The Mute and Silenced

Part 2

Over the next two years, Lavinia watches the Games carefully. She finds it funny, in a way, that no one has thought of this before, that Games provide vital information on how to survive outside of the Capitol.

She is not completely sure when she first thought of the idea, only that when she did, it made complete sense to her. She does not think she can stand another day in this place, watching children kill children each year, being surrounded by people so sick they would actually cheer them on, and expected to do the same.

But after thoroughly planning, she realizes just how crazy this all is. Running away from the Capitol? What are the chances of her actually making it? And even if she did somehow escape the city, then what? Where would she go?

In the forest, her mind supplies. Or in the Districts. She knows enough from the past Games about which plants are edible and how to find water. And, unlike the Games, she didn't have to worry about other tributes; it will only be her out in the forest.

Then what?

She honestly did not know. It is obvious that if she stays, she will survive longer than if she runs away. But is it really worth the lavish food and entertainment the Capitol provides, the clothes and jewels?

She thinks so.

What would her parents think of her?

She tries to imagine what her mother and father would say to this. Her mother would most likely tell her how absolutely silly this all was, throwing away all this luxury for nothing. And her father… She has never seen her father lose his temper before, and she doesn't ever want to.

And what about Mace?

He would have to stay here with their parents, watching the Games every year, living in the luxury of the Capitol. She has a feeling that Mace doesn't particularly enjoy the Games either, but would he approve of running away?

Either way, he is much too young to do this kind of thing. She will go alone, and, assuming her plan succeeds, from here on out she will always be alone.

Three months before her sixteenth birthday, she starts preparing.

Lavinia pads quietly to the door, feet placed on just the right tiles that won't creak under her weight. She doesn't bring anything along with her, just the clothes on her back and just enough money in her pocket to hail a taxi to the edge of the city. Her mother is upstairs sleeping—or at least, she thinks she is. She hasn't seen her since dinner ended.

It is one hour until midnight. By now, Mace is asleep in the room right next to hers. Hopefully, he didn't hear her come out of her room. She wonders who will be the first person to find that her bed is empty. It will most likely be Mace, when he discovers that she hasn't appeared at breakfast, or her mother, maybe, when she finds that her bedroom door is slightly ajar. And by then, she would be long gone, somewhere in the forest where no one can find her.

It is completely dark now, and she can just barely make out dinner table to the right of her and the television in front of her. Lavinia steps around it just in time to not run into it. She is thankful for the moonlight that reflects against the sleek black screen of the television, for without it, she doubts she would have noticed that it was there. The door is fifteen feet, ten feet away from her. Within five seconds she can escape through that door, and then she would be free to go where ever she wants, and she won't ever have to come back here again—

The bathroom door at the top of the stairs opens, and a figure steps out. Lavinia stiffens, praying that her brother won't see her. How could she have not noticed him? Mentally, she scolds herself for being so careless. She has half a mind to duck behind the television, but then he'd see her move. She can stay still, so still that he won't know—it's dark anyways, and he can't see much of anything right now.

"Lavinia?"

Too late.

"Lavinia, what are doing down there?" he says.

"Nothing" is at the tip of her tongue, but she knows he won't believe her. Instead, she hisses, "Lower your voice."

He climbs down the stairs, and joins her at the television. "What are doing here?" he whispers.

She thinks of an excuse. "I'm…just going for a walk. I'll be right back."

"It's eleven." His tone is doubtful.

"I'm…I'm just going somewhere."

"Where?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can I go with you?"he asks hopefully.

"No!"

"I'll scream."

"Don't."

"I won't if you let me go with you. It's to a party, isn't it?"

Lavinia glances up at her mother's room. Thankfully, it is closed, which means that it is unlikely she has heard them. "Just…just follow me, alright? And be quiet."

He nods once and trails after her as she exits the door. Once they are outside, he asks again, "Where are we going?"

She hesitates. "I'm going…away."

"Away where?"

"To…to…outside of the Capitol."

"You're running away," he says accusingly.

"...I am," she says. She says it softly, even though she knows that no one else can hear her; the city is bustling with noise.

He hesitates. His mouth is slightly open, as if debating on his answer. Finally, he smiles, his decision made.

"I'm still going with you."

The forest is so much like the arenas she had seen on television, eerily so. Any second now she expects a knife-wielding teen to charge at her, or a mutt to suddenly appear in front of her.

But this isn't the Games, she reminds herself. This is real.

But she looks over her shoulder often for another reason, one that is much more likely to happen.

The Capitol.

They might be looking for her—in fact, they might know where she is at this moment. She is almost positive that escaping from the Capitol is against the law.

If they do know where she is, then she and Mace will have to return to the Capitol.

Lavinia has to nearly force herself to stare ahead instead of to the back, because worrying will get her nowhere.

"How far do we have to go?" Mace whines from behind her. "Can't we stop and rest for a while?"

She pauses. Taking a break can't hurt; besides, she is feeling a bit tired as well. "All right, we'll stop. Stay here; I'll try to find something to eat."

"How would you know if something's safe to eat?" He challenges her. "For all you know, you could bring back something poisonous that could kill the both of us!"

"I'll know," she replies. "from the Games."

She leaves shortly after that, after instructing Mace to a tree that he is not, under any circumstances, to leave. She doesn't stray far from the tree, not daring to walk further than a few meters of it. To her relief, within a few minutes, she finds a berry bush whose berries she is almost positive are harmless. After examining it carefully, she concludes that the berries are exactly the same as the ones a tribute had eaten—and didn't die from—during the last Games.

She bites into the skin of the fruit, chewing it hastily and swallowing it. Nothing happens—no excruciating pain, no nausea. Once she confirms that the berries are safe, she greedily picks as many berries as she can fit into the palm of her hand, and walking carefully as to not spill any of the fruit, calls to Mace.

"Are you sure it's not poisonous?" he asks, eyeing the berries suspiciously.

"It's the same as the ones a tribute ate last year," she says. "And I just ate one. I'm not dead, am I?"

He hesitantly nods. "Okay."

He picks up a berry but its stem, as if touching the skin of the fruit would cause his skin to break out in rashes. He pops it into his mouth quickly and chews. "Well? How is it?" she asks.

Mace doesn't answer, just hastily takes another and swallows that one as well. Mere seconds after, he reaches for another.

Lavinia laughs, the first time she had laughed all day, and says, "I'll go get some more."

It takes the Capitol less than fifty hours to find them.

They come early in the morning, before she is even awake. Mace is the first one to spot the hovercraft in the distance.

"Lavinia," he hisses under his breath, shaking her in an attempt to wake her up.

For a few seconds she is unresponsive, and by that time, the hovercraft is close by. He shakes her harder. "Lavinia!" he says, louder this time.

The first thing she registers is that her brother is shaking her awake, and that he is calling her name. Her real name, at that. He used to call her "Vinnie" when he was younger, she drowsily remembers, before he deemed it too childish and embarrassing.

The second thing she notices as she opens her eyes are the green leaves above her head, and the moss at her fingertips—things that never appeared in the Capitol. Then she remembers. Fully remembers why she is here.

"It's too early to wake up," she mumbles to Mace, turning her face slightly to look at him. "It's barely morning, and besides, it's not like we have anything to do today."

"They're here," he says. "The Capitol." He points to the bright light in the distance, slowly but steadily making its way to them.

At this, she jumps to her feet. "But…how?" The second it leaves her lips, she realizes the answer. It is so obvious. Someone must have seen her walk out, and they have the technology to track them down. "We need to run," she says, already backing away.

He nods, and they both start running as fast as they can. She knows it's futile—even if she were as fast as the Career tributes, no human being could outrun a hovercraft—but it would be even more pathetic of her to stand still and wait for the Capitol to collect them.

She is out of breath soon enough, her legs already sore and her chest hurting, but she doesn't stop. Mace is behind her, but not too far behind. She looks behind her. The hovercraft is close enough for her to see the Capitol emblem at its side, close enough to see its tinted windows and claws. She runs even faster, yelling at Mace to do the same.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees two children—a brother and sister, from the looks of it—are huddled under a bush. From their poor clothing, she guesses that they are from the poorer districts, perhaps Eleven or Twelve. She shouts for them—to help, to save them, even though they are District children who can't do anything, and probably despise them for taking their friends and siblings.

The girl looks at her with fearful eyes, and shifts herself so she is completely concealed from the hovercraft.

Lavinia can feel the hot breath of the hovercraft, the wind it creates as it glides over her. They are directly above her now. She knows it's worthless, but she runs even faster. Maybe if she reaches the Districts first…

"Vinnie!"

She looks up just in time to see a spear—so much like the ones provided in the Cornucopia—aimed her way, and she flinches and shields her head with her arms. It doesn't hit her. She breathes a sigh of relief, thankful, until she looks behind her and sees Mace, bleeding, with a spear embedded in his chest.

He is dead and she knows it—she knows too well from the twenty-three deaths that appear on television each year—but that doesn't stop her from screaming for him to stand up and keep running.

A claw extends from the hovercraft and lifts his body from the ground.

"Mace!" she screams, before her throat closes up. His name is the last word that falls from her lips.

Later, when they lead her to a room to cut off her tongue, she doesn't mind. Either way, she doesn't think she would have spoken another word.

She can never really escape the Capitol. It is there, whether in the form of a hovercraft or a cut tongue.

No one can in this world.

She soon learns that life as an Avox isn't all that hard. Sure, Avoxes were required to serve food and clean up after Capitol residents, but this position was intended to be shameful form of punishment.

She is one of the Avoxes responsible for cleaning after tributes, and keeping the training center tidy. The other Avoxes never met the eyes of the tributes, so she did the same, bowing her head low at the sight of others.

Two years later, she sees that girl again, the one who was in the forest all those years ago. Her name is Katniss Everdeen, and she volunteered to take the place of her younger sister. She is also from District 12, where there hasn't been a volunteer in years.

So when she sees Katniss Everdeen sitting at the table along with her district mentor and partner, she ducks her head even lower. Katniss Everdeen seems to recognize her as well. "I know you," she says at the start of dinner.

It takes her a couple of seconds to realize that who she is talking to, and when she looks up, she finds the girl to be staring straight at her. Immediately, her eyes widen and her eyes drop to the floor once again.

The Escort scolds her. "Katniss! Avoxes are not allowed to be talked to, under any circumstances." She looks partly embarrassed and partly puzzled, and she finds out why in her following question. "Where did you see this Avox?"

The girl doesn't speak. Her blond district partner answers for her. "Delly Cartwright," he says. "That must be why she seems so familiar."

Katniss nods at this, seemingly agreeing to this explanation. The Escort doesn't look completely convinced, but she doesn't question the girl any further.

The Districts are in a state of unrest.

Caesar Flickerman doesn't speak of it, and neither do any newspapers or television broadcasts. Knowledge of this is banned in the Capitol; but even so, one can tell if they look closely enough.

Fire girl and her District partner had just won the Games a week earlier. This was unheard of; there had never been two victors before, much less two lovers. Nevertheless, the Capitol is joyful for both their victories.

But on their Victory Tour, there is an unusual increase in the number of Peacekeepers in the crowd.

There is a new Avox the following year. He is around the same age as her, and she likes to think that he looks like her also, with his red hair. She wonders what he did to end up like this: from running away like her, or somehow defying the Capitol in such a way that was serious enough to have his tongue cut but not executed.

Do you regret doing whatever you did? She wants to ask him. Being an Avox is far from ideal, and if she had just stayed at the Capitol, she wouldn't have to act as a housekeeper and she would still be able to speak. She would be able to sleep in a comfortable bed each night, and wake up late in the mornings. And spend a month each year watching teenagers her age turn into savages.

She doesn't know about him, but she doesn't regret it the least.

He gives her a grim, but knowing, smile the first they meet. Just like that, he tells her of how similar the two of them are; they are both in the same position, after all.

She doesn't wonder what his name is, or attempt to think of a name that would suit him best. Names don't matter much when one's an Avox.

That is also the year that Fire girl and her lover return to the Capitol for the Third Quarter Quell. In fact, many victors return to the Capitol, but this time, it's not to mentor. It's to compete.

The citizens of the Capitol are absolutely miserable. To see the victors they have gushed over and admired be sent to their (potential) deaths-to them it is unbearable. There had been talk about protesting or somehow convincing Snow to change the rules, but Snow was, unsurprisingly enough, unwilling to. So the people of the Capitol tearfully watch their dear victors parade through the streets and speak of the hospitality they had been so graciously offered during their many years at the Capitol.

At the end of the interviews, the victors-all twenty-four of them-stand side by side, holding hands.

The action both intrigues and confuses her. Tomorrow, at the arena, were they not going to fight? Were they, perhaps, defying Snow and the Capitol? She can see Fire girl do that, and maybe Chaff or Johanna, but not the rest, especially not the Career tributes.

When the gong sounds early the next day, all that happened the day before is forgotten.

What the others don't know is that a millisecond before the television blacks out and the Games ended, unfinished, there were hovercrafts in the sky. Hovercrafts, plural. Two of them.

One was from the Capitol. It wasn't very clear as to what they were doing; with their giant claws, the hovercraft carried in tributes-tributes that were, most certainly, alive.

And the other hovercraft, she swore, belonged to District Thirteen.

...

She and the new Avox are led down a hallway. Peacekeepers are at their sides; two stand at her sides, one in front of her, and one to the back, all four armed with guns. From the way their fingers grip where the trigger is, she knows that one wrong move would result in a bullet to her heart or head.

They are most likely in a prison; it's hard to tell, because of the dim lights. When she turns a corner, she hears someone-a woman, most likely-scream and curse, then fall silent. She slows down a bit, but then her steps quicken when she feels the Peacekeeper behind her press the muzzle of the gun to her back.

And she wonders-is this because of the Games that were cut short?

She turns to the other Avox. The two of them speak in gestures and exaggerated facial expressions, the language of the silenced. She has been an Avox for long enough to communicate without words, and long enough to understand ones like her.

She juts her chin to the hallway in front of her and gives him a confused look. Where are we going?

A shrug. I don't know.

What do you think they're going to do?

Nothing good, that's for sure.

After minutes of walking, they finally stop. Where they are is just a bit brighter than the rest of the hallway, though not by much. If she stuck her hand in front of her face, she doubts that she would be able to see it clearly, just the outline of it. Wondering why they have stopped here, she looks up.

And there stands her father.

He looks exactly the same as before—even younger than she remembers—even though she hasn't seen him in years. She hates to admit it, but this might have been what Mace might look like at if he were still here: pale skin, chestnut hair.

"Lavinia," he says casually, like this were a mere social visit."How's life treating you?"

She stares evenly back at him.

"Ah, I forgot. You can't speak," he says. Something akin to a sneer slides on his face, and it makes her want to duck her head and stare shamefully at the floor, but she doesn't. "You're an Avox, a criminal to the Capitol."

He pauses, as if waiting for her to say, do something, before the sneer slips off his face, an expression void of emotion replacing it. "What do you know about the rebellion?"

The rebellion?

For the first time, she notices a blond boy slumped in a nearby cell, back pressed against the wall. He watches her from the corner of his eyes, as if afraid of what is to come. She recognizes him.

A victor. Peeta Mellark.

Mentally, she puts the pieces together. The uprisings. The uncompleted Games. The joining hands of the past victors, the day before they enter the arena. A rebellion against the Capitol, she presumes. The two hovercrafts. And a victor, a living, breathing victor, kept in a prison cell.

There is a rebellion, someone somewhere planning to overthrow the Capitol. And Fire Girl is with them.

She wonders if Peeta Mellark is a rebel, and what they will do to him. Kill him, eventually, after squeezing out all the information they can out of him. But if Fire Girl is quick enough, he can be saved. And he'll be safe. Somewhere.

At this realization, she is no longer afraid, no longer tensed because of what will come. She stands up straight, and glares, defiantly, at her father, if she can still call him that. Beside her, she hears the other Avox do the same.

They know: the Capitol has already lost.

With each passing second, the rebels are one step closer to defeating the Capitol; one step closer building a new country, one that doesn't use children as sacrifices.

She doesn't know much about life before Panem, but she's sure that it was a place where people were happy and had a chance to live until adulthood. She's sure that place can be recreated, starting from now.

Lavinia doesn't feel the electric current running through her body; it's much too quick. All she knows is that through the dark gray walls of the prisons, the Capitol is weakening, little by little, and that soon, it will all be reduced to rubble.

And perhaps for the first time, she is truly free.