Future of a Journey

Sassafras "Sassy" Hemlocke, District One, Victor of the 384th Hunger Games

"MOM! Mom, the phone is ringing! MOM!"

"Yes, Sage, I know, I'm coming…" I hurried into the living room―these phones only gave you five rings before it would go to voicemail, and if someone was actually calling to contact me, well, it had to be important.

My daughter was sitting on the couch, re-watching the latest Games with her trusty sword by her side, probably ready enough to kill anyone who came in uninvited. I scooped up the phone and walked out into one of the side rooms. "Hello?"

"Hello," the person on the other line echoed. "This is Head Gamemaker Flame; is Sassy home?"

"This is her," I replied, wondering why the Head Gamemaker would take time out of her busy schedule for me.

"Ah, great… how have you been?" I was surprised to hear her voice shaking, like she was nervous, and wondered if I should've asked if something was wrong. But, no, I didn't want to be intrusive.

"Fine, fine… excellent, even! And yourself?"

"Fine, thanks." There was a bit of dead air for a few moments, and then, "Ah, I called with a question―I was wondering if you'd be able to come out to the Capitol on Sunday." Unless something had recently impaired my hearing abilities, that didn't sound much like a question. More like a command, and I couldn't help but be curious about it. After all, this was the Head Gamemaker I was talking to!

"Of course," I said, my tone sounding even more polite than usual. "I'd consider it an honor! But could I ask why?"

"That might have to wait for the actual meeting―I mean, it's not something I can really talk about over the phone, but that's part of the reason why I called. There's going to be a meeting of a few victors, including Kizzy―Ericssen―I'm sure you're familiar with the name?"

That sounded like a question, so I answered, "Yes, of course; my daughter, Sage, was very fascinated by the latest Games… re-watching them right now actually, I think."

"Glad to hear they were intriguing." More silence. "Going back to the meeting… I'll be sending a hovercraft to the District One landing station Sunday morning. Could you be there at, say, ten?"

"In the morning? Yes, I'd say so. Could you tell me how long I'll be in the Capitol for?"

"Just a few hours, you can go home Sunday night." That was good, then; I wouldn't be away from home for too long. But I did worry about what it was I was about to get involved in that the Head Gamemaker, of all people, couldn't even mention on a phone. "Just be ready on Sunday."

"I will be! Thanks for calling."

"I'll see you there." The phone clicked off.

I headed back into the living room. "Who was that?" Sage demanded as soon as I walked in. Such a curious girl.

Admittedly, I froze up for just a split second. How much could I tell her―and my husband, Coarse, who'd just come in? Of course, they'd have to know that I was going to the Capitol. Then again, Flame hadn't mentioned that I couldn't say anything. But it had been implied... "The Head Gamemaker," I ended up answering. "I have some business in the Capitol to take care of on Sunday; but I'm not sure what it's really all about." Honest enough.

"Well, that's sorta stupid," Sage put in. "Why would she expect you to just go without knowing what you were doing? Might not be anything in it for you."

"She's the Head Gamemaker, Sage; she can do whatever she wants."

Coarse disappeared into another room, and Sage asked, "What's for dinner?" I was glad for the change in subject.

"We're going to the dinner at the mayor's house tonight, remember?" Sage groaned and I glanced out the window to see that the sun was just starting to set, indicating that it was getting close to the time we'd have to leave. All of the victors from District One and their families had been invited, along with some Peacekeepers and educators, others high up in One's industry. It was supposed to be in celebration of the mayor's school renovation plans. "Do you want me to pick out something for you to wear?"

"Fine. But I am not wearing a dress. Or a skirt. Just… no." She was going through a tomboy phase.

"I'll make sure it's not," I answered, going off to her room to find something suitable for her to wear. I found a presentable set of black dress pants and a blue blouse, and laid them out on her bed before going downstairs and telling her it was about time to get ready. She went upstairs without saying anything, scowling.

. . . . .

"Sassy, dear, it's been forever!" exclaimed Anita, giving me the same greeting and one of her infamous "welcome hugs" that I got every time I saw her. "How are you?"

"Wonderful," I told her, smiling. The dinner had quickly forced the ominous phone call out of my mind. "And how are you? And the baby?" I was surprised her newborn wasn't anywhere to be seen―generally higher-up people in the district, like the mayor's wife, enjoyed showing off their children. Then again, I was among them, but I usually lost track of Sage pretty quickly once we reached any official events.

"Excellent, excellent! Gabriel just seems to be growing so fast, and already!"

"I know," I agreed, scanning the crowd for Sage. "They grow up on you, don't they?"

"Oh, yes. It happened with Madilynn, already starting school on us."

I nodded again. "Speaking of which, I really should be tracking down my own family. Nice seeing you again―we really have to talk more."

After a bit of agreement I managed to slip away, feeling a bit bad that I'd lied about my reasons. What I really wanted to do was find some other victors and ask them if they'd gotten a call like I had. But I couldn't quite figure out how. Hey, have you heard from the Head Gamemaker lately? just sounded a bit too suspicious.

A burst of laughter came from a table nearby, followed by several chinks of glasses.

I kept moving through the chatting crowd, occasionally stopping to say hello to this person or that. Finally I managed to find Drystan, one of the other victors on the slightly older side. I liked to think that we were fair enough friends. He rambled for a while about how lovely the school renovations were going to be. "But of course," I agreed, and when the laughter died down, I gathered up my nerve and said, "You haven't heard anything of Lavender Flame lately, have you?"

"The new Head Gamemaker? Nah, can't say I have, except her name's splattered all over everything nowadays, especially since the cameras are finally off Kizzy."

"True that," I said.

"… Why?" There was definitely a confused look on his face and something off in his tone.

"No reason; just curious is all."

He didn't seem convinced, and I didn't blame him. Not one tiny bit.

. . . . .

Trey Dracco, District Three, Victor of the 393rd Hunger Games

Everyone in the district just thought I was so nice. Oh, how kind of me to take in this tragically orphaned boy with no future, oh what a great victor I was, oh oh oh―come on. Give me a break.

Yeah, to clear up those rumors, the "tragically orphaned boy" had a name―Saber―and was a ruthless killer… and so was I. It wasn't like I didn't know the kid, but it didn't mean that I pitied him. I'd lost room for pity a long time ago, before the Games, before even leaving Fourteen.

So I thought it was just the most hilarious thing when the Head Gamemaker decided that she trusted me and wanted my help all of a sudden. 'Cause I had a bad feeling of what it was she wanted help with, and believe me, I was the best person for it, but not on the right side. I was the best person to help Fourteen, you know, being from there and all. But to help the Capitol? Pfft; I wouldn't actually do it in a million years.

But I could lie. I could convince them I was the most loyal person they had, just so the betrayal would be greater later.

Ha; the joke would be on them

"There!" I pointed at the screen wildly. "You see that? No, you didn't, now pause it. See, there you go. Right there. Watch the girl on the left. Play it again, slow."

The tape of the ending of the latest Games started up again, showing two of the tributes in the final battle. From, where? Ten and Twelve? Nine―wait, no, that was the crazy girl. Eleven and Ten, then?

"Watch. See the way she sort of ducks back, just right―there! That's what you have to do, work on your movement technique more than weapon skills."

"I would be watching if you would stop talking," Saber said through gritted teeth, still staring at the screen.

"You say that now, boy, you tell me that once you win."

Sometimes even I thought it was stupid that Fourteen was putting both of us through the Games. At least that other guy in Seven hadn't been of Reaping age when he was recruited! Unfortunately his daughter eventually was, but that was a different story altogether.

Enter the arena, learn the way it works, inside and out, pass it on. That's what I was supposed to do, and what I did.

So of course I'd spread the information to everyone involved with Fourteen that I could. The Head Gamemaker was planning something, and she probably wasn't alone. I'd bet that at least the President also knew, possibly other officials or even the rest of the Gamemaking panel. If they were dumb enough to try and attack Fourteen, fine, let them, and let them just run themselves into the ground. We had warning then, and we beat the Capitol any day. Small but mighty; the smallest and least known district, maybe, but we could take anyone, anytime and anywhere.

I was snapped back to the present when Saber said, "But that was a dumb move."

"What?"

"She just ran off."

"Who did? You crazy?"

"What's-her-name from Ten ran away from a fight."

Oh. Right. The Games that Saber was re-watching. I looked at the battle. Sure enough, Ten had moved on.

"Eh, she's dead now anyways. Give it a few months, no one will remember those Games." Part of me doubted that. Not that I was big on seeing children slaughtering each other, but those four days were really somethin'. Record-setting and the works, certainly a memorable cast.

"You keep watching, take some notes." Saber nodded, not really looking up, and I walked out. I needed a way to get information to the others. Someone who could actually get it back to Fourteen. But how? Communication was actually scarce―basic instructions and the names of who you could "trust" before you left, and then almost nothing. There weren't many contacts here in Three―but we did have a way of getting messages through the system.

"BREAKING NEWS." The words came from the television, along with a jingle that indicated a District Three broadcast, not even one from the Capitol. "Mayor Gage Perolla has officially dropped out of the upcoming mayoral race, and will not be running for re-election. When interviewed he refused to give a motive, but several agree it's related to the recent death of his niece, Callia Marshan, in the four-hundred fifth Hunger Games. He was expected to be re-elected, but as he's no longer a candidate, who's topping the polls? Stay tuned for the ten o'clock broadcast tonight."

The next sounds I heard were clearly from the Games―so the interruption was over.

I focused again. Yeah, I could get the message through. Definitely.

"―SA-BER!"

"What?"

"Don't get whiny with me. I need you to drop something off. You know where." I scribbled a few notes, kind of in a bullet-point list, on the first scrap piece of paper I grabbed and shoved it at Saber, still in the other room. "Go on."

He did.

I hoped the note would be enough information to get spread through the system. A suspicious call from the Head Gamemaker. A meeting in the Capitol on Sunday. A war to begin.

I turned the television off so I didn't have to watch the Games yet again. Ignorance was bliss, as they said. Also a potentially fatal flaw that would bring down the Capitol.

And if the districts wanted to go with them, then so be it.

. . . . .

Litiea Hellion, District Ten, Victor of the 396th Hunger Games

These things at the landing station that called themselves people were pathetic.

Several, however, had a shred of sense and jumped out of my way.

By the time I managed to reach the hovercraft, I was probably running late, but it didn't matter. The image of whatever-her-name-was Head Gamemaker freaking out due to my absence was amusing enough to keep some expression on my face.

It did not slip my notice that I was pretty much alone for the ride. One Capitol guard sitting as far away as he could from me in the cramped space, and the pilot/co-pilot team in the cockpit.

I wasn't thirsty at the moment, but I couldn't help asking: "Is there any water here?"

The Capitol guard apparently assumed the question was directed at him, after looking around like an idiot to see if there was anyone else. "In this hovercraft?"

"Yeah, 'in this hovercraft', genius. Thought I was asking about District Ten?"

"I don't like to make assumptions."

"Just answer my question." There was hesitation. I tilted my head to the left a bit and grinned at him.

"Err, I don't believe so. But we'll be arriving in the Capitol within the hour―"

"And if we were to crash?"

"I'm sorry?"

I shook my head. "Are you deaf? I said, if this vehicle were to break down right now, how long do you think we could survive without water?"

"Aren't you able to survive twenty-four hours?"

"Is that a question?"

No answer right away, so I dramatically stretched. "Fine. I'm taking a nap so I don't have to be in your company."

I shifted so I could rest my head against the window, and closed my eyes.

Rain. Blood. The shriek of two swords colliding. The cannon of the girl from Nine.

I jabbed the weapon out at Three, who jumped back, swung his sword out, forward at me as I ran to the right. I cut a straight line down through the air, the blade colliding with his shoulder. A scream, more intensity in the blood rain, a quick counter-attack.

Searing, burning pain erupted in my side as the sword dug in and then came out. For a second, he thought he won.

I threw my arm out, barely aiming, and was pulled a bit too far to the right. I turned the force around, and the weapons collided again. I jumped forwards, slammed the sword into his stomach. Still, he was just refusing to die.

I slashed at the air, maybe hitting him one in three shots, felt something dig into my arm and the quick rush of flowing blood.

I lifted the sword into the air and brought the end of it down, stabbing him clear through the base of his neck.

Boom!

I woke with a jolt, reaching out to grab for the nearest weapon. No such luck. The Capitol guard looked disturbed, and I took a few deep breaths, shook my head to get rid of the thoughts. What I needed to do was focus. I adjusted my glasses to get rid of the maroon stripe that was cutting across my blurry vision.

I tried to think about where I was going, what I was doing, what my objective was, what was in it for me. To the Capitol, to go to the meeting, to stay alive. I had no interest in "helping out"; but I didn't have a death wish, and I knew better than to straight-out argue with the Head Gamemaker or President. What was the point anymore?

I'd spent my whole life trying to keep the people of the Capitol happy. Doing the work of District Ten. Fighting to the death for their entertainment. Going on the Victory Tour. And, especially last year, doing the assassin work. Edalene. And a few others who were in the way.

I didn't get to kill my fellow victor from Ten. Or that girl from Four, who they let go even after almost inciting a riot. Creating an "accident" was considered, but no. Apparently it wasn't worth any risk to them.

I didn't even get to know everything―but I had a feeling that today, I'd know some of it. I'd been told that Edalene had known too much. But even I couldn't have predicted her almost letting it slip to all of Panem. So that just made convenient timing for me. What… Tara had done, I didn't know, but I assumed it was also "knowing too much". Either way, I didn't get that job.

I looked out the window. We were flying over some district, but it didn't have enough defining features for me to recognize it. One? Six? Who cared, anyways?

"We'll be landing in five minutes," the guard informed me.

"Lovely."

I felt a bit sick when we landed―quick, spiraling, down down down… Then, a few feet and a slight thud as we touched the ground. For a second, I felt like there just wasn't enough air, and I wanted out. I flew down the stairs to the concrete in record time and hopped off the last one, actually grateful for something solid under my feet.

Then I relaxed, and chilled out. The guard got me into a cab, and the driver blathered on and on to me the whole way to the Gamemaking Center―about how I would love it here in the Capitol, as if I'd never been there before, about the sights, about every last place we passed on the way, about the song that was playing, about the traffic. All in the most high-pitched, squeaky Capitol accent I'd ever heard that broke at the end of almost every sentence. I wasn't sure how I could hear by the time I stepped out, in front of a tall, skyscraper building, dark silver-gray and complex.

The Gamemaking Center, Capitol.

. . . . .

Keith Rienman, District Eight, Victor of the 403rd Hunger Games

Being stuck in a room with the Head Gamemaker and President, waiting for the other victors to get there could be described as awkward, at best.

For the first few minutes there was a bad attempt at conversation, because President Paylor was just too intimidating, I had no interest in talking, and Lavender Flame had to be the most socially awkward person I'd ever met. She started almost everything with nervous laughter and, "Ah…", and then fiddled with her hair. Constantly.

And I had to keep a firm grip on the arm of my chair to keep from strangling the President. You killed her, I thought. Because I wouldn't do what you wanted. And here we are again.

Finally, Kizzy got there, then Litiea Hellion arrived, then Trey Dracco from Three. Last, Sassy Hemlocke, One. A Career. I wanted to laugh. She had to be the nicest victor in Hunger Games history, and even walked in, after realizing that we hadn't started yet, apologizing because she was late. And I didn't even think she was.

Paylor started off with a "thank you for coming, even though I would've killed you if you didn't" speech, minus the last part, but it was fairly implied. It was always implied.

When she finally went quiet, Lavender started to speak up. "We… we called you here, because the first thing we need to talk about is the Dark Days."

Okay, really, I did not go all the way to the Capitol for a history lesson.

"You all know that, a long time ago, there wasn't a Panem. But the world started to destroy itself, and our country was formed―the Capitol, and thirteen districts.

"But there was an underground group, who, they―they called themselves, District Fourteen. It wasn't too much of a secret, we, them, the Capitol, knew all along. And eventually the Capitol let them become a district, because they agreed that there needed to be a district for transportation. It was too late when they found out that all of District Fourteen wanted to rebel."

The information took its time setting in. Slowly, I realized that this didn't tie in with the history I'd learned in school.

"District Fourteen started the Dark Days, declaring war on the Capitol. But Thirteen got the blame."

I couldn't help but try to gauge the reactions of my fellow victors. Litiea and Sassy looked shocked beyond belief; Kizzy looked bored. Maybe she'd already heard this. And Trey's expression was unreadable, just eerily blank.

I didn't even know what to think. This was so long ago, why did it matter now? Unless…

President Paylor stepped in. "Eventually Fourteen grew too strong; Panem was forced to let them go. Anyone other than the President who knew what was going on was killed, all of the evidence destroyed. Thirteen was attacked. And it gave us the Hunger Games."

A cover-up! I screamed mentally. You're telling me that's all the Games are? You've taken so many lives, destroyed so many families, to keep a lie going!

"But there was one written record," Lavender put in. "And we put it in the arena, for the four-hundred fifth Games. We could watch the tributes, edit the footage, see who could help us and make sure they were the only one who got out. That was Kizzy."

"The Quell was changed," Paylor explained. "Made to be early and to have the objects."

I was aware my mouth was hanging open; I closed it. Great Panem, were these people insane?

"But we believe that they―District Fourteen―are planning another attack. On the arena, the tributes. So they have to be prepared, trained. I believe that, if they are abducted… they could get information back to us. Very valuable information."

"That's where you come in," Lavender said softly. "We need your help, in organizing all of the training. We have the tribute list." She handed a few pieces of paper, laying on the desk, to Kizzy. "When you're on your Victory Tour, we've arranged it so that you'll be able to meet these children. Make sure they trust you. There are a few notes there to help; all you need to do is have them agree to the training, and, for some, volunteering."

She turned to address the rest of us. "Sassy," she said. "Sage is on the list for District One. Please, don't tell her anything just yet. She'll know soon enough."

The reaction was mixed. I assumed that, the daughter of a victor, from a Career district, would be a fine contestant, very willing. And Sassy would be proud of her, but this―this―was different, this was a turn in events. She nodded, slowly.

"And, Keith," Lavender said, looking at me. "Kenton's on the list."

I gaped at her. Kenton? Di-Did she just say that? Kenton, my little brother, scarcely sixteen. He was so carefree; he loved life so much, you, you c-couldn't just… take it all away from him. But would the alternative be worse? What would happen to him if he didn't agree? What was worse than possibly being taken hostage in a district we'd never heard of before? I forced myself to nod, and heard myself say, "I won't tell him." No one else was going to die because of my actions. No one.

"And, Trey―"

"―Saber." A nod.

"Right."

As far as I knew, Trey didn't have any kids. But, almost all of us had someone we knew going into this now. They were tearing apart our lives.

"That's… that's all you need to know, for now. We'll be in touch," Paylor said. "The training will be organized before the tour. I can guarantee you this won't be easy. There will be hard work involved, and very trying times even before the Games."

No. Duh.

The meeting seemed to unofficially end, but all of us victors had to sign our names to this document that basically said we wouldn't tell anyone about this. Like they'd believe us.

Lavender spoke up again:

"And for now, I suggest you all go home and take a good look at your districts, just in case."