Chapter 1
• Katniss •
I walk through the ashes of district twelve alone. I hear static through the comm device that was forced on me by the rebels. I try to ignore my annoyance at it and walk into the remains of my old house in the seam. The walls are all a dusty black colour from the ashes that now cover every surface I see.
The bombs that the capitol had set on district twelve have destroyed everything, except perhaps the victor's village. That's where I would probably go next.
I walk up to my house and up the stairs that barely still stand, into the bedroom that my mother, Prim and I all shared at one point in our lives. It's saddening to see that what used to be our sanctuary was now lying in a pile of rubble. It's stupid, but it brings tears to my eyes.
Not wanting Gale, up in the hovercraft high above me, to realize what's going through my head I escape the room and run. I run, until I finally reach the victor's village. I slow, and the sounds in my earpiece that I had been ignoring become clear.
"Haymitch what's she doing?" Gale asks him.
"I don't know." Haymitch replies in a hard tone. "Katniss get out of there. You're not alright, we'll take you back to district thirteen and you can rest."
"Katniss come on," Gale says, in a worried tone that suggests something more than politeness or caution. I ignore their voices as I look around me. I start hyperventilating as I realize what I should have before I'd come here. Peeta's house is just ahead – the house that he will probably never live to see again.
I walk slowly up to the door and press my hand against the glass window. "Peeta." I whisper, ignoring the fact that this one word will irritate Gale to no end, and make Haymitch feel beyond guilty. Peeta could be dead right now. I don't know if he is, he was taken from the arena, from me, and was somewhere in the capitol right now. But they wouldn't let me try to find him. I want to go to the capitol desperately, but I'm forced to sit back and do nothing whilst Peeta is being tortured or possibly murdered somewhere I can't reach.
I walk away from the house as my tears begin to fall and I start to hyperventilate all over again.
"Katniss should I come down?" Gale asks me, completely concerned. I roughly rip the tiny piece from my ear and fling it as far away from me as I can in an unknown direction. I don't care if they are panicking for me right now. I walk to the center of the victor's village and sit down in a pile of ash that coats the grass. When even sitting becomes too much effort for me to bear I lie in the endless gray and hope I die right then and there.
The last thing I remember before I lose consciousness, is Gale, coming from an unknown area where the hovercraft had landed, trying to shake me awake again and asking me meaningless questions like "are you okay?" and saying my name. Who cares about me? Peeta's going to die because of me, and I want to die too. Is that so much to ask?
I wake up in a dark room that smells of rot and mildew. My cell, I realize. Thank god. It was only a dream.
Peeta is somewhere safe in district thirteen and I am the one being tortured. I breathe a sigh of relief as I sit up, off of the damp cold stone floor, and rub my eyes, trying to remove the sleep from them.
My body aches, and I'm bruised from head to toe. I'm pretty sure my right hand is broken, but I never let it show in my sessions with the guards. If they see weakness in me they'll use it against both Peeta and I. I can't let that happen to him. A guard, seeing that I'm awake, opens the creaking iron door to my dark cell and picks me up as if I'm a dried leaf and throws me roughly over his shoulder. It's not surprising that I've gotten so light. I only get a single 'meal' a day, usually consisting of half a glass of water and a small bowl of mush consisting of heated grain and if I'm lucky, sometimes oats. My ribs are very prominent and I'm surprised I can stand on my own, given the fact that my muscles can barely lift myself into the single chair in my cell at night.
I let myself see a single face in one of the cells closest to the dungeon's door, Johanna's face. She reaches through the bars as the guard passes, just in time to give me a sympathetic look and squeeze my hand in encouragement. I manage to give a nearly invisible smile as the guard walks into a bright hallway and enters a room that I've become much too familiar with.
Today I see a metal chair and a started fire in one corner, with the end of a long metal object in it, already white hot. I'm going to get branded today.
The guard sets me down in the chair, and metal restraints are placed on my wrists, ankles, and upper arms, so that I can't get free of the chair or move too much. As I'm being secured, another guard comes in and checks the iron in the fire.
The first guard leaves me to the iron. "Do you know where Peeta Mellark is right now?" he asks me firmly.
"No" I say, and tense my body for the first burn. I close my eyes as tight as I can so that I don't have to watch my flesh char. I feel it on the top of my foot first, where the skin is soft and supple, weak. At first the pain is too blinding for me to scream, but then the initial shock wears off and my throat is going raw.
"Were you informed of the rebellion before the games started?" the guard asks as my eyes fill with innumerable amounts of tears that I can just keep from spilling over.
"No." I say, more gasp than say really.
I feel the heat coming off of the iron before it is dragged lightly across my bare thigh - the leftover rags of the clothes that I used to wear had been torn to my thigh a long time ago, though I'd lost track of the days by now - and as it is dragged, it brings a layer of charred skin with it. I scream and grit my teeth. No tears.
My torture goes on for another three hours; my throat now feels like some wild animal - from all the screaming - has clawed it at. When it's finally time for my meal, they drag the chair to a table with the bowl of mush and half-glass of water. I have burns on each finger so it's torture just to pick up the spoon. The water is actually cold, with condensation on the sides, and I gratefully wrap both my hands around it and try not to show the relief it brings as I sip at it.
Suddenly the door opens, and president snow himself appears along with two peacekeepers flanking him. I grit my teeth and remind myself that attacking him would only bring on further torture. I wouldn't normally care –well I might during the torture – but the still-sane part of my brain that is bent on living keeps me from being rash.
"Good afternoon miss Everdeen." Says Snow, which makes me want to slap him. I clasp my hands together under the table. "I trust today was no worse than usual?"
"Not at all." I say sarcastically, this earns me a glare. Why am I even bothering to stay in control?
"Good. I have a job for you today, and you'd best not mess it up."
"What is it?"
"An interview with Ceaser Flicherman, on national television, live."
My jaw drops.
• Peeta •
I'm in the Everdeens' compartment, talking with Prim, when my comunicuff buzzes on my wrist. I've mostly lost track of what she's saying, but I can understand what she means mostly.
"Peeta, you shouldn't worry so much." Says Prim. "They have to keep her alive. They know you love her." She pats my arm as I look at my wrist.
"Thanks Prim." I say stiffly. "Sorry, I have to go, Coin wants to see me in command. I'll be back later…maybe."
I walk down the hall in a daze, like I always do, thinking about how Katniss's capture was my entire fault. Everything. I was separated from her and I didn't protest, all because of the stupid allegiance with Finnick, Johanna and Beetee. How could I have been so stupid?
When I finally reach command, everyone is gathered around a large screen and he or she motions me over to join them. On the screen, the capitol seal flashes on the screen and then they cut to a scene familiar to my eyes, except I was usually on the other side of the screen. Ceaser Flickerman is introducing his guest. Katniss Everdeen. I shove through the crowd of people until I'm right in front of the screen.
She's thin, Very thin. I can see her ribs clearly defined against her yellow gown, despite the capitol's efforts to hide them with extra padding in the dress. Her cheeks seem hollow, and I can see the lacerations, bruises, and burns on her skin despite the extensive makeup, which makes me wonder how bad these things really are if they've attempted to cover them.
"Well Katniss, it's been a while hasn't it?" Asks Ceaser, helping her into her seat as she tries to cover the pain, but I know the look in her eyes too well to be comforting.
"Yes," she agrees "I bet you thought you'd done your last ever interview with me last time."
"I confess, I did." Ceaser replies. "but tell us, do you have any news about Peeta that you wish all of Panem could hear."
I can see her deliberating for a while before Ceaser asks "Katniss?"
"Yes." She says. "Yes I have something to say about Peeta." She looks from Ceaser to the camera and I find myself staring into her gray eyes. "Peeta, if you're watching this then this message is for you. I want to tell you that worrying about me is a lost cause. Don't. you'll only hurt yourself. And no matter what you do, I don't care why you do it, don't leave wherever you are that is keeping you safe. You'll be abolished and that would kill me in a way worse than any of the ways I've been tortured so far. Please, try to forget me if you can. I love you. Don't come after m-"
her last line is cut short as a peacekeeper comes on screen, shoves her roughly to the ground, her frail body curling into a ball and the peacekeeper takes out a baton and – to my extreme horror – begins to beat her with it. She screams and I'm in a panic. I hear someone screaming her name then, and I realize it's me. Suddenly, someone is pulling me away from the screen, and I realize that it's Gale. He would know – well, at least understand – what I was going through right now, I supposed. But why was he pulling me away from the one place I'd seen Katniss in weeks?
"Calm down. Peeta! Calm down! Stop fighting me!" Gale says. He's interlocked his arms with mine so that I can't get away. Finally I stop fighting and Plutarch Heavensbee comes over to where I've slid to the ground against the wall and Gale is crouching beside me looking half irritated, half concerned for my mental health.
"Peeta, we brought you here to tell you that we're sending a rescue team for Katniss." He says. I look up at him, my eyes locking on his, intensely focused for once.
"a rescue team." I say. "when?"
"today, but we need both Gale, and your help. We need both of you as a distraction. Beetee says he's found a way to hack into the Capitols television network. If we interview both of you while the rescue happens, it will be a very well planned distraction that will completely detour Snow from his attentiveness with Katniss." He explains.
"I'm going with you. Record my interview, then use the film from it. I'm going to help you." Both of them must see that there's no wiggle room in my request, because they don't protest, and only nod.
By early evening I'm on a hovercraft, nearing the capitol with every second, and I've been briefed on the plan. I'd done my interview earlier and now I was dressed in a Kevlar unitard and had been given a machine gun that I now gripped tightly.
It had turned out that Gale had unavoidable business with Beetee in weapons that couldn't be pushed out of the way long enough for him to come along, no matter how much he'd begged Plutarch and Coin.
Plutarch and Haymitch are both on the hovercraft, in another section, and they would be able to contact us through our earpieces the whole time we were on the ground, so to speak.
"Can you hear me all right Peeta?" Haymitch asks in a stressed tone.
"Loud and clear" I reply.
"Alright, we're about to land on the roof of the training center, we've been informed that this is where they have Katniss." Plutarch tells me.
"Boggs is the lead commandant on this assignment." Haymitch says, and I feel a slight twinge of annoyance that they feel the need to remind me of this. "So you have to follow his lead. Don't do anything stupid, alright kid?"
"I know." I say, though in my head I'm willing to do anything stupid to get Katniss back, even if I have to turn myself over.
• Katniss •
I wake up, aware that my ankles, wrists and arms are all bound uncomfortably tight, and I'm lying on cold tiles in a dark room that is only illuminated by a bluish-gray glow, coming from what I can only imagine are screens of some sort. I try to wriggle into a slightly more comfortable position but I feel a massive twinge of protest in my arm.
I refuse to look at the limb, because I already know it's broken, the first hit of the baton on the interview stage broke it, and I remember the face of the peacekeeper, who probably got some sort of award for doing this to me. I clench my teeth bitterly.
"What's this," a voice off to my left says. "She finally waking up?" I feel a boot kick my side and I yelp involuntarily.
"Took her long enough." Says another voice, and I think that it's the peacekeeper that broke my arm.
"Untie her legs so she can stand and see the screens." This voice brings me to a whole new state of both terror and rage. President Snow. I try not to move as the knife is pulled from a boot and slashes the rope on my ankle. The person removing the rope apparently doesn't mind the sight of blood, because there's a continuous gush now coming from where the knife was placed further in than necessary to remove my bonds. I'm dragged to my feet and put into a metal chair that faces a large number of screens stacked one on top of the other, all showing images of different rooms and halls.
My fingers twitch and I instantly regret the movement because the burns I had forgotten about are now instantly back in my mind. I gasp in pain and the guards' chuckle.
"So. Are you finally willing to cooperate?" president Snow asks me politely.
"I've been cooperating with you the whole time." I say. "You're just too stupid to see the truth. I don't know anything."
"I'm not an idiot, look at these monitors." He replies and steps out of my line of sight so that, for the first time since I opened my eyes, I get a clear view of the screens.
I hadn't paid much attention to them before, but now I see that moving from one screen to another, is a group of people all dressed in Kevlar, or some other type of protective-gun-proof armor who are all fighting against the guards in the building.
Upon even closer inspection, I see that I know one of the people armed with a machine gun. Peeta.
My heart nearly stops as I stand up by myself and press both of my bound hands to one of the screens. Suddenly I see him stagger back, and I'm expecting him to lie there and bleed to death when a thought occurs to me. He's got armor. And sure enough, he stands back up with much pain in his expression, but he's still very much functioning.
"So, you don't know anything about this?" asks Snow in a triumphant tone.
"No!" I shout in a rage-induced tone. I suddenly go for his throat, not bothering to be subtle. The peacekeepers grab me easily with my bound limbs.
I look back at the monitors and can see what the pain is really doing to him. Peeta's slower than the rest of his group and suddenly I whip around again to see Snow.
"I swear I don't know anything! Don't hurt him! He doesn't know any better!" as I scream, I see Peeta freeze where he is on camera, as if he can hear me shouting. I realize now that Snow hadn't anticipated him being this close by now. I see both the guards pull out their own menacingly dangerous guns from under a counter top at the back of the room.
Suddenly, two fists contact my body, one knocking the wind out of me at my stomach, another hits me squarely in the jaw, and I find myself spitting blood as I fall back against the thick metal door of the room. In my peripheral vision I see a door shake in one of the cameras, just as Peeta is about to pass it. Without knowing it, the guards have just told Peeta exactly where I am.
Now I can hear him frantically shouting my name on the other side of the door. "Katniss! Katniss, Katniss!" Peeta yells through the door and throws himself against it, as if he's trying to break it down. His motion is shaking me where I sit. I'm regaining some of my breath, so I attempt to shout his name and pound on the door in response, but what happens is much less impressive.
"Peeta" I manage to croak in a raspy tone and my bound hands make a light thud on the door.
The guards then stupidly pick me up and slam me against the door angrily and I slide to the ground with a blood now streaming from a wound at the back of my head. Every voice I hear now, except for Peeta's, is a mute slur in my jumbled thoughts.
"Get away from the lock!" He shouts through the door urgently, and suddenly I'm free of the guards, who are reaching to load their guns.
"Now!" I manage shout as I dive away from the door under the countertop at the back of the room and curl myself into the best fetal position I can manage as the door is blown open and guns are being fired like mad. A single bullet just brushes my broken arm and I'm clenching my teeth together trying to hold back tears.
When the guns finally stop, I'm afraid to open my eyes. What if Peeta has been hit? What if he's dead? I can't bear to think of what would happen then.
Then I feel strong arms pulling me out from under the counter and whispering soothing things to me. "Katniss, Katniss look at me." Peeta whispers. "Open your eyes, I'm right here."
I slowly open them, doubting what I hear, and Peeta is there, holding me across his knees and I'm looking into his bright blue eyes as tears from the pain that no longer matters fall down my face. He wipes them away with his thumb and kisses my forehead. "It's okay, I've got you." He says. But I don't believe him. What if this is just another of my dreams? I reach out to touch him, just to make sure, and I cry out in pain and pull my arm back, realizing for at least the third time today that it's broken.
"Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" he asks, a crease forming between his eyebrows out of worry.
"Everywhere." I reply with a sob. "Please don't leave me." I don't know where all my weakness has come from, but I'm suddenly unwilling to move, to go anywhere, without Peeta.
"I would never." He replies gently.
Carefully, he shifts my weight off of him, and then scoops me up as if I weigh no more than a feather, without causing me a large amount of pain. "Boggs, her leg." I hear Peeta say, and someone clamps his or her hand over the leg that was cut with the knife after I'd woken up. I protest when the pain gets worse, but Peeta reassures me that they need to stop the bleeding.
"Can we tie a tourniquet?" asks a third, unfamiliar voice.
Someone obviously suggests something through their earpieces because Peeta just says, "got it." And walks at a very quick pace with Boggs in front of him so he can keep pressure on my leg.
I float in and out of consciousness as they walk back through the training center, apparently to the roof, where a large hovercraft is waiting for us. When they get to the last door, they open it and I can see chaos.
Rebels and capitol soldiers are in the middle of a gunfight around the edges of the rooftops, bullets flying this way and that; I don't know how we'll make it.
"Can she run?" the third voice asks and I look over to see a boy who reminds me of Gale somewhat, but most definitely is not.
"No she can't run!" Peeta replies furiously, as if the possibility of this was completely obscene. "I'll have to carry her. Cover me." The other two men nod, and I set my sights on the hovercraft, which I can now see Haymitch leaning out of.
"Run!" he shouts at us loud enough to wake up half the capitol.
Peeta starts forward, trying not to jostle me but he's too slow. "Don't worry about me, just get to the hovercraft!" I say.
He obliges and the next thing I know, I'm being set down on the floor of the hovercraft on Peeta's lap and Haymitch is standing over us both. Then my consciousness fades and the world goes black.