Ooh, look, it's me, and I'm updating just like I said I would! Yay!
Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites! Thanks to all of you for following as well. I hope some of you will leave me some comments this time.
A few things about this chapter. I had to take MANY liberties with location, security and characterization. Especially with Plutarch and Beetee. The newer characters aside, because those are a given, Plutarch and Beetee were difficult for me. I hope I did them justice. Also, the newer characters are all mine except for one, and she's in the next chapter. Lastly, tying all of this together will be tricky for me. So we'll see how I do.
I don't own The Hunger Games. That belongs to Suzanne Collins. I defer to her. Also, even with my (beta) person, we might have missed a few things. My apologies.
Now, go on! Read and enjoy!
Trust
The terrain outside the hovercraft is flat, barren and bright. There is very little if any cover, and we have very limited time to decide what to do and where to go. In the distance, I see structures that look like guard towers and beyond that I see mountains. Somewhere to the northeast lies the Capitol. We cannot go that way. With the hovercraft being our main source of cover now, we use it to devise a new plan — a plan that must include ending up in District 13, a place I had long believed to no longer exist that will eventually become our new home.
"The substation is on the other side of the district," Plutarch says as he holds a holo in his hand with a layout of the land illuminated above it. "It's well-protected, and they'll have more supplies for us to carry with us to 13. And from there, we can make our way to District 10."
At first, most of us nod, because we have accepted him as our temporary leader, but Finnick argues with him.
"District 10 is more than a thousand kilometers away," he says. "And we have to go through 11 to get to 12 and then 13. 11 has to heaviest security of any of the districts. We should go to 4. It's closer, and the defenses aren't as deep. We're more likely to get to 7, 9 and 6. They're safer and less guarded than the districts in the south."
Plutarch doesn't seem to like Finnick saying this, sighing heavily. "I understand your need to go to 4, Finnick," he says. "And under different circumstances, we could do it, but the heavy security is guarding the better supplies. The longer we walk, the more time passes after the Purge. If they're still sweeping the Villages, and we're close, they'll capture us. I'm sorry, but we can't do that right now. We have to get Katniss to 13."
"There aren't enough supplies here to get us to 10," Finnick counters. "At best, they'll have enough to get us a third of the way. That gets us to 4. 10 is too far, Plutarch. You didn't have me studying the map to disagree with me now."
Plutarch doesn't back down, challenging Finnick as he says, "And you don't have any other reason to lead us that way, do you?"
The sea-green eyes I have only known to be flirtatious and boyish change immediately, flashing with fury, and I'm reminded of the other Finnick — not the charming, wild rogue I met before the tribute parade, but the killer who so willingly eliminated his treats that he was quicker than even me.
Calm but firm, he replies, "This is the safest way. And this isn't just about Annie. Yes, I want to get to her, because I'm certain she'll be there. But don't question my motives now. This is my task, remember? Keeping us safe. Listen to me."
The looks they give each other gives me an impression of a team working together, but the way they're arguing tells me that Finnick's priorities are shifting away from Plutarch's even if it might not be wrong. Johanna steps up to Finnick's side, facing Plutarch with her chin tipped up toward him.
"If we get to 4, we can get enough supplies to make it to 7. From 7, we'll have cover to make it to 9 and then 6," she says, a little less enthusiastically but with enough conviction that Plutarch begins to give in. "We all know you want to get Katniss to 13. But it's not just about that anymore. We can't make it to 10 with supplies from here. There won't be enough. That's why you put Finnick in charge of the map. Now, if the two of you can stop arguing, we really need to get moving. The tower is sweeping the area with their infrared by now."
Finnick and Plutarch nod, agreeing, with her and with each other, and they both glance at me before doing what she says.
With Peeta and Haymitch helping Beetee, we leave the safety of the hovercraft and head due west, which should take us south of the district's boundaries.
The fence for 5 isn't nearly as high as it was in 11, but the top is still barbed to deter people from climbing over. Finnick and Plutarch lead Peeta and Haymitch with Beetee while Johanna and I take up the tail of our group, and because of the terrain, we have to move as quick as possible while also staying as close to the ground as possible. We're far enough away that I don't think any of the guards would be able to see us without sensors, but if what Johanna says is true, it won't be long before they have us located.
"How long have you been planning this again?" I ask Johanna as we trek as carefully as possible.
"This?" she replies. "About twenty minutes."
I huff. "You know what I mean. This whole thing to get me out of there. Why is Finnick learning to fly a hovercraft and studying a map of our country? Why does he know how far we are from his district?"
"I was in charge of supplies for the Cornucopia," she says. "Beetee was in charge of destroying the arena. Finnick was the only one who volunteered for two tasks. And he was the only one who could get close enough to the guard stations to even see the inside of a hovercraft. So it made sense to put him in charge of that."
I look up toward Finnick as he and Plutarch lead us. How could he have possibly gotten close to the guard stations? He's just a victor. Wasn't he watched the same as we all were? That does not make any sense.
Without me saying anything, Johanna continues.
"For a long time, we were a rebellion without a symbol. Working in the shadows. Collecting intelligence. Learning guard shifts and overturn schedules. Bribing Capitol officials. And then the 74th Games happened."
"When Peeta and I became victors," I say.
She nods, smirks and then turns her hazel green eyes to mine. "Plutarch remembered you from the private sessions with the gamemakers, and when he saw you win, his exact words were, 'She's a fighter, that one.' Finnick was in the Capitol, mentoring. I was . . . otherwise unavailable. But Plutarch saw you, and he knew we had a chore on our hands. It wasn't until his talks with President Snow led him to the conclusion he came to — that the only way we'd get you out of District 12 alive was to put you in place where there weren't any Peacekeepers. In the arena, it was just us, and Finnick and I made sure of that."
"How many were there?" I ask, unable to really react because what she's saying is too unbelievable for me to really have any reaction at all.
"Before the Quell, only a small number. It was safer to keep them in the dark, like it was safer for you. Me, Finnick, Haymitch and Plutarch were the only ones who could move around without being detained, and even then, we had to be careful. After the Quell was announced, Plutarch needed to bring in more of us in order to keep you safe. We didn't know who would get chosen, especially in the districts with smaller numbers of victors, but we were lucky. Beetee, Cecilia, Chaff and Seeder. Wiress and the Morphlings were told parts of the plan, but there was only so much they could handle. Woof said he would help. But in the first minutes, I had priorities and so did Finnick. And we lost people."
Her voice has turned sad. With no cameras around, she must feel the need to not only be honest with me but herself. Her speech in the arena of there being no one left that she loved must have been that — a speech. These victors, these other people who had been through the same things she had, they were her friends too, just as they were Haymitch's. I only knew them for a few days. She'd known them for years.
I remember something that I didn't have time to process in the moment, and my hand moves out on its own, touching her shoulder. "I'm sorry about Blight," I say, to which she scoffs and grins. "I know what you said in the arena, but I'm still sorry."
She glances at me, still grinning, and for a split second maybe, I can see her eyes shining. But then she blinks and turns her eyes to the horizon.
We walk uneventfully for nearly an hour along the fence, staying down and having to hide behind the minimal shrubbery available when Finnick whistles for us to crouch down. Soon, the infrared scans will catch us, if they haven't already. We're running out of time. But trekking this way is our only choice.
The heat of the sun forces us all to delve into the small water reserve Plutarch brought with him, and rationing it is difficult for those of us who have just spent the last few days in an arena where freshwater wasn't exactly abundant.
Slowly, we cross through the ruins of two communities outside the district fence, abandoned for far too long for anything to have survived, and there is more cover here, allowing us to rest and sit out of the sun. Because there are seven of us, our cover has to be large enough for Beetee to sit and for Plutarch to gauge our position.
"These old roads should take us west and then north to the substation," Plutarch says over the holo. "We not halfway there yet, but a few more kilometers, and these roads here will lead us out of the ruins. We need the cover, but the infrared scans will only reach so far. And they might have orders to pursue any strange occurrences outside the fence. It's very important that we don't lead them to the station."
Just like when we were in the hovercraft, most everyone agrees. This time, it's Peeta who speaks up.
"Infrared detects heat signatures though, doesn't it?" he asks.
Plutarch nods.
"And with the sun out, all these metal buildings will reflect their scans. Make it look like everything is hot. Hotter than our own body temperature."
He looks at me, and together, we look at Haymitch.
The idea settles over Johanna and Finnick, and they agree before Beetee speaks for the first time since leaving the hovercraft.
"Well, if we're taking a vote, then I say we at least attempt to scavenge the ruins for anything we can use to keep us from suffering heat stroke or dehydration. Heat signatures and infrared scans aside, eluding them won't make a difference if we drop dead from overheating."
Because they're outnumbered, Plutarch and Haymitch agree, albeit grudgingly, and we're about to put this new plan into action when a sharp ping slams into the metal of the building less than sixty feet from where we're all sitting.
Immediately, we're all on point. I draw an arrow, notch it into place and aim up high as Peeta takes his place next to me with the automatic rifle in his hands aimed in the same direction. Johanna and Finnick pull Beetee farther into the enclosure we're resting inside, and Haymitch yanks Plutarch out of the way just as another object whizzes by the edge of the opening. Because it's so bright, seeing anything is difficult, if not impossible, but I have a feeling that whoever is shooting at us knows this.
My eyes catch movement along a rooftop on the opposite side of the street, and without thinking, I aim and release my arrow. I know it hits something. Instinctively, I just know. Whether I hit a person or a cat is not yet known to me. Quickly, I notch another arrow and aim, ready to release it when the arrow I just shot slices through the air to lodge itself into the hood of an antique car rotting the middle of the street.
"Cover me," I say to Peeta, gripping my bow and the arrow ready to be shot before I quickly make my way toward my arrow. I know he shadows me easily, so I don't even look back.
The closer I get to the arrow, I see something attached to it. At first, I think it's a surrender message because it is a white cloth. But when I look at it, there is a message written on it, or rather a drawing — a drawing of my Mockingjay.
I don't have time to ask for permission, lifting my eyes toward the sky where the arrow came from and hoping I don't get shot for this.
"We have a man with us who needs medical treatment," I shout. "I can't promise none of you will get hurt. But I don't think you would be doing what you're doing if you were worried about yourselves. Help us and I promise none of your sacrifices will be in vain. My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm from District 12. These people with me are my friends. And we need your help."
Slowly and from less of a distance than I was expecting, a band of people twice the size of ours all emerge from their perches. Some are behind cars a hundred feet away. Others are hiding inside buildings that have long been forgotten by time. One man, tall with a dark beard, dark hair and dark eyes, approaches me from the building in front of me — the building where I shot my first arrow. His left arm is stained with blood, but otherwise, he is dressed in casual clothes.
"We heard reports that the arena had been destroyed," he says. "Our families inside the fence all said the screens went black after the explosion. Flickerman reported none of the tributes had been rescued. Guess he lied."
He stops, and I glance back at Peeta before looking at him again.
"My name is Benedict Allensworth. If you're Katniss Everdeen, then this must be the rebellion. We were told by Maggie to keep an eye out for you. Who needs medical attention?"
Slowly, I lower my bow, and he lowers his rifle before I back up to where Peeta is standing still on edge. I nod into the enclosure, and my new friend nods to the left and then whistles loudly down the valley of buildings toward something I can't see.
"How many do you have with you?" he asks while kneeling next to Beetee as Finnick and Johanna eye him suspiciously.
"This is it," Peeta says.
"So, six victors and a Head Gamemaker," he replies. "We were expecting more."
Johanna grips her ax, and Finnick stands slowly, shielding me and Peeta from the new arrival.
Gently, he laughs. "You can all relax. If I wanted to kill you, I would have given the signal by now. We have scan blockers all throughout the area. The guards couldn't sweep this area even if they wanted to. Their sensors tell them this entire place is flooded with radiation from hundreds of years ago."
"Is it?" Finnick asks.
"Not anymore."
"Where is Magnolia?" Plutarch asks.
"The substation, of course," Benedict says. "Some things have changed since the Victory Tour. If we can get indoors, I'll explain."
Normally, this would be the part where I would say 'thanks, but no thanks,' especially with the way he alerted us to his presence. But there is something in his face and his eyes that tells me he can be trusted. I glance at Peeta, and slowly, he agrees with me. Finnick and Johanna do as well, and though Haymitch is the holdout, he eventually concedes and allows Benedict's companions to help with Beetee.
Indoors turns out to be an abandoned apartment complex of some kind, similar to the ones I've seen in the Capitol but on a much smaller scale. In some areas, the walls have been knocked completely out, and in others, bunk beds line the walls and medical supplies fill counter tops. Two women dressed similarly to Benedict help Beetee to one of the beds and immediately begin assessing him. We all know he has nerve damage from the force field, but it looks like more could be wrong with him. Hopefully, they can help him.
Their communications hub isn't too far away from there, but I still don't feel any better about leaving Beetee alone with anyone who isn't one of us. From what Benedict tells us, immediately after the arena exploded, several reports came across their hub saying that all the tributes inside had been killed from the explosion. Something else he tells us is even more disturbing than our apparent deaths.
"Several of our scouts inside the fences sent word back to us that the guards all converged on the Village," he says gravely. "We haven't been able to confirm anything, but our guess is that Snow has ordered that all Victors be exterminated. And if that's right, you six are the only ones left. Consider yourselves an endangered species."
Of the seven of us who got out alive, Plutarch is the least surprised, and since all three of District 12's victors are standing here, I'm a little less worried. But all the others like us. How is that possible? And why would it be necessary?
Finnick picks this moment to reiterate his earlier concern. "We have to get to 4. It's our best chance to get around Snow's guards, and if they're doing sweeps, we have to get to the closest district. We're wasting time just standing here."
"Excuse us for holding you up, Mr. Odair," Benedict chides. "We don't consider the killing of innocent people to be a waste of time. Those are our people too, even if they did live in better circumstances than the rest of us."
With his jaws clenched, Finnick glares at our new friend. "What I meant was, every second we stand here and talk about what's going on, it's another second he has to find us and kill us. If what you're saying is true, then we're all in danger if we stand still for too long. I knew the other Victors in 5. I knew the other victors in all of the districts. They were my friends too. If they're gone, there's nothing we can do to help them. But we can help the kids out there who one day might become like them."
"What? Winners?" Benedict scoffs.
Finnick takes a step toward him, his fists balled and his jaw set hard. Peeta stops him before he can get two steps closer.
"No," Finnick says through his clenched teeth. "Victims."
The confusion on Benedict's face is obvious, and it is only then that Finnick allows Peeta to push them apart.
"As luck would have it, we can spare just enough supplies to get you to 4. From there, unless the next station is intact, you'll be on your own. And in order to get out of this area, you'll need to change. We have uniforms for you to dress in so the guards won't stop you."
That they have peacekeeper uniforms shouldn't surprise me, and on a very basic level, it doesn't. But then I find one in my size, and Johanna finds one. I'm amazed at our luck. I just wonder if it will hold.
Next chapter should be up in a week. I'm really enjoying writing it, even if some bad things have happened (no spoilers, sorry!)
I hope you all enjoyed this and will let me know what you think!
Later!
