Silence [The Hunger Games]

Chapter Thirty-Eight

What the hell are you doing here? My mind was whirling. Of course, I already knew the answer to the question. He was looking for me.

 Luckily, he had the sense to hide himself again, waiting for me to reveal myself. I let my gaze drift slowly back to Roger and Avery, though my mind was elsewhere. Roger was frowning in fury as he tossed a loaf of bread over in his hands. He grew more agitated as he tried to figure out what was safe to eat. Meanwhile, I was running out of time. I knew that if I killed Avery, a fight with Roger was inevitable. And if I fought Roger, I knew Logan would come to my rescue, despite his previous promises never to kill anyone. And I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, if he tried to save me, he’d get himself killed. So of course, my original plan was out of the question. But on the other hand, I didn’t want the opportunity to slip away.

 Sighing in resignation, I watched as Roger and Avery filled their bags with food. They clearly didn’t plan to stick around for a fight. I suspected they were both hungry and weary from their travels to the Cornocopia. They left the same way they had come, though in a less impressive and fearsome manner. I smirked to myself. They were cowards.

 I waited ten minutes to see whether they would return. When they didn’t, I stood up slowly and emerged from my hiding place. The bounty was still up for grabs. As I made my way quickly to the table, I was sure Logan must have seen me. But he didn’t show his face.

 I reached the table with no problems. I took hold of a piece of bread, just as Roger had. I broke the loaf in half. Sniffed it. Rattled it about. Bravely ran my tongue along the inside. Nothing seemed unfamiliar. With a smile, I took a bite, before putting the rest in my rucksack. There was still no sign of Logan.

 I repeated my measures a few more times until I came across something strange. A light pastry that I picked up had an odd smell. I was sure it was poisoned. I put it back and turned my back on the table, feeling suspicious.

 I looked for the tunnel where Logan had been. I longed for a glimpse of his face. To call his name, for him to say mine. I yearned for the touch of his skin, the softness of his hands as they wrapped around my own, enveloping them in a loving grasp. Where was he? Where was my best friend when I wanted him most?

 The ear-splitting cry answered my question.

 I was running. Trying so hard to move quickly that my legs went slower. Logan’s cries continued. The minute that it took me to reach him was the worst of my life. I reached him just in time to see him get stabbed in the back.

 Silence fell. The assailant looked up at me, wide eyed. His gaze drifted to the knife in my hand, his ears pricked at the sound of my shallow breathing. Logan watched me with tears in his eyes. Death would claim him, but District 6 was going down with him. I was going to make sure of that.

 I leapt on him before he could move, savagely ripping his murder weapon from his hands. He wasn’t small, but I was stronger, my knees pinned between his head to keep him in place. He attempted to kick me, but I wouldn’t allow it.

 “You killed my best friend,” I spat in his face “You killed him! All this time, I was worrying about Roger. But you killed him! You killed him!”