We follow the admin to the hall of rest, the guards bringing up the rear. Our only stop is via the sick bay for Charlake to pick up stronger tranquilisers, just in case I need to be sedated and we pass but a few people on the way. There had been condolences and some attempt at small talk on the medics part but it rapidly dwindles until till the only sounds are the background hum of thirteen's lights, our boots on the floor and my chains.
Handcuffs, attached at the front thankfully, and ankle cuffs; both attached to a loop around my middle over my shirt. I can walk at a comfortable stride but not run, I can move my arms quite freely as the chain isn't so short my writs tar conjoined. I just can't move one without the other nor to far forward or above my head to strike, and on tugging them it would take a lot of effort to break. I'd made no protest on wearing them as there was no telling what might occur on seeing a body- (I can't think of it as Effie's just yet-I mustn't) but I now wish I had as they clank and jingle happily, despite the situation, as the six of us make our way down various corridors.
Even though the hall is set not too far from my cell it seems to take both forever and far too quick. There's another 'guard' waiting outside - a plague scared Thirteen boy with a crew cut who looks even younger then Prim, stood behind the desk with a large ring of keys attached to his belt. He must have been notified of our clearance as the admin only has to give him our surnames and the file from the clipboard before leaving us, duty done. Had we been in the capitol, Haymitch might have tripped them as they past us.
The little guard boy skims the top sheet, nods and unlocks the double doors leading us into another corridor, one of closed doors. It's colder here the other places of the underground city I've been and there gentle unidenfied music playing though a speaker system, just enough to be heard above the hum of the dim lights. It seems very peaceful but as we pass an open empty room I stumble and the soldiers nearly bumps into me before nudging me to continue. I've see the sinks and metal trays inside and I realise the halls of rest isn't just a moughe or a funeral pallor, but an autopsy unit too.
How like thirteen to have a duel function for a place. No wonder it's so close to medical bay.
"Solider Mellark?" I've lagged behind despite another encouraging nudge forward. Haymitch has noticed and waits for me.
"Peeta? Come on Kid." I barely hear him. All I want is air. Sweet fresh air not Thirteens recycled stale lungful's. But I fall back in to line, counting our steps as we go. "I feel like we should be wearing some gaudy Capitol Suits." Haymitch mutters, more to himself then to me. "It's what she'd have liked."
"Big big day- Eyes bright Chins up, smiles on." I say. It's automatic and my voice cracks like an old recorded.
"Yeah. But if you keep mimicking her like that- I dunno, Jabberjay…" He trails off, unable to form a sentace as if walking down this hall takes all his concentration. Another few rooms pass before the little guard comes to a stop and unlocks the door and steps back to let us in front.
Neither of us move.