Chapter Three
I whip around and see him. Looking a little disheveled with shadows under his eyes, and skinnier than I remembered. But with that gold eyeliner still glinting away there was no mistaking it.
"Cinna!" I scream and launch myself into his open arms. "You're alive!"
"Of course I am, who else would've had the brilliance to make those jumpsuits," Cinna teases.
I can't stop hugging him because I've been so worried about him for so long. Ever since I'd seen him being beat up before the Quarter Quell his safety has been in the back of my mind.
"So you have clothes for me?" I ask.
"Obviously," he says, placing a garment bag into my hands.
The Games are over but it seems Cinna isn't giving up on me yet.
The clothes he's given me seem to be made out of fabric from old clothes. Of course there must not be much fabric to choose from in this underground society, but since they were Cinna's of course they were fabulous. I have no clue how he's gotten his hands on a garment bag, though. Leave it to Cinna to have garment bags in the face of danger, death, and starvation.
As soon as I am all nice and visible I ask one of my many questions.
"How did you escape Cinna?"
It had looked impossible for him to do just that after I'd watched him being dragged away, battered and bloody.
"He didn't do it on his own," says Haymitch, joining the conversation.
"Yes that's true," Cinna says. "I owe everything to Haymitch."
"Wait?" I ask. "You helped him escape?"
"Well those guards didn't beat themselves up," says Haymitch with sarcasm.
"How did you do it, without them following you?"
I am curious as to why Haymitch or Cinna hasn't gotten a tracker on them, from the escape.
"Katniss, he killed them," says Cinna quietly.
"I don't regret it; they were working towards killing us."
"Who's working towards killing us?" asks Gale, he and Finnick have just wandered back into the room.
"Yeah, besides the Gamemakers, most of the Capitol and the president himself," says Finnick sarcastically.
Gale and Finnick aren't the best of friends. Gale's too practical to accommodate with Finnick's taste and Finnick is too materialistic for Gale's. Besides that, I think their disagreements are mainly because they are so alike. Both had to work to say alive at a young age, both were ready to work for it, and both are ready to voice their opinions and go for what they want. They also both loved a crazy girl.
"Well," I say, getting back into the conversation. "I expect there's a lot more people trying to kill us than that, but at least now Haymitch made sure a few of them are dead."
"Really? You, Haymitch?" asks Finnick, sizing Haymitch up.
"Of course me!" Haymitch says exasperatedly, he then muttered something that sounded a lot like "arrogant boy" under his breath. All the same, he just messed up Finnick's bronze curls and put one arm around me. "You two have got to remember who the best victor is," he says.
"What?" says Finnick, in mock horror. "It's so me!"
"Nah, I could take both of you. You're just too worried about messing up your hair again," I addressed Finnick, who was, in fact, still fixing his mused hair. "And you're going soft," I finished, to Haymitch.
"That's nonsense! The old Abernathy will never go soft," Haymitch articulates. Then he takes a swig from a white liquor bottle that I truly had no idea where he's gotten.
It's mind-blowing that us three: Finnick, Haymitch and I, can have this conversation on who would win in yet another Hunger Games. It's crazy how we could joke about what scarred us physically, mentally, and emotionally.
"So, who would like a tour of our underground?" asks Mayor Wanthope, who has been there for the whole conversation, I've just forgotten.
We are all up for the tour, first Wanthope shows us through the little door at the back near the control panel. With one last glance over my shoulder it dawns on me. The familiarity of the glass tube, the controls it all makes sense.
It seems to dawn on Haymitch and Finnick at the same time, their expressions are awe tinged with terror. It seems Haymitch hasn't known exactly how District 13 was built beforehand either. The Mayor notices our realization.
"Yes, we built the underground basing it off an old Hunger Games site," he explains apologetically.
"But, how come it didn't become a tourist attraction like all the other old arenas?" asks Gale with disgust.
"This was a scrapped arena, it barely ever happens, but sometimes, in the early stages of construction, the government decides they don't like the arena in question. Also, it helped to have Plutarch on the Gamemaker's panel. He helped convince them to scrap this one and build it in District 13."
"How are you sure there aren't cameras?" I ask suspiciously.
"Don't worry, Katniss," Cinna soothes. "They've checked everything, you're safe here."
The rest of the tour passes uneventfully: Mayor Wanthope shows us the rest of the underground's rooms, more taverns really. It seems the test arena they had built this on has been quite large, near fifty acres was my guess. What the survivors had done was use the launching rooms, or slaughter houses as we called them back in District 12, as the main head quarters but then dug out tunnels branching off from the Capitol rooms.
District 13 is a strange place; it has rock formations under the surface. Caves the survivors have made their homes.
It's dinner before we know it. A larger rock room near the center of the underground serves as the kitchen/dining hall. It looks like the 13th District is doing pretty well for itself. I wonder where all the food comes from. There are nuts and berries and a ton of vegetables.
When I ask how they got it all an old woman with a kind face tells me that before the Capitol's cameras arrived they could send their best fighters into the surrounding woods to gather food. After the surveillance showed up, they couldn't risk it. No one has been out for weeks, so it's good they've worked up a stash. They can't last forever thought.
All this thought of food rationing is reminding me of my own family. What do they have to eat? Where are they? Gale had just told me he'd "got them out" of District 12, he'd never specified where.
"Gale!" I call urgently across the table. "Where are Prim and my mother?"
I can't believe that I haven't asked this question. Maybe it's because I trust Gale too much. Maybe it's because I'm a horrible person. Either way, I need to know.
"They're safe!" Gale starts, sensing my anguish. "I couldn't have brought them here; two Capitol guys were on my tail when I was escaping. Your family is in District 11. When you were gone, last time, well, the rebellion was in full swing. The family of that little girl, Rue, they were being hunted by the Capitol. So they trekked up to 12 and lived with your family for a bit. The youngest girl was injured and your mother healed here. Anyways, before District 12 got…blown up, you could feel something wasn't right. I had to get them out of there. So I sent them back to 11, along with my family. District 11's got this great security system for the rebels that they built up. It's the safest place for them to be right now."
I chew my finger nails. I am still uneasy about everything. Still, Gale has shown extraordinary selflessness by saving my family. I reach out and take his hand.
"Thank you." I tell him.
But now I have to push Prim and my mother out of my mind, they are as safe as I can hope for now. There's another person I have to save now, who is in much more danger and has much less time to be rescued. I need to get to Peeta Mellark and I know just how to start.
The sleeping arrangements in District 13 are actually quite comfortable, it's a shame I'll never get to try them out. Some of the caverns have nice woven blankets and pillows and the underground is rather peaceful at night.
Of course, Haymitch will have a field day if he finds out what I am doing; he has more or less forbid me. But he doesn't understand. Peeta's life is at stake, and he doesn't realize how much Peeta means to me. I'm not sure how much I realize it either.
I creep as silently as I can through the underground. I'm heading to the room we arrived in so it's a good thing my sense of direction's not bad; the caves are easy to get lost in.
I make it to the room and, sure enough, my invisibility jumpsuit is still lying crinkled on the round, just where I left it earlier. I snag it off the floor and then start searching for a mask to steal; mine's whereabouts is still unknown. I spot one sitting precariously on the control panel in the corner. I reach for it but, to my horror, another hand reaches at the same time as mine.
I make to scream but a hand clamps down over my mouth. Then, my feet are whisked out from under me and my head hits the floor with a deafening crunch.