Chapter Twenty-Five

Furious preparations are thrown into place. Knives are sharpened, and those who lost weapons are making them from sticks and stones. We've begun the hike to the train tracks, and know that we're on the right track as a train piled to the top with weapons pass by. I don't think they saw us – we were concealed in the trees and with that thing going at a hundred miles per hour, they probably didn't see a finger here, a strand of hair there.

District Two makes weapons for the Capitol. So they're still active. I can only hope and pray that it's all we've got left.

Waiting is hard. Every day it's exactly the same. Wake up. Forage for our meals. Eat. Wait. Forage. Eat. Wait. Forage. Eat. Wait. Sleep. Wake up. And the cycle starts all over again.

Eventually, after about two weeks, we finally start hearing the footsteps. Thousands of people can't keep their silence completely. I motion to Chime, who passes down the gesture. As one, we start moving.

I burst through the final break of trees and there he is, bandage over one shoulder, cuts and bruises on his face, shirt torn at the edge. But I recognize him. His piercing eyes, widening in shock as I dash up to him, and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Sage," I murmur.

Everyone's looking at me, but I don't care. I look behind me and see Chime standing nervously beside a tree, the shadows of the rebellion behind her. Sage laughs and waves them forwards. "What're you waiting for?" he asks. "Chime, Felia, Clarity, come on! We've got a Capitol to take down!"

Then he frowns quizzically as if remembering something. "Aryn…" he says slowly. "Where's Amy?"

I don't answer. My silence is enough to answer him.

"Well… that's a bit of a problem," he says, frowning.

"No kidding," I agree gravely. Amy is the last thing I want to think about. I put my mouth right next to Sage's ear and whisper to him silently. "Amy had a last request. To take down the Capitol. To make sure that her death wasn't a waste. Please, Sage. Do this. For her. For Maybelle."

His eyes flash dangerously. "Of course I would do that, Aryn! Do you think I would abandon you?"

"Just saying," I reply, drawing back. "To give you something to think about. When you absolutely cannot go on, think about Amy and how she gave her life so that I would live. As a reminder."

"Alright," he agrees quietly. Turning back to face the rebellion, he shouts out, "People of Panem, the districts, the rebellion, our leader Aryn Rosalina has joined us once more!"

The crowd roars in happiness, delight, and excitement as I hold up my hands and yell, "It's time to take down the Capitol, brick by brick! Let us avenge our dead brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends! We shall not back down no matter what dangers we face! The Capitol shall back down… NOW!"

The cries nearly deafen my ears and I charge forwards, knife in hand. Following the train tracks, I dash a few meters beside them, always keeping the ruins of the district at my back. The Rocky Mountains are right in front of me now, as I give in another spurt of energy…

The guards are simply overwhelmed by the sheer number of rebels. Arrows fire over the crowds as they take down the tiny number of Peacekeepers. Bodies fall, the newly shed blood of a new war, trampled underneath the feet of both Peacekeepers and rebels alike. We storm into the Capitol, and the real fight begins.

I sink my knife into a shiny silver uniform, and dodge a fist as it comes swinging at my face but take a kick to the thigh instead. I crumple to the ground, roll over, and throw my knife into the face of yet another Peacekeeper. He keels over, dead, and I grab my knife and pull it out of his skull. It's like this every time. Dodge, attack, get hit, recover, run. I love every second of it, because every life gone accounts for the deaths of the rebels. Holly. Maybelle. Amy…

We charge up the streets of the Capitol, yelling. Citizens scream and bang their windows shut, but we don't care about them. The Peacekeepers are their bodyguards. Without them, they are nothing but a bunch of cowardly dyed mice waiting for death.

We take over street after street, and it seems that we are almost winning, that the Peacekeeperes are less dense, that maybe we have finally won the battle for freedom, when the first bomb hits.

The blast hits me in the ribs, and I fly backwards, hitting my head on the edge of a fountain. Its cold water sprays me over the face as I clamber up. Nuclear, I think.

The bombs are raining down on us as the Capitol gives off its last burst of weapons, a desperate hope to reclaim its land. I can only sit in the water and watch helplessly as the number of rebels die down. Helicopters, hovercrafts, planes, they dip down and scoop up thousands of rebels at a time, undoubtedly shipping them back to their various districts. I'm watching my whole rebellion being torn into pieces, in the rain of the Capitol's guts. All this is happening in split seconds.

Sometimes there's no warning. No warning at all.