'Katniss.' I jump at the proximity of the sound. Look frantically for its source, bow loaded, seeking a target to hit. 'Katniss.' Peeta's lips are barely moving, but there's no doubt, the name came out of him. Just when I thought he seemed a little better, when I thought he might be inching his way back to me, here is proof of how deep Snow's poison went. 'Katniss.' Peeta's programmed to respond to the hissing chorus, to join in the hunt. He's beginning to stir. There's no choice. I position my arrow to penetrate his brain. He'll barely feel a thing. Suddenly, he's sitting up, eyes wide in alarm, short of breath. 'Katniss!' He whips his head toward me but doesn’t seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. 'Katniss! Get out of here!'
I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. ‘Why? What’s making that sound?’
'I don't know. Only that it has to kill you,' says Peeta. 'Run! Get out! Go!'