Like loud, angry bulls, black APCs barreling down the wide ride of the Capitol had become a fact of life in the last few weeks. Some still carried the symbol of Panem, while others the great eagle of Panem scrubbed off and replaced it with the mockingjay.
Why there were always in such a hurry, nobody really knew. The citizens of the Capitol had more or less accepted the rebels were there to stay.
Truth was, there wasn't a particular reason for the rebels' flagrant disregard for traffic safety. Besides one of Snow's cabinet or a particularly infamous Gamemaker being spotted, the rebels didn't have much to do. "Official orders" were to maintain an even presence around the city, but in practice it meant getting leadfoot and scaring the hell out of pedestrians.
One of the rebels, Jack, was sitting in the driver's sit, his vehicle driving down what used to be the road used for chariots. He was listening to Free Panem Radio, the rebels' pirate radio station and now technically the voice of the new Panem government. The announcer's voice was clear as crystal, a result of operating out of a radio station in the Capitol proper. It certainly beat the old days of them broadcasting out of a shack in the woods somewhere, but Jack almost missed the scratchy and near impossible-to-understand audio.
The people of the Capitol were hideous and evil, but at least they made good music. The pop song playing on the radio began to fade, and the announcer's voice came in.
"Alright. It is 11 AM Capitol Time, and Free Panem is now taking calls."
Jack sat up straight in his seat. He loved these. It was always one of three things: a district civilian calling to gloat about the rebellion being successful, a Capitol citizen asking a hilariously naive question, or a Capitol citizen that was really, really salty about the rebellion happening. The first two were good for a laugh, and like Flickerman, the announcer was talented at deflecting criticism from the last group.
The announcer spoke again. "Looks like we have a call from one...Reena. Alright Reena, you're on Free Panem. What's on your mind?"
A squeaky voice answered. Definitely from the Capitol. "Yes, I'd like to volunteer."
There was a pause, and the announcer answered in a confused tone. "I'm sorry?"
"I'd like to volunteer as tribute."
Another pause. Jack heard the announcer force down a chuckle, then answer. "Ma'am, you can't do that."
"Oh. So do I do a bunch of those Tesswhatevers?"
"Tessera. And no."
The squeaky sounded legitimately annoyed. "Why not?"
"Ma'am, regardless of what you've heard, there will be no 76th Hunger Games. That matter has been settled."
"But I go to the gym every day! I-"
There came the sound of shuffling over the radio as the announcer apparently leaned in to his microphone.
"If you have some idea about glory and honor and sacrifice that the old video went on about, I will tell you this right now: they were lies. People died in the Hunger Games. Horribly. Children were murdered! And we're not going to repeat that just because you can run a few miles on a treadmill."
The caller didn't responded, and ended the exchange by hanging up.
A sigh came over the radio. "Sorry folks, I'm just getting tired of answering this question. So to reiterate: Panem officially and unconditionally renounces the Hunger Games, and any form of contest resembling the Hunger Games. Great, now I'm all pissed off. Uh, let's listen to a little Bonnie Warbonnet and we'll return to calls in a bit."
More Capitol pop music began to play, its beats and throbs almost addicting. The music was then interrupted by a burst of static as a rebels' voice interrupted Jack's music.
"Jack, where are you?"
He pressed the reply button. "The chariot road. Why?"
"We found another statue of Snow."
"So blow it up?"
"Yeah, this one's kind of in the side of a building. Yours is the one with the tow cable ain't it?"
Jack sighed. "Yeah."
"Okay, we're a little north of Point 9. You'll see our trucks parked next to the alley. You and Fred should probably be able to pull it out."
"10-4."
He let go of the radio button. Positive that this plan would backfire horribly, he still turned his APC around on the wide road and drove toward the rendezvous.
