Disclaimer: The Hunger Games and its characters are all property of Suzanne Collins. No profit is being made from this piece of work. No copyright infringement is intended.
11
President Paylor's head falls forward, hitting the desk with a thud. Her whole body is slouched over the table, a pool of dark blood forming over the dark oak of the desk. For the first few seconds I am numb with shock, then I start to feel regret at not looking into her eyes. Was she alive when I walked in? Was I the last thing she saw? Finally, a lump of fear sets in my chest as I realize I'm in the room with the killer.
"What-" I begin but can't think of anything to say. A soldier I haven't seen before steps behind me and slams shut the double doors, effectively blocking my exit.
"Fin!" Plutarch sounds surprised but not alarmed at me being a witness to his killing. "I thought you were downstairs with your lady friend. Madison, wasn't it?"
I swallow thickly.
"Such a shame you had to see this." Now he sounds annoyed but for a brief second he looks me in the eye and I see him pleading with me. Pleading for what? But then he blinks and it's gone. "I really didn't want to have to do this to you."
"Do what to me?" I ask. My legs are shaking now. I've never been confronted by a man with a blade in his hands. Though I've been under constant watch for the past few months, I've never felt under threat by any of my guards. Now one of them is going to stand by and watch me get murdered by my boss.
I have been an idiot coming up here. If Madison hadn't suggested I talk to Paylor I wouldn't be here right now. Madison…
She needs to know what's happened.
"I had been planning on making it seem like an anger murder," Plutarch informs me. "It could have been anybody in this building even you…" He looks hard at me again. I get the feeling he is trying to convey something to me but I can't grasp what he's trying to say. "I suppose that would be the best option now. Frame you for it and have you killed. Either way I get to be President."
I want to speak but I can't find my words.
"Television doesn't have the same power as it used to," Plutarch goes on. "If I want to get anywhere, I need to be President." He twirls the knife – blood on silver – between his fingers before thrusting it heroically in the air. "You just made my plan so much easier, Fin." His eyes are sad when he looks at me again though I can't tell if it is an act or not. "Although, I am sorry to have to get rid of you. I'd come to think of you as my own son these past few years."
I launch for him then, angry he had hinted at him being a father figure to me. The thought makes my stomach turn. I want to scratch his eyes out but at the same time I want to run away and never see him again.
Somebody else walks in then; Gale. He looks as shocked as I am at the scene.
"General, take Fin down to the cells," Plutarch orders him lazily. "He needs to be kept somewhere before his execution."
"Execution?" Gale questions.
"Of course," Plutarch nods. "After all, he murdered the President didn't he?"
Gale looks from me to Plutarch to the knife. I hope he's not so dumb as to believe the Head of Communications-turned-President but I'm not sure where Gale's loyalty lies.
"With me," he orders me gruffly, taking me by both arms and marching me out of the room. But not before he takes a last glance at President Paylor's body.
"I didn't do it," I tell Gale as soon as we get to the cells underground. The Capitol Prison is all under the ground now and is accessible from every public building. This is so anyone can go down and humiliate the criminals. As you can tell, crime isn't that popular in Panem anymore and the cells under the television building are empty save for the scurry of a rat. Our voices echo off the dull grey walls and the florescent tubes over our heads that have dimmed over time give flickering warnings that they're about to give in.
"I know," Gale says. He lets go of me and I spin round to face him.
"How did you get in?" I ask. "There was a guard blocking the door."
"I'm the General," he reminds me. "And besides, all the military are under contracts too."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Basically, I'm under oath not to report Plutarch to the Guardians," he tells me.
"Well, that's okay," I say, "Because I'm getting framed for it anyway."
I tell him this with such certainty because I have accepted it. There are no tears in my eyes because crying will do me no good now. I might cry later when I'm alone in my cell and there is nothing but my own echo to answer me and nobody to hold me but the chill of the underground air.
"You're very brave, Fin," Gale tells me and I'm suddenly aware that there are tears in his eyes. I realize that if anybody had been a father figure to me in my life it was General Gale Hawthorne as odd as it was to believe. "But I'm not going to let you get shot for this."
"What do you mean?" I ask, wishing he wouldn't give me hope. "There's nothing you can do, Gale. If you report Plutarch to the Guardians then he'll kill you."
"No, he won't kill me," Gale says with so much certainty that I believe him. "He'll kill my family."
"No!" I cry, realizing his contract must have been much different to mine. After all, I have no family left to kill. They certainly wouldn't count Nurse Everdeen.
"I won't let them," Gale promises me. "But I'm not going to let them kill you either."
"There's nothing you can do!" I repeat. I hate him because he's about to reduce me to tears and I don't want his last memory of me to be me sobbing like a baby.
"Yes there is," he tells me, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper that immediately captures my attention. "I'm going to take you to the door that leads out of the Television Tower. From there, I need you to run. I can't do anything else but I need you to try and get to District 12 and tell Katniss what is happening."
"What will happen to you?" I ask, part of me knowing I won't survive the trip to District 12 on foot.
"Don't worry about me," he orders, already dragging me down the rows of dark cells.
After walking for ten minutes, Gale leads me up a flight of stairs and through a gray door – or at least it looks grey in the little light that we have. We find ourselves in a small office on the ground floor of the Television Tower.
"My office," Gale answers my unvoiced question. "They thought it best to keep the other door to the cells near the General." He smiles as if he has told a joke and I smile back though I know it's wooden.
Gale quickly finds some paper and a pen and scribbles down a list of names. "Here's a list of people who might help you on your way. Don't trust anybody in 1 and 2," he instructs me. "And stay away from District 4. That's where they'll expect you to go."
"Won't they expect me to go to 12?" I ask.
"After Katniss reportedly nearly killed you? I doubt it," he smiles.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask, taking the paper from him. I tuck it into the back pocket of my pants, deciding to look at the list of allies later.
"Because I owe Finnick," he tells me. "And this is the only way I can pay him back. Besides," he ruffles my hair, "You've grown on me. And you're a dead ringer for him with that hair."
I duck away from him. We both share a sad smile for a second before he's hurrying me out of the back door of his office. He hugs me quickly and mumbles something to me but his voice is thick and his words are hurried. There's no time to ask him to repeat it either because then there's a knock at his third door – the one that leads to the corridors of the building meaning it could be anybody – and he's pushing me outside, slamming the door in my face.
I don't stop. I weave my way expertly through the streets. Everybody is either in their homes or on the main plaza watching the post-Games interviews and wondering where the heck I am. Taking a route through the backstreets is longer but safer. Still I itch with the need to get out of this city. I pass my apartment on the way and bid a silent goodbye to it. Juppy's newspaper stall stands empty and cold in the Main Street but I bid goodbye to it anyhow. Part of me worries for Madison but I tell myself that I have nothing to worry about. They won't kill her because there is no need and they need her because she is the mentor of the winning tribute. She is safe as long as I stay away from her.
When I hit the forest I break into a sprint, hoping to put as much distance between me and the Capitol as possible.
I don't stop running until I'm a good half mile away from the place. Then I have to stop and catch my breath. It's then that I realize how hopeless my situation is. I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on my back.
Suddenly my mind pieces together what Gale's last words were as he pushed me through the door.
Take care of Madison for me.
(*)
It's dark by the time I fall to the ground, exhausted. I'm cold, hungry and tired but I can't imagine myself sleeping on the bare ground. I think of all the wild animals that occupy these lands; the last thing I need now is to be ripped apart by some wild wolf.
I hear running water and blindly make my way over to it. The half moon reflects off the black waters making it look like running silver. I realize it is just as precious as I scoop handfuls of it to my mouth, groaning in relief as the liquid hits my dry throat. I've been walking for hours now without knowing where I am. I'm too close to the Capitol to be away from Districts 1 and 2 so there's nobody I can appeal for help to.
Next to the stream, I notice a sort of bank where a rock hangs over. It's good for cover though not exactly comfortable. As I reside there, I wonder whether the Capitol will send people looking for me. At that thought, I press myself even further into the soil. It's nice to hear the running water as I drift off to sleep. If I try hard enough, I can imagine it's the lapping of the sea in District 4…
If I look hard enough, I can see the sea outside my window. But I'm not interested in the sea right now. My little hands grip the sides of my crib. I'm screaming but nobody's listening; my diaper's wet, my bed's wet but still nobody comes. It's dark and my face hurts from being scrunched up so tightly by the time the door to my nursery is flown open and Nurse Everdeen comes rushing in.
"Oh, you poor baby," she coos, lifting me up and holding me tightly to her. I scream louder then because she's not who I'm looking for. Where is she?
Nurse Everdeen carries me down the stairs, jostling me but it is of little comfort. The person who I'm looking for is sat in the living room, staring out to sea. My crying stops when I see her over Nurse Everdeen's shoulder and I reach out to her.
She doesn't acknowledge me.
"Not now, Fin," Nurse Everdeen soothes, placing me down on my changing mat. I can't see anything but the ceiling now and I start howling again, "Mommy's not well, sweetheart."
There's no blurring effect or darkening light. The image changes rapidly and I'm now sat in my highchair, my food bowl tipped over in my distress, mush everywhere. My mother stares down at me, her eyes – identical to mine – don't seem to see me. I cry louder but still she stands there, unmoving.
Can she not see me? Why isn't she reacting? Only a moment ago she was feeding me and then she just…went. Even banging my fist – an action I've learned annoys her – doesn't bring her back to me.
Nurse Everdeen walks in eventually as she always does. She holds my mother by the shoulders and shakes her. Mother cries. I cry even more because I don't want Mommy to be hurting.
I even wake up from the repressed memories with tears in my eyes. The warm sun seeps through the trees, waking my body up. I flex my fingers. It's the second day and I'm still alive; so far so good.
Lying on my back and looking up at the blue sky between the tree tops, I think of the Tributes in the Hunger Games. If they could find food so easily and survive on so little then maybe I stand a chance of getting to District 12 after all.
I realize I'm not good at hunting as soon as I begin. My footing is too heavy and I soon scare off any prey I would have hoped to have caught. Still, even if I didn't scare that beaver away, I didn't think I had the guts to kill it with my bare hands as I'd seen 1M do before he was killed.
But I can't continue on foot without having anything to eat. I decide to follow the stream as it's useful to keep a source of water close by. After a few hours of walking and stomach rumbling, something in the water catches my eye. I stop and stare for a few minutes before deciding it was just a trick of the light. But before I start moving again, I see another movement and another.
Fish.
They're not big fish like we catch in District 4 but still they are something and I drop to my knees, plucking them easily out of the water and onto the land next to me. I used to catch them like this all the time when I was little. Mother would be out with the boat and the net and I would stay near the shore, paddling.
I also know fish can be eaten raw. They don't taste as good but they are a good source of protein and water at the same time. I don't even notice the taste as I gobble them down.
It feels good to finally have some food in me and I continue walking.
The next week is pretty much the same. I eat and drink from the stream and sleep near its banks so I'm relatively out of sight should a hovercraft come flying over. My clothes are filthy but still in good nick by the time I encounter my first danger.
I stumble out of a patch of long grass to find myself face to face with a gray she-wolf. Her fur is gray and her eyes are black. She pulls her lip up in a snarl, revealing her sharp teeth. For a second, I stand there. I have no fear about my life ending this way only annoyance. I made it all this way in the wilderness to be killed by some wolf?
I think about fighting her but my options are slim. There are no weapons available and even if there were I wouldn't know how to use them. I've lived a sheltered life and never wanted for anything apart from my mother's attention. I don't know how to fight.
Before I collapse to the ground in defeat, something flies through the air, over my head and hits the wolf. She gives out a yelp but I don't see whether she's dead or not because something leaps onto my back, pushing me to the ground and knocking me out cold.