CHAPTER SEVEN: REGRET IS UNPROFESSIONAL
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: The title is taken from a quote said by "M" in the James Bond film SKYFALL, ©2012.)
~ Vera Scheveningen, Allies: Devon Carter (District Five), Cassie Bedistor (District Three) ~
"So, I take it that Leah Alder got out of the tunnel as well as Astrid." Enobaria nods. "Did Astrid suspect?"
"Not at that point. She was concentrating so hard upon surviving the early stages of Fornacis that the later ones were 'on her back burner', so to speak." Noticing the dark pun in her statement, I cringe. "This is an advantage and a weakness. As we both know, the bloodbath is the most horrific part of the Hunger Games. There's no time for strategizing. Furthermore, with the dimness of the 'foundry' making it hard for everyone to see, we could hardly tell our friends from our foes. Astrid and I were lucky, but we heard a few tributes weeping over the allies they'd accidentally killed. That made it easier to locate and kill them."
Did I just get hit in the face with a brick? It sure feels like it, but it's not Astrid who's doing the hitting.
"Are you kidding me?" I ask Enobaria.
"You forget: In the Hunger Games, and especially for Careers, regret is unprofessional. We're trained to kill, just as other people are trained to sew uniforms in District Eight, or shovel manure in Ten. It's nothing personal, or at least it shouldn't be. What's the difference between what we do and any other occupation?"
"Other occupations, with the possible exception of Peacekeepers, aren't based on death and violence."
"Oh-ho! Point taken, Scheveningen, but why do you say possible? When you get right down to it, and push comes to shove, Peacekeepers don't keep the peace at all. They arrest suspects with impunity, and often without warning. Once they take these alleged criminals into custody, do you think they feed them caviar and champagne? Beatings, cramped cells, intense interrogations, and sleep deprivation are their daily bread." Putting the flashlight directly up against her square-jawed face, so that I'm sure to see it, Enobaria goes on: "Besides, why are you acting like you're such a saint? I may have slain more than you, but you're also a murderer."
"I regret mine, and you don't!" I slap both hands over her mouth, remembering too late to be quiet.
"Impressive, Vera. You've just condemned both of us, unless someone at the Capitol who monitors the Victors' Village is asleep at the switch." Almost before I can react, Enobaria reaches across her bed and grabs me. We wrestle against one another, slapping and scratching, but the senior victor quickly gains the upper hand. "Do you yield?" she growls, with her knees on my chest. I nod, and she climbs off. "Now, you listen here. Just because I've been trained not to feel regret for what I've done doesn't mean I don't. See this cut you've given me on my face?" She traces it with a finger and rubs sticky fluid on my nose. "What's that? It's not water. It's blood, and you know full well that underneath all this killer's sinew, I'm still human."
Vanquished, I look up at Enobaria and blink. "Is that why you didn't kill me just now, or is it only because I have the ability to speak to Astrid?" My opponent recoils, and I instantly rue what I've just said. "Wait!"
"No. Never apologize for what you believe, and fighting for it - even if it's slightly misguided." When she shines the flashlight in her face again, the streak I've gouged in her right cheek is black instead of red. Despite our cover being blown in front of any security devices, Enobaria pulls a tube of antibiotic ointment out of her nightstand drawer just as carefully as she would have if we were still completely safe. As she applies it to the cut, I want to help her, but restrain myself. I'm afraid that she'll try to attack me again.
"I'm sorry, Enobaria. Now we're both going to get hauled off to an insane asylum, and it's all my fault."
"Perhaps not. I have a certain amount of influence as one of the most popular victors of all time, and most feared. Still, it might not be enough to keep us out of the loony bin if the Capitol really wants us there." She sighs, weary not just of the Games and our encounter, but seemingly of the world itself. "You know what? Perhaps this whole situation with Astrid is merely my guiltmanifesting itself, and nothing more. Regret may not char a fly or blow out a candle of its own volition, but I can't think of anything else that would. Maybe I did those things and don't even remember them, because my mind was floating off somewhere else. Goodness knows it has been over the past several months. I'm trying not to think about mentoring, although another Reaping Day is coming up soon. What about you? Has your regret done anything?"
"Other than give me nightmares about Cassie Bedistor, an ally from District Three that I killed? Not at all."
Silence. "Did you betray her, like I did Miss Burya?" asks Enobaria in a reserved voice.
"In a way. One of the other tributes, the tall and muscular boy from District Twelve, took her hostage. I had a long-range battery-powered whip. Before I could use it on him, he grabbed Cassie and told me to run."
"Why didn't you?"
"He was an expert in throwing knives, being an illegal hunter. I didn't want to turn my back to him. I tried to take him out with my weapon, being the only electrified one out of the whole Cornucopia supply, but I missed and electrocuted Cassie instead." I fight back tears. "I didn't even get revenge. Two killed him."
"You mean one of the Careers from District Two." I nod. "We're incredibly good at handling retards."
That word crawls under my skin. "He was a person, just like you, and - oh, what's the use? I hated him!"
"Now we're getting somewhere, both of us, but I would like to get back to Leah Alder. I chose her because those such as I learned two proverbs as soon as we could talk: Two are better than one, and don't put all your eggs in one basket. Leah was a hedge bet, one that I believed I could trust, and could also defeat."
"Like me?" Once more, I feel like a sniveling child in front of Enobaria instead of one of her peers.
"Yes, like you, although Leah had far more physical strength. Your brilliance lay in your strategy, Vera."
For some reason, I'm not in the mood for compliments, so I look her in the eye. She holds my gaze.
A harsh knocking, as loud as if the door were going to be splintered, interrupts both of our thoughts.
