10
In only a matter of days, the situation in District Twelve goes from bad to worse.
The mines are closed for two weeks, and half the district is starving because of food shortages. Even people with money leave the town stores with nothing. When the mines finally reopen, Yukito tells me wages have been drastically cut, the hours have been extended, and miners are sent into much more dangerous work sites. When Parcel Day comes, the promised food delivered to the district for a year because of Sakura and I winning the games is spoiled and infested with rodents.
If that weren't bad enough, Kouji puts the new torture and punishment installations in the square to good use. Many people are dragged into the square and punished for offenses so long overlooked we'd forgotten they were illegal. As a result, I forbid Sakura from going into town by herself, much to her agitation. But better safe than sorry because I'm not sure the fact that she's a victor will get her out of trouble if she happens to do something in front of the wrong peacekeeper. Not even I will risk going into town very often.
When I do go into town, no one talks to me. No one talked to me much before, but they don't even acknowledge my existence now. The only one who will associate with me is Kameha. With nothing better to do, even after Toya was sent home, Sakura and I have taken to assisting her. With so many being punished, Kameha has no shortage of patients. Sakura and I do our best to help Kameha keep her supplies stocked, but even for us that becomes difficult. Soon all Kameha will have to help her patients is snow.
Then one morning, a crate arrives from the Capitol full of Tomoyo's design for her new fashion line for teens. I think they're for Sakura since she's the one that agreed to model, but a note from Sonomi accompanying the crate says that President Wang has personally requested that I assist her since his granddaughter is so fond of me.
As soon as I read it, I wordlessly set the note on the table, pull on some boots, put on a jacket, and make my way to the woods.
Needless to say, going to the woods is strictly forbidden. It was forbidden before, but back then we didn't get whipped for it. Still, it's the only place I can go to release some of my frustration, even as tainted as the calm serenity of the woods is now after the Magic Games.
After I listen for the hum of the electric fence, cross it, and make sure to cover my tracks, I wonder what the president thinks he can gain from all this, parading his star-crossed lovers in front of the districts when it's obvious there's nothing Sakura and I can do to stop what's happening. On the way into the woods, I retrieve my bow and arrows and head for the lake since this is probably the last time I'll be able to risk coming out here again.
I'm so lost in my own thoughts I miss the footprints in the ground. But as I come closer to the lake, the unmistakable smell of a burning fire invades my senses. And when I come up upon the house, I see a thin stream of smoke coming from the chimney. I'm a few yards from the door, bow and arrow at the ready, when I hear a click of a gun behind me. I turn on my feet and raise my bow and arrow.
Upon seeing the white peacekeeper uniform, I narrow my eyes, ready to do what's necessary to get out of the woods alive, especially if this peacekeeper is alone. What's a peacekeeper's life when I've killed innocent people before?
To my surprise, even as my arrow is pointed at the woman's dark brown eye, the peacekeeper drops the gun.
"Stop!" she cries, holding out one of her hands.
I mentally waver, though my arrow is steady. Why would a peacekeeper drop their gun on me, especially after watching the Magic Games last summer? Even against a peacekeeper with their gun, the odds are more than in my favor. So I glance down at the woman's hand. She's holding a flat cracker like piece of bread in her hand. It's gray and soggy around the edges, but the image in the center is clear.
The seal of the moon guardian.
My senses tell me she means no harm, that this symbol means this woman means me no harm. I still don't lower my bow. I want to hear it out her mouth.
"What does it mean?"
"It means we're on your side," another female voice says from behind me.
She must have been in the house, which is why I didn't see her when I came up. I figure she's not going to shoot me. Not just because the sound of the gun clicking would make me release my arrow on her friend, but because she could have shot me before she blew the advantage she had over me because I didn't know she was there.
Therefore I turn sideways and back away so I can get both in view. The other on female, a girl around my age is also wearing an oversized peacekeeper uniform with a white fur cloak. There's no weapon in her hand, but she is using a broken branch as a crutch. She drags herself and her injured right leg closer to the older woman as I continue to observe them and then I decide.
These two are no peacekeepers.
"Who are you?" I ask, lowering my bow and arrow, but keeping it ready anyway. If there's one thing the Magic Games taught me, it's that I can't be too careful.
"I'm Leung," the middle aged woman says and then points to the girl. "This is Amoy! We're from District Eight!"
I lower my bow completely now. They've run away because of the uprisings. I'm not volunteering to them that I know that though, at least not until they tell me themselves. These really could still be peacekeepers sent to play on the fact that Chiharu was from District Eight.
"Where'd you get the uniforms?"
"I stole them," Amoy admits, "from the factory. It's so big because it was for someone else."
"The gun is from a dead peacekeeper," Leung adds before I can ask.
I've don't enough pretending in the last few months to know that these two aren't acting and lower my bow completely now, eyes now trained on the hand of Leung's that's still holding the bread.
"Why is that seal on the bread?"
I don't know, but part of me suspects because President Wang warned Sakura about it, because Sakura admitted that she's very aware of what it means to the districts. The light that shines the way and the guardian who protects the light.
"Don't you know, Yue," Amoy asks and I'm not surprised she recognizes me. Who else would be with my long pale hair and holding an arrow at them?
"It's the seal on my earring," I reply as though oblivious to its more subtle meaning.
"He doesn't know," Leung says. "Maybe not about any of it."
"I know about the uprisings," I finally admit.
"Yes!" Leung says, suddenly appearing hopeful. "That's why we had to get out!"
"Now what?" I ask.
"Now what?" Amoy asks.
"What will you do now that you're out?" I elaborate.
"We're going to District Thirteen," Leung says.
"District Thirteen," I state, not adding that it's a pointless venture since the Capitol bombed it seventy-five years ago. Rather than say that though, I look at Amoy's leg.
Seeing where I'm looking, the girl says, "The boots are too big and I twisted my ankle."
"Give me your gun," I say to Leung.
She unhesitatingly picks it up off the ground and hands it over. I unstring my arrow and put it back in my quiver and then wordlessly lead the two into the house. Amoy practically falls onto the floor next to the fire, her leg probably about ready to give out on her anyway. Leung sits next to her, grabbing the girl's hands in her own, trying to use her own body heat to warm the girl in addition to holding them by the fire. The fire is already going and sitting in the ashes is a tin gallon can torn in half with pine needles and steaming water.
"We saw someone do it on the Magic Games a few years back," Amoy says through her shivering when she sees me looking at it. "We're not really sure what it is though."
Chiharu told me about District Eight in the Magic Games, how it was an ugly urban place stinking of industrial fumes, the people housed in run-down tenements, and magic almost as rare there as it is in District Twelve. I didn't realize how true her description was and how much worse it was then I imagined until I went there. Barely a blade of grass in sight. No opportunity to ever learn the ways of nature and nowhere to try to practice magic without the watchful eyes of peacekeepers. It's a miracle these two have made it this far, though they don't look like they'll make it much further, especially not Amoy. She looks malnourished enough as it is, and being hungry and injured is a fatal combination. I have firsthand experience with that.
"We took what food we could before we ran, but it's been so scarce. We ran out a while back," Leung adds.
This is the second or third time the two have attempted to fill the silence, and I begin to realize that I might be intimidating them by my quiet observation of them. I decide to put them at ease as much as I can.
I drop my bag and reveal the food that I stuffed in my bag. Though Sakura probably suspected where I was going and won't say anything if asked, I purposely wanted to give her an excuse to throw Toya and Clow or even a peacekeeper off if they ask where I disappeared to in order to buy some time. They can assume I took whatever we had in surplus of food to Kameha for her, her daughter, and the patients she has every day, even though Sakura and I took some things to her just yesterday.
Wordlessly, I take out two buns of bread and sit on the floor with them. Then I hand them both a piece bread.
Amoy looks at the offered bread in awe.
"The whole thing?" she asks.
I barely nod before she snatches the bread out my hand and begins to eat. When Amoy nearly chokes herself, I mutter that it's better to chew, but after who knows how long of starving the girl can hardly stop herself. When their tea is done, Leung give me two tin cups to pour them some into. Once they're done with the bread, I tell them I'll give them more once I'm sure their bodies can handle it.
Then I say, "Tell me everything."
The two do so without hesitation.
Since Sakura's and my Magic Games, the discontent in District 8 had been growing. It was always there to some degree, but what differed was that talk was no longer sufficient, and the idea of taking action went from a wistful thinking to a reality. The textile factories that service Magea are loud with machinery, and the din allowed word to pass safely, a pair of lips close to an ear, words unnoticed, unchecked. Leung taught at school, Amoy was one of her pupils, and when the final bell had rung, both of them spent a four-hour shift at the factory that specialized in the Peacekeeper uniforms. It took months for Amoy, who worked in the inspection dock, to secure the two uniforms, a boot here, a pair of pants there. They were intended for Leung and her husband because once the uprisings began it would be crucial to get word of it out beyond District 8 if it were to spread and be successful.
The day Sakura and I made our Victory Tour appearance was actually a rehearsal. People in the crowd positioned themselves according to their teams, next to the buildings they would target when the rebellion broke out. The plan was to take over the centers of power in the city like the Justice Building, the Peacekeepers' Headquarters, and the Communication Center in the square. And at other locations in the district: the railroad, the granary, the power station, and the armory.
Our Victory Tour interview with Makato Fukui, while Sakura was gushing over a promise ring I supposedly gave her, was the perfect cover. The interview was mandatory viewing and gave the people of District 8 a reason to be out on the streets after dark, gathering either in the square or in various community centers around the city to watch. Ordinarily such activity would have been too suspicious. Instead everyone was in place by the appointed hour, eight o'clock, when the seal of the moon guardian when up in the sky, masks were put on, and all hell broke loose.
Taken by surprise and overwhelmed by the numbers, the Peacekeepers were initially overcome by the crowds. The Communication Center, the granary, and the power station were all secured. As the Peacekeepers fell, weapons were appropriated for the rebels. There was hope that this had not been an act of madness, that if they could get the word out to other districts, an actual overthrow of the government in the Capitol might be possible.
But then peacekeepers began to arrive by the thousands. Hovercrafts bombed the rebel strongholds into ashes. In the chaos that followed, all anyone could do was make it back to their homes alive. It took less than forty-eight hours to subdue the city. Then, for a week, there was a lockdown. No food, no coal, everyone forbidden to leave their homes. The only time the television showed anything but static was when the suspected instigators were hanged in the square. Then one night, as the whole district was on the brink of starvation, came the order to return to business as usual.
That meant school for Leung and Amoy. A street made impassable by the bombs caused them to be late for their factory shift, so they were still a hundred yards away when it exploded, killing everyone inside — including Leung's husband and Amoy's entire family.
"Someone must have told the Capitol that the idea for the uprising had started there," Leung tells me faintly.
The two fled back to Leung's, got the peacekeeper suits, gathered what provisions they could, stealing freely from neighbors they now knew to be dead, and made it to the railroad station. In a warehouse near the tracks, they changed into the Peacekeeper outfits and, disguised, were able to make it onto a boxcar full of fabric on a train headed to District 6. They fled the train at a fuel stop along the way and traveled on foot. Concealed by woods, but using the tracks for guidance, they made it to the outskirts of District 12 two days ago, where they were forced to stop when Amoy twisted her ankle.
"Did anyone follow you?" I ask first.
Leung shakes her head and says, "They think we're dead."
"What are you hoping to find at District Thirteen?" I then ask, not at all condescending and admittedly genuinely curious. I can't be condescending if I wanted to. If Sakura and Toya had agreed to run away, my plan was to head in that direction.
"We don't know," Leung admits.
I don't want them to be disappointed when they get there, so I try to remind them that nothing's there except rubble.
"We've all seen the footage," I add.
"That's just it!" Leung says. "They've been using the same footage of District Thirteen since anyone can remember."
I furrow my eyebrows at this and taking this as a sign to go on, Leung adds, "You know how they always show the Justice Building? If you look very carefully, you'll see it. Up in the far right-hand corner."
"See what?" I ask.
"A bird. Not sure what bird exactly, but a glimpse of the exact same bird as it flies by. Every time," Leung emphasizes.
"Back home, we think they keep reusing the old footage because the Capitol can't show what's really there now," says Amoy.
I can't help my condescending tone as I say, "And you're going to District Thirteen based on that? What do you expect, a bustling city with people strolling around and the Capitol doesn't mind?"
"No," Leung says, unfazed. "We think the people moved underground when everything on the surface was destroyed. We think they've managed to survive. And we think the Capitol leaves them alone because, before the Dark Days, District Thirteen's principal industry was nuclear development."
"They were graphite miners," I say, but even as I do something feels wrong about it.
"They had a few small mines, but not enough to justify a population of that size. That, I guess, is the only thing we know for sure," says Leung.
Any other person would immediately latch onto this, the hope that there might be somewhere beyond Magea's reach. But the natural cynic that I am causes me to reject the idea. In fact, the idea angers me.
"Then why haven't they helped us?" I ask. "Almost everyone starves to death, people are killed for no reason, and the Capitol is already gearing up for the next Magic Games. What are they waiting on?"
"We don't know," Amoy whispers. "Right now, we're just holding on to the hope that they exist."
All their family and friends are dead and they had to flee the only home they didn't want to be caught and killed too. Of course they'd cling to the hope that there's help somewhere. And who am I to crush it?
Finally, I sigh and say, "Give me your leg."
That said, I begin to help Amoy brace her ankle. When that's done, I transfer all the food in my pack into Leung's bag. Then I take her out and explain to her how to hunt since her gun can convert solar power to deadly rays. When she shoots her first rabbit, the things is practically charred, but it's better than nothing. I show her how to skin and clean it. She'll get the hang of it. Once that's done, to both Leung's and Amoy's amazement, I use a combination of snow and magic to fashion a more efficient crutch for Amoy. While doing all this, they ask for details about the situation in District Twelve, apparently thinking this might be important if there really is something in District Thirteen. Though I'm cynical about the entire thing, part of me wishes I could go with them. But I can't leave Sakura and Toya here.
When it's late in the afternoon, I have to leave. When I tell them as much, the two almost tackle me to the ground as they embrace and thank me.
"I can't believe we got to meet you," Amoy says after she briefly laments not being able to meet Sakura. "You're all anyone has been talking about since—"
"I volunteered for the Magic Games," I reply tiredly. The Capitol hardly lets me forget it.
I let my feet guide me as I trek back through the woods towards District Twelve even as it begins to snow again, the frustration I put aside earlier in favor of helping Leung and Amoy coming back to me. President Wang has obviously played Sakura and me. Nothing can quell this. Not a romance. Not a wedding. Not whatever else the Capitol intends us to do for the rest of our lives to keep up this charade. Sakura's and my willingness to die for each other might have been just a spark, but we had no way to control the fire that resulted.
And yet I have to wonder, if President Wang has been lying to us about quelling the rebellion, then why can't he be lying to us about District Thirteen? Why couldn't the people be living underground, unable to be touched by the Capitol somehow? And if they have weapons, why haven't they helped us? What are they waiting for?
Suddenly the answer to my questions come to me. Of course, it's all dependent on if District Thirteen exists, but I know what it's like to want to save something, to want to protect something, but not being able to because what you want to save is the very thing in the way. It's extremely difficult, close to impossible, to protect or save someone or something that doesn't want to be protected. I know. Because every time Sakura has refused my protection, there's nothing for me to do except adjust and wait for her want me to. Case in point: running away from District Twelve. The Districts are the same way. They rather live in fear of the Capitol with a slim chance of survival than rebel and risk total obliteration like District Thirteen, or so the story goes. But when Sakura and I were willing to risk our lives to save each other and came out alive, when it looked like we got our happily ever after… We gave the Districts the same thing Sakura says President Wang told her she gave me. A cause. Something bigger than themselves.
Something to die for.
And if I didn't know it before, I know now that things are about to get much worse.
I put my bow and arrows away on a hollow log and then begin to make my way toward the fence. I start to make my way into the meadow when the screech of an owl catches my attention and snaps me out my thoughts, just in time for me to become aware of the fact that the fence is humming with electricity.
AN: One of the questions I always ask myself when writing this story is "What would Yue do as opposed to Katniss?" And I really had to ask myself this question in this chapter, because while Yue somewhat plays Katniss' role, on the other hand he doesn't. They both have very different motives, motives that for Yue aren't really separate from each other like Katniss' were. So while it's not totally overt, how Yue reacts to this as compared to Katniss (and the differences are subtle) has a very very different effect on the rest of the story. Differences I can't wait for you to read.
Remember I ask for at least 2 review before I post the next chapter. When I get that many, I'll post the next chapter within 24-72 hours (one to three days) it just depends on how long it takes me to prep the chapter for updating. Of course, more reviews will make me get to prepping a chapter to be updated a little faster, but I'm asking for at least two.
Remember, reviews do motivate me to keep writing and not move on to other projects. I write for me, but I write for you too and your excitement and reactions urge me on. So review please.