Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, as I've stated before!
Chapter 2! Please R&R, as always.
WARNINGS: this chapter contains angsty Gale and may contain some inconsistencies with the plot of Mockingjay, which I apologize for in advance.
Gale's POV
The picture is hazy, not the usual clear, static-free transmission that is reserved for the Games. Dirt and dust flies across the screen and the voices coming out of the speakers are distorted and crackling. The little sky that I can see is illuminated by glowing fireworks, but the real fireworks are happening on the ground.
The earth explodes around Katniss, whose entire face suddenly fills the screen. I'm seized with a fierce hatred for the Gamekeepers. To them, this must be a twisted sort of irony. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, about to meet her gruesome end beneath a sky of burning firecrackers. My fists are clenched.
Dirt continues to burst out of the ground, and then a miracle occurs. A metal claw descends from the sky and retrieves Katniss's body, but she isn't lying limp and motionless – she's kicking and screaming, the same feisty, defiant Katniss Everdeen that I know and love. She's alive.
I don't have much time to celebrate. The electricity suddenly shorts out. Silence settles over the Seam. And then, my finely tuned hunters ears hear something that will be silent to the others in District 12 – the low, buzzing drone of hoverplanes.
I don't remember much of what happened after that. All I remember is leaping to my feet, screaming at my family to run, and then racing towards the Victor's Village with all the speed I could muster. I know that I got my family, Prim, Mrs. Everdeen and that scrawny old cat out of the Seam and brought them to the Meadow, along with the others who had swarmed the streets. I don't remember deciding where to go. It was just a reflex.
Now, as I cast my gaze over the lake where Katniss used to come with her father, I offer a silent apology to my friend.
I'm sorry, Catnip. We had nowhere else to go.
The entire area is filled with the people of District 12. Some of them are physically fine, if a little shaken. Others sport cuts, scrapes and bruises, but nothing too serious. Only a few are given the privilege of having their injuries tended to, because obviously, medical supplies are scarce. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are doing everything they can to help, but it isn't enough. I raise a hand to the singed spot on my cheek and glare at my injured arm. Although I know that I should at least have my arm checked out, I don't want to divert attention from those who truly need help. Instead, I busy myself with arranging the hunting supplies.
There are over eight hundred people here and all I have is a fishing net, a hunting knife and two sets of bows and arrows. My heart twinges as I look at them. If Katniss were here, we would be set. Her keen eye and shooting skills could keep us all in game for weeks.
But Katniss isn't here, and I can't hunt alone. I gather a few of the most promising teenagers from the Seam, along with my brother Rory. He has always been eager for me to teach him how to hunt, although I was reluctant. Katniss used to say that he would be perfect with a bow and arrow. I decide that now is the time to test that theory, and hand him one of the precious bows. He accepts it with a stern nod.
I divide the volunteers into two groups. One group takes the fishing net, while the other – comprised of the more brutish volunteers – takes the hunting knife. Shouldering the other bow and arrow, I motion for Rory to follow me. We creep through the woods, and before long, Rory has lived up to Katniss's expectations. Using only three arrows, he has managed to kill two wild hares and injure another. His face is flushed with pleasure.
After a while we return to the camp to convene with the other hunting parties. Between us, we have managed to catch some hares, a net of fish and a few foxes. If it were any other hunt, I would be pleased, but this isn't enough to feed all of the survivors.
Prim sidles up to me, holding her skirt up awkwardly. I raise an eyebrow and she tips it forward slightly, revealing the berries nestled in the fabric. Together, we bring the berries and the game to a group of women who are well known as good cooks in the Seam. They promise to stretch the food as far as they can and send us on our way.
I sit by the lakeside and close my eyes. I can still smell the smoke, still hear the screams of those who weren't lucky enough to escape the flames. I know that some of them managed to find their way to us, once the bombs had stopped dropping. But it's doubtful whether they will even survive.
I'm finding it difficult to breathe. My entire chest feels constricted. I'm concentrating on deep, soothing breaths when a hand touches my arm. Instinctively, I flinch away, and then look up to find Prim looking down on me with worry in her eyes.
"Oh," I say. "Prim. Hello." I will never admit it to anyone, but these days, I can't look at Prim without wanting to burst into tears. She may not share Katniss's olive skin, dark hair or grey eyes, but there is something about her that just screams KATNISS at me. It could be her stubborn Everdeen spirit, or the determination that she displays on a regular basis. Whatever it is, as Prim gets older, it becomes more and more evident.
And Prim is looking a lot older these days.
She sits beside me and scolds me about my injuries, insisting that I go and get them treated. I try to argue with her, but in the end, I just can't do it. I do as she says and head to Mrs. Everdeen's little medical centre. Katniss and Prim's mother looks even more exhausted than I feel. She must be out of her mind with worry over Katniss, but she still offers me a smile as I approach.
She applies a healing salve to the burn on my cheek, which stings like all hell but is guaranteed to prevent scarring. My arm is a little more difficult to deal with. It isn't broken, but it is badly sprained. Mrs. Everdeen fashions a sling out of an old handkerchief and then apologizes, because that is the best she can do. I insist that it's more than enough, although by the time we settle down to sleep that night, the pain has become almost unbearable.
The next few days carry on in much the same fashion – I hunt with Rory, we try to boost morale, we pray that we will be saved. And then on the third day of our stay by the lake, a hovercraft appears.
My first instinct is to run. What if it is the Capitol, returned to clear out the only survivors? However, the hovercraft is devoid of the usual Capitol seal, and instead of dropping bombs on our makeshift camp, it lands in the Meadow. The door opens and Plutarch Heavensbee walks out, causing my jaw to drop. I reach unconsciously for my bow and arrow, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
"People of District 12," he says, casting his gaze around the area. "We mean you no harm. We wish to congratulate you on your bravery and resourcefulness, and offer you refuge in the area of District 13."
District 13? Murmurs begin to shoot through the air. I grit my teeth. There is no District 13. It was destroyed a long time ago.
Sensing our hesitation, Plutarch reaches into his pocket. I tense, waiting for him to reveal a gun, or a knife. Instead, he pulls out a simple pocketwatch. He flips it open and holds it up to the sunlight. A golden symbol appears on the clock face, prompting a collective gasp among the crowd. A mockingjay. The symbol of the rebellion.
That's all it takes to convince us. We file onto the hovercraft, one by one, and once everyone is safely on board, Plutarch gives orders to depart. I watch from the window as we rush away from the smouldering remains of District 12, the Seam, the only home I ever knew – and I hope with all of my heart that we have made the right choice.
Yay for Chapter Two! I really like this chapter, but it doesn't matter if I like it, it matters if YOU like it! :) Oh, and I wanna say a massive thank you to JezTheMockingjay74, who has commented on every single one of my Hunger Games fics so far. Thank you so much. You get a virtual cookie ^_^ Anyway, the next chapter will be in Prim's POV.