69 years after the Capitol introduced the Hunger Games, division and resentment boil in Panem's twelve Districts. The Capitol's tight grip of control over its outlying territory is showing cracks. Meanwhile, a deadly cancer has taken residence right in the heart of Panem's central city and thrives just under the nose of President Snow. Suspicion, distrust, fear, and paranoia grow as the thin line between peace and chaos wanes.
In District 10, 16 year-old Summer Glenn, the newly-crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, struggles to mesh her desire to return to her old life with her new status as an icon of Panem. Fame and fortune's no draw to Summer, who wants only the familiarity of a home, friendship, and even love. As the Capitol draws her back into the world of the Games, however, she'll have to face more than just coping with her status as a veteran of the arena. A shadowy undercurrent looks to draw her into the Capitol's internal strife, while a looming menace decades in the making seeks to nurture the darkness it sees in Summer's heart.
District 10, Year of the 69th Hunger Games | Late Autumn
A lily falls in the darkness.
The howling wind of the autumn evening buffets the flowers outside my home in District 10's Victor's Village. Gusts swoop in like vultures in the twilight darkness, harbingers of the thunderstorm that's lurking as a shadowy demon on the horizon. Bolts of lightning strike in the distance as warnings that I'm powerless to stop this storm.
I prop my elbows up on my kitchen windowsill and watch as the wind blows my flowers blown apart one by one. I'd planted the lilies as a tribute to my fallen friend from District 12 who had accepted me unconditionally as an ally in the 69th Hunger Games when no one else would. Nature doesn't care. It laughs at me as it knocks aside my memorial to Lily LeBray without so much as shedding a single teardrop from its roiling ocean of thunderclouds.
My tears over the past few months have more than made up for it.
The baritone gusts of the wind sound off like an organ from the earth's subterranean depths and send a chill up my arms. It isn't cold on the prairie yet here in the last days of autumn, but the warm sun of summertime has given way to falling leaves and stormy skies. The animals District 10 works so hard to raise and nurture are little more than plastic-wrapped waiting dinners for the Capitol at this point.
This old, creaking house in the Victor's Village is no home. The Capitol gifted me this three-story mansion the day I'd returned to District 10 from the Hunger Games, but while's warm and well-lit, it's a reminder of just how lonely it can get as a victor. My older sister, Holly, still lives back at our old family ranch, since she'll one day inherit the property as the eldest child. She's too busy these days to visit me much, and my parents seem glad to have found a way to pawn off their wayward younger daughter. I'm left with only my few friends to confide in these days, and I've even come to view them as different, changed. It's as if I've fallen through a giant lens in the months since I first left for the Hunger Games, and now the District 10 I once knew has turned into a strange land shaded in a charcoal shadow.
More and more, the gulf between me and the things I once knew expands.
I look out the window as a cavalcade of dead leaves roars by in the furious wind. Soft yellow light shines like a beacon in the storm from a house across the street and two doors down. At least Austin's still up and about.
Out of my two fellow victors, Austin Ortega's certainly the one with looser morals – and he's not my first choice for company on this haunting evening. Still, he'll do in a pinch. I just want to know someone's there for me in the storm. I don't want to wait all night watching for stars that will never come out from behind the clouds. There are only so many times I can talk to memories and reminisce with dreams.
I shovel down a cold piece of bread from my dinner and toss on a thick scarlet coat. I don't know why I wear this thing when the color reminds me so much of the uniform I wore back in the arena, but it'll keep out the wind. I take a deep breath and reach for my front door.
Slam!
The wind blasts open my door with a cannon shot as soon as I've twisted the knob. I grit my teeth and lean into the wind, just barely managing to shut the door behind me. The coming storm's hitting the road with a full-force gale as if someone's shut a tornado up in the Victor's Village. The storm's going to be ugly overnight. As I slowly lean into the wind and make my way down the road towards Austin's house, I wonder how many houses of slaughterhouse and dairy factory workers across the river will need to be repaired tomorrow.
"Thanks, nature," I say, but my voice is carried off like a silenced victim into the wind.
I make my way to Austin's house and bang on the door with a clenched fist.
"Whatcha want, Summer?" a scratchy voice from inside barks.
I step back. I didn't expect him to know it was me without even looking out the window.
"Can I come in?" I say.
"You have chickens? I have no idea what you just said."
The door opens and golden light spills out into the darkness. Austin's lanky frame and loose brown duster take up almost the entire doorway. Strands of loose black hair blow past his dark eyes, with shadows jumping all across his face against the backdrop of his well-lit home. Austin can pull off the dangerous look without even trying sometimes.
It seems to work for the adoring Capitol audience at least, even though it's been nearly eighteen years since he won the Games.
"Can I come in?" I repeat.
"Why ya' wanna come in?"
I huff and push past him to get out of the wind. I hang my jacket up on his coat rack and turn towards a mirror hanging on the wall. I look wild. Too many long nights of chatting with loneliness in my living room has cut dark circles under my blue eyes. My brown hair's turned into an explosion from the wind despite being pulled back in my usual ponytail, and bits of dead, dry leaves stick out at odd angles from my head. At least I'm not trying to impress anyone tonight. It's not like Austin's going to have company.
"You can't just come barging in here, Summer, it's not an open house," Austin scoffs.
"I don't have anywhere else to go," I say, picking leaves out of my hair.
"Did you think I might have company?"
"No. With who?"
"A friend. Or perhaps just a colleague."
I'm so stunned by the pleasant, refined voice that answers me that I almost fall over. In the hallway that leads to Austin's well-lit living room stands a decidedly average man. His short-cropped brown hair, chestnut-shaped brown eyes and simple tan vest tell me nothing about where he's from. He's neither tall nor short but somewhere in between, and even the faint smile on his face fails to make an impression. It's almost as if he exists in some sort of lower world where blending into the world around is an art.
One thing's for sure: He's the last person I'd expect to be friends with Austin in District 10.
"Summer Glenn?" he tilts his head to the right and takes a step forward. "You'll be getting a lot of that now, I guess."
I hesitate to shake his open hand, settling on reaching up with a grip like a limp fish. "Are you from the ranches?" I ask tentatively.
"The ranches here? No, I'm not like your parents," he says without missing a beat. He's well-informed at least. "Although it always has seemed like a bit more of a…pastoral life, I suppose. I know better, but in theory. Man, woman. Open land. Big sky."
I take my hand back with a snap. Now I know why he can call himself a friend of Austin's. He's not from District 10 at all.
"You're from the Capitol?" I ask, my voice shrinking inside my throat.
Austin steps back into the foyer with a glass of clear liquid in his hand. "Ah, forgot introductions. Summer, this's Scipio Sextus from the Capitol."
Oh, this is not where I want to be tonight. It was a mistake coming here. I know Austin's well-connected with the Capitol crowd – my other fellow victor, Cal, says he enjoys the attention of the wealthier patrons from Panem's central city – but these aren't my people. I sure don't want their attention, not when I'm trying to get over so many things from the Capitol and the Hunger Games.
"I can leave…" I start to say, but this man – Scipio – cuts me off.
"No need. I like meeting new people," he says simply. "Let's go back to the den. A man needs to sit in the light once and a while."
I follow only because of Austin's hand pushing me forward. This man isn't right. He doesn't dress like a Capitolian, he doesn't talk like one, and he doesn't even have the trademark Capitol upspeak accent.
"It's a quaint place here," Scipio says as we enter the living room. He sits down on one of Austin's broad plush chairs and cradles a cup of coffee in his weathered hands. "Nice to be away from the trivialities and noise. I'm sure you're looking forward to it, Austin."
My mentor laughs as he sits down next to me on an adjacent couch. "The, uh, quaintness, gets old after a while. Gotta get away from the smell of cows."
"Mmm," Scipio says, looking out the window without so much as a friendly laugh of acknowledgement. "Not a month before your Victory Tour, after all, Summer. Looking forward to seeing the Capitol again?"
I shrink into the couch. It's as if this man's eyes bear down on me even when he's looking the other way. "It's…a nice place," I lie.
"It's full of banal idiots," Scipio says quickly. "Of course, that's what you probably meant by 'nice,' I'm guessing. I saw your fight in the arena. But don't worry, you'll have a lot more time to enjoy those niceties on the Tour and when the Games roll around next year, anyway."
Scipio leans back and sets his mug down. "You told her much about the Games on the mentor side of it, Austin?"
"Ah, I haven't gotten around to it. Cal's supposed to do that kind of thing," Austin waves him off.
"Maybe a good thing, then," Scipio muses. "Don't want to throw her in right away."
"Throw me into what?"
I clamp my lips shut as soon as I've spoken. I can't help myself from saying stupid things sometimes, but Scipio doesn't berate me for my thoughts. He grins wryly and sticks his thumb under his chin, saying, "All the other games in the Capitol, let's call it. There are more than just the ones that involve hunger."
I watch him silently. Little muscles across his face flex and twitch when he thinks, and his words slide out of his mouth like tiny serpents. "Austin could tell you more. Or ask any of your other fellow victors, now that you're one of them. Might want to start with District 4. Finnick Odair seems to know every nook and cranny of the Capitol these days."
"Finnick?" I ask. I hold back from spitting the name out. The lecherous victor from District 4 is the last person I want to get to know, between his blunt critiques of me on air during the pre-Games training to his confronting me the day before I left the Capitol after I'd won. I don't want anything to do with District 4.
"He's a man of many faces," Scipio says. "We all are. There are a lot of secrets in the Capitol, Summer. A few of them have minds of their own."
Scipio stands up and pulls a cherry-sized metal globe from his pocket. "Now, Summer, Austin and I have some more serious matters to talk about. I'm going to ask to you to give us some time alone. Sorry to disappoint when you're no doubt looking for a little relief from this stormy night, but some things can't wait."
I look over at Austin, but he's on the same page as his Capitol guest. The stone-faced look he gives me tells me that Scipio's request isn't an option. Back to my lonely house it is, then.
When I start down the hall towards the door, however, Scipio leaves me with a final word: "Keep your eyes open when you come back to the Capitol on your Tour, Summer. There are some there who might want to use them to see things you don't want to."
I pause just for a moment before shouldering my jacket and stepping back into the howling wind.
The rain just starts to fall as I trudge back down the street, careful to keep myself from falling down in the gale. I can't tell if Scipio's warning me of something, or if he's just playing a role around Austin. Austin – what does he have to do with this enigmatic man, anyway? I've always had a funny feeling around the younger of my two mentors considering his many connections and friends in Panem's central city, something that many other victors lack, especially from outlying districts like District 10.
There's no way I'm going to figure out everything in my head in one night. One thing's for sure, though: I need to be careful of who I'm honest with. I can trust Cal, Holly, and my two long-time friends, Odessa and Plano, but besides that, the rest of District 10 suddenly feels very distant and cut off.
I wonder if every victor has to fight this strange loneliness after the Games. It's one part battling memories, one part fighting boredom and alienation. Strangers send suspicious looks my way around the district, and with everyone else so busy, I'm left with too much time to ruminate and dwell on things I'd rather not dive into.
My house is just as empty as I left it when I force the front door open and step inside. I hang my coat up and am just about to flick on the lights when I'm interrupted.
"Screak!"
"Ah!" I cry.
The unexpected squeak makes me jump back and slam into the door. I fumble around my wall as fast as I can, lurching for the light switch, desperate to get out of the dark. Somewhere, somewhere…just get the damn lights on!
Finally! My fingers run across the switch and I smack at it until the foyer light flickers on with a low hum.
The darkness and the jump made me expect…what? A mutt? A tribute out to get me? A sharpened spear soaring in from the shadows? When I look around, there's nothing here but an empty hallway, a coat rack, and white paint.
Nothing here at all.
"Screak!"
My nerves jump. I bend down and look under a table in my kitchen when I see it. A tiny brown mouse huddles under a chair, gnawing on a bread crumb and staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. It's searching for a refuge from the storm, a safe haven from the darkness.
It's nothing.
Nothing but a little mouse.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading chapter 1! For those unfamiliar with Summer Glenn and this story, I'd advise first reading the first installment/prequel, Desperado Sun, the tale of Summer's trials in the 69th Hunger Games, which you can find here: s/9887080/1/Desperado-Sun
For those who read through the last story, first - thank you so much! Secondly, welcome back to Summer's journey! Like the last one, I've taken a few creative liberties with the Capitol and Panem for the plot and effect. This time around there'll be a lot more of the characters you're familiar with as compared with the first story. As always, comments, concerns, critiques, and observations are always appreciated as feedback! The Hunger Games, Panem, the twelve Districts, Finnick Odair, Haymitch Abernathy, President Snow, Annie Cresta, and all existing domains of the Hunger Games series referenced here are the property of Suzanne Collins. Rated T for violence, language, and implied themes. Hope you enjoy!