She had visited District Seven on her tour, but Katniss must not have visited this portion of the district. The cedar trees that circled the market, the small, log buildings that housed shops and homes alike, it all demanded to be remembered. With several hundred protestors gathered in the market, angry and ready to do anything for change, Katniss could not help but think how quickly all the lumber that surrounded her could go up in flames.
Boggs pointed to the very center of the market, where a raised platform broke the otherwise flat terrain. The single wooden pole and the noose told her what her stage's true purpose was. Katniss shuddered. Boggs seemed unaffected. "We just need to get you there, have you say a few words, and get out of here."
Katniss laughed, hoping it sounded less nervous than she felt. "It all sounds so simple when you say it that way."
"Come on, I think we have an opening." Finnick plucked his trident from the ground and started into the crowd, and Katniss quickly followed. Even in the sea of bodies, Finnick's size allowed him to push his way through. "Where are all the guards? You would think that they'd have all the Peacekeepers in the district putting this down."
"Maybe they're trying to contain the rioting here, or maybe there are protests other places as well," she suggested.
"I suggest we be careful and keep a watchful eye out. I don't like this," said Boggs from behind her.
"Over here." Finnick tugged on her arm, and Katniss half-walked, half-stumbled into a clear patch of grass. Immediately before her stood the gallows, and she hesitated for an instant before stepping up onto the platform. She rubbed sweaty palms against the fabric of her shirt and swallowed away the lump in her throat, but only a handful in the crowd watched her. Katniss stared blankly at them, trying to think of something, anything, she could say. "Tell them about District Twelve," Finnick said, and Katniss glanced down at Boggs to see him nodding in agreement.
She looked back out at the crowd. "I want to tell you about what King Coriolanus and his men have done to District Twelve," she shouted. A few more faces turned towards her, and she heard a few excited whispers when the protestors realized who had addressed them. "He burned it! He burned it until now all that is left of District Twelve is ash and memories!" Her throat went dry, and a tear dripped off her face to the boards below. All around her, the crowd had swelled and surged. She could hear demands for justice for Twelve, for everyone that the king and his government had wronged. Anger twisted the faces of the protestors into horrifying masks, and from her vantage point above the crowd, she could see the glimmering edges of a hundred axes ready to be used without thought of the consequences that would await their owners.
It was beautiful. Unplanned words flowed through her violently, like water overpowering a broken dam. She saw the fear in the eyes of a Peacekeeper. "Make sure my message reaches the king. He can torture us, or enslave us, or kill us, but if we burn, he with us!" Katniss tasted victory as she raised her hand over her head and saw the gesture echoed a thousandfold. Determination settled in her stomach. He would burn. She would personally guarantee it. Even watching King Coriolanus swing like a broken doll from the noose above her would not be enough.
A shrill scream cut through the crowd. Katniss' braid slapped against her face as she spun towards the source of the sound. Her breath caught. Orange licks of flame curled from the roof of the shop, sparks flying in all directions. In only seconds, the fire had spread to the next building, and Katniss finally understood. Her hands flew to her quiver, and her bow was cocked before she had even spotted a target, but before she could find a Peacekeeper, strong hands pulled her from her pedestal. "What are you thinking?" Finnick hissed. "You're the biggest prize of all to them. Run!"
She tried to protest, but before she could come up with a good reason for her to stay and punish the Peacekeepers for Twelve and now Seven, he had thrown her over his shoulder and begun to carry her away from the square. Finnick muscled his way through the crowd, kicking a stand out of his way as he pushed towards the treeline. All around them, people clawed at each other in a desperate attempt to escape. Smoke filled the market, and Katniss clenched her eyes closed and focused on breathing. She could do little else.
Her lungs burned, but the pain was not enough to block the terrible thought that came to her. Katniss' eyes flew open. "Finnick? Where are the others?"
The man kept moving, but Katniss could feel that his shoulders had tensed beneath her. "We'll see them on the other side. Johanna will have gotten them out."
"We'll wait for them near the horses," Boggs added.
Katniss felt a pang of guilt that she had not even considered whether or not he had escaped the blaze, but she quickly pushed it away. "Put me down."
"Are you going to run away and try to play hero?" Finnick asked. She paused. "Then no."
"Put me down! Don't you care about them? Do you want them to die in there?"
Finnick's grip on her legs tightened to the point where it was almost painful. "I'm not going to throw away my own life in a foolish attempt at a rescue when we don't know that Annie and Peeta are in danger." She wished she could see more than his back to know if the strain in his voice was due to exertion or a desire to go back there himself. Glancing at Boggs, she realized she would have no allies in this argument. Katniss slumped against Finnick and waited, hoping they would escape alive.
Smoke still lingered in the air, but at least now she felt that she could breathe. Finnick lowered her to the ground, and Katniss immediately turned to see flames devouring District Seven. "Will it spread to the forests?" she asked, gazing at the thick green canopy above.
"The horses are a ways out still, assuming no one from Seven has found them. We'll have time to get out of here and find the others." Katniss mentally added a hopefully onto the end of Boggs' sentence.
When they did find the horses, much of the supplies they had packed were missing, but Katniss could not blame Seven's survivors. She would have done the same. The three of them decided that all they could do now was wait. She had long ago learned that everyone had their own way of dealing with terrible waits. Boggs paced. Finnick fiddled with a short piece of rope, tying and untying knots faster than she had thought possible. She curled her knees up to her chest and watched them.
Seconds crept into minutes, and minutes morphed into hours. Once in a while, they would spot a few escapees from Seven. Boggs would offer them a few supplies and give them instructions to reach the Llawen camp before sending them on their way. Eventually, the last of the stragglers passed. The fires had largely burned themselves out, no longer adding an added orange tinge to the dusky evening. It was Boggs who put words to everybody's thoughts. "I don't think they're coming. We'd best head out."
Finnick's hands never strayed from his knots. "We won't get far before dark. There's no reason to leave here when they might still be coming."
"I'm not certain we have enough supplies to get back to camp as it is. If we wait another day, we'll have even less. It's best to leave now."
No, don't make me give up on Peeta. "They could still be coming. Maybe they lost Johanna and can't find their way back."
Boggs gave them both a stern look, but his eyes were gentle. "If they can't find the horses, they will have started back for camp. We might find them on the way." His words were comforting, but Katniss knew he didn't believe them.
She stood up and squared her shoulders. "We have more than enough supplies to get to the Capitol." Boggs and Finnick both stilled, watching her, waiting for her to continue. "There's only three of us. We could sneak in, get to the palace. We could make the king pay for what he did here today." Already, Finnick was nodding along, and she sensed it would take little pressure to get Boggs' agreement as well. King Coriolanus would pay for Seven and Twelve, of that, she was certain.