PRESIDENT Paylor calls me back the next day, and I inform her of my decision right away. I figure that if I get this over with as soon as possible, I will not have to question myself too much. But even as I speak, I feel the doubt coursing through me, threatening to paralyze my already numb mind. Is it in my power to sentence innocent children to their death? Their parents might have been my enemies, but can I seriously condemn them to a fate that even I, until now, have nightmares about?
Paylor is in my ear. I think she exhales right into the receiver. "I thought you'd never give me an answer," she says, obviously relieved. I'm sure I've never heard sound this way. It never even occurred to me that people of authority could sound this way.
"Who else are you calling to decide on this?" I ask. "Since we're, you know, a democracy."
"The other victors," she replies.
"Why didn't you have this settled within your core group?"
"We had this settled, but the unrest, as I told you, is growing. We decided that the Hunger Games should never be repeated, but you should have seen the looks on my advisers' faces."
"So looks are enough to make you doubt your claim?"
"That's not half of it." She doesn't say anything more. I choose to let it go, because pushing it would probably get me on Paylor's bad side. Not that I care, really, but I want my peace of mind.
"So, uh, why did this take so long? Three years?" I ask Paylor.
"It is probably best if I answer your questions—I'm sure you have more—once you get here in the Capitol. I will send—"
"I'm not going back there." I get the words out forcefully.
"—a plane to fetch you, Haymitch Abernathy and Peeta Mellark. There is a lot to be discussed, and we can't cover everything on the phone. Is the day after tomorrow a suitable date?"
She makes it sound like a question, but I get the feeling that I really don't have a choice. Uneasiness floods my brain. I only feel like this when there's trouble ahead. Paylor is holding something back. That's why she sounds so…afraid.
"Whatever you wish, Ma'am." Then I hang up. Rude, but what the heck?
The last Hunger Games will be held. I'm sure of it. Something tells me that even if the others say no, the arena is prepared, the traps well-planted, the deaths carefully arranged. Paylor is simply making it appear like she needed us victors. Things are going back to what they had been. We are pawns, and the Capitol is the player with the upper-hand. And I fell for it.
"Revenge is never the answer," Peeta had told me.
But what is the answer, Peeta? I have made my decision. Quite rash and impulsive, but there is no backing out.
Pushing thoughts of the Games and the Capitol and Peeta out of my mind, I silently curse myself. I have said goodbye to my past. Now it's pulling me back in and I have welcomed it. I admit that I don't know what to think.
To clear my head, I leave the house. The ground is wet and the wind is chilly, but the rain has stopped. The clouds have parted, revealing an early afternoon sun. I head to town, and immediately see Rory Hawthorne, Gale's brother, hanging around the market. He's sixteen now, and he looks so much like Gale. They have the same dark hair, gray eyes, and olive skin. We all do.
"Katniss!" he calls, and walks in my direction.
"Rory," I say as he nears. He has grown taller than me. "What's up?"
"Gale said it was your birthday yesterday. So, uh, belated happy birthday, Kat." He smiles, and I realize that he is the spitting image of Gale, minus the fire in his eyes.
"Thanks," I manage. "Where's Hazelle? And the kids?"
"They're at home," Rory says. "Gale is hunting," he adds, although I never asked.
"Look, can you guys drop by my house later? Let's have dinner together," I suggest. I pluck the words off the top of my head, not knowing why.
"That'd be cool." Rory then hesitates, as if he's about to say something. But he just says, "Hey, I gotta run." Then he's gone.
I roam all over the District, making small talk with old friends and neighbors. Everyone is so positive about everything; it hurts my head to think that I'm being sucked back into my dark history.
In the end, I find myself standing in front of the gate separating the woods from the town. This is where I belong, I think. My bow and arrows are waiting for me. Game is around every corner. Since I invited the Hawthornes for dinner, I figure I should have something fresh to offer.
The wind whistles through the leaves, but aside from that, the world is silent. I tread the earth with well-worn boots, not making a single sound. I lose track of time. I become so lost in hunting, in following my game's trail, in thinking of nothing but my prey, that I do not sense him until he's behind me.
"Hello, Catnip."
Without looking at him, I say, "Hello, Gale."
He takes my game bag off my shoulders and slings it over his own, relieving me of the dead weight I have been carrying around. "Let me carry this." I turn to face him.
"Why did you come back?" I ask. We commence walking, side by side, just like the old times. "And I don't want to hear the 'I came back for you' crap."
He laughs, and his face lightens. "Well, I had to go back to my family, Kat. I'm tired of sleeping in a place where I couldn't trust anyone. I missed District 12. I missed hunting. I missed my family."
I climb a tree, easily scaling its thick limbs. Gale follows, and we settle on a thick branch high up above the ground.
"Rory's taller than me," I say.
"Ha. Everyone's taller than you. You're so small," Gale teases.
"I know."
He suddenly turns serious. "How have you been, Katniss?"
"I told Rory to tell you and Hazelle and the kids to drop by my house dinner time," I say, refusing to answer his question.
Gale shakes his head, grinning. "Who would cook?"
"Do not insult my cooking skills, Hawthorne." But I am also smiling.
"Oh, so you can cook now? Last I checked, you couldn't even make a proper soup."
I want to bring up that the last time we had been together was three years ago, but I don't. "Ha-ha. See for yourself tonight."
"Okay. So what's this, a post-birthday celebratory dinner?"
I nod. I drop Gale's gaze and train my eyes on the ground below for a long time. When I look at him again, he asks for the second time, "How have you been, Katniss?"
This time, I decide to answer him. "I get by," I say simply.
"Seriously? Three words are all you have for me?"
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"Doesn't matter. How have you been?" I ask, although I'm not sure I want to know.
"I get by," he says, then stares at me dead in the eye.
"How original," I sneer, but I hold his tantalizing gaze. Suddenly I am catapulted back into the past, in District 2, in that cold night by the fire. We had been kissing. Then for no reason, I am wondering if I had loved him then.
Now, I am searching his gray eyes for the fire that I used to adore. I find it at once, burning bright right through me. Fire symbolizes me. Gale is fire. But fire killed Prim. Gale killed Prim. I don't want to believe that, but it is true.
Still, I cannot help but trust Gale. He is, after all, the person who knows me best.
"Can I tell you something?" I begin.
"Of course. You didn't have to ask permission." He smiles, and I can't help but feel that this moment could have been from long ago, when we were just young outlaws, carrying no baggage in our souls but the instinct to keep our families fed and safe.
So I spill my conversations with Paylor. Gale hardly blinks. "That's stupid," he says when I finish, his jaw set. "For one, why wait three years?"
"I asked the same thing."
"So all this time, they've been holding those kids in prison?" Gale is starting to be furious.
"That's what I think."
"Something is off. It's almost like someone is controlling Paylor."
"I know," I say. "But who? And how could anyone control her? She's the president."
"Exactly," he stresses. "So you're going to the Capitol?"
I start making my way down the tree. The sun is almost setting, and I have to prepare dinner. I hope it won't be a total failure. "Yeah," I say to Gale, who stays up there.
I reach the foot of the tree before he responds. His voice is faint because he's so high up, but I'm certain I hear him right when he says, "I'm coming with you."