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Chapter 4

"Close enough to start a war,

All that I have is on the floor.

God only knows what we're fighting for.

All that I say, you always say more."

-Turning Tables, Adele

Ezra Gardner

I lean over the stairs' railing, searching for Gale or his brother. I can hear voices outside, but not what they're saying. I head back downstairs to the living room. After a few minutes Gale returns, shaking his head. He sits down on the worn couch beside me.

"This is crazy," he says at last.

"No shit. I'm surprised it took you this long to figure that out."

"What time is it?"

"Like eleven. I'm going to sleep. Is the guestroom available? Evangeline's in there."

"Does it really matter? Sleep in the floor for a night. It won't kill you."

"You can," I say. "And sorry if I offend you, but your mom's a bitch."

"I know."

He suddenly looks very tired and older, a decade more than he actually is. Most people think I'm only eighteen upon meeting, and when I tell them my age, they're surprised. When we'd first met Evangeline, I'd thought she was still a teenager. But that mistake could never be made with Gale. Especially not now, when he looks like he's bordering middle age.

"Hey," I say, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing up Mrs. Hawthorne, "at least you have a mother. I was dropped off at the Training Center when I was three weeks old." It was true. I'd trained for years to volunteer before being recruited as a Peacekeeper.

"I guess so." He doesn't sound like he's grudging or concurring.

"Go to sleep," I say. "We need to talk about the bombing tomorrow. I'll stay down here." I don't want to freak out Evangeline, I add silently. I'll leave that to you.

Gale hesitates and heads upstairs. I lie down on the couch. After a few minutes Evangeline comes down, flustered, carrying blankets. She scowls when she sees me. "You're down here?"

"Where did you think I'd be? Why don't you take the guestroom?"

"Hawthor- er, Gale is in there."

"Why don't you join him?" I ask with a sneer. She blushes. She really doesn't belong in this career field. "There's an extra bedroom up there tonight, because I really don't think Rory will be back tonight. He's pissed."

She nods and drops the blankets beside me. I'm momentarily confused, but then she heads upstairs. I can hear her footsteps leading the entire way up and down the hallway, the door opening and closing. And then I'm alone. I'm surprised at how the thought sends a pang of sadness through my body. It's been five days since I'd last seen Sabille or the kids. It hadn't been a happy encounter, either. I'd gone to her mother's house to try to reason with her and at least see the kids.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I see Kent and Estella?"

There they are, peeking out from behind a doorway. I bite my tongue.

"Let me come in," I say, a hint of desperation in my voice.

"No," she says. And she shuts the door.

I'd stayed on the doorstep for almost an hour after that, waiting to see if she opened the door again, but she didn't. I didn't even get to hold them or say goodbye or that I loved them before I left.

Was she still seeing the lawyer about the divorce? Or would she just pack up her things and leave like Maria had? God forbid, what if she takes the kids with her? I stare at the ceiling, my eyes wide open. The thought of never seeing them again scares me more than any fleeting notion of Garrus Mallory. The next time I'll have an opportunity to see them-if Catalina hasn't left by then-will be February. Three long months. I sit up and pull my wallet out of my pocket, thumbing through pictures. Sabille's most recent ultrasound for our unborn daughter. Kent grinning while Estella stands on stubby legs. Sabille. There's one of the three of them together. I'd been the one taking it, so I'm not in it. It makes me miss them even more.

Will I ever even see them again?

Of course I will. But even the thought is halfhearted. I push any musings of my family to the back of my mind.

The job will be harder than Paylor seems to think. If Garrus Mallory is behind the bombings-which there is only a scrap of information to suggest-he's doing a good job of distracting attention from District 12. Half the Agency is in District 4, and we're the only three people who are here, where he might be. Then there's the entire issue of if he's here in District 12, how the hell is he causing the bombings? He can't be doing all of this from here, at least not by himself. And if there's a mob organization involved, he can't be the only one responsible. Or maybe he has a computer system, with strings of numbers. That's what the Capitol did during the rebellion. Most of their missiles had been stationed in 2 and with a few careful clicks, hell could rain down. I know, because I helped them in their endeavors to kill Katniss Everdeen.

An awful thought occurs to me. District 13 and the rebels had been just as capable as doing the same as the Capitol. Then you shake your head. There is no reason Paylor would justify this.

Maybe he was the one who organized the bombings, but we can already arrest him on sight if we see him for everything he's already done. And he'd get life in an Agency prison for them, most likely, but they'll execute him for being the bombing suspect, even if it can't be proved.

"As you all know, a man by the name of Garrus Mallory is now wanted for acts that go strictly against law. He is also suspected for being behind the bombing in 4." That was Paylor, on the day of the presentation. He is also suspected for being behind the bombing in 4. He might be innocent of that, then.

Never mind that. Our job is to find him. We're not judges. Innocence has never bothered me. Because really, no one is innocent now.

For some reason, the thought comforts me. That Mallory deserves to die. I close my eyes as darkness begins to swamp me.

The next morning I head to the kitchen and find Gale and Evangeline eating toast. Rory's behind the counter, making coffee. "Where're the other kids?" I ask with a yawn.

"School," Rory answers. I sit down next to Evangeline and take a piece of toast from the plate in the middle.

"Do you know anyone who would have seen a shady character walking in the woods?" Evangeline asks Rory. For some reason the wording makes me grin.

"Well, I would," Rory says, "but I haven't been out to hunt for about a month or so."

"Katniss would," Gale says quietly.

"Everdeen?" I ask. "The Victor? The Mockingjay?"

"Yeah," he says. "We were friends before I transferred. She's the best archer I know, and we basically saved each other's families before the Games."

Rory lowers his gaze. "Yeah," he says lamely. "Katniss was a great person until she came back from the Games. They really fucked her up."

Gale glares at him but doesn't say anything, and Rory continues. "It's a shame about what happened to Prim." This time Gale flinches, and I can hear a thump under the table. This time Rory glares at him. Gale must've kicked him. "Sorry," Rory mumbles.

"Where can we meet this girl?" Evangeline asks.

"She lives in the Victors' Village, but she doesn't like visitors. She and Peeta are quiet. They don't really talk to anyone. Or do anything, really."

I glance at Gale, but he's not glaring at Rory anymore. He stares at the table.

"Do you think she'll talk to us?"

Rory shrugs. "Maybe. I go see them every once in a while. She gives me tips on shooting, but we just go to the Meadow, not the woods. I don't even know if she goes out there anymore, but she's one of the only ones who know them well. Most don't hunt anymore."

"Gale, do you think we could talk to her?"

He doesn't say anything, just stands up and looks out the window. Evangeline shrugs. "Let's go see her." Her dismissal of Gale's behavior surprises me.

"Okay," Gale says dully. I raise an eyebrow at Rory, but he just shakes his head.

Fifteen minutes later, the four of us are bound for the Victors' Village. 12 is puny in comparison to 2. This place has only one town in the entire district, with maybe ten thousand people in total. 2 has that many people at its university alone. But then, most of what District 12 and its population had been are now putrid heaps of ash sinking into the ground. Most of the actual town is gone, according to Gale.

The Victors' Village holds twelve houses. 2's had been like that until the amount of living Victors surpassed that. Ten more houses had been constructed. Only nine of the cabins are occupied here. A blonde guy who looks to be around Gale's age sits outside of one. He sees Gale and waves, who returns the gesture. "I'll see you later," he calls. The guy nods. We continue to follow Rory.

The cabin Rory leads us to doesn't give off a warm, friendly glow like the one with the man had. Instead most of the lights are off, there is no furniture on the porch, and when I glance through the window, there is no sign of children and no pictures on the walls. No sign of life, in other words. Rory knocks on the door. While we wait for someone to answer, he nods in the direction of a house a few lots over. "Haymitch lives there." Before any of us can reply, the door opens. A grim woman stands in front of us. Her expression is sharp as steel, her eyes cold as fire. Her dark hair is braided. She's young. Maybe my age. Maybe Gale's. She takes in Rory first, then Evangeline, then me. And when her eyes fall on Gale her jaw drops and her grip tightens around the doorknob until her knuckles turn white. She's about to slam the door in our faces when Rory says pleadingly, "Please Katniss, this is important."

She hesitates, clearly debating. "Come in," she says reluctantly. Now that Rory had clarified who she was, it became obvious. She looked nothing like the way I remember, but I'd only seen her in person once before, at the Nut. It had been years since she'd been in television propos. Her skin seems translucent, sickly. "Peeta's in the study. He'll want to say hi to his old friend." The way she stresses it suggests otherwise. "Peeta!"

Peeta, however, hasn't changed any since the Capitol propaganda. His eyes look a bit haunted. I've seen it many times in criminals and victims I talked to. Most were anticipating death. You could see it in their eyes, the way their pupils expanded or didn't. Peeta had the same look. He seems puzzled, and then he sees Gale. He sort of smiles, but it's not forced. He doesn't come across as disgusted, either, like Katniss had. "Hey, Gale. How's 2 been?"

"Good," he says. The silence stretches out, and then Katniss says, the menace plain in her voice, "Why are you here?"

I glance at Gale, but his head is lowered in shame. Rory answers for him. "These are government agents, and they're tracking someone who is suspected to be behind the bombings in 4." Katniss flinches, and he goes on. "The guy was last seen in the woods here, and they were wondering if you had."

She scowls. It's not the question that bothers her, I decide. It's the fact that Gale needs the information. What the hell happened between them? "I haven't been out since October," she says.

"That's too bad," I say. "Do you know anyone else who might have?"

"Thom, maybe. What's the guy look like?"

Evangeline reaches into her bag and pulls out a grainy mugshot of Mallory. Peeta raises an eyebrow. "He's not what I expected. He looks…civilized."

I almost laugh. It's not even funny. "This man is one of our only suspects with the capability to organize the bombings."

Katniss squints at the photograph. "Let's go sit down," she murmurs. "Tell me who you guys are."

Within a few minutes we're all sitting around a circular table. Peeta pours coffee and retrieves freshly baked biscuits from the oven. He gestures for us to eat, and Evangeline reaches for one and tears into it.

"This man's name is Garrus Mallory. I don't know what he goes by, but that's his name," I say. "He was the Capitol's Junior Secretary of Defense and dodged execution by throwing money at Paylor. He's already wanted for sex crimes, embezzlement, and murder in District 6, and he fled here as soon as there was a warrant out for his arrest. No one at the Agency had seen him since September until several weeks ago, here."

"How could he cause the bombings if he's here?" Peeta asks, mystified.

"Computer codes or an organized crime group," Evangeline supplies. "We're fairly certain he's guilty, but he does need arrested and tried for what he did in 6."

"They took out Finnick's pier," Katniss says quietly. "The Finnick Odair Memorial Pier."

"It was a message to you and the other Victors who helped with the rebellion," I say. "And Paylor and the Agency. If they can still corrupt Finnick Odair, they can definitely get to you."

Evangeline hands Katniss the mugshot again. She stares at it intently for a few minutes and shakes her head. "Sorry. I haven't seen him. Not a lot of people go out in the woods anymore-Thom and I and a handful of people who can't get enough to eat in the Seam."

"Try to picture him with different colored hair, or bald, or with a beard," Evangeline urges. Again, she shakes her head.

"The last person I remember seeing in the woods was Thom. He had a wild turkey. Before that…there aren't many."

"If you can think of any time that you have," Evangeline finishes, "call us. We wish you the best." They're the formal words I recognize. I've performed and recited just as well as Evangeline is.

When I was a Peacekeeper, before the rebellion started, one of the others in my squadron had been killed during an avalanche. She'd been a District 2 native all her life, like me, and I had been the one to return her remains to her mother and father. It was a big deal. She was a commander. "We wish you the best," I had said after leaving the funeral. The words were dull and empty because I had known Commander Dejesus better than most, but I wasn't allowed to grieve. I wasn't allowed to say anything more than those five words. Maybe it's better. Maybe that's why Paylor adopted that ideal, too.

"Your names?" Peeta asks politely, jolting me back to reality.

"Gardner and Moffat," I say, extending my hand. "I believe you already know Agent Hawthorne."

We head outside. I breathe a sigh of relief when we get out of sight of the Victors' Village. "That was interesting," I comment to Gale. He says nothing, just shrugs.

"Why does she hate you?" I ask. Evangeline is a few yards ahead, out of earshot. I'm glad. She doesn't know Gale.

"Fuck off," he says quietly, and he kicks a rock on our path. I pick up my pace to walk alongside Rory and Evangeline. Rory opens the door when we reach the house and we file in. Gale leaves again after a few minutes to "catch up." I'm the one who dares to ask what Evangeline and I have both been wondering.

"Why does she hate him?"

Rory turns on the television. "You mean you don't know?"

"I've known Gale for five years," I say, "and he's never mentioned that he knows her. I knew, from the propos in the war, but I didn't know about this."

"What has he told you?" Rory asks quietly.

"He blew up the Nut. I know that. I was in there when it happened. I made it out." I remember the gas masks and the smoke so thick I couldn't see a thing, and I remember being shot.

"When we were in District 13," Rory explains, flipping through the channels, "Gale helped with war strategies. Obviously he was in propaganda, but he worked 3 on explosives and weaponry and strategies. He helped this guy from 3-they picked him out of the arena with Finnick and Katniss, I think."

The news is replaying footage from the explosion last night.

"Snow had a bunch of kids at his mansion to act as a barrier to stop the rebels from killing him. He knew they wouldn't kill kids. They were bombed. A bunch died. 13 sent in medics. Katniss's sister was with them. The bombs went off again. Prim died." There are tears in Rory's eyes. "She was fucking helping them, you know? And she fucking died."

"What does that have to do with Gale?" Evangeline asks quietly.

"Prim burnt to death. There wasn't anything left of her to give back to her mother. We were both thirteen when it happened. It didn't make sense to anyone why a Capitol hovercraft would put Snow in danger. It wasn't a Capitol hovercraft. The rebels took it over. Bombed the kids. It had been one of Gale's strategies. Play with human emotions. He didn't know that the rebels would send their own medics in."

"Why would they kill their own medics?" I demand. I hadn't known most of this-it had all been classified deep in the recesses of Paylor's computers.

"Coin was blackmailing Katniss to be the Mockingjay," Rory says simply. "She wanted Katniss to know she still controlled her."

"He wasn't helping, was he?" I ask harshly.

"No! Of course not!" Rory's voice cracks with emotion. "He loved Prim. We all did." He wipes his eyes. "That's why Katniss killed Coin."

Any information on Coin's death had been far out of my reach, and I'd never had any desire to look for it, anyway. Now I know. I share a glance with Evangeline. I'm an orphan, and as far as I know, an only child. Then I think of Kent and Estella, and how I'd feel if Paylor blew them up, and maybe if Gale was inexplicably a factor in it all. Rory wipes his eyes, sniffling. "You never met her. You don't understand. She-She was a sweetheart. She'd never last a day in the Games."

Faces of the dead flash across the screen from the explosion in 4.

How many Games had I watched, waiting, wanting, anticipating kids like Prim dying? How many people had I killed in preparation to win the Games? I had been taken out of the Reaping at sixteen, when I became a Peacekeeper, knowing there was no way I could die at the hand of a tribute. There had always been volunteers. I had always been thirsty to watch their blood spill.

None of us says a word after that. Mrs. Hawthorne must be at work, wherever that is, and the kids at school, because the house is empty. Rory goes to the kitchen and eats, then comes back out and says he has to go to his shift at the mine. When he's left, Evangeline says, "He'd probably be a good field operative."

"Too emotional," I acknowledge. "Better as an analyst."

"I'll put in a good word for him at the office," Evangeline says quietly.

We fall silent. With silence comes time to think, and I spiral through a reverie. Kent and Estella. Blood. Sabille and I. Thunder. Gale and Oline. Rain. Maria and I. Evangeline. Gore. Rory. Katniss and Peeta. District 2, the snowcapped mountains and the fire in our veins and the hate in our bones. This is a foreign place.

In District 2, when I'd been training as a Career, Oline had been as well. She had been nothing like she is today. Unsmiling, freckled. Puny. She smiles now. She smiles like she's happy, even after all she's been through.

I'd met Maria through training, too. It had never worked the way it should have with Maria. We were married five months. Sabille and I have been married four years.

I look sideways at Evangeline. Wonder. She has to have some kind of story of her life before the rebellion, of her recruitment, of how she got noticed by District 13. She has to be someone.

The newscaster talks about how the Mayor of District 4 is to give a speech on the terrorism and defending himself. Because Paylor's being a bitch and might lose him his job over something out of his control.

It's smart-no, ingenious-that whoever is behind the bombings could live in another district. The bastard would never be suspected.