Get away (Gemma)

[Jack Lexington]

Something is tugging on my pants. Why is are my feet dragging without me moving? I ask myself. Slowly my vision returns and I can hear the odd sound here and there: Breathing, a distant howl, twigs breaking. A minute or later I come to and realize that nobody is tugging on my pants but the mud and twigs that I'm getting dragged over.
A loud groan escapes my lips instead of the words I actually wanted to say.
To my left is the fence, which I can only make out by it's electric humming.

Only when Nee lets go of my shirt I notice she's been dragging me. How long I don't know but it must have been quite a while because when I turn around I can see that the fence is changing to a concrete structure here. Tall but not as dangerous. It's hard to make out because it's such a dark night, which might actually work to our advantage.

"I'm sorry, I passed out. Thank you." I mutter weakly.
The girl has an incredibly strong will and her mind is set on saving us both. A great risk but also greatly appreciated.
Sitting up I take a moment to think about how she usually gets across. This must be the part of the fence she's been telling me about. "How do you cross over?"

Again my vision fades and when it returns I see the trunk of a tree leaning up against the wall. The branches on either side are broken off so it can serve as a ladder. I guess when it's laying around among other trees it's unsuspicious enough but now it becomes a much needed climbing help for us. Am I going to be able to utilize it with my broken and cut up legs? Maybe if Nee pulls me over.
"I'm going to need your help." I state the obvious looking into her tired face before I lean up against the concrete structure with my back. It's magnificently towering above our heads .

It's written all over the girls face how exhausted and close to breaking down she is herself but there's a determination, a glow in her eyes that tells me we're almost there and she won't give up. Not now.

Mobilizing whatever strength is still left in me I reach for the lower branches and try to stand up. At least three times I fail before I finally stand, face contorted in pain, and force my right leg up on the first branch. My hands and arms have to support my whole weight. For once I'm grateful that I'm used to manual labor. I can feel a gentle push from underneath me as my friend supports me.
Scrambling, pulling, slipping and pulling again I somehow manage to slowly climb up. I swear this is the most brutal, agonizing thing I've ever had to do in my life.
If we come out of this alive we'll be unbreakable.

[gemmawolf]

He stirs under my grasp, murmuring, "I'm sorry, I passed out. Thank you." I manage a grunt in acknowledgement; it’s all I can manage as I continue to drag him along the uneven ground. He woke up just in time, too, as we’ve reached my entrance point. If he was under any longer I would have had to wait, which could lead to our discovery. I drop him, roughly but without malice, and rub and stretch my back; as usual, it is aching from hard work. I’ll be folded in two by the time I’m an old woman. "How do you cross over?"

I point out the carefully balanced log that rests against the concrete monster. I’m not fond of the thing; it’s rotting and rocks under my weight, who knows if it will be able to bear two of us? The wall is a metre thick, though, providing us with a safe, sturdy perch halfway over. "I'm going to need your help." I sigh internally, frustrated. Why not just kill him? a dark corner of me whispers. It will be easier. Why not just go on alone?

Because I’m not like that, I answer, and help him up onto the natural bridge. Once he’s secure I begin to climb, too, used to the footholds of my old enemy. My blisters and splinters burn on my fingertips and on my palms, but I grit my teeth and get stuck into it, knowing for a fact that Jack has it worse off than me. It’s not long before we are seated on the wall above, panting from the exhaustion and ready to drop down dead.

Well, perhaps not drop, I consider, looking down. It’s not very far at all, in terms of trees, but a good ten feet up in the air is not an ideal height. Luckily, I am prepared, and begin shuffling along the top of the concrete, my legs dangling over the inner side of the fence. After a couple of minutes I reach a stack of aging logs; they’re slippery from the rain we had, and could roll away at any given moment, but, like the stray log, they serve as my usual ticket in and out of the confines of District 7. I grip the corner of the wall with one hand; sliding my body off the top I twist, flinging my other hand back onto the wall so that I am facing the rough, brutal surface. I stretch my legs downwards, feeling out for the wood. Nothing. I take a peek down; they’re only a few centimetres below my reach. I wince, fearing a loud crash or a painful landing, then let go. My feet slam into the wood; I nearly lose my balance, but somehow I stay upright. Slowly, slowly, I make my way back onto the hard packed earth, then look back up at Jack, waiting for him to try. “I can help you, Jack,” I say, whispering loudly, “It’ll hurt if you land on your legs like I did.”

[Jack Lexington]

On top of the wall seems like a perfect place to rest but it's an illusion. We'd be spotted by peacekeepers up here way too easily. Although ever part of my body screams at me to just lay down I'm not about to give up now that we've reached district 7. The promised land. And I couldn't care less about the pain that will come when I drop down. I just want to get it over with. I'm past careful and past caring and have no idea how Nee can still move so quietly. For her sake I will try though. So I sit on the ledge and turn around onto my belly, then slide over the rough edge of the wall until me fingers find the corner and hold on as long as possible, which is just a short moment because I have no power left. Scratching over the sandpaper like surface they slip and I drop.
A scream escapes my lips because dropping on two injured legs is probably the most painful thing I can imagine and the pain lingers on even though I muffle my own scream.
When it subsides after what seems an internity I roll over and tell her. "Go before they come." and try to follow her.

I'm not asking for her help anymore, I'm simply holding on to her hand and use her shoulder as support. This phase of our journey is the most delicate one. So far she could have just dropped me in the forest and forgotten I ever existed but if we get caught now she will be punished severly. That is if anybody finds out I'm not from here.

To my ears her accent is not that different from mine and I could probably mimick it. Her skin's the same color and she doesn't dress much differently but as we leave the saw mill I can see that the houses of district 7 are much more solid built and bigger than ours.
They must be wealthier.
Dragging in the shadows we slowly make out way towards a block of houses with three stories. Nobody is out on the streets right now except for the odd cat and only a few windows are lit.
"Where are we going?" I whisper in a horse voice.

[gemmawolf]

He manages to make it down off the wall, but at the cost of an agonising scream, and tells me to go if we are being hunted. I grab his hand and lead him along; I won’t leave him now, not after he’s done so well. I lead him through the maze of stocked wood, heaps of sawdust and old, battered warehouses until we come across an ancient gate. It is waist high, and usually I would just take a run-up to it and leap over, but this time I simply go to open it. The latch is rusty, slippery, but I manage to coax it out of place, squeaking unpleasantly. It swings open, only just holding together, and I usher him through.

We come out at the richer area of my district, further south than my home. My house is nothing compared to these giants; we have only one floor, the cheapest available – even my boyfriend, from a family of five, has two floors – but I suppose that if it means that we can feed ourselves, then cramped conditions are a small price to pay. I think fondly of home, itching to be back by the fire with my parents and sister. I daydream about baking, dancing; even chores like chopping firewood come to mind. "Where are we going?"

I whisper over my shoulder, “There’s an old stable around here. No one uses it, so you shouldn’t be found. Still, you’d better lie low while you’re here. Once you’re settled, I’ll head home for some money to pay for the medic.” I pray and pray that it is still abandoned, still exists. The roof might have collapsed, or rats might be everywhere, or someone else might have turned it into a home. But there’s no going back; I carry on slipping through the shadows, the District 10 stranger following closely. We round a corner, and I see it, up ahead. It appears as lonely as always, the doors swinging on the light breeze, the neighbours rejecting its presence.

“What do you think?” I ask Jack, drawing closer to the structure. “Could you call it home for a few weeks?”

[Jack Lexington]

In front of me stands an old run down structure that you could hardly call a home. I had expected to get to a doctor right away, not wait any more. The chance of being discovered is greater the longer I wait. Also I'm not going to last much longer. By now not only my legs hurt but I'm feverish and aside from muscles throughout my body my kidneys seem to be on fire. The infection is taking its toll.
"Why can't I go to a doctor now?" I pant. "Trust me, this is the first time I'm asking for one. I'm just hanging on my a thread, Nee!" If it's even still a thread and not just a hair.

Then again the thought of resting on some hay seems better than walking any further. Now that we are here fatigue washes over me like a giant wave.
Looking in her face I see the deep exhaustion and desperation as well. "You want to see you family. Go."
With that I step forward and have to use the swinging old door as support.
Once again I turn to her. "Just don't forget me. Thank you so much for risking your life for me. I'll never forget that." I have to tell her just in case she can't make it back to me. The door swings in the wind and I stumble inside and collapse somewhere in the dark.
Sighing I close my eyes and for a moment I feel something that could be relief.
I pass out only seconds later hoping she'll come back before it's too late.

[gemmawolf]

"Why can't I go to a doctor now? Trust me, this is the first time I'm asking for one. I'm just hanging on my a thread, Nee!" I know, I know, I think. But the only reason I've dragged him here first is that I can move faster without him. "You want to see you family. Go." I'm reluctant to leave him, in case he thinks I won't come back. Does he really think I would just abandon him? His hope in me might be the only thing keeping him going now.

I watch, helpless, as he stumbles into the darkness, and I catch his farewell. "Just don't forget me. Thank you so much for risking your life for me. I'll never forget that." I won't Jack, I promise, leaning my axe against the wall of the structure - it will only slow me down. I turn without checking where his body is and push my body into a run.

I make it back home in under five minutes, but I'm crippled from exhaustion and excruciating pain. I collapse as quietly as I can at the back door, clutching my sides as they throb. It even hurts to breath. I allow myself only a few seconds before slipping in through into the dining room. The fire is still glowing but there are no flames, and I can hear the faint sighs of my family as they sleep in the next rooms. I tip-toe to the kitchen, remove a large amount of coins and slide back outside, careful to lock the door again for their sake. I groan and force my legs back into a sprint. He's running out of time!

After a few wrong turns and ducking out of sight from patrols of Peacekeepers, I manage to get to the old doctor's house. I knock urgently but gently on the front door, coins still in my hand. A moment later a shrunken, cantankerous elderly man appears, demanding to know why I've woken him at this late hour. "There's someone dying... in the old stables..." I manage to pant out. "You don't know him, he's not from here... I've got lots of money to pay you if you'll save him and keep quiet." He holds out his hand to inspect the coins, and I tip so many in that he has to bring his other one up to hold the pile of gold. A crooked grin appears, and he follows me at a smart walk back towards the hiding place.

It takes us a good quarter-of-an-hour to get back to Jack, and I'm wondering if his heart is even still beating. I plonk myself down into some hay, utterly spent, while the ancient medic does his work.

[Jack Lexington]

I come to to cold liquid burning like fire in my wound and try to get away from the pain. I notice that my dirty, blood soaked pants were cut off by somebody and I'm bedded on a clean, white sheet. Overhead is a lamp that brings some warm light to the stables and as I raise my eyes I can see the outline of a man who is hunched over me.
Rolling my head to the side I search for Nee hoping with all my heart she is here as well. And there she is laying in the stray not too far away watching me. My hand reaches out for her without me even intending to move but drops down before it's fully extended as I'm too weak now.

Another different stinging pain makes me turn my head. It comes from a needle that the man pushed into my leg. "What is that?" I manage to groan, which makes the man acknowledge me for the first time.
"Ah, you're awake. It's medicine to fight the infection."

I can tell by his expression, which is now visible because my eyes have adjusted to the light, that he isn't very happy that I'm awake. Neither am I. Sleeping through whatever is to come would be a much better option.

"Take a deep breath and hold still , I have to take a look what I'm dealing with."
Bracing myself for whatever he will be doing I take in a deep breath and endure a pain that shoots right through me and makes me sick at once. If I had eaten I'd be throwing up for sure. The worst thing is that it doesn't stop. It feels as if he's twisting and turning a knife somewhere deep in my leg.
I'm still holding that breath and I don't scream and I don't look at my friend, not now.

Finally he gives me a break and the pain slowly subsides only for my worst nightmares to come true. "I'm afraid too much tissue is damaged and infected. I don't think I can safe your leg, son."
Time stops. This can't be true.

Instead of holding my breath it becomes rapid, irregular as panic gets a tight hold of me.
My words come out as panting. I want to object but can only gasp. Out of the corner of my eye I see him reach for something in his bag and my mind races away to the day when I was a kid and a horse trampled my toe to mush so the doctor amputated it. It was only a toe back then. This is my whole leg. I need it. I want it. I'm only half a guy without two legs.

Finally I squeeze out. "No!" and take a deep breath. "Don't take my leg. No way."
Once again I look at Nee and hope for her support that she's given me all the way so far. Her beautiful eyes are filled with sorrow and pain. 'Fight for me.' I plea with my look.'Please!'

[gemmawolf]

I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep while the old man does his work, but now I hear him say, "Ah, you're awake. It's medicine to fight the infection." I smile softly; although I didn’t catch what Jack said he must still be capable of speech. But I can tell that the process before me is difficult to bear. I’m not the one with the damaged leg, yet I feel sick to my stomach and have to turn away. After a while, things go quiet and I turn to hear the diagnosis.

"I'm afraid too much tissue is damaged and infected. I don't think I can safe your leg, son." Oh dear, is all I manage to formulate in my mind at first. Then more words come. That’s the completely wrong thing to tell him. He needs his leg. He can’t get home if he’s crippled; and even if he did, how would he earn a living? It occurs to me that Jack relies on his health for survival in more ways than one. He’s a delicately balanced person, and if the slightest thing upsets that balance he is done for.

"No! Don't take my leg. No way." He looks my way, begging with his eyes. I can’t refuse that desperation. I put myself in his place. What use would I be in the lumberyard if I was missing an arm or a leg? My life would be over. No money, no food, no hope. At least I would have a family to fall back on, though I can’t speak for Jack. And if I was stuck in District 10, could I ever get home? No. I would need that limb.

I shake my head. “He needs it. He’s-“ I stop. I don’t want to give too much away about my friend. ‘Wrangler’ would give everything up about him, so instead I say, “-He’s in manual labour. And he’s got to get home.” The old man sighs and rubs the back of his neck; I can tell he’s in a tough spot.

“Well, I suppose that even if I removed it then it could kill you from the strain on your heart and the blood loss. I can try you with special herbs and a few doses of morphling – this young lady paid me enough for it! If that still doesn’t work, well, you’re looking at losing it as a final resort. Which is likely.” I nod, then turn to Jack. Is it a good enough shot? He must know that losing his leg is better than dying.

[Jack Lexington]

Endlessly thankful for Nee raising her voice to help me I close my eyes. The girl even managed to keep my identity secret and pay the doctor as I learn. I'm so grateful she's here. Without her I might have given up already. The possibility of the doctor amputating my leg is more terrifying than anything I could imagine...even going to the games.
Weakly I take a breath to speak. "I'd do anything to keep my leg."

With a frown the man sighs. "It's your life, your call.Just be aware of the risk you're taking." Slowly he gets up from the floor and stretches his sore, old back and knees before he announces. "I'll go and get my vehicle. This isn't a place for treatment." To Nee, who is visibly worried he raises a finger. "Nobody will stop my vehicle. Don't worry. They know I'm in a hurry when I use it." His voice cracks like an old door when he speaks but it means help and hope.

Through the open wooden door wind blows in and whirls up some hay when he leaves.
My hand falls open and my fingertips lightly touch Nees. Without looking I mouth. "Thank you. I'll never forget that." and hope she understands.
Nee...is she okay? She's been battered and bruised. With great efforts I roll my head to the side and open my eyes. "How are you?"
The chill of the wind makes me shiver and my eyes drift close without any resistance.

At an unknown point of time during that night I wake up again because somebody is dropping my half naked body onto a cold steel table. I'm shaking so badly now that I think I might just die of cold now but at least I manage to open my eyes and get blinded by awefuly bright lights overhead.
Before I know what's going on I can hear a voice. "Put one cup of boiling water in the herbal mixture and stirr it well. Then drain it after 5 minutes and wrap it in a clean cloth. I need it ready when I've cut away all the dead tissue."

That truly sounds aweful. Do I even stand a chance? Is now the time to object? No, I only bite my lip and brace myself for what's to come.
The worst physical torture any human being can imagine starts a few seconds later. I swear he's cutting into my leg with a glowing iron. If I survive this I can get through anything. This time the pain, that makes me toss and turn against some sort of restraints, doesn't stop after a minute. On the contrary. The agony intensifies if that's even possible. I can barely hold back my screams and can't help the stray tear that rolls down my cheek before I pass out. Thank goodness.

Darkness, endless darkness gobbles me up for a long, long time. Just plain unconsciousness.

The room is flooded with bright, warm sunshine and the smell of freshly baked bread fills my nose when I come to again.
What happened? Did I just have a bad dream? Thank goodness. That was one hell of a nightmare. One of my eyes dares to take a look. Where on earth am I?

[gemmawolf]

"I'd do anything to keep my leg,” Jack croaks, and the medic warns him of the risks, adding that he needs to be moved to somewhere more suitable. He leaves to get the car, something I didn’t expect, and my friend gives me an exhausted thank you. I squeeze his hand reassuringly, a dull throb making its way up my arm; it’s the hand I hurt in the stream. “How are you?” he asks, but I don’t have time to answer as he falls unconscious. I wonder if he’s died on me, but the signs of life remain; breathing, a light pulse in his veins. I sit with him until the man returns, ready to take him away to a small surgery room.
I help to lift him into the back of the vehicle, taking his upper half rather than risking further injury with his legs. Will the break heal properly after putting weight on it? But that’s a lesser concern at the present. I know that the priority is fixing up the other leg that’s infected and poisoned. As proud as I am of my strength and endurance, I can’t possibly stand by and watch whatever gruesome task is about to unfold. Instead, I am dropped off far from my home. I promise to visit the next day, but for now I have to take care of myself.

I’m dizzy and sick, but at least I don’t have to support someone else. I can be selfish again, looking out only for my own needs. Time to do a bit of acting. I hear a pair of footsteps – Peacekeepers. I try and look zoned out, staring at the middle distance and staggering about, going towards the sound. It happens quicker than I thought; they find me. At first they are rough, one even points his weapon at me; yet I pull off my act and they realise that I am the girl that went missing almost a week ago. “Must have been kidnapped, looks like she’s been in a scrape with someone,” says one.

The second waves his hand in front of my face. It is so hard not to follow it. “Completely out of it. Must have some concussion. Disorientated. Let’s get her home.” They start leading me, but I’m too slow, so the stronger of them – I can’t place which – scoops me up and carries me for half an hour until we get to my home. I only realise at the door that I’ve left my axe at the stables. You can pick it up tomorrow on the way to the doctor’s, I remind myself.

It’s a number of minutes before my parents arrive at the door. My mother crumples to the ground, fearing the worst, but the man who carries me sets me down and steadies me so that I don’t fall. I allow my father to wrap his arms tightly around me, even though I can’t breathe. I lose track of the conversation, but eventually I am led inside and the Peacekeepers leave. I don’t act normally until I am in front of the fire, my wounds being tended to by my mother.

“I’m fine, you know.” She nearly has a heart attack, and I have to console her. All the while all I can think is, what have I done? I can’t shake the guilt of putting my parents in such a situation; I only meant to leave for a day, and they surely feared me dead. No sign of me anywhere. My father stands over us, saying nothing. I suspect that he knows the truth; that I was not kidnapped, but had in fact gone over the fence. We don’t wake Maple.

It takes a few hours for my mother to be happy with my cleaned cuts and bandaged bruises. My chest, the back of my head and various wounds are heavily padded; the slices across my chest are bleeding again, and the bandages are already bright red. My hand is put in a glove and then a wrist support, and then they begin to feed me. I don’t stop until I’ve devoured two full loaves of bread, several cups of broth and a hunk of beef. I smile, thinking of what Jack told me, how beef is from a cow. I’ve said nothing about him, or the fight, or even confirmed that I left the district. I can tell them tomorrow – no doubt I’ll miss school until I’m fit – and I’ll also apologise for losing three bags, hundreds of items and scaring them nearly to death. But first I need a good night’s sleep.

I can’t sleep though, even after all that exhaustion. I’m wide awake; I can only conclude that I’m still trying to absorb the idea that I’m home at long last. No matter how tightly I curl myself under the thick covers I am freezing, shivering, back in the current of the river. It’s in the early hours of the morning that I get up and begin to bake bread. Not for myself, but for Jack. I want to sneak out as soon as possible and return before my parents get up. I’m out of the door before the sunrise and make my way inconspicuously to the old medic’s house where he is probably keeping my friend.

I’m let through in a hurry, and I wait patiently with the bread for him to wake up. I see him stirring and speak out. “How do you feel?” He’s alive at least, I think. If the infection was going to kill him he’d be gone by now. “I brought you some bread – made it myself. Can you eat?” I pass him a roll, keen to see how well he can move, and if pain is still involved in the process.

[Jack Lexington]

A face comes into focus not too far away from my own and makes me instantly aware that everything wasn't just a dream. It's Nee's pretty face but she wears a bandage like a crown around her head. In her hand is a breshly baked roll that makes my mouth water. For a moment I'm not sure what she means and try to sit up to grab the roll but am strangely immobile.
Memories of the night before hit me like lightning and my heart seems to stop for a second when I'm not sure whether I still have two legs. I don't know what the doctor ended up doing when I passed out. 'Please, no!' I want to scream. With shaking fingers I pull away the covers and my gaze falls on my cut up leg. It's heavily bandaged but still where it belongs and I can even wiggle my toes. All four of them. My other leg is in a cast now. Oh how much I hate those but it's still an improvement to walking through a forest on it. I pull the blanket back over me because I'm getting too cold and start shivering again. Probably still some fever...but better than before. I'm thankful, that I'm still alive. Thankful to the doctor and most of all to my incredibly brave friend.

My green eyes wander up to Nees face again. Her cheeks are a little rosy today but the exhausting journey is visible all over her from her posture, to the circles under her eyes and the missing sparkle in them. Obviously somebody tended to her as well. In a barely audible voice I croak. "You saved my life. Thank you!"
My hand reaches for her bandaged one and I pull her a little closer and down to me to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll always be thankful for that!"
Releasing my grip I reach for the bread and take a small bite. It almost melts in my mouth. Incredibly delicious. Just fresh bread.
"Is your family happy to have you back? They must be grateful to know your alive and how brave you were."
Watching her reaction I can tell there is some insecurity that my friend is trying to hide.

Nee stays around until the doctor comes in.
He gives both of us a stern look, then comes straight to the point.
"I don't know where you found him but I can tell he's not from around here. And so will the peace keepers if they find him here." To me he adds. "You can stay until tomorrow, then I'll bring you back to that barn or where ever you want to go."
Without waiting for an answer he checks my temperature, hands me some pills and water and hurries off.

"After all that we've accomplished I'm facing another problem. If the peace keepers find me here they'll detain me. I have to find a way back home."
But I can't think of any other way than walking back through the endless, dark and dangerous forests, which is simply impossible with two injured legs by myself.
"At least your safe."
Half a hour passes which I spend moping about never seeing my family again, never letting them know what happened or being able to kiss my girlfriend Tallulah goodbye.
"Tallulah," I whisper to Nee who is by now staring out the window. "Her father works for the major....maybe...no, that's ridiculous...maybe he has a way of bringing me back."

[gemmawolf]

(OOC: Coding this and the previous post when I get home)

He seems dazed, perhaps drugged, but awareness suddenly flashes in his eyes and he checks that he still has two legs; even I am wondering. He has, and instantly relaxes. It really does mean so much to him. I suppose I wouldn’t like to lose a limb, either. He speaks, but I strain to hear him: "You saved my life. Thank you!" He catches me off guard, pulling me close and kissing me on the cheek. Usually I would punch someone in the face or stomach for that – only Rowan can kiss me – but I know it is out of eternal gratitude rather than anything else. I simply blush. "I'll always be thankful for that!"

He starts on the bread I brought him and asks about my family. "Is your family happy to have you back? They must be grateful to know you’re alive and how brave you were." I hesitate. No, it’s not like that. As soon as I tell them the truth I’ll be in serious trouble; assuming a Peacekeeper hasn’t already spotted me out of the house. How can I tell him of how I deceived them? Of how my mother wept over what she thought was a corpse? I’m a selfish, stupid girl, not brave. Only stubborn.

“They’re glad to have me back,” I say, more to myself than Jack. I stay by his side until the old doctor walks in, announcing the obvious danger of Jack’s presence, and leaves.

"After all that we've accomplished I'm facing another problem. If the peace keepers find me here they'll detain me.” I wonder for a moment whether it would be best; he would be fed, sheltered and taken care of, even though it wouldn’t be a pleasant situation. But I shake the idea from my mind. No one wants that fate. “I have to find a way back home. At least you’re safe." Hardly, I think. So much could happen in the coming days and weeks. I could still be arrested. What if they find my things strewn throughout the forest? But I don’t think that Peacekeepers would leave the safety of the fence – they’re too cowardly.

We go quiet for a while. I wander to the window, gazing out at the busy little district that I call home. I hope that my parents haven’t woken up yet, that they aren’t searching for me frantically. Otherwise I will have a lot of explaining to do, and possibly some more acting, which I don’t think I’m up to. Stumbling up to two tired men in the dark of night isn’t exactly a challenge; pretending to be dazed in broad daylight would be useless as I’m terrible at lying. I’m pretty much ready to go home, unsure if I’ll ever return to Jack when he says, "Tallulah. Her father works for the major.... maybe... no, that's ridiculous... maybe he has a way of bringing me back." I wander over and start to think.

“We could call them, though I don’t think we could get hold of a telephone at this end. I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than set foot in that forest, Jack. I’m not going anywhere near the fence until I’ve fully recovered, I’m afraid – and that counts for you two. So that leaves writing a letter.” I have a root through some cupboards and find a pen, then I sneak out of the secluded room and pick up a piece of paper and dig around for an envelope. I return, successful, and show them to my friend. “I’ll write, and tell him about what happened. I’ll pay someone else; someone who’s on the next train to District 10 and can get this to the Mayor’s office.”

I cross over to the bed and wrap my arms around Jack tightly, but not hard enough to hurt him. “Stop thanking me. You could have just carried on walking. You should have carried on walking. But you saved me; you made the first charitable move. Because of you we can both go home to the people we care about. Thank you.” I place the rest of the bread on the bed covers and wave a silent goodbye, then leave.

***

It’s two days later. I’m fooling no one now with my little deluded routine, but it has done its job. I am at the train station in the rain. In one pocket of my coat is the letter; in the other is a generous helping of coins. I spoke to my father, confessing everything (playing down the life-threatening parts, of course) and he agreed to help me out of the situation. It was as simple as that. He didn’t make me swear to never return to the woods; he didn’t punish me. He didn’t even scold me. But I know that he expects me to do without luxuries until I’ve paid the family back with my wages at the lumber yard. I owe the three of them a pile of clothes, lots of food, three backpacks, multiple resources like candles and rope that aren’t cheap; beyond that I lose count. But I’ll do it. I always pull through.

A young man steps down off the train and I shake his hand, slipping the envelope into his palm. Then I give him the money as if it is a simple gift from a sibling or friend. To add to the effect I wave him off as the vehicle departs, then turn away and head home, admittedly with a slight limp from my ankle. I’ve got another four days before returning to school and I want to rest up as much as I can. People have visited me, and it’s been difficult to keep up my story without being caught out or not being believed. I guess I’ve been lucky.

Jack must be back at the stables by now. I haven’t visited him in case I’m seen, but we had our farewell. I’ve done all I can... for now at least. I can’t think how anyone from Ten is going to get him home, whether they work for the Mayor or not. But he must think it’s worthwhile, even if his only aim was to let his loved ones know he was alive. I’m nearing my house and already I’m exhausted; I went into a full-scale collapse when I returned from the medic’s house and I am still rebuilding my strength. I look towards the towering trees in the distance and shudder. I’m beginning to doubt my ambitions of being a deep-forest lumber worker.

But I smile and let myself in; I’m stubborn. I’ll regain my confidence and reckless decision making. On second thoughts, maybe I’m not stubborn, or reckless or cocky. I’m simply determined.

[Jack Lexington]

For two long days I'm burning up with fever that so high that I'm simply delusional. A weird mixture of old memories, Nee in the fight and Tallulah on Naim keeps me zoned out. As I learn later the doctor actually comes by every day to check if I'm still alive and forces water and pills down my throat but I couldn't care less.
On the third day I finally become aware of his presence.
"The girl never came back and I simply don't want to let you die." He explains, then hands me more water.
Sweatsoaked I try to sit up but fail miserably. I feel like I've been to hell and back. Again he suggests to take my leg off but I refuse.
Shaking his head the old, wrinkly face stares at me for a moment, then states. "You're not from here, are you?"
Before I know it I babble out that I'm from district 10.
"I figured you're from further away." Silence falls between us and makes me wonder if he's going to rat me out now. Instead he offers. "I'll keep helping you if you tell me everything about your district."
As if I have a choice. Agreeing he keeps coming back day after day and asks every possible detail I know about my home. Slowly I start feeling better and the fever goes away. Unfortunately my leg remains without any feeling in large parts and I can barely move it.

One day I shuffle my way to a gap in the wooden wall because I can see sunlight falling in. I want to see the sun again. From the hole I can see the street and people walking by. Observing them gets me out of my constant thoughts about my fate, leaving my family and Tallulah, who I've grown so fond of behind. Maybe I have to stay here for good. How would I blend in without knowing more about district 7s people.
The sun feels warm on my face and cheers me up.
It gives me so much energy that I even try to pull myself up. It's hard because I've become pretty weak but finally I struggle to an insecure stand on a leg without feeling and one in a splint.
I'm standing but I'll never be walking or riding a horse like this.
My thoughts darkening again I lower myself back down and wait for the doc to come that day.
In the evening when he can't be spotted so easily anymore he steps into the darkness of the barn with a flashlight in his hand.
"Evening, Jack." He greets me. "I brought you soup and bread."
He sits down next to me on a bail of hay and gives me the once over. Then he pulls out a pair of pants and a shirt from his bag. "I figured you could use some clean clothes."
My first question is. "Have you heard from Nee or from my district?"
The shake of his head deepens my frown.
"Sorry."
Then he asks me about something I've almost forgotten about. "Why did you come here, Jack?"
I look up at his dark grey eyes. The man has won my trust by now so I answer. "My dad has very bad stomach ulcers. They bleed and make him throw up. He can't keep any food down and is slowly starving. Nobody in our district can help him so I was searching for medicine elsewhere. Something to cure him."
With unmoved face he replies. "Hm. Interesting.I'll be back."
Before I can can object he is gone and returns about an hour later with a companion. It's an older woman with her grey hair up in a bun. She's tall, wears round glasses and has a very proud walk.
Over the rim of her glasses she inspects me, then extends her hand.
"August just told me about you. I wish he had told me earlier, who he's found. I'm Dr. Gabe."
'Not another doctor.'I sigh inwardly.
"I'll tell you straight out because my friend here told me you are trustworthy and desperate." Smiling a little she takes my hand.
"I'm currently testing a medication against ulcers, that looks very promising. I'm willing to give you a batch if you deliver a package to somebody in your district for us." She squeezes my hand."If you get caught you cannot show anybody the envelope. They will kill you."
All this information is too much for me to comprehend. If they want me to deliver an envelope that would mean I could come home somehow...but at the risk of my life. Then again I'd be dead by now if the man in front of me hadn't helped me so I guess I owe him.
"Who are you?"
"The less you know the better."
"Here's the bonus for you. If you agree you need to be able to walk better. August and I would get you into the hospital I work at with a fake ID and make sure your leg works again rather than just 'stays attached to you'." She cocked and eyebrow and held out her other hand. "Do we have a deal young man?"
My head is spinning. The last thing I want is anybody cutting around on me again now that I'm a little better but I'm aware that with my leg this way I would not or walk or ride every again- the essence of my life.
As if it had a will of its own my hand find hers and I mutter. "Okay."
What have I gotten myself in here now?