The three figures stood out, deep red against the pale sand of the beach. Finnick watched them with narrowed eyes. Surely they were tributes…but at this distance, who? And why that ghastly color?
"Who is that?" asked Peeta. "Or what? Muttations?"
Hardly likely, Finnick thought. Those were definitely humans…one of the trio, who had been hauling another along, let its companion fall to the ground with an obvious show of exasperation. Stomping its foot, it went to the third figure – which was wandering around in circles like a derailed ant – and pushed it for no apparent reason.
Johanna. Of course. Who else would act like that?
"Johanna!" shouted Finnick, aware of the note of relief in his voice. It wasn't that he liked Johanna personally, he thought as he ran towards them. It was just that she was an essential part of the plan. And they should have met up before this.
"Finnick!" Johanna's face temporarily lit up before she frowned. "About time – I was wondering what happened."
"A lot of things," said Finnick, his voice catching slightly. But he wasn't going to talk about Mags with Johanna.
"What about you?" he asked. Now that they were close, he could see that the red coloring was a coat of dried blood. His stomach turned.
"I got to the Cornucopia all right, but by the time I had my bearings Nuts and Volts had disappeared into the jungle. Blight joined up with me, and we went in to find them. Not much happened, until after the lightning hit that tree. Then all these clouds came, and there was liquid coming down. We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field."
"I'm sorry, Johanna," said Finnick. Actually, he was slightly nauseated. He had never known Blight, nor did he think Johanna much affected by his loss, but the idea of a rain of blood was repugnant. He was aware that Katniss and Peeta had joined them.
"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home," said Johanna in her typical careless manner. "And he left me alone with these two. He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia," she said, prodding Volts with her toe. "And her – "
Automatically, everyone's heads turned to the now aptly-nicknamed Nuts. Not only was she wandering in those deranged circles, but she was muttering, "Tick, tock. Tick, tock."
"Yeah, we know," said Johanna, with a commendable lack of sympathy. "Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock." Nuts's wandering course brought her straight into Johanna. Before Finnick could react, she pushed Nuts so hard she fell to the sand. "Just stay down, will you?"
"Lay off her," snapped Katniss. Finnick stared at her in slight awe. He'd never seen Katniss really mad; now her hair was practically crackling in fury.
Johanna glared at her with the force of a thousand desert suns. "Lay off her?" she hissed, and slapped Katniss hard. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You – "
That was it. Mad enough to do some b-tch-slapping himself, Finnick grabbed Johanna and submerged her in the ocean again. And again. She kept cussing Katniss out the whole time, despite the fact that Katniss had departed with Peeta, Nuts, and Volts.
Finally, Johanna shut up. Finnick waited a second to make sure she was really done before releasing her. Spitting water and wet hair out of her mouth, Johanna hauled herself back onto the beach. "What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"Sorry," said Finnick shortly, floating on his back in the water. "Just trying to get all the blood off."
"Trying to get – " Johanna pointed at him, apparently incensed beyond words. "Who do you bloody think – "
"No pun intended, I hope?" said Finnick, raising his eyebrows.
Johanna treated him to a basilisk glare. "Let's get back to the others," she snapped. "They're starting to look good even compared to your pretty face – though it's not so pretty now," she added, casting an eye over the mess of dark green ointment and peeling scabs.
"Only temporary, love," said Finnick, standing and splashing to the shore. As they walked the short stretch of beach to where the others were grouped, Johanna flashed him a very different look. Not hostile, not skeptical – but expectant. And slightly worried.
Finnick knew what it was about. Their plan, of course. But he had no idea of knowing what she specifically wanted or feared, and no way of asking. Or answering, for that matter.
They reached the others – Katniss, Peeta, a nude and bandaged Volts, and a still-circling Nuts. It was a good thing they had a steady supply of food and water, because Johanna just kept shoving it all down her throat. She probably would have eaten all of it if Katniss hadn't saved some for Nuts.
As Johanna ate, Finnick told their "adventures." He found it was easier for him to recount everything if he kept his words short and his tone disinterested. He left out Mags' death. Johanna probably wouldn't care, and he didn't want her scorn or unconcern.
At last, she was done stuffing her face. "Right," she said. "We should probably get some sleep. Who's up for guard duty?"
"I'll do it," said Finnick automatically.
"No, you stayed up last night," said Katniss. "You need sleep." Her concern caught him off guard.
"I'll do it," said Peeta. "You need to rest, too, Katniss."
"I'm not tired at all," she countered. "I'll guard."
"Me too," said Johanna suddenly. "I won't – I don't feel like lying down." She shuddered slightly.
"Right, then." Feeling a little awkward, Finnick lay down a few feet away. The sand was too hard to be comfortable, the sun too bright to induce sleep – even though he was dog-tired. Eventually, he stopped shifting position and just lay very still, hoping slumber would come to him. His back was to Johanna and Katniss, so he couldn't see them. But he could still hear their quiet conversation.
"How'd you lose Mags?" Johanna asked.
"In the fog," Katniss replied. "Finnick had Peeta. I had Mags for a while. Then I couldn't lift her. Finnick said he couldn't take them both. She kissed him and walked right into the poison."
"She was Finnick's mentor, you know," said Johanna. She sounded angry, but not venomous.
After a beat, Katniss responded. "No, I didn't," she said softly.
"She was half his family," said Johanna, almost civilly. Finnick, eyes closed, bit his knuckle so that he wouldn't make a sound and betray himself. But it was interesting – Johanna, whom he had thought would be totally unaffected, was defending him…
"So what were you doing with Nuts and Volts?" asked Katniss.
"I told you," said Johanna briskly. "I got them for you. Haymitch said if we were to be allies I had to bring them to you." She paused, maybe judging Katniss's reaction. "That's what you told him, right?"
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
That was…interesting. Katniss had no idea of the plan (supposedly), yet she had wanted Nuts and Volts as allies, despite the fact that they were clearly undesirable. And she had wanted Mags. And had been strangely kind to the morphling. Finnick felt as if he were seeing a new side of her. Maybe there was a good heart there, under the tough layer she had had to adopt for the Hunger Games. Like he really was a good guy, under that sarcastic mask he wore.
Finnick wasn't sure when, but at some point he passed from reflections to dreams.
In what only seemed like a few minutes, he was awakened by someone shaking him. "Get up," said Katniss, in that sharp voice no one ever disobeyed. "We have to move."
Shaking sand out of his hair, Finnick sat up and gazed blearily at her. "What?"
"A clock," she said impatiently. "The arena is a clock, divided into twelve sections. Every hour, something happens in a section. At midnight and noon, lightning hits that tree. Then the blood rain starts. Then the fog, then the monkeys – Tick, tock. Wiress figured it out, after all."
"That's – " Finnick had started to say that was ridiculous, but he quickly realized she was right. It was an ingenious idea, he had to admit.
Sure, he'd known about the lightning tree, but not much else. Heavensbee was still a Gamemaker, and proud of his arena. He'd wanted the tributes to figure it out on their own.
Johanna wasn't buying Katniss's idea. "I think it's stupid," she snapped. "But all the same, better safe than sorry." She began helping Peeta to get Volts back in his jumpsuit.
"Tick, tock!" Nuts was awake again.
"Yes, tick, tock, the arena's a clock," soothed Katniss. Finnick turned away, disgruntled for some reason. Maybe because it was hard for him to see Katniss in this new, caring light. Or maybe because the action reminded him of how he had sometimes comforted Annie.
Nuts was eating now, as ravenously as Johanna had before. Finnick gave her the hunk of crust still left. The way she attacked it – it was like an animal. He turned away again.
Finnick became aware of Peeta supporting a struggling Volts. "Wire," said the older man, voice slurred.
"She's right here," said Peeta. Another comforting soul, damn his eyes. "Wiress is fine. She's coming too."
Volts continued to protest. "Wire."
"Oh, I know what he wants," said Johanna. She got the tin that contained the all-important wire. Finnick became aware of a moment of intense fear as he realized what might have happened had the wire been lost.
Johanna was talking about how dumb a weapon the wire was, making Volts's attachment to it seem stupid, rather than suspicious. But Peeta the genius decided to argue, saying, "He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap. It's the best weapon he could have."
And then – just to make their lives harder – Katniss jumped in with, " Seems like you'd have figured that out. Since you nicknamed him Volts and all."
Alarm bells began ringing in Finnick's head. They were getting way, way too close to the truth. But then Johanna stepped in in her characteristic, brutal way – "Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it? I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were…what, again? Getting Mags killed off?" – and although her words hurt Finnick, he was still relieved that they had averted crisis.
Sort of. Katniss was looking daggers at Johanna, and her fingers were clenched on the hilt of her knife.
"Go ahead. Try it," said Johanna – practically begging for a fight. "I don't care if you are knocked up, I'll rip your throat out."
Right, that was really going to make her popular, both with Katniss and the sponsors. Finnick decided to intervene.
"Maybe we had all better be careful where we step." He gave Katniss one of those "shut-up" looks, hoping she would realize he wanted her both to keep her cool with Johanna and leave Volts's wire alone. At least now he knew that neither she nor Peeta knew about the plan. Not that that made his life easier.
Taking the coil, he gave it carefully to Volts. "There's your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it."
"Where to?" asked Peeta, lifting Volts.
"I'd like to go to the Cornucopia and watch," said Finnick. He had no real desire to go there, but they had to move, and at least it was relatively natural-disaster free. "Just to make sure we're right about the clock."
One of the sand strips took them straight to the Cornucopia. Finnick would have preferred to swim, but decided solidarity was more important at this point and so trudged along with the others. The dried ointment had begun flaking. Now he, Katniss and Peeta looked like swamp monsters.
There wasn't a whole lot to do at the Cornucopia. Finnick sat on top of the golden mouth, watching Katniss and Johanna rummage through the weapons. The hot sun baked into his skin, making him feel warm and lazy.
Nuts was cleaning Volts's wire, singing. Finnick caught snatches of her song, bits of nonsense: hickory-dickory, a mouse, striking one.
"Oh, not the song again," groaned Johanna. "That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking."
Ankle-deep in water, Nuts stood like a sentinel and pointed to a section of forest. "Two," she pronounced.
"Yes, look," said Katniss. "Wiress is right. It's two o'clock and the fog is started."
Finnick didn't want to see the damn fog. He'd seen enough of it already.
"Like clockwork," said Peeta. He sounded like a teacher praising a kindergartner who'd done a good job of coloring. "You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress."
What the hell was this? Wiress was mad like Annie was, but Finnick had never, ever treated Annie like a child. In fact, he'd beaten the sh-t out of anyone who'd tried that.
"Oh, she's more than smart," said Volts. "She's intuitive." Oho, so he was alive after all. "She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines."
What the hell's a canary?
"It's a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there's bad air," said Katniss, in response to Finnick's spoken query.
"What's it do, die?" Typical Johanna.
"It stops singing first. That's when you should get out. But if the air's too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you." Good morbid note to end on.
Peeta was drawing a rough map of the arena. As the others tried to figure out what horror goes with what hour, Finnick closed his eyes. What he wouldn't give for a good sea breeze…this hot, moist air was stifling him. It was better here, surrounded by sun and sea and sand, than in the forest. There, he had felt like everything was closing in on him.
"Hey." He felt a finger dig into his ankle and looked down to see Johanna poking him. "Get some new weapons, instead of sitting there daydreaming." Finnick slid down the gold, landing with a soft thump in the sand. There were plenty more tridents and knives for him to play with. He selected a few at random, going for the more practical weapons as opposed to some of the showier stuff they had.
"Did you notice anything unusual in the others?" Katniss asked Johanna and Volts. They hadn't – just blood.
Something was off…Peeta was saying something, but Finnick ignored him. Frowning, he tried to find the source of the difference. It was quieter, somehow…
Nuts had stopped singing.
The Careers had appeared out of nowhere. Gloss had slit Nuts's throat, only to fall at Katniss's arrow. In the same second, Johanna sent an ax flying into Cashmere's chest. But Finnick was preoccupied with Brutus and Enobaria. Brutus had hurled his spear at Peeta. In hitting it out of the way with his trident, Finnick opened himself up to attack.
A searing pain in his thigh told him Enobaria's knife had made contact with him. Gritting his teeth, he whirled around to deal her a deathblow, only to find she and Brutus had darted around the Cornucopia and were racing down towards the jungle on one of those banks of sand.
Finnick, Katniss, Peeta and Johanna leapt forward in hot pursuit. But Finnick had barely gone two paces when the ground was yanked from under his feet and he fell on his stomach. He barely had time to realize what was going on before the ground around the Cornucopia began spinning full tilt.
A single thought rang through Finnick's mind – Hold on! He dug his fingers into the sand, scrabbling desperately for a hold. And not a moment too soon, because the circle of sand was rotating so quickly now that he would have been flung into the ocean had he not held on. Sand was flying, too – Finnick closed his eyes and flattened himself against the ground, praying it would end soon –
The ground stopped rotating so suddenly that his hold was ripped loose and he tumbled a good six feet with the momentum before coming to a halt. Groaning, he pushed himself into a sitting position. His head spun, and there was sand in his mouth and ears. It made getting his bearings difficult.
Eventually (once his mouth and ears were clear and the world stopped whirling so crazily), he ascertained that Johanna, Katniss, and Peeta had managed to cling on as well. The bodies of Nuts, Gloss, and Cashmere were floating in the ocean. Brutus and Enobaria had disappeared.
"Where's Volts?" said Johanna.
He was out in the water, too. Finnick dived in, swimming a little slower than usual – he still felt unbalanced. He reached Volts, who was clutching his glasses in one hand and flailing around with the other. "All right?" he asked, slipping an arm around Volts for support.
Volts, in trying to answer, inhaled a mouthful of water. While he was busy coughing it up, Finnick began paddling them back to shore.
"Wire," choked Volts.
"What?"
Volts managed to get enough air in his lungs and enough water out for speech. "Wiress had the wire."
Oh, sh-t. "It's okay, I think – " Finnick looked over to where Nuts's body was floating and saw the dark shape of someone's moving towards it. "Nah, look, someone's getting it."
Volts inhaled more water on the way back, despite Finnick's best efforts to keep his head out of the drink. As they reached the sand, Peeta stepped forward to help pull Volts onto dry land. "All right, Beetee?" he asked.
Volts nodded, still coughing up water. Finnick scanned the others. "Where's Katniss?"
"Getting the wire," said Johanna. Her face looked strangely drawn.
Finnick watched detachedly as Katniss swam back to them, the hovercraft bearing Nuts's body away. Another death…he was past caring, in a way. He just felt tired of it all.
And for the hundredth time, he wished he'd never agreed to be part of this plan.
Screams. The agonized cries of a young girl. Finnick didn't understand until Katniss crashed through the undergrowth, screaming a name – Prim.
Of course. Her younger sister. Finnick remembered how Katniss had volunteered in her place, last year. How could he ever have thought the girl on fire had a heart of stone?
But she was rapidly disappearing into the jungle, and Finnick knew the last thing he should do was leave her alone. When he caught up with her, the screams had stopped and she was cleaning an arrow, looking pale.
"Katniss?" he asked. What was going on? Had that really been her sister – and why the arrow?
"It's okay," she said, voice low. "I'm okay. I thought I heard my sister but – "
Her words were drowned in Annie's piercing scream. Finnick's blood turned to ice, and for a split second, overwhelming, mind-numbing fear froze him. Dear God, no…
Then he shot off as if electrified, thinking only one thing – get to Annie. If only he could reach her in time, save her before they killed her or broke her mind for good…But the thick vegetation was tripping him, the hot air making it hard for him to get enough breath. Finnick found he was sobbing breathlessly as he desperately made his way towards the cries, a single thought throbbing in his mind to match the desperate beating of his heart – Annie, Annie, Annie…
He came to the source of the screams, somewhere high in a great tree, but he couldn't see anything. Was she up there…? "Annie!" Finnick screamed, praying she would hear and respond. "Annie! Annie!"
But the horrible cries continued, cutting him like knives. Finnick kept calling her name, though it made no difference. But the all-consuming fear that possessed him made it difficult to do anything else.
Then suddenly, the screams stopped. But it only increased Finnick's fear. Had they killed her? Heart hammering and throat dry, he tried yet again to get a glimpse into the thick crown of the tree.
A bird fell at his feet. It was jet black, with a pointed crest and wicked-looking beak. As Finnick slowly bent and gingerly picked it up, a name came to his mind…jabberjay. He'd seen a picture, once. So then this was the source of the screams…he stood no chance of saving Annie.
Katniss slid down a neighboring tree, landing with a soft thump on the layer of dead leaves. "It's all right, Finnick," she said. "It's just a jabberjay. They're playing a trick on us. It's not real. It's not your…Annie."
She didn't understand. "No, it's not Annie," said Finnick, his voice heavy with despair. "But the voice was hers. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?" All he could think of was Annie, terrified, in pain, surrounded by towering figures in black with wicked metal instruments in their hands…The image was ghastly. Ghastly and enduring. It would not leave his mind.
"Oh, Finnick, you don't think they…" Katniss was white as a ghost as his words sank in.
"Yes. I do," he said. "That's exactly what I think."
Katniss went from white to gray, and her knees buckled. Finnick lunged forward, supporting her shoulders with his arm. "Katniss, don't faint. Katniss, can you hear me?"
Another jabberjay screamed, this time in a young man's voice. Katniss jumped up, but Finnick kept his arm around her, restraining her. "No, it's not him – " whoever "him" was. "We're getting out of here!" The continued screams frightened Finnick, in that he realized that they might not have taken Annie alone. Whose voice would he hear next, distorted in agony – Riley's? Connor's?
Katniss, wild-eyed in panic, struggled against his grip. "It's not him, Katniss! It's a mutt!" Finnick shouted, pulling her away, out of the forest that was turning into hell. "Come on!"
His words sank in, and Katniss ran with him. Finnick was barely aware of her. He kept hearing other screams, in the depths of the woods, but he couldn't tell if they were really there or it was just his imagination. Just keep running, he thought desperately. Just keep running, and we'll be out of this living hell –
SMACK! Finnick slammed into what seemed like thin air, falling back into the tangle of vines and leaves on the floor. The force of his impact had injured his nose; warm, wet blood flowed over his upper lip. Behind the invisible barrier, he could see Peeta, trying to communicate to Katniss, and Johanna, her expression a strange mix of pain and anger, and Volts, his face drawn with sympathy. Desperately, Finnick hurled himself against the barrier again – this time with the side of his body – but it didn't give way. He hadn't expected it to. He was stuck here, trapped, transfixed –
The screams came with the birds. Annie first, of course, and the sound of her agony dropped Finnick to the ground. He couldn't fight it, couldn't stop it, and even though he pressed his hands to his ears so hard it hurt, the sound went through him like a lancet, as if he heard it not with his ears but with every pore in his skin. On and on it went, curling him into a ball, racking him with pain…
And others, too, just as he had feared. Even over the noise of Katniss's tormentors, he could still distinguish voices – Riley, Connor, Ciara, Dalia…Jim, his best friend since grade school and his kid sister Fiona…Mari, the little old woman at the market who gave him an apple every morning…
It was hard to say how long the screams went on. The clocks might have said an hour, but to Finnick it was longer. The pain had changed. No longer was it sharp, like the stab of a knife; now the screams tore him like shards of jagged glass, scorched him like fire, froze him like ice, burned him like acid. It was worse than pain – it was beyond pain – it was…death.
At last, at long last, it stopped. But Finnick couldn't move - only lie there, shivering.
"Finnick?" Johanna's voice, gentler than he'd ever heard it, fell on his ears. A violent shudder rippled through his body and he forced his eyes open.
Johanna and Volts were bending over him, each looking concerned in their way. "I'm all right," said Finnick hoarsely. His throat was raw, his eyes stinging. "I'm all right. Just give me a second – "
Clutching Volts's arm, he hauled himself to his feet. Reflexively, he coughed, gagging. The sounds of screaming still echoed in his ears…he gagged again as Volts helped him stumble out of the jungle and onto the sand.
"Finnick?" Volts's voice, quiet with concern, reminded Finnick forcibly of Riley. But of course, that only reminded him of the screams – of Riley being tortured, somewhere in the Capitol –
Spinning away from Beetee, Finnick heaved and vomited onto the sand. Hardly anything came up – it had been so long since his last meal. He continued to cough and heave uselessly, trying to purge the horror of the last hour from his body. At last, shaking and shivering, he straightened, aware that Volts was watching him sympathetically and Johanna had turned her back on him.
"Where's Katniss and Peeta?" croaked Finnick, wiping his mouth off. He wished he had water, to rinse out his mouth, but he wasn't going back in that forest. Not a chance in hell.
"Over there," said Beetee, pointing. Finnick looked and saw that Peeta was sitting, cradling Katniss in his arms like a small child.
"No, that's what they want you to think," Peeta was saying. "The same way I wondered if Glimmer's eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren't Glimmer's eyes. And that wasn't Prim's voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying."
Finnick wanted to believe him, so badly. But a small voice warned him that that was dangerous – that to fall into that temptation would be very bad indeed…
"No, they were torturing her," said Katniss dully. "She's probably dead."
"Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?"
Finnick didn't see what that had to do with anything. But he wanted so badly to believe, to cling to the spark of hope he saw in Peeta's words, that he kept listening.
"Seven more of us die," answered Katniss.
"No, back home," said Peeta. "What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?" He put his fingers under Katniss's chin, looking her in the eye. "What happens? At the final eight?"
"At the final eight?" she echoed, sounding confused. "They interview your family and friends back home?"
"That's right," answered Peeta. "They interview your family and friends. And how can they do that if they've killed them all?"
A painful internal revolution was going on inside Finnick. He barely heard Katniss's answer for the blood roaring in his ears, the pulse pounding in his throat. There was a chance…more than a chance…
Oh God, if only he knew it was true!
"Do you believe it, Finnick?" asked Katniss.
"It could be true. I don't know," he said feverishly. "Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it…" His voice died as he remembered the horrific agony of those screams.
"Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school," answered Volts.
He might have been exaggerating how easy it was, but he was right. Beetee's assurance sent a wave of relief through Finnick, one so poignant that his knees sagged. Annie was all right. She was safe. They hadn't gotten her.
"Of course Peeta's right," said Johanna. "The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands." She was entering dangerous territory… "Don't want that, do they? Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!"
Finnick stared at her, torn between admiration and fear. She could be jeopardizing everything they were doing…yet what he wouldn't give to be able to speak his mind like that.
"I'm getting water," she said shortly, and headed back into the forest. Finnick saw Katniss catch her hand, try to warn her, but Johanna shook it off, claiming there was no one the Capitol could use to hurt her. Was that true, Finnick wondered.
The ocean gleamed blue in the sunlight, enormously tempting. Finnick walked down to the beach, diving in so smoothly there was hardly a ripple. As the horror faded and the relief sank in, he became aware of a new emotion – anger. Anger at the Capitol for playing a trick like that. Despite the soothing influence of water, Finnick could feel his personality hardening, turning brittle with hatred. He wanted the damn Capitol out of his life, banished, gone. Never before had he felt so strongly against them as he did now, a loathing so strong it was like vitriol.
But it was odd, he realized. How he had never hated the Capitol like this for forcing him to become a murderer, a prostitute, for ruining Annie's mind – and yet all they had to do was play a stupid trick on him to make him abhor them from the very core of his being.
Annie was wearing pink, a beautiful silky dress with yards and yards of fabric looped around the skirt. Finnick danced happily with her, aware of the crowd of multihued penguins watching them but not particularly alarmed. He did want to kiss Annie, though – but as he bent towards her, the scene changed and the rosy glow was gone. Suddenly he was scrambling up the side of a snowy mountain, the rocks cutting his hands and feet so that a river of blood flowed from them, staining the entire side of the impossibly steep peak crimson. If he could only get to the top…Some desperate impulse drove him to keep climbing, up and up and up, even though he was deathly scared. He didn't even know why he was climbing, just that he must…or else he would die.
And then he was surrounded by monsters. If he looked directly at them, they had no discernible shape, but out of the corners of his eyes he could see them, horrid black potbellied things that danced on stubby legs and cackled and leered at him out of their wide mouths.
His terror was growing. He was scared, scared they would come and find him. Not the monsters – the monsters were minions. It was they he had to be careful of.
He kept climbing – and as he climbed his terror grew – and grew – and grew –
The sharp crack of lightning jerked him out of the nightmare, an involuntary cry escaping his lips. Panting, he looked around at the moonlit arena, clenching handfuls of sand to make sure that this was reality, not the dreamworld. Yes, it was reality. There was the Cornucopia. There were the sleeping forms of Johanna and Beetee. There was Katniss and Peeta, looking at him.
"I can't sleep anymore," Finnick said. Can't or won't? "One of you should rest." Another look made him realize that they were twined in each other's arms. "Or both of you. I can watch alone."
Peeta surprised him again by rejecting the proposal. "It's too dangerous," he said. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." He walked with her to where the others lay sleeping. Finnick stood, pacing, shaking his arms as if he could get rid of the nightmare influence that way. Damn it, it still felt real – like bits of dream were clinging to his brain. He wanted to swim, but something told him the too-warm touch of this ocean wouldn't help. He need the icy slap of District Four's waves to bring him back.
Crunching sounds in the sand warned him of Peeta's approach. "What's up, baker boy?" said Finnick casually.
Peeta snorted and stood next to Finnick, crossing his arms. "The usual. Just trying to keep Katniss alive."
"That might be hard," observed Finnick wryly. "Especially since she's trying to keep you alive at all costs, herself be damned."
"Do you think I don't know that?" said Peeta with unconscious bitterness. "How much harder it makes it for me?"
"Haymitch promised her he'd help keep you alive," said Finnick quietly.
But the information did not surprise Peeta. "He promised me he'd help keep her alive," he said grimly. "Haymitch makes a lot of promise. Whether he keeps them is far less certain."
Finnick wanted to ask Peeta about the baby, badly. Was Katniss really pregnant – were she and Peeta really in love? But those were the very last questions he should be asking with millions of deluded viewers and a vigilant Capitol watching.
"Hey, what's going on?" said Peeta suddenly.
"What?" Finnick froze, staring at him.
"I'm not stupid, you know," said Peeta. "Something's up. Some plot, something. What is it?"
Be careful, Finnick…be very, very careful in what you say…
"If there were," he said slowly, "do you think I would tell you?"
"No," said Peeta, defeated. "I guess not."
Finnick was disappointed, almost. Would Peeta really give up that easily? Or was he faking, trying to lull Finnick into a false sense of security?
"I hate this!" burst out Peeta. "I really, really hate this! How only one of us can live…"
"Yeah," said Finnick grimly. "It sucks."
Peeta sighed and kicked the sand, sending a pale plume skittering over the water. "Sometimes I wish someone would just blow the Capitol to bits so we could all live in peace."
Finnick's jaw didn't drop, but damn, it was a close thing. Peeta had played the soppy lover boy part so well, Finnick hadn't even guessed he had a bitter, darker side. Or maybe the lover boy role was true, and this was the acting? Maybe neither was false, neither true – Peeta acted kind when around Katniss, because he loved her, but when he was with Finnick he became bitter and full of angst too…
Maybe there was no such thing as personality. Maybe people were just mirrors, reflecting those around them.
Finnick watched in satisfaction as the handfuls of sand scoured off bits of flaky green ointment and dead skin. Sure it stung, but at least he didn't look like he was decomposing anymore.
"I don't know," said Peeta, looking down at his new skin. Of the three, he was the fairest, and his skin was a glowing baby pink. "I feel like we'll burn really easily."
"Let's just put more medicine on," said Katniss practically. "It ought to work as sunscreen, no problem."
Finnick made a face, only half in jest. But the ointment, applied to smooth skin, didn't have nearly the same grotesque effect: jungle spirit rather than swamp monster.
"Hey kids, come back!" called Beetee from the beach. "I think I have a plan."
It starts…now. Finnick trudged up the beach, all humor gone. Day Three was tomorrow. Everything had to be put in place today.
"I think we'll all agree our next job is to kill Brutus and Enobaria," said Beetee as they sat around him in a loose semicircle. "I doubt they'll attack us openly again, now that they're so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it's dangerous, exhausting work."
"Do you think they've figured out about the clock?" said Katniss.
"If they haven't, they'll figure it out soon enough. Perhaps not as specifically as we have…" Finnick tuned out as Beetee hypothesized what Brutus and Enobaria might be thinking. Belatedly, he realized Johanna was still asleep.
"Wait, let me get Johanna up," he said, once Beetee was finished. "She'll be rabid if the thinks she missed something this important."
Katniss said something under her breath, but Finnick ignored her. Walking over to Johanna, he prodded her - none too gently – with his toe. "Hey. Wake up."
She did, groaning, scrubbing her short hair to get sand out of it. "This better be good, pretty boy."
"It is." Finnick's tone was serious enough that she stopped b-tching and looked up at him. "Beetee's come up with a plan."
He could see from her eyes that she understood what he meant. Without further complaints, she stood and walked back with him to where Beetee sat, an open space in front of him. Finnick settled himself next to Peeta, Johanna on his other side. Crossing his legs, he watched as Beetee sketched out the arena, divided into its twelve sectors.
"If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do about the jungle, where would you feel safest?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
All this was bullsh-t, of course. The point of the plan wasn't to get the tributes from District Two, it was to blow open the forcefield so someone – Haymitch hadn't specified who – could get them out. But it had to be presented like this, for the benefit of the viewers, the Capitol, and Katniss and Peeta themselves.
"Where we are now. On the beach," said Peeta, in response to Beetee's question. "It's the safest place."
"So why aren't they on the beach?"
"Because we're here," snapped Johanna. She never could wait. If it were Johanna, the trap would have been set on Day One.
"Exactly. We're here, claiming the beach," said Beetee, ignoring her tone. "Now where would you go?"
Katniss's brow wrinkled as she thought. "I'd hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us."
"Also to eat," said Finnick, adding his spiel to the charade. "The jungle's full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I'd know the seafood's safe."
Beetee smiled, though it was a little tight to be genuine. "Yes, good. You do see. Now here's what I propose: a twelve o'clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?"
Finnick honestly tried to keep up as Beetee explained the mechanics of what they were attempting to do, but he couldn't. Even if Finnick had been smart – which he wasn't – then he still wouldn't have been able to keep up with a genius like Beetee. Beetee was the brains behind the whole rebel plan. There was no way Haymitch or Heavensbee could ever have thought something like this up.
"Don't worry about the wire," Beetee was saying. "It will do just what I say."
Finnick, struck by a sudden thought, asked, "And where will we be when this happens?"
"Far enough up in the jungle to be safe," answered Beetee.
"The Careers will be safe, too, then," said Katniss, helpfully pointing out a major hole in their cover story, "unless they're in the vicinity of the water."
Beetee was smart, but not a fast thinker. "That's right," he said.
Thankfully, Peeta saved them – albeit with another stupid comment. "But all the seafood will be cooked."
"Probably more than cooked," said Beetee. "We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good. But you found other edible things in the jungle, right, Katniss?"
"Yes. Nuts and rats." Sounded absodamnlutely delicious. "And we have sponsors."
"Well, then. I don't see that as a problem," said Beetee. "But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt it is up to you four."
Finnick watched Katniss, waiting. The success of their plan hinged on her, on this crucial moment of decision. If she didn't want to go through with it…then they were f—ked.
"Why not?" she said. Finnick hid a sigh of relief. "If it fails, there's no harm done. If it works, there's a decent chance we'll kill them. And even if we don't and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too."
"I say we try it," said Peeta – as if he would ever go against Katniss. "Katniss is right."
Finnick looked over to Johanna. She was chewing her lip, thinking the same thoughts he was. If they backed out…the plot might fail. It might not. Hopefully, the Capitol would see they had nothing to do with it and would leave them alone. If they went through with it – they were risking rebellion, capture, torture and war.
She turned her head to look at him, and he raised his eyebrows. This was the crucial moment for them, too…
"All right," she said. "It's better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they'll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves."