One thing that Haymitch wasn't ever going to underestimate was Katniss's ability to lay waste to whatever was in her way. While her bow and arrow skills may have come from the forest, those years of struggle had turned her into a deadly killer in the arena. It was a sick thing to appreciate, but in the end, Haymitch was happy to have three dead kids at his feet than have a cannon fired off in his honor. He had managed to get in a few good swings at the younger man before Katniss had gotten him with her arrow, the ground below their feet was now soaked with blood. The soft glow from the fire made the scene look less horrible, but the feeling of taking a life was always hard to shake and in a bittersweet way, Haymitch was glad that he hadn't gotten used to it.
Cutting the kid across the stomach had resulted in some blood on his hands, and Haymitch did his best to wipe the sticky substance away before looking to Katniss. She was checking the bodies for supplies, an action he hadn't even told her to do, she just knew. Survival mode was sometimes jarring to see in action, but Haymitch felt a little about everything—she didn't need him to get to the end—they were equal for the moment. When Katniss came back with only matches, Haymitch grabbed of their backpacks and held it open for her. Matches meant fires for the next few days, which also meant a hot meal if they managed to catch anything bigger than a bug.
“We can't stay here,” Haymitch said, giving her a look. Despite the fatigue that was reaching out to him, Haymitch didn't feel comfortable staying in the clearing after fending off three attackers. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, assuring her that he was fine and from the look of her, he gathered that she was too. The closest that any of those tributes had gotten to her was a knife that had landed at her feet. The emotional toll was something that couldn't currently be considered, and the former Victor didn't want to bring up what good murderers they made. “Maybe we can find the perimeter tonight, sleep there for a while and keep heading to the mountains in the morning.”
It was the best plan that he could come up with, the plan that Katniss had already agreed to, and Haymitch didn't think it mattered if they executed it a bit early. Pulling away from her, he grabbed the backpack and began to put out the fire, kicking some dirt onto the burning embers and watching as the light began to die away. The fire had probably given away their position to begin with, and Haymitch was currently cursing himself for letting the need for comfort outweigh their safety. “Maybe we should check your traps before we go,” he added as an afterthought, knowing that food was going to be priority soon enough.
Under constant stress and fear, sleep was hard to come by. Even though the inside of the building was completely dark, and Gale had offered to take the first watch, it was hard for Prim to actually drift off. She laid there with her eyes closed for a while, listening for any kind of noise outside, but the only sound she could hear was her own breathing, and Gale across the room. She heard him shift around, she heard his boots repeatedly hitting the floor and soon enough, those things became a comfort. Gale had a way about him that Prim had always loved, and even before they had come to the Capitol together, she felt safe with him. That was enough for her mind to finally relax.
The next time she opened her eyes, Gale was nudging her awake and the urgency in his voice instantly made her more alert. “What's wrong?” she asked, thinking that someone had found them, but she didn't ask anymore questions and simply gathered up their things, the extra backpack now hanging off her shoulders as she followed Gale out the door and around the building. A thick stench hung in the air, something akin to rotting meat and the earthy smell of dirt—it was vile and Prim swallowed hard as they moved along, away from the only safety they had found that day.
A hideous scream caused Prim to look over her shoulder, and that was when she laid eyes on the giant, centipede-like creature. It had one of the careers between its sharp pincers, gnawing through bone and cartilage like it was nothing. Three other tributes ran fast to their friend, so focused on what was in front of them that they hadn't even noticed the two sneaking off. Prim ran along with Gale, her grip on his hand tight as they put some distance between themselves and the horrors of the rundown city.
The arena looked different at night and it was hard to see much of anything with only the artificial stars and moon overhead serving as a guide. “Where do we go?” she asked after they had stopped to catch their breath. They were back in marshes again, puddles and ponds surrounding them for as far as they eye could see. Next to hear, the sound of splashing caught her attention and Prim looked down to see a neon-colored frog on her boot. It looked harmless enough, perhaps a little larger than the ones she'd seen back home. She gave her foot a wiggle, hoping to shake the thing off. Instead, its long tongue shot out with incredible force, attaching itself to her knee and burning a hole through the flexible fabric that he helped to keep her dry all day.
She yelped as she fell back into the pond, the water up around her thighs and the water did nothing to neutralize the acid currently eating into her skin. Letting out a hiss through gritted teeth, Prim wrapped her fingers around the frog and gave its body a yank, finally pulling it free. “I hate this place,” she complained, her feet sinking into the mud as she tried to get back to her feet, failing to notice the dozens of eyes that had broken the water's surface.
