway? I will be dead the day after tomorrow."
"You don't know that," Senator Snow’s voice deepened as he continued to scrutinize her like she was a specimen in a lab. "Plus, we have to give every tribute a fighting chance. Isn't that right, Festus?"
Festus responded with enthusiasm, "Well, maybe not every tribute, but mine for sure."
"It is the least we can do, anyway," Snow continued in a softer tone, "since you saved our lives." Hazel raised her eyes to him. His sapphire eyes shone, and a soft smile graced his lips. Concern had melted to a warm gratitude that made her stomach curl. What game is this?
"Just doing my patriotic duty, Senator," Hazel shrugged, attempting a smile that couldn't quite mask the pain etched across her face.
Senator Snow glanced over his shoulder as a sizable group of peacekeepers approached, their footsteps heavy. They were dragging someone with them, a limp figure that appeared lifeless, head hanging to the side-Ian Threader. His face was swollen, blood dripped from his nose, and his hands and feet were bound. Percy led the group, his expression stern, and there were smatters of blood on his uniform, as well as on several other peacekeepers.
Ian was hauled into the helicopter alongside the other tributes. The faint rise and fall of his chest was the only indication of life Hazel could detect.
Dr. Gaul made a beeline for Percy, and Senator Snow soon joined her; together, they engaged in a heated yet hushed discussion. The trio stood just out of earshot, their conversation evidently serious and urgent. Dr. Gaul’s arms jerked wildly as she made animated gestures with her hands.
"What in the world..." Festus muttered, clearly bewildered.
Following the grim procession of peacekeepers was a smaller group of medical personnel carrying a makeshift gurney between them. A figure lay slumped on the gurney, partially covered. The peacekeepers kept their eyes focused ahead, refusing to glance down at their cargo. Hazel stared at the black material over the figure, covering her hand with her mouth as the realization settled over her- it was a body bag.
"Take off your shirt," Leo ordered in her ear, his monotone voice pulling Hazel out of her horrified trance.
Hazel's face paled at the request, still in shock from witnessing the peacekeepers removing a body from the arena. "What?" she stammered.
"I need to see your injuries," Leo repeated, his tone matter-of-fact. Hazel knew he was right, but it was something she definitely didn't want to do with Leo, Festus, Snow, and a few more peacekeepers sitting nearby in the helicopter.
She glanced out the window; the helicopter carrying the tributes had already taken off. Several others, containing mentors and camera crews, had also departed. Only two helicopters remained in the area. Snow had made his way back to them, his face unreadable.
Leo, having arranged the medical supplies beside him, turned his attention back to Hazel. "Come on, Hazel," he urged her.
Biting her lip, she pulled her left arm out of the sleeve for Leo to examine.
Senator Snow moved in front of her and held up his jacket. "Please accept it," he coaxed, a hint of the earlier warmth still coloring his tone. There aren't even any cameras this time," he winked, a half smile formed at the edge of his mouth.
Hazel stared at the offering like it was a snake about to reach out and bite her. When no trap emerged, she let out a lingering sigh and accepted the jacket. "Okay, but just because I'll be long gone before you come after me for the dry-cleaning bill," her fingers brushed against the luxurious fabric. She marveled at its softness, unlike any material she had ever felt before. The realization that it was probably the most expensive garment she had ever touched dawned on her, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for staining it with her blood. Holding Senator Snow's coat close to her chest, she whispered a sincere "Thank you.”
Senator Snow said nothing but merely smiled, tilting his head in a subtle nod.
Leo began a methodical examination of her injuries with gloved hands. "These are some deep lacerations," he remarked.
"It certainly feels that way with how you are touching them like that," Hazel replied, taking a deep breath as Leo began to clean the wounds on her neck, arm, and back.
Just then, Percy entered the helicopter, his eyes intense and stern. "What is this tribute doing here?"
"She was injured," Leo answered.
Percy’s dark eyes scrutinized Hazel, his gaze settling over her like a physical weight, "That wasn't my question."
Senator Snow addressed Percy. "Commander, I decided to bring her here.”
Hazel flinched and gritted her teeth as Leo applied the gauze, the sharp sting of the cleanser sending a shudder through her.
Percy's expression relaxed a fraction at Senator Snow's intervention, though he remained rigid. "Senator, you do understand the risks of having a tribute from the districts in close quarters. They can be... unpredictable."
Senator Snow's reply was calm yet assertive, "I understand the risks, Commander. However, in this case, I assessed that Miss Marlowe poses no threat to anyone's safety."
Percy gave a dismissive snort, "It's your decision, Senator; we'll proceed as you wish." Percy still had smears of darkening brown blood on his sleeves and jacket. "We are going to have an extra passenger on this copter."
Senator Snow paused at that, looking up at the commander, "Who?"
Percy's face darkened, and anger flashed across his brow. He looked again at Hazel. The medical peacekeepers made their way onto the vehicle with the gurney and set it down on the floor in the back, securing it with straps for the flight. Hazel's heart raced, looking at the body bag just a few yards away from her feet.
"Iris Overstreet, District Eight's mentor."