I'm crying so hard I can barely see, but I keep going. They'll be rounding up anybody who's left, maybe killing them, maybe using them as soldiers. Who's next? 11, home of tiny Rue? 13, hub of the rebellion? Am I running in the wrong direction? Or are they content with simply destroying the Mockingjay and her legacy?
Gone. So much is gone. A thousand moments flit back to me-my father brushing my hair off my forehead, painting me in the meadow, laughing as the sun streamed in through the window behind him. My mother tensing for a kill, one of her rare but beautiful smiles, her perched in a tree, looking down at me with an expression of pure joy. Asher, my baby brother, my beautiful boy, writing at his desk, laughing with Dad, studying the history books he so loved.
Gone, but not forgotten.
It takes two days to get to 13 running on the new road. I don't eat. It rains ash. I sob until the tears are gone. I don't think I can keep going without them. I collapse on the side of the road and scream at the sky, scream at the universe for taking them from me. The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that if I can only get to 13, August and whoever's left could be saved.
I stumble out of the woods. 13 was built underground, but now, 30 years later, there are several new buildings on the surface, mostly military stuff. I'm starving, I'm cold and sooty and probably rabid-looking. Was it only three days ago that I danced with August under the stars?
"Stop!"
I look up, a guard pointing a gun at me. Intruders are not welcome in 13, and neither are trespassers. In answer, I hold out the mockingjay pin. "I need your help," I rasp.
I don't remember what happens next. Someone puts a blanket over my shoulders and I'm led past people who stare openly at me. Words and faces blur and I'm shivering. They sit me down at a large table and make me eat something. I come into focus.
I'm sitting in a huge conference room. There are some very important people here-the mayor of 13, Lenore Perkins, two Capitol people eyeing me in awe, a pair of military heads, and two other people I don't recognize.
"Can you tell me your name?" An old man who looks like a doctor asks gently.
"Daie," I croak, then swallow hard. "Daie Primrose Everdeen."
Somebody makes a small sound, a small, pitying sound. Startled, I look around for its source. One of the Capitol people, a woman, has made it. She looks as if she has been crying.
12 is gone, I realize. Lost. Given up on. The best thing people can do now is protect themselves. The Peacekeepers are a thousand times stronger than anyone expected.
"Daie, you said you needed our help," the doctor says in the same, calm measured voice. "What can we help you with?"
"You need to save 12," I whisper, knowing it sounds silly here in this room of people who have given up on 12.
"Honey, there's nothing left to save," the Capitol woman says softly.
I look up at her sharply. "There's plenty left," I snap. "I watched it burn and I know there's still plenty left."
"What's left?" The mayor asks in a calm voice.
"People. Memories." I say helplessly. "You can't just give up on an entire District."
"Like Panem gave up on 13 in the Dark Days?" Comes a cold voice.
"They thought we were obliterated," Lenore says sharply. "You can't blame them for that, Edwards." She turns to me. "What do you want us to do?"
"Get rid of the Peacekeepers."
"And invite them to war?" the cold voice of the man named Edwards snorts.
"Shut up," I snap, furious. I jump to my feet. "I have someone I love still out there! I can't give up on people who may still be alive! Do you know what it's like to lose everything and everyone? Do you know what it's like to watch them die? I refuse to give up on them!" I shout, tears pricking my eyes. "I refuse to let them die!"
Silence. I slump back in my chair, tears pouring down my face, glaring at them all.
"Fine," Lenore says eventually. "We'll go in."
"You can't be serious," someone says.
"I'm perfectly serious," she says coolly. "You can't give up on an entire district."
"Have you seen the footage?" Someone explodes. "Nobody could've survived that?"
"If that's true," Lenore says, holding a hand out and accepting a tablet from the person next to her, "then what is this live footage showing?"
It's a video feed, an aerial shot of the ruins of 12. Shadows in complete darkness. Except for the distinctive glow of electric lights twinkling out there.
"Someone is still there, and I will abandon them when, and only when, the Peacekeepers outnumber the entire nation of Panem." Lenore says evenly. She has dark hair swept up professionally and is wearing deep blue suit with 13's crest, and is amazingly calm and collected, so clearly in charge. I stare at the image of the lights, feeling fresh tears soak my cheeks. Someone's still alive.
"What if those are just Peacekeepers?" Someone points out. My heart sinks.
"If there was nothing left, they wouldn't return to would move on to their next target," Lenore says. "Something or someone is still there. We need to move fast, before they move out. It's already been days."
Has it? Has time passed? I stare stupidly down at my food. Soup. I hadn't even noticed. It smells like home.
Lenore starts shooting out orders. By land and by hovercraft, the 13 troops will move in and engage with the hostile forces. Meanwhile a rescue team will move in and evacuate the remaining 12ers. The mission is massive and complicated, but that's the gist of it. It will take at least twenty-four hours to move out.
I realize vaguely that they are going to do this without me. And I cannot let that happen.
My bow and arrows are still slung over my shoulder. No one has taken them off, since the quiver is strapped across my chest with a buckle and the bow is plastered to my jacket with sap. They are talking, talking, talking, and no one is paying any attention to me.
"I want to go," I say, but no one listens. Frustrated, I pull my bow off my shoulder, leaving my jacket still sticky with sap, string an arrow through it, and shoot the wall across from me.
Everyone whips their head around.
"I'm going!" I yell. "You can't stop me!"
"Apparently not," Lenore says, unruffled. "Assign her to one of the rescue divisions, the young one-the 7th?"
"Done," somebody says.
"Thank you," I say, flopping back into my chair.
The doctor frowns. "That's enough for now. I want her resting and healing overnight. Come on, Daie."
He leads me down several hallways, and into a small room. He gives me something to help me sleep and stuff to wear and a shower.
I feel empty. I feel like the only thing keeping me going is the thought of seeing August again. I turn my pin over and over in my hands, crying as I fall asleep.
