📘 CHAPTER 21 — THE QUIET BEFORE THE BLOOD
Hayley wakes before the artificial sunrise.
The arena’s dome cycles through colors—cool lavender turning to pale gold—as if the Capitol wants to pretend dawn is gentle. It isn’t. The air is sharp and cold, carrying the metallic sting of distant traps resetting themselves overnight. Somewhere across the forest, a cannon echoes, the sound low and mournful. One more tribute gone. She doesn’t know who.
Jordan is already awake, crouched near the fading embers of their fire. He moves quietly, never fully relaxing, always scanning the woods. Even though they’ve been side-by-side since the Bloodplains ambush, there’s a careful distance between them—something unspoken but strong, like a rope stretched between two posts.
“You slept,” he says softly when he hears her shift. “That’s good.”
“Not really.” Hayley rubs her eyes. “I kept hearing things.”
Jordan nods. “I heard them too. Someone was close, but… I don’t think they found us.”
They sit in silence for a moment, listening. The wind whispers through the leaves overhead, and a mechanical hum pulses beneath it—the dome’s machinery shifting. Nothing in this place is ever still.
Hayley pulls her knees to her chest. “We can’t stay here.”
Jordan pokes at a charred log. “I know. They’ll push us out eventually. They always do.”
She’s seen past Games. The Gamemakers hate stagnation. If tributes hide too long, they trigger something: floods, hounds, fire.
She glances toward the narrow creek where they’d bathed last night. It feels like a fragile haven, the closest thing to safety they’ve had since the arena swallowed them.
Jordan looks over at her, expression unreadable. “We should head toward the ridge. Higher ground.”
“Why?”
He smirks faintly. “Because I saw a flash of silver last night. Someone has a mirror. And mirrors usually mean alliances. Or traps.”
Hayley swallows. Every decision here feels like stepping toward a cliff. “Okay. Ridge it is.”
As they pack, his hand brushes hers briefly—barely a second, completely accidental, but enough to send a strange warmth spiraling through her. He pulls away quickly, jaw tightening, and they pretend nothing happened.
Survival first.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPO4KPmj3dl
Everything else later.
Maybe never.
📘 CHAPTER 22 — THE SPIRE RIDGE
The ridge rises like a jagged spine from the forest floor, its stone edges sharp and pale under the false morning sun. The climb is steep, forcing them to move slowly. Dirt loosens under their boots and slides down the slope.
Halfway up, Hayley pauses to breathe, hiding behind an outcropping. Jordan climbs ahead but keeps glancing back to check she’s still there. She hates that it reassures her.
When they reach the top, the world opens.
The arena sprawls below—forest, swamps, the shimmering metal sea, all of it contained under the enormous transparent dome. In the distance, the Capitol’s cameras glint like watchful eyes.
Jordan sits beside her on the ridge, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re running out of places to hide.”
Hayley nods. The arena seems smaller from this height. Fewer places to disappear. Fewer places to breathe.
A rustling sound snaps both their heads to the right.
They jump to their feet.
Two tributes emerge from the brush—twins from District 2, tall, lethal, their faces painted with streaks of gray ash. They don’t speak; they just advance with practiced precision.
Jordan steps in front of Hayley without thinking.
“Run,” he whispers.
She doesn’t.
The first twin lunges, blade flashing. Jordan ducks and rolls, slamming his shoulder into the boy’s chest. Hayley darts to the side, drawing her spear.
The second twin goes for her. She blocks the first strike, but the force rattles her bones. They’re trained, fast, almost silent. She backs away, heart hammering, spinning her spear in shaking hands.
Jordan is struggling with his opponent, each fight circling closer to the edge of the ridge.
“Jordan!” she shouts.
The twin charging her overcommits—an aggressive forward thrust—and Hayley uses it. She pivots, sweeps the spear low, and knocks his legs out from under him. He hits the ground hard, air rushing from his lungs. She leaps on top of him before he can recover and shoves her weapon down.
A cannon fires a second later.
Hayley freezes, breath shattered. Her hands shake violently as she pulls the spear free.
Jordan is still fighting his twin—the stronger of the two. They’re near the ridge’s edge now, rocks crumbling under their feet. Jordan’s nose is bleeding. The twin’s lip is split wide open.
Hayley runs toward them.
Jordan sees her coming—just long enough to distract him. The twin seizes the moment and shoves him backward.
Jordan’s foot slips.
Hayley screams his name.
She throws herself forward, catching his wrist just before he falls off the ridge. The twin grabs Jordan’s other arm, trying to drag him down the cliff.
But Jordan twists sharply, yanking the twin off balance, and Hayley drives her spear straight into the attacker’s side.
Another cannon fires.
Jordan collapses beside her, chest heaving.
She’s still gripping his wrist when it’s all over.
He doesn’t pull away for a long time.
📘 CHAPTER 23 — AFTERMATH
They move slowly after the fight, both of them blood-streaked and shaking.
Jordan keeps touching his ribs, wincing. Hayley checks the wound on her arm—a shallow slash but deep enough to sting. The air smells like iron and sweat and the bitter, artificial scent of the dome.
When they reach a cluster of pine trees, she stops.
“Sit,” she orders.
“I’m fine,” Jordan mutters.
“You almost fell off a cliff.”
He sighs and sits.
Hayley kneels in front of him, pulling out their tiny medical kit. She cleans the cut on his cheek first, dabbing unusually gently. He watches her with an expression she can’t decipher.
“You saved me,” he says quietly.
“You saved me first.”
A beat.
Then another.
His gaze lingers on her a second too long before he looks away, clearing his throat. “We should move soon.”
She nods, but continues cleaning the dried blood on his skin. Her hands shake only a little now.
“Hayley,” he says suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“You hesitated.”
“What?”
“When you killed him.”
She stares at the ground. “I didn’t want to. But if I didn’t—”
“We both would’ve died.” Jordan’s voice softens. “You did what you had to.”
Hayley isn’t sure that makes it easier.
Maybe nothing will.
📘 CHAPTER 24 — MESSAGES FROM THE SKY
That night, clouds gather unnaturally fast—clearly summoned by the Gamemakers. Lightning crackles across the dome, and a cold rain begins to fall.
Hayley and Jordan take shelter inside a half-collapsed stone structure hidden in a field of tall grass. It smells like damp moss and old earth. Water drips rhythmically from the broken ceiling.
As the rain intensifies, something buzzes overhead.
A hover-drone.
Hayley’s head snaps up.
A silver parachute drifts down, lantern-lit, fluttering into Jordan’s hands.
He stares at it, speechless.
Hayley feels her chest tighten. Gifts mean sponsors. Sponsors mean the Capitol is watching — choosing.
He unwraps the cloth.
Inside is a small tin of burn salve, a roll of bandages…
And a single folded note.
Jordan freezes.
Hayley’s breath catches.
“What does it say?” she asks.
Jordan hesitates, then hands it to her.
Hayley unfolds it slowly.
“Stay Alive. We Believe In You. —District 7”
Her vision blurs.
It’s not from the Capitol. It’s from home. From her mother. Her brother. People who refuse to give up hope.
Jordan shifts beside her. “This is good. They’re watching. They care.”
She wipes her face and laughs weakly. “Of course they care. I just… I didn’t expect… this.”
Jordan reaches out—hesitates—then places a hand on her shoulder.
Not a romantic touch.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡakvzXuiCyv
A human one.
A grounding one.
“We’ll make it,” he says. “Both of us.”
For the first time since entering the arena, Hayley almost believes it.
Almost.
📘 CHAPTER 25 — THE HUNGER STORM
The next morning, the Gamemakers unleash the Hunger Storm.
It begins as a tremor, the ground vibrating under their feet. Then the wind rises—hot, dry, and carrying a scent like burning metal. Birds shriek and flee the treetops.
Jordan grabs Hayley’s wrist. “We need cover. Now.”
But there is no cover.
The sky darkens unnaturally fast. Thunder shakes the dome. Then a sound erupts—deep, mechanical, and terrifying.
A massive, swirling vortex forms above the arena, its center glowing red. It drags debris upward—branches, stones, entire bushes.
“Run!” Hayley yells.
They sprint downhill, dodging falling branches. The wind pulls at their clothes, threatening to lift them off their feet.
The storm isn’t natural; nothing here ever is.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0DEjz6ywbs
It’s designed to flush tributes out, push them together, force conflict.
“We can’t outrun it!” Jordan shouts.
“We don’t have to outrun it — we need to get under something!”
They spot a large fallen log wedged between two boulders. Jordan dives underneath and pulls Hayley with him as the storm reaches full force.
The air howls like a living creature. Dirt pelts their skin. Hayley presses herself flat against the earth, gripping Jordan’s jacket, terrified the wind will tear them apart.
“Stay down!” he shouts.
She can’t hear him over the roar, but she feels his arm wrap around her shoulders, anchoring her.
The storm intensifies. For a moment, she’s sure the dome will crack open.
And then—
Silence.
The storm vanishes as quickly as it came.
Hayley breathes hard, heart slamming. Jordan looks just as shaken.
“What was that?” she whispers.
“A warning,” he says. “They want a fight.”
And Hayley knows he’s right.
📘 CHAPTER 26 — THE TRIBUTE HUNT
The Hunger Storm drives all remaining tributes toward the center of the arena.
Hayley and Jordan creep through the battered forest, stepping over uprooted trees and scorched earth. Every sound feels magnified. Every shadow looks like an enemy.
They crouch behind a cracked boulder when voices echo in the distance.
Three tributes.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHecWrxt3xS
Armed.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTaAHemKtLr
Laughing.
Seekers — Capitol favorites who treat the Games like a sport, hunting others for entertainment.
Jordan grips Hayley’s wrist so she won’t stand. His expression darkens. “We’re not strong enough to take them head-on.”
“So what do we do?”
He scans the broken landscape, calculating. “We split them up.”
“How?”
“We use the storm damage.”
He gestures to a massive, half-burned tree leaning dangerously over the path the Seekers are walking.
Hayley understands instantly.
When the Seekers draw close, she throws a stone in the opposite direction. Leaves rustle. A branch snaps. Two Seekers run toward the noise, blades drawn.
The last one stays behind, confused.
Jordan acts fast.
He pushes the weakened trunk with all his strength. The tree groans, cracks, and collapses — trapping the Seeker’s leg underneath.
The trapped boy screams.
Jordan flinches, but Hayley pulls him backward. “Go. Now.”
They flee before the other two return.
It’s not a kill…27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ59njYfKxhr
but it’s enough to change the odds.
📘 CHAPTER 27 — FIRELIGHT CONFESSIONS
That night they take shelter inside a hollow tree, the air warm and thick. Jordan lights the smallest fire he can manage — just enough to heat water from the storm’s leftover puddles.
Hayley stares at the flames, exhausted. Blood stains her sleeves. Dirt smudges her face. She feels older than sixteen.
Jordan sits beside her, knees bent, arms resting casually across them. But there’s nothing casual about him tonight. He’s quieter. More still.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No,” she admits. “Are you?”
He shakes his head. “Not really.”
She exhales shakily. “I keep thinking about the ridge. If you’d fallen—”
“Hey.” His voice is low. Firm. “I didn’t. Because of you.”
Hayley swallows hard. “I didn’t think I’d… care so much.”
Jordan freezes.
For a long moment, neither speaks. The fire crackles softly between them.
Hayley looks away, embarrassed. “Forget I said anything.”
“I won’t,” Jordan murmurs.
She meets his eyes. He holds her gaze longer than he ever has. The moment hangs there—heavy, breathless—not quite romantic, but dangerously close.
Then he says quietly:
“We look out for each other. That’s all it means.”
Hayley nods, but the warmth in her chest says otherwise.
📘 CHAPTER 28 — BLOOD AND ECHOES
Morning brings a message.
A shrill whistle pierces the air — the Capitol’s signal for a mandatory event.
Hayley stiffens. Jordan tenses beside her.
“The Feast,” he says.
She’s seen Feasts on television. They’re brutal traps disguised as supply drops. The Gamemakers gather all remaining tributes at a single location, surrounding valuable resources with danger.
“Do we go?” Hayley asks.
Jordan hesitates… then nods. “We have to. We’re low on food. And weapons.”
They make their way to the Cornucopia fields — now scarred from the storm. The massive golden horn gleams under the bright artificial sun.
Supplies sit in the center: backpacks, weapons, canisters of clean water.
Five tributes remain.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQgnYQ0uGEJ
Two from District 9.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrKlCwTz3Ma
One Seeker.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡytbYu5mMvP
And them.
The air is thick with tension.
The moment the bell rings, the arena explodes into chaos.
A District 9 girl sprints forward but gets tackled instantly. Jordan throws a knife to distract the Seeker chasing Hayley. Hayley dives for a backpack, rolls, and barely dodges a blade swinging toward her head.
Screams echo.
Blood splashes across the Cornucopia’s metal.
Jordan shouts her name.
She whirls to find the Seeker charging him with a spear raised high.
Hayley reacts faster than thought.
She slams into the Seeker from behind, knocking him off balance. Jordan grabs the fallen spear and drives it forward just as the boy turns.
A cannon fires.
The echo is deafening.
Jordan stands there, chest heaving, jaw clenched, staring at the body.
Hayley reaches him slowly, heart pounding.
His hands shake.
Without thinking, she touches his cheek.
He exhales — shaky, broken — and doesn’t pull away.
The arena falls silent.
Only three tributes remain now.
And the end is coming.
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.