Lost and Found, Chapter 2 by patricia51

(Survival)

"You're dead." The face above me doesn't change, doesn't disappear. I try to reason with her. Maybe if I explain it again she'll understand and let me wake up. "Madge, you're dead."

Instead of vanishing the apparition leans forward and brushed her lips over mine. To belong to a ghost these lips are awfully warm and soft and sweet. Confused, I consider that. If this is a nightmare than why is something so nice happening to me? Could I possibly be awake? Could she really be here? While I consider all that something totally unexpected happens

"Ouch! Madge did you just pinch me?"

She smiles and the familiar soft silvery laugh fills the room and for the first time in a very long time I feel like smiling myself.

"I had to show you that you weren't still asleep." She pretended to pout. "A kiss certainly didn't seem to work so I had to try something else."

Maybe this IS real.

"I thought you were dead." I tell her.

"Until recently I thought you were dead too," Madge replies.

"I saw the cleanup crew at your house," I insist. "They were taking bodies out."

Her face saddens. "I know. But I wasn't there."

"How?"

Madge's eyes look away, focusing on some place she can only see in her mind.

"The night before the bombing they came for me."

"Who?"

"The Peacekeepers. Thread was leading them." I nod. It would certainly ne like him to make sure he was present for the arrest of a lovely young woman. But of course he would also be required to be present for taking the Mayor's daughter.

"When the Peacekeepers crashed through the door my father demanded they leave. He stood up to them, demanding to be told what was going on and reminding them of his position. It did nothing but I was proud of him. Thread simply grabbed me and had two of his men drag me away, right over my father who tried to stand in their way. They bundled me into a hovercraft and I was on my way to the Capitol."

Now that I knew I was awake and she actually was here I struggled to at least sit up without disturbing Madge's arms around me. Now that I knew they were real I liked them. It was then I saw the scars on those arms running up under the long sleeves of her blouse. I saw burn marks on her neck and another scar on her face that ran from her hairline down her jawbone to her chin and then to her throat.

"My God Madge," I whispered. "What did they do to you?"

She shrugged. "The charge was treason. They knew we were friends and by that time they were desperate to find you."

"But they knew that I, that all of the victors who had escaped from the arena, were in District Thirteen," I protest. "And how would you know anything, even that?"

Madge shrugged. "I think so much of what the Capitol did, or rather what the people behind the scenes who controlled the place did, was hidden. Even from each other. Things were so secret that the people who arrested me, who questioned me, may not have even had any idea that President Snow and some of his advisors and others knew exactly where you were. On the other hand they may well have known and didn't care. You know that much of what they did; to Peeta, to Johanna Mason, to the Avoxs was meant to intimidate the rebels. 'See what happens to you when you commit treason' type stuff meant to make people afraid."

I nodded agreement. Of course so much of what the Capitol did was exactly that; actions meant to humiliate and strike fear into the people of the districts. Just like the Hunger Games themselves. And some was aimed at specific targets.

I didn't know that I had spoken any of those thoughts out loud until Madge tightened her hold on me and replied.

"Yes, especially you."

Oh God. Guilt floods back all over again, guilt that the sight and of feel of my friend had pushed back just for a little bit.

"It was because of me," I say.

"No Katniss it was NOT because of you." Madge is almost fierce in her determination to make me see her point. But she always has been determined. And strong. Whatever they did to her hasn't changed her. Rather I think it's just made her stronger. How amazing. "Kat when someone points a weapon at you it's not your fault that they are trying to rob you. You don't cause that. It's because of the robber's greed. What was done to Peeta, to the Avoxs, was done to hurt you yes but because greedy selfish and even yes evil people cling to power doesn't cast any guilt on you."

She relaxes her hold on me slightly. At first I think she's going to pull away but before I can even think to protest I realize it's just so she can touch my face with her hand.

"As for me, don't be silly. You had no idea about me at all. How could that be something aimed at you? As for them trying to find out from me where you were, even the interrogators knew the idea was ridiculous. The majority of the time I was left alone and even when I was questioned they were floundering. They'd do dumb things. One time a new interrogator who may have known more than the others yelled at me 'We know she's in District Thirteen. Where is she? I mean he just answered his own question. I honestly don't think they believed I knew anything. In fact I suspect sometimes that Thread may have heard a whisper about the bombing and used my arrest as an excuse to leave the District. He certainly had enough of his cronies on board, more than were needed to guard one lone girl. So often I thought the questioning was random because they had no real clue of anything to ask me."

"But," I struggle with this because I have no desire to stir up memories but I need to ask. It's my turn to reach up and lay a fingertip on the long scar on her face. "But they didn't always just ask."

Madge covers my hand with hers and leans her face against my palm. "No," she replies, "there were times when they didn't ask anything. They just did things."

It's obvious that we are going to leave it at that. I certainly am not going to ask what they used on her. I shiver though at the idea of what could have caused those marks on her, what she must have gone through. And yet she is still Madge. My friend. Her eyes hold mine steadily and there are memories of pain and fear there but underneath them is the steady quiet strength she always has had.

"Kat?"

It's funny. I don't think anyone has ever shortened my name like that. And from anyone else I would bring them up short. But I like it when Madge calls me that. Once again I feel a little thawing deep in my soul.

"Kat?" she repeats.

"Yes?"

"It's over. It's done. Memories will follow me all my life but for right now there is something I need to ask you that is much more urgent, especially with you so close."

For a moment I'm still. What could she want to ask? Is it some kind of declaration? What? Then I see the twinkle in her eyes.

"Are you aware Katniss my dear sweet friend of exactly how bad you smell?"

(To be Continued)