The Capitol. Of course. Now that he's snuffed out the girl who was on fire, President Snow has come to make good on his promise. To destroy those Katniss loved. Her home. Her people. Crush us here in District 12 before we can even think about rebelling. Wouldn't want the other Districts to get any subversive ideas now, would we? Especially not 8...
I remember that day. The day that changed everything. When Katniss blurted out what she'd seen on the mayor's television: an uprising in District 8. I've always known if just enough of us rose up together, we could bring down the Capitol. And it was finally happening. I probably should've left with her then, even if she wanted to bring Peeta along. But how could I when people were fighting back? After all the Capitol had done to her? Our people? To me?
The whistle of a whip hisses clear in my head. The searing sting of it slices through my back, the memory fresh and painful as ever. I wonder about Romulus Thread, the brutal Head Peacekeeper who gave me the lashing. Did the Capitol clear him out? Give him advance warning? Or just leave him to fend for himself, his services as their obedient guard dog no longer needed? Knowing the Capitol, I'm betting on that last one.
The pain of my whipping dissolves into another memory. A hazy vision of warm flowing bliss and Katniss, kissing me softly. Katniss, who stayed for me. And now she's gone...
Tears prick at my eyelids. I blink them away as a powerful explosion thunders through the Seam. This isn't the time for memories and mourning. A house flares up, just a few streets over. Then another. And another, as panicked cries fill the street. Bodies move urgently, pressing every which way. Trampling those who have fallen, pushing even more to the ground. That bomb hit much too close. We have to get out of here.
We run through the streets of the Seam. The ground trembles as a near constant boom ricochets off the walls, echoes in between alleyways. Posy's awake now, wailing hysterically. It must be terrifying to wake up in the midst of this chaos. I want to comfort her, to soothe and reassure her, but I can't. We must keep going.
Home after home lights up like kindling. We turn down a street and find several frantic people, fire contorting their burning bodies. I want to stop and help. But I know if I do, it will mean death for me, for my family. One burning man reaches his hand out, grabbing at the blanket that covers Posy. It starts to ignite. Posy screams in my ear. The thought of my sweet little Posy burning sends such a shiver of horror through me, I don't even feel the heat when I put out the flames with my hand.
Smoke and coal dust clog the night air, making it difficult to breathe. We pull our jackets and shirts up over our mouths for protection. I cover Posy's face with the singed blanket. All I can think is we have to get out of the Seam. Coal and wood and densely packed streets have transformed our home into a massive fire trap. I know of only one place we can go.
"The Meadow!" I shout hoarsely, smoke scalding my throat. "We have to get to the Meadow!" My mother nods in understanding. I shout at the people who surround us. "The Meadow," I cough out, pointing wildly in its direction. "Get to the Meadow!"
With one arm, I clench Posy tight against my chest. The other finds and clings to my mother's hand. She, in turn, grabs Vick, who holds tight to Rory. I pick up the pace. Together, the five of us wind our way through the desperate people and burning streets of the Seam, hoping for safety in the Meadow. Out the corner of my eye, I see a crowd swell behind us as others follow.
The lack of burning houses and cooler, fresher air alerts me that we're nearing the Meadow. As we approach, my feet stop abruptly. I don't mean to stop, but the sight of Katniss' old house brings me up short. The change in momentum flings my family backward. Bodies pour around us, not letting their journey to safety be hindered by anything. My mother looks at me questioningly.
I remember that day in the Justice Building. Was it really just a year ago? The first reaping. Before the Games ruined everything. Don't let them die... Katniss' voice rings in my head. I won't, I told her. You know I won't... Her mother and sister. I made a promise to Katniss then, that I would protect them. I can't break that promise now. I have to go back.
"You're almost to the Meadow," I turn to my mother. As understanding settles in, her questioning face becomes alarmed. "Just keep going. Go as far as the fence, the woods if you have to. Rory can show you how. Wait for me there, okay? The fence, the woods. I'll find you." Alarm turns to terror as I hand Posy over.
"Gale...no," she whispers, voice rough from smoke.
"I have to." I kiss Posy and my mother on the forehead. "It's what she would want. I'll be back, I promise." I turn to Rory, not wanting my mother's pleading gray eyes to change my mind. "Show them the way, okay? You all stick together. No matter what. You wait for me at the fence, or in the woods if need be. Where I showed you, remember?" After Rory nods, I run back into the inferno that is District 12.
"But Gale..." I hear Rory calling behind me. I ignore him. I know if I turn around, I'll stay. I'll break my promise to Katniss. So I keep on. It's only when I've gotten too far to turn back do I remember: the fence was fortified months ago. The hole beneath that was once our entrance to the woods, now patched and secured. Damn. How did I forget that? Damn! They'll still be okay, I tell myself. I'm not sure I really believe it. All I can do now is find Katniss' family and make my way back as fast as possible.
The devastation seems most concentrated in the center of the District where it's heavily populated, so I keep to the edges, working my way along the fence that separates District 12 from the wild. Others make their way like this too, but not nearly as many as I'd expect. I tell those I do come across to head to the Meadow. It's safe in the Meadow. I try not to wonder if that's actually true. Or if so, for how long. If the Capitol is bent on destroying us, is there really anywhere we could hide?
In the distance, about where the Victors' Village should be, I see no traces of fire. No thick columns of smoke, no blazing orange spirals. The bombs haven't reached here yet. This gives me hope for Katniss' mother and sister. I break into a run, despite the heavy air. My lungs protest, but I push on anyway.
When I'm near the Village, an explosion rocks the earth hard. The bombers must be targeting the edges of the District now. A flaming chunk of wood flies onto the path before me. The heat of it scorches my face before I can take a step back. When I do jump back, another explosion jolts me. I'm lifted up off the ground, my shoulder slammed into the back of a burning building.
"Gale!" I hear the scream of a young girl, her voice familiar. Arms drag me away from the building, stamp out the growing heat on my face and arm. I look up, into the blank blue eyes of Katniss' mother. She looks almost calm, serene. Detached. Prim is beside her, pale face streaked with tears and ash. They're alive.
"Gale! We were worried they might come for us, and for you, and..." Prim falters. "After... Katniss..." Tears fill her blue eyes. I pat the back of her hand. I want to share in her grief, to mourn with her. But there's no time. Katniss' mother has the right idea: detachment. That's the only way we're going to get through this night. I get up. Shaky, but up.
"We have to get out of here—my mother's waiting back in the Meadow. I think we could be safe there. We can always go into the woods if we have to. No electricity." I rattle the fence for emphasis.
"But the fire, it's everywhere..." Prim says.
She's right; the fire is everywhere. Everything burns. The town burns. The Seam burns. My lungs burn. My heart burns. Even the path behind us—the path back to safety, I had hoped—is now blocked by flaming debris. We're trapped between the useless fence and a street that leads to the center of town. We can head into the heart of the destruction, or...
"The fence. We'll go over." Prim and her mother both look at me doubtfully, eyeing the sharp barbed-wire coiled along the top.
I follow their gaze along the length of chain-link steel. If only there was a tall enough tree nearby. But there's not. I think. All we really need is something to protect our hands while we climb over. Gloves. A heavy blanket. Something.
Before either Prim or her mother can stop me, I dash into one of the burning houses nearby. I get lucky—in the front hall lies a thick, decorative carpet, untouched by fire. Perfect. Thank you, town people, I think. No one in the Seam would own a carpet like this—it's worth far too many meals.
I sling the long carpet over the barbed-wire coils and climb to the top of the fence. I struggle to maintain my balance while holding down the carpet, motioning for Prim to climb up. After some hesitation—abated by another bomb almost knocking me from my perch—the three of us make it over. We pause to take in deep lungfuls of cool night air, then stumble along the rocky ground back toward the Meadow. The fiery glow from District 12 lights our way in the dark.
When we're close to the Meadow, I pause. I see Rory and Vick ahead, dutifully waiting for me. I see my mother sitting on the ground next to them, back against the fence, soothing Posy. I also see beyond them, deep into the field. Where hundreds of people huddle, flocked together like sitting ducks. It would take, what? One bomb, maybe two, to take all these people out? This is not good. Not at all.
Within minutes, the carpet is slung over the fence and I'm standing in the Meadow. Soot and ash rain down like dirty snow. Beyond, the Seam blazes red, angry flames lapping the dark sky. I survey the crowd. Ashen heads fill the space, as far as I can see. Hundreds. Maybe even a thousand. We have to get these people into the woods, I think. There, we'll have the cover of trees. And if I can get everyone to the lake—Katniss' lake—we'll at least have a water source. But all of us gathered here in the Meadow... None of us are safe like this.
My mind races. I look back at the fence. It has to come down so we can get people out. Anything else will take too long. I scour the weary group for anyone who can help. It's mostly a team of guys from the mines, including Bristel and Thom from my crew. It takes more time than it should and the last bit of strength we've got left, but we finally do it: we loosen the fence from its fortified base. An entire section goes down with a loud clang. To my surprise, a cheer rings out from the crowd.
It dawns on me how much a symbol of our oppression this fence has been. Of course, I always knew that. But I never really thought about what that meant to others, since I had no problem leaving its confines whenever I could. It's only now, as I look into the dirty, dazed but triumphant faces of my friends and neighbors, do I realize how rare my behavior was. For most here, this is the first time they've even contemplated life outside of District 12. Outside of the fence. Away from the Capitol's reach.
It's why, despite everything that's happened, I feel a twinge of joy. Maybe we can be free. And if we can somehow make it as free people, then Katniss' death will not have been in vain. I'll see to that. But first, we have to survive the night.
Dirty and exhausted, we make the hours long trek through the woods to Katniss' lake. There, we can see the flames still eating away all that we knew. The Capitol's bombers have long since left, but we take precautions anyway, sticking to the most densely wooded areas. On the way, I recover the bows and arrows me and Katniss hid in tree trunks and brush. My hunting knife. A fishing net. We'll need these for food, although I have no idea how I'm going to feed all these people.
Katniss' mother and sister set up a medical station in the little house where I found Katniss that fateful day. They use nearby herbs and leaves and boiled water to treat the wounded. Katniss' mother insists on treating me as well—my arm's banged up pretty bad and I've got some burns on my hands and face. I let her give me a salve for my burns, remembering the magical concoction she used to treat my back. I try not to think of Katniss, even though this place is teeming with memories of her. Judging by her determined focus, I can tell Katniss' mother is coping the same way.
After a few short hours of sleep, I hunt with whoever is willing and able. Out of habit, I check my old snare line. It's mostly rotted carcasses, but a few catches are fresh enough to eat. I reset the snares. Others fish. We bring the food to Greasy Sae, who's made several spits in the ground between the woods and the lake. It's not nearly enough food, and we're down to just one paltry meal a day. But seeing how most of us are from the Seam, we're used to hunger. We manage.
By the third day, people start mumbling. Maybe the Capitol isn't coming back. Maybe it's safe. Maybe there are survivors, people who need our help. Maybe there are provisions that can be salvaged...
While I'm not entirely convinced of the first, second or even the last points, I agree to be part of a small team to return home, check things out. There's also Thom, a few other guys from the mines. Rory, because he's the only one who can handle the other bow. And Katniss' mother and sister, in case there are wounded to treat. At dawn, we begin the long journey through the woods back to District 12.
As we approach the fence, I get a familiar feeling. Alert, but uneasy. A warning, usually. Then I hear it. Hovercraft. We hide in the sparse shadows of the trees and brush. I try not to think of that long ago day, with the boy who was speared and the red-headed girl mouthing help me. I do anyway.
Two hovercraft land in the Meadow. They're much, much larger than the Capitol's bombers, and there's no identifying seal. Men in stark gray uniforms disembark, guns raised. Soldiers, definitely.
"Peacekeepers?" Thom whispers. I can only shrug. They don't look like any Peacekeepers I've ever seen. But who knows? Maybe the Capitol has sent a special unit to track us down. Make sure we've been annihilated.
The soldiers fan out, moving slowly toward what remains of the Seam. Except one unit, who face our direction. Their point man peers into the woods, through the haze that still hangs in the air. We press back deeper into the shadows, but it's too late. He sees us.
Instantly, my bow is drawn, arrow strung tight. If I'm going down, I'll take at least two of them with me. The man signals with his arm. He and his crew lower their weapons. He takes a tentative step forward.
"Survivors of District 12?" he starts, uncertain. He sees me, specifically. "We're here to rescue you, so if you'd kindly not shoot me with that bow and arrow, I'd really appreciate it."
"Who are you?" My bow is still raised.
"I'm Hart. We're from District 13." A shocked, confused gasp from our little group. District 13 hasn't existed for 75 years. "Yeah, I know," he continues. "Rumors of our demise have been greatly exaggerated. District 13 is alive and well and here to help. Now that that's cleared up, can we get this evacuation started or what?"