Outsiders

Chapter One

By ChaosHasCome

Madge slipped her low-grade shoes off her sore feet. Wincing, she hobbled her way over to the kitchen sink. Rummaging around the cupboard below, Madge managed to procure a dirty white basin which she proceeded to fill with lukewarm water. Hot water was a luxury in District 13, one which she was not important enough to warrant. Carefully limping toward her living room so as not to spill the water, Madge cursed her job. As a waitress for a seedy restaurant on Level 9, she worked a long shift for little pay. Though Madge would never eat the food produced in the pub's kitchen, others seemed to have no qualms about eating the greasy food. There seemed to be an endless string of shady customers, making it impossible for Madge to rest her aching feet.

The couch creaked tiredly as Madge sat down – the worn, brown fabric turning black as a few drops of water sloshed over the basin's sides – and Madge hurriedly set down the bucket and placed her feet inside. Madge almost moaned in relief. Relaxing back into the couch, Madge let her eyes wander over her small, worn apartment.

Compared to the luxuries of her District 12 mansion, this apartment was a hovel. Her carpet – originally white – was mottled yellow and the walls were the same. Her kitchen was miniature. It had enough counter space for a small stove, cutting board, and sink with little room left over. Madge could hardly turn around, let alone cook properly. All her furniture was tired and sagging with the weight of over-use. Simple pencil sketches littered the walls, drawn by Madge's own hand. A washroom, the size of a small closet, contained a cracked shower, chipped toilet, and leaky sink. Her bedroom, across from the bathroom, was naught but a tiny square of nearly empty space. It held only a metal cot shoved against a wall and a chest-of-drawers leaning precariously against the end of the cot.

It reeked of poverty but never-the-less, Madge was proud of her unassuming apartment. She had earned it all herself, with no help from anyone else. When she had first stumbled into District 13, she had been scared, alone, and completely broke. The charity of the district went only so far. Armed with a blanket, thin pillow, and a standard issue change of clothes – which had seen one too many washings – Madge had lived in the Level 12 compound for women and children refugees.

Madge had worked part-time while she attended school – a requirement for all children under the age of 18 – and when she graduated, she had quit her job and found another as a full-time waitress. She saved her wages and suffered through the greasy, albeit free, meals provided by the diner for three years. At 21 years old, Madge moved into her apartment and out of the refugee compound, feeling *.25more liberated than she ever had in her life. 0

Sighing, Madge removed her feet from the cold water, drying them off on the carpet. Quickly dumping the basin's contents into the sink, Madge rolled her shoulders and decided to reheat the leftovers from yesterday's simple meal. The hearty stew satisfied her hunger with enough left over for tomorrow.

Madge washed her dishes and hurried through her nightly routine as her eyelids drooped. Collapsing on her bed, Madge fell asleep to the thought that tomorrow would be exactly like every other day of her life.

.&.

Gale tapped his pencil against the roughly hewn desk as he filled out endless reports of supply lists, scouting patrols, and excavation progress. When Gale signed on for this job in District 2, he'd thought only of running as far from Katniss as possible. He'd had no idea how absolutely, mind-numbingly boring his new career would be.

Executive Overseer to District 2 Renovations looked good on paper and sounded impressive to everyone but Gale. To him, it meant paperwork. An endless amount of paperwork. Gale was not a man suited to a desk. He was meant to be roaming forests, not sitting idly, buried up to his nose in damn paperwork.

At first Gale was thankful for all the work. It distracted him from Katniss and the giant hole she had burned into his heart. Now though, at 23 years old, Gale was tired of hiding. He just didn't give a damn about Katniss and Peeta and their problems that were constantly being broadcast across the districts. He just wanted a life again. More specifically, Gale wanted a life he could be proud of. Hiding behind a desk in District 2, afraid to face reality, was not the way his father would have acted. His father would have faced his demons and it was time Gale learned to do the same.

Finishing a list of supplies ruined by a hidden land mine, Gale stood up and stretched, arms extended above his head. Rolling his shoulders, Gale left the office building, and stepped into eye shattering daylight. Anxious to get home, Gale almost didn't notice the small man chattering at him in a squeaky voice.

"Mr. Hawthorne! Mr. Hawthorne! Please wait just a moment!" Gale turned and stared at the short, balding man. He was thick around the middle and his face was clean shaven. His gray suit was shabby and worn. His features were small and pinched. He strongly reminded Gale of a rat.

Gale glared at the man. "What the hell do you want?" The man seemed to shrink in on himself. Gale rubbed a hand over his face as the man cowered at his callous tone. Gale felt bad but couldn't bring himself to care – he just wanted to get home to his couch and a bottle of whiskey. The man held out a hand with short fingers. They reminded Gale of small sausages. Gale shook the man's hand with some hesitancy.

"Mr. Hawthorne, I'm here on behalf of the District 7 Re-Population Committee. We have an offer that we hope you will consider." The man took a deep breath and stared straight into Gale's stormy eyes. "Mr. Hawthorne, I know you are not a man who enjoys being trapped behind a desk. That is why my job proposition would suit you much more than Executive Overseer to District 2 Renovations. We – the committee and I – are starting an experiment of sorts. We are hoping to start a small town in the wilderness of District 7 with the goal that it flourish and expand, encouraging others to move into District 7. People, as of now, are reluctant to live there because of, well, how wild the territory is currently. As a man of great wilderness experience, we hoped you might head this project. You would be in charge of setting up the settlement, protecting the citizens, gathering supplies, and all other aspects of the town. Most importantly, you would no longer have to sit behind a desk. You would be working in direct contact with the citizens and the surrounding forests." The man took another deep breath and looked quickly down and back up. "What say you, Mr. Hawthorne?"

Gale, for his part, was stunned. The offer had come completely out of the blue. It was almost too good to be true. It was not only an escape route; it was an option that actually sounded enjoyable. Planning and leading a town in the forest was a job Gale felt he was made for. And he would no longer have to deal with all that damn paperwork.

Gale clenched his fists and took a deep breath, schooling his features into a calm mask. "When do I start?"

The small man gave a pinched smile. "As soon as possible."