A/N: 01/06/2016 I told myself I was gonna update this before the new year. That clearly didn't happen. I thought I was half way done with it during the last week of December and that it would be 'easy' to hurry up and get finished, but I quickly realized how much more needed to be done to it. It's kinda funny when I think about it. Not to you guys, of course. But to me. Haha.
Thank you VERY much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (gosh, I hope I'm not missing anyone), including MetallicMedallion (oh yeah it's perfectly normal. It just means you're a fast reader ;D) Guest (*GASP* How DARE you even THINK that I would give up on this story! I am seeing this thing through to the very end, I assure you!) Greek Geek at Heart (haha please don't kill me), DanteCreativity, Guest, KKgirlliz, Romanticlove93, Guest, TheConjuringMind, Mrs. Marple Poirot, Guest, bechloemockingjay-stan5ever, Mystery of the Night, A Huge Fan, ilookhotinblack, Guest (you're welcome!), aj344, StoriesOfMyLife96, Guest, Live4theMusic (thanks for pointing out those mistakes in the last chapter, I fixed 'em!), Finnickislife, Keeper, XenaTheDog, and Manaliac. You da best. :)))
The BIGGEST thank you EVER goes to elfielovesbooks, without whom you wouldn't be reading this chapter right now. Her great advice and lovely insight into the minds of the characters really helped me out here :)
Reading Time:
if you're fast: around 24 mins.
if you're slow: around 41 mins.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
Chapter twenty-eight: Tornado to Hurricane~
When they awake the next morning, Tigris is carrying a tray full of food and freshly-pressed clothes down the steep staircase of the cellar, the light streaming in behind her being the only signs of daylight.
Katniss feels achy but rested, and she tiredly yawns herself awake as Gale and Johanna stretch their overworked limbs towards the breakfast Tigris has prepared for them. The ex-stylist sets the tray and clothing down on an old, dusty table in the far corner of the room, tucked away with the rest of her paraphernalia, and goes about checking on their wounds and stitches, starting with Gale.
Katniss feels a weight on her chest as she breathes in, and as she looks down she finally remembers Finnick. He's fast asleep against her, having not moved an inch from where she left him the night before, and she smiles sleepily down at the top of his head and kisses his hair. Tigris comes over and nudges him and he finally stirs himself awake, and though Katniss would have preferred to let him rest, she knows that they're not completely safe here and that they need to keep moving if they're ever going to reach Snow's mansion. If they stopped to rest for even a second longer than absolutely necessary, they may never complete their mission.
Finnick reluctantly rolls forward and sits up, and Katniss immediately misses the warmth. He stretches his back for just a second before the pain stabs him and he remembers his wounds, and she stretches out an arm and lays a gentle hand on his spine, reminding him not to push himself. He turns his head to glance back at her and nods, silently giving his appreciation for her concern, and she proceeds to move out of the way and let Tigris inspect his stitches to make sure his wounds aren't infected.
Once she has decided all is well, the cat-woman drags the table of food and clothing over to the middle of the room and lets them eat, moving to keep watch at the top of the stairs while they gorge themselves on instant potatoes and sparkling water. Katniss almost expects to see a tail swishing back and forth beneath her robes.
"President Snow has ordered all Capitol citizens and shop owners to house refugees from the outer rings of the city," the striped woman says once they've all gotten a mouthful of food. "Even with this hiding place, it's not safe for you to stay here anymore."
Her eyes slink over to Katniss', gleaming as though curious as to how she'll handle the situation, and the young Mockingjay clears away any remnants of tiredness to get her brain working at full capacity.
"...Okay, then. I guess we'll have to leave as soon as we're done eating."
"That won't work," Tigris says, crossing her arms and lolling her head lazily to the side. "The broadcast was early this morning. The refugees have been passing by all day. Luckily, none of them have dared to ask me for shelter, but I blame that on your typical Capitol greed; Snow told them he was willing to take in a number of refugees into his own home, so I've no doubt that's where they're all headed first."
Katniss pauses in her chewing, trying to think.
Hmm...well, if the refugees were already swarming towards Snow's mansion, then there was absolutely no way they would be able to just slip out of Tigris's shop and expect to reach their destination undetected. They wouldn't make it two feet before someone recognized them. She supposes that they could wait until all of the refugees passed, but that could be days. They didn't have days. The rooftops were a no-go, too, as Snow would most definitely have Peacekeepers and drones and everything else under the sun keeping a bird's-eye-view on the streets, safe-guarding his home and ensuring his own survival. And though they could chance it, she highly doubted that anyone was up to trying the sewers again.
She exhales, frustrated with their lack of options.
She glances around the room, hoping to find an answer in the walls or floor or one of her teammates, or the pile of clothes hanging on the rack in the corner-
That's it! a voice in the back of her head shouts. The clothes! We can use the clothes to get us out of here!
Swallowing down her instant potatoes, Katniss voices her idea. "What about the clothes?"
Her teammates look at her with puzzled faces, but Tigris smirks knowingly, having already caught on.
"You mean the ones on the rack over there?" She asks. "The ones that haven't seen daylight in ages and probably never will?"
"Well, yes," she answers, trying to explain. "But I mean this entire store. It's a clothing shop, right? So what if we just disguised ourselves to blend in with the rest of the refugees? All of the pods leading up to Snow's mansion should be deactivated because of the crowd, so as long as we stick with them we'd have nothing to worry about. We wouldn't have to lift a finger; they'd let us in."
Everyone looks down in thought, considering her idea, and just as she would expect, Johanna is the first to find a hole in her plan.
"Um, no offense, Brainless, but unless there's some plastic surgeon next door that the rest of us don't know about, a change of clothes isn't exactly going to do the trick."
"No," Tirgis agrees, her mouth stretching into a wide, feline-like smile. "But a makeover will."
Gale chokes on his food, sputtering water and potatoes. "Excuse me?!"
Tigris huffs, miffed at his outright refusal. "I happen to be in possession of some of the finest wigs and makeup the Capitol has to offer. And once I'm done with you, no one will be able to recognize your faces."
"Oh, joy," Johanna drawls. "I get to be 'pretty' again."
Katniss ignores her, instead looking to Gale and Finnick. "So? What do you think?"
Finnick shrugs, wincing when his shoulders stretch his stitches. "No complaints here. Well, maybe a few, but I'm game."
She gives a slight smile and turns to Gale. "Gale?"
The young man in question sighs and widens his eyes, clearly not onboard with her idea.
"You know how much I hate the Capitol," he says, and she nods. "All their ridiculous clothes and overstuffed bellies and cush lifestyles..." he takes a moment to calm himself down. "But...if it helps us take down Snow...then I'm in. Do what you have to do. Just, please-" he looks pleadingly at Tigris. "-no glitter."
She grins, nice and wide. "Deal."
Katniss smiles, exhaling in relief that everyone is in agreeance. "Alright, then. It's a plan."
"I'll bring something down for each of you," Tigris says, and she saunters up the stairs before anyone can say another word.
Katniss dares to say the woman was excited at the opportunity to be a stylist again, but of course, she keeps such thoughts to herself.
She and her squad continue to dine on their breakfast of water and potatoes, keeping themselves occupied with strategy plans and dumb jokes until Tigris returned.
It takes a little over an hour, but Tigris is able to completely transform them.
Katniss had been a little uneasy at first, afraid of the precious time they would lose, but in reality she was amazed that it didn't take the woman six hours to do them all up; she truly was a talented stylist, working with nothing more than what she had on hand (and in the darkness of a cellar, no less), and she wasn't sure if Cinna himself could have done any better.
She stares at her reflection in a nearby mirror, inspecting Tigris's work.
She looks over the short pastel-pink wig, the pale white of her face, the electric-blue eye shadow, the artificial gaunt in her cheeks. She looks like Effie's stepchild. She couldn't deny, though, Tigris had done a great job; she didn't even recognize herself. There was no way anyone else would.
She glances over the reflection of her shoulder, movement catching her eye.
Johanna walks up beside her, a ready sneer on her face as she inspects the stylist's handiwork along with her in the mirror.
"Ugh," she says, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Look at me, I look like some...Capitol harlot. No offense, Finnick."
"None taken," he calls, adjusting the collar of his shirt as Tigris fixes him up.
Katniss briefly studies Johanna's reflection – at the blacker-than-black eyeliner, the dreadlock hair extensions that drape in front of her shoulders, the blood-red lipstick and rosy cheeks – and tries not to laugh. She bites her lip and tries to offer some form of comfort.
"Well, think of it this way: everyone's so terrified and hell-bent on getting to Snow's mansion that you won't have to worry about anyone asking for your services."
The hot-tempered woman elbows her in the gut. "Oh, shut up."
Katniss laughs despite the lack of air in her lungs, and Johanna can only cross her arms and stomp her foot like a young child.
"Ladies! Make way, please!"
A pair of hands gently pry them apart to make room for another person, and both girls go silent as they catch sight of the reflection that greets them in the mirror.
Finnick stands between them with a broad smile, feigning pride at the way he looks, and both Katniss and Johanna can only stare with loose jaws at what Tigris has done to him.
Glittering silver lines his eyes, sweeping upwards into a cat-like shape, and his cheekbones are ridiculously contoured with makeup that brings a severe gaunt to the rest of his face. His mouth glistens with pale lip gloss, and the long, blond wig he's wearing only tops it all off. But as much as she hates to say it, as much as she wants to make fun of him, he actually pulls it off.
"Geez, Finnick," Johanna says, brows furrowing in jealousy. "You even make dumb disguises look good...it's disgusting..."
Finnick shifts his smile into a smirk, dramatically posing with his chin held high and his hands on his hips. "Yeah. I know."
Johanna makes a disgusted sound and slaps him on the arm, and Katniss has to suppress a snort of laughter.
"Okay," Tigris calls. "He's finished."
They all turn to face the last member of their team (and by far, the most difficult for Tigris to work with) and the entire room silences.
Gale, who had been the most reluctant and therefore the last to be 'dolled up', as Johanna had put it, steps forward with his blue wig and black eyeshadow, his lipstick-clad mouth drawn down into an unamused frown. It's sad for her to say, but his sullen expression only made him look even funnier.
Finnick opens his mouth, a smart comment ready on his lips-
"Not. One. Word," Gale glares.
Katniss purses her lips and Johanna twirls one of her extensions, purposefully looking around the room rather than at the peeved soldier in front of them. Finnick is amazingly able to close his mouth, and the few awkward seconds of silence that follows are short-lived once Tigris calls them back into action.
"Okay, we're done. You just need to put these on and then you can go."
She pulls a few coats off of a nearby rack and hands one to each of them.
"These are designs for long-coats I had planned on dressing my Tributes with before Snow had me thrown out of the limelight," she says, a smudge of bitterness in her voice. "They're made of very thick fabric, so your weapons won't show through."
Katniss takes her coat and feeds her arms through the sleeves, pulling the large hood over top her head and placing her hands into the deep pockets. She notes that her legs are just long enough to keep the material from dragging the ground.
She looks up, mouth open to verbalize her gratefulness for her hospitality, but stops short when she sees Tigris a bit too happily helping Finnick into his coat. She closes her mouth and slowly exhales, taking great care not to let her irritation show through at such a simple action.
She averts her eyes and sees Johanna smirking at her, knowing full well what has her so miffed, and Katniss none-too-gracefully looks away and pretends to shrug it off.
"Thanks," Finnick says, oblivious to the cougar-woman's advances as he adjusts his coat.
"You're welcome," she replies wryly, stepping away to admire her work.
Katniss clears her throat – loudly – even though she doesn't have to. "Thank you," she says, forcing a smile. "For everything."
Tigris says nothing in response, but she thinks she sees her face lift into a genuine – though small - smile.
"We should leave in groups of two," Gale says. "If we leave all at once, people might get suspicious."
She nods. "Right."
Johanna and Finnick begin marching up the stairs, and she hurries to fall in line behind Gale.
"Mockingjay."
She pauses, turning to look once more at the shamed stylist.
"May the odds be ever in your favor," Tigris says, a hint of sarcasm showing through her otherwise sincere tone.
Katniss nods, a way of thanks, and turns to climb up after the others.
She joins her squad at the front door, gazes with the rest of them at the sea of Capitol citizens trudging unknowingly past them about ten yards away, and takes a moment to mentally prepare herself for what they are about to attempt.
"Finnick and I'll go together," Johanna says, looking at she and Gale. "Better to test the waters with someone we work best with, I think."
Katniss looks at Finnick, and though she knows that he doesn't like the idea of being separated from her either, she also knows that Johanna is right. It would be best, in the long run, if they were paired with people they worked well with. As far as she knew, Finnick and Johanna had always been a team of sorts (that much was apparent in the Quell, and again in the sewers) and she couldn't imagine working better in a life or death situation with anyone but Gale. They were hunting partners, had been their whole lives, and despite the dramatic changes said lives had undergone lately, she couldn't imagine Finnick or anyone else taking that place.
She nods, drawing in the corners of her mouth to hide her dislike of the idea. "Okay. Gale and I will go first."
Johanna nods. "We'll be right behind you."
Gale steps forward to open the door, but Finnick darts a hand out to stop him.
"Wait." He says, and everyone looks at him.
He slowly steps towards Katniss, his coat billowing around him, and it's only when he opens his arms to her that she realizes what his intentions are. Without hesitation, she steps forward, crashing into him without really meaning to, and wraps her arms around him as far as they will go. There's a moment of hesitation when she remembers his wounds, but he refuses to let her pull away. He envelopes her in his arms and buries his face in her artificial hair, and she relishes his protective embrace and comforting breath against her neck.
"Come back to me in one piece," he whispers, lips brushing against her skin.
She doesn't miss the desperation in his voice, or the fear. She realizes that he must be absolutely terrified that he'll lose her out there, that she'll lose herself in her promise to end Snow and his tyrannical reign, and even she can't guarantee that she'll emerge truly victorious in the end. She might break, might crumble under the pressures of war and the heavy burden of being the only one who can put an end to it all, might lose sight of who she is and what she stands for. She could revert back into the damaged, mentally unstable girl she was back in District 13. Only this time, she can't see herself snapping out of it.
"...I'll try." She says, feeling oncoming tears because she can't promise him more.
Finnick pulls away, looking at her with a stern expression. "That's not enough, Katniss. I need to know that you'll be okay out there. Not that you'll 'try'."
Tears fall and her lip begins to tremble, and she hates that she can't just reign it all back in.
"I can't promise you that," she croaks. "Because I don't know what will happen when the time comes."
It was true. She had no idea of knowing fully what would happen when she finally got to kill Snow, what she would do or how she would be afterwards. And though she desperately wants to give Finnick some form of comfort regarding the topic, she doesn't want to lie to him either.
He gently grabs hold of her shoulders, steadying her. "I'm not asking you to know the future. I'm asking you to do everything in your power to keep yourself afloat, to do whatever it takes so that you'll still be the same person you are now when this is all over." He pauses, then adds in a softer tone, "Please."
Her lips tremble with a thousand different sentences, and a few more tears escape her eyes because she's not sure which one to grab onto and give to him. In the end she can only give him one word, one answer, because at the moment, it's all she's good for. He needs an answer. And who is she to deny him such a thing?
She opens her mouth, a single, jittery word on her lips rather than a full sentence because she's afraid of sounding like a weak, dying frog, and gives him the answer they both need to hear.
"...Okay."
He breaks into a relieved smile and kisses her full on the lips, cupping her face and running the pads of his fingers past her wig and up the nape of her neck, and for just a moment, she forgets where they are and what they're supposed to be doing, forgets about wars and tyrants and revolutions and Games. And it's absolutely wonderful.
Johanna unceremoniously coughs and Finnick pulls away, and though Katniss already misses the feeling of being close to him, she also knows that they're wasting precious time.
Gale grabs hold of the doorknob and twists it open, nodding to Johanna and Finnick, and, with one last look at the man she dares to say she loves, Katniss follows after him and disappears into the sea of Capitol strangers.
Peeta Mellark storms through the halls of District 13, intent on getting to the control room.
It was absolute chaos; people rushing around and shouting orders and shoving past people to get where they needed to go. It was a bit much for him the handle, being so close to so many people, and having only just recently recovered from his hijacking to the point where he was allowed to roam without a guard, he didn't want to screw it up. However, this was a risk he felt he needed to take.
He reaches up and yanks off his tie, wanting nothing more than to take off the itchy suit his newly appointed stylists had forced him into and get back into the less restricting (and far more comfortable) jumpsuit that was uniform around these parts.
For some reason, Coin had thought it was perfectly suitable to yank him away from his morning meal with Annie and start getting him ready for a propo that he was hardly prepared for. He was angry about it to say the least, but the fact that she had given someone else the orders rather than tell him directly herself infuriated him more.
Finally reaching the large set of metal doors, Peeta falls in line behind one of the soldiers authorized to enter and waits as they put in the passcode. Once it's done, he hurries in after them before the large slabs of metal begin to close back up.
He searches the control room, eyes scanning over every uniform and every face until he finds the one he wants among all of those present in the overly occupied space.
It doesn't take him long to spot the grey-haired President – she's situated at the large set of screens on the wall at the other end of the room, pressing buttons and giving out orders – and he wastes no time in stalking over to her and giving her a piece of his mind.
"Coin!" He calls, shouting because it's the only way he'll be heard amidst the ocean of voices echoing throughout the room.
Coin turns her head, a look of surprise clear on her features. "Peeta."
He doesn't waste time with pleasantries, and he doesn't have a problem with getting in her face to tell her so. "You mind telling me why I'm getting ready for a propo to announce our victory over the Capitol when the Rebels are still fighting their way to Snow's mansion? When Katniss and the others are still out there?"
"Katniss and the others are dead," Coin replies, none too gentle. "And the sooner you realize that, the better things will be for all of us."
Peeta shakes his head, clenching his jaw. "I think you and I both know that's not true."
Coin stretches an unpleasant smile across her face, as though she knows that she's losing their debate but is unwilling to give up just yet, and leans in close to whisper in his ear.
"The Mockingjay's death has been the best thing to happen for this rebellion," she begins, deadly calm. "The Rebels's efforts to reach Snow have doubled by two hundred percent. Victory at this point is inevitable. And if you refuse to do this propo, telling everyone that we've won and that they can lay their worries to rest, not only are you committing treason, but you are perfectly liable to be tried in court for your crimes right along with the rest of the Capitol prisoners. Is that what you want?"
Peeta leans back, brows furrowed in anger. "Are you threatening me?"
"I'm telling you what your options are," she says simply. "It's completely up to you which one you choose. Though personally, I would choose the one that lets you be with Annie. She's a delicate girl and I can only imagine the stress it would put on her if you were to be sentenced to an execution."
Peeta falls silent, and he and Coin stare dangerously at each other.
Movement catches his eye and he looks behind her at the large screens lining the wall, gaze falling on the camera feed for one of the hangars. People in military uniforms bustle around a lone hovercraft, pushing away carts and fuel tanks and tools as they prepare to give the go-ahead for the pilot. He immediately notices the large empty rack being rolled off to the side, as well as the gleaming silver parachutes that sit inside the flying machine.
Coin notices his confusion, and makes sure not to give him any more time to piece things together.
"Please escort Mr. Mellark back to his cell. I'm afraid that I've misjudged his recovery progress and he needs to be sedated at the soonest opportunity."
She turns away and tends to the control panel for the screens, and Peeta stares at her with disbelief.
He moves forward, ready to try once again to voice his protests.
He doesn't get two steps before two pairs of strong hands wrap around his arms and shoulders, forcing his hands behind his back as they begin hauling him away. He kicks and bucks and flails with all his might, but it's no use; he is going to be taken back to his cell and away from Annie, whether he likes it or not.
"You're no better than Snow!" He screams suddenly, determined to get the last word in. "You're a monster! You hear me?! A monster!"
The doors open and he is finally taken away, and an earie silence ensues once the doors slam shut.
Coin stands at the control panel, staring intently at the set of screens in front of her.
She wasn't the monster. Snow was. He had killed thousands of children, forcing them into a game they had no idea how to play. She was sacrificing a mere few. It was a drop in the bucket compared to the ocean's worth of blood he had spilled. No. He was the real monster.
Movement catches her eye, and she watches on the screen as the hovercraft takes off and leaves its hangar.
"Ma'am?"
Her subordinate's voice snaps her out of her reverie, and Coin opens her mouth to give yet another order. "Use Annie Cresta for the propo. Tell her that Peeta has relapsed and is in need of more treatment, and that the Rebellion is counting on her to ensure our victory."
The young soldier wordlessly salutes her and walks off, not hesitating for a second to carry out his duty.
Coin looks away from the screen with the now empty hangar, and instead focuses on an overhead view of Snow's mansion, zooming in on the courtyard.
Victory was imminent.
It won't be long now.
The first few minutes they walk, Katniss feels the instinctive need to keep her head down, but Gale reminds her that they can't be recognized, and she eventually relaxes into a relatively laid-back posture.
She tries to stay focused on the task at hand, on making it to Snow's mansion and completing their mission, but she finds that it's almost impossible for her to do. No matter what she does, she can't shake the feeling of moths in her stomach, of awful, flittering things wreaking havoc on her heart and brain.
There was just so much that could go wrong within the next few minutes, or even seconds. All it would take was one person – a nosy stranger, a curious child – and the entire Peacekeeper battalion would be on them like a pack of mutts on a Tribute. Granted, Tigris had done an amazing job on making them unrecognizable, but that didn't quell her fears any less. So much could go wrong. She just had to trust that it wouldn't.
Feeling a sudden surge of bile rising to her throat, Katniss takes a breath and decides to think of something else to calm herself down. She wonders how far behind Finnick and Johanna are in the crowd, where they are and whether or not they've been discovered. She thinks of Finnick's last words to her and her own vow to keep it together, mentally, both for herself and for him. She thinks of what will happen when this is all over, where they will go and if he will still want her when the excitement of war fizzles out.
Stop it, her mind chastises. Of course he'll still want you. He loves you. And he wouldn't go through all that trouble to keep you alive and happy if he didn't.
She mentally sighs. Of course her voice of reason was right. Finnick did love her. But there was still that constant fear in the background of their romance that made her wonder if they would truly flourish together or just become obsolete with time the way she and Peeta had. But she would rather live and find out than die and never know, and either way, she sincerely hopes they survive this war.
"Not much farther now," Gale whispers, the hood of his coat inclining towards her as they walk.
She nods, more to assure herself than her friend, and they continue to wade through the sea of people around them, slowly making their way down the street along with everyone else like a steady moving river. There's so many wigs and hats and neon-colored clothing around her that she can't really see ahead, but she's sure that Gale would warn her if something was wrong.
Peacekeepers line the path to Snow's mansion, one standing at attention every six yards along the sidewalk, some moving forward to help refugees and urge them along to safety while others keep an eye out for rebels, and though she's sure that their gazes had swept over them at some point, they hadn't looked twice at either she or Gale.
She looks over to her right at a worried couple whispering hushed comforts to each other, to her left at a little girl staring curiously at her as she's being carried by her mother, and tries to convince herself that, as long as she's hiding behind Tigris's makeup and unused Tribute coat, she's safe.
She grips her bow tighter beneath her draping wardrobe, the action unnoticeable to anyone who might happen to glance at the unusually thick layers she's wearing, and gravitates closer to Gale. If anything were to suddenly go wrong, they would be separated faster than either of them could draw their weapon. It would be best if they stuck as close together as possible.
They walk a few more minutes and there's a moment when the moths in her stomach slowly turn to those of bats, anxiety and fear of being caught sinking their sharp claws into her brain. Suddenly nothing is safe and everything is dangerous, and she's all too aware of the proximity of the Peacekeepers and the little girl's eyes staring at her and the countless moving bodies that threaten to crush her. She begins to feel like she's being suffocated, everyone gradually closing in on her with the intent of swallowing her whole. It only gets worse the longer they walk, and it's only thanks to Gale that she's able to keep herself from hyperventilating and making a scene.
"We're here," Gale whispers. "I can see the gates."
They come to a stop with the rest of the refugees and relief begins to flood her, but it only lasts for a moment. She feels Gale tense beside her, and her small panic attack is only worsens. Fear seizes her limbs and she has to force her mouth to open before she can even ask what's wrong.
"What...what is it?" She asks, tense as a spring as she grips her bow. She can't see her knuckles, but she thinks they must be white.
"Peacekeepers," he says, lifting himself up onto his toes and craning his neck to get a better view. "They're only taking children into the mansion."
She loosens her hold on her weapon. "What?"
He points. "Right over there."
She stands on her toes and tries to see between the countless people in front of her, but it barely helps. The most she can see is the tops of children's heads floating above the crowd, all gravitating towards the same spot; the gates.
It doesn't make any sense, She thinks. Why would they only accept children? Snow said that he would take in all refugees.
"I guess he's trying to make a show of what a 'great' President he is," Gale mutters, unintentionally answering her thoughts.
Unsatisfied with their current position, Katniss shifts her bow to her other hand and grabs hold of Gale's coat, tugging him forward as she pushes past the whispering couple and the mother whose little girl is being passed along to the gates. Though she's sure he's confused, Gale doesn't object as they move to the front of the crowd, and Katniss is finally able to make sense of things when they break through to the edge of the line.
Peacekeepers line the gates to Snow's mansion, guns at the ready as their comrades step forward to receive the Capitol's children into the heavily-guarded courtyard. It was unbelievable; hundreds of small, tiny bodies crammed together just past the gates, many of them barefoot and improperly clothed for such cold weather. They must have been the ones who were just barely able to escape the Rebels' onslaught.
"My God..." She whispers, thoroughly disturbed. "He's using them as a shield."
Gale barely hears her. "What?"
"Look," she urges, keeping her voice as low as possible. "See how there are more of them towards the entrance to the mansion?"
Gale looks, and she knows that he sees. The sea of children is thicker towards the double-door entrance of Snow's not-so-humble abode, and although one might easily assume that it was right and just to defend the them first rather than the adults, it was easy to tell by their terrible living conditions and the positions of the Peacekeepers that the President's intentions were hardly empathetic. If Snow really wanted to protect the children, he would have brought them straight into his home. Not have them sitting around in freezing-cold weather like vulnerable little ducks.
"You're right," Gale says, cutting himself off when a child is passed between them and taken hold of by a Peacekeeper. "So what do we do? If we can't get in then there's no point. We've come all this way for nothing."
Katniss says nothing, because there's nothing she can say. What could they do? Only children were allowed past those gates. They clearly weren't children, and neither of them possessed the social skills needed to convince the Peacekeepers to let them through. She supposes they could always wipe off their makeup and take off their wigs and reveal themselves, but chances were they would only get shot rather than be taken in to see Snow. What to do...
She opens her mouth and begins to speak, but her voice is swallowed by the shrill sound of screaming and gunfire.
Panic envelopes the whole crowd and Katniss and Gale are shoved to the ground by Peacekeepers, orders to stay down shouted into their ears as they lift their guns and prepare to fight. It's only after she's lying on the concrete next to her friend that she realizes what's happening; the Rebels have finally broken through.
Though she should feel relieved, she feels anything but; the Rebels are aiming for Capitol citizens, and she and Gale fit the bill perfectly. If they weren't dressed so ridiculously, she's sure that they would be fighting alongside them right now, but it's too late to shed their disguises and switch sides without being gunned down by either party. If it became known that they weren't citizens, the Peacekeepers would kill them. If they tried to keep up their guises and run, the Rebels would kill them. The only thing they could do was play dead.
Katniss squeezes her eyes shut and tries to remain calm, telling herself that she'll be just fine as long as she stays down. She feels Gale's hand reach over and grab onto hers, and though she knows it's meant as a form of comfort, she feels as though he's just signed their death warrants. They will both die, and the last thing either of them will remember is holding each other's hand.
Combat boots and bare feet trample her body, one of which is heavy enough to knock the air from her lungs. She coughs and sputters, trying not to panic and let the oxygen back in, when her ears are suddenly overloaded with what is possibly the loudest sound she has ever heard.
A hovercraft swoops by with thunderous force, there one moment and gone the next, and Katniss looks up just in time to see gleaming silver parachutes floating down to the terrified children in the courtyard. Images of her first Games flash through her mind, terrible memories she'd hoped never to relive, and even though she knows what those parachutes mean – medical supplies, food, gifts – there's something in her gut that tells her nothing good will come from them.
A single child stands up and reaches for the closest parachute, the others following suit, and Katniss can only watch as they open their gift-bearing care packages with trembling hands and frostbitten fingers.
The moment seems to go by in slow motion, and she has just enough time to scream, "NO!" before the bombs go off.
It's a chain-reaction. One parachute explodes and then another, until nearly half of the deceptively shiny objects are gone. Screams of alarm and cries of agony sound out all around them, and more boots trample over her as the Peacekeepers rush to open the gates.
Katniss jolts up from her position on the ground, letting go of Gale's hand and tossing her bow as she gets up to help. He calls after her but she doesn't listen; she needs to know if those children are okay, if there are any survivors.
She's slammed against the cold, metal bars of the front gate as people flood into the courtyard, pushing past her and shoving her aside. Her eye socket and cheekbone sting with pain, and she feels frustrated and helpless as she searches the countless faces and still bodies of the children who had been perfectly fine just seconds before. Over half of them are lying dead, and the rest are severely injured.
She brings a hand up to her mouth as tears fill her vision, her sorrow shared by all of the Capitol mothers and fathers who trusted their President with their children's lives, only to have them taken away from them forever.
The prolonged cries of anguish that sound out all around her are swallowing her whole, and she doesn't even know any of the people there. She never knew the Capitol was capable of such empathy and compassion, and it's a cruel irony that they should have their own children brutally murdered instead of those in the districts, yet she can find no possible way to justify the situation so that she doesn't feel horrible. Killing children will always be wrong, and no matter who they belonged to, she will never be able to justify it.
Gale finally finds her amidst the chaos and she's yanked backwards and out of the courtyard, and even though she wants to stay and help the children, she also knows that there is nothing she can really do. She is not a doctor, she is not a parent, and her own grief would only prove to slow things down. She could only get in the way.
She's just begun to wipe her eyes when she catches sight of blonde hair and a slender frame, and though it's sketchy, it's enough to make her go rigid.
Prim... She thinks, watching as the vision before her is swallowed by the crowd rushing into the courtyard.
"Hey!"
She's distracted by the sound of Johanna's voice, and she glances over to see her running towards her, looking both angry and confused.
"What's going on?!" Johanna shouts, standing next to Gale as hundreds of panicked people move around them.
Katniss barely registers that she's spoken, too focused on the empty space beside Johanna.
"Where's Finnick?!" She shouts, panic flooding her senses.
"I don't know!" She shouts back. "He was right behind me and then...nothing!"
Frustration sweeps through her, torn between searching for Finnick and going after Prim. She clenches her eyes shut to block out the noise and better focus.
Okay, Katniss, think, her mind urges. Wherever Finnick is, he's probably fine. He can take care of himself. He's proved that a hundred times since you've known him. You need to look for Prim. Find Prim.
She feels some of the frustration drain away, knowing that although she's worried about Finnick, it's Prim she needs to focus on; if her sister is truly here, she needs to know.
She glances over at the stone wall connected to the left side of the gate and begins to climb despite Gale and Johanna's protests, knowing that she'll be able to better see if she can get a bird's-eye-view. She makes it to the top and looks out at the crowd, at the endless sea of scared people and the Rebels and Peacekeepers rushing in to help the children, and suddenly her eyes lock back onto the blonde hair and thin frame.
Katniss watches as she turns around, and it's then that she sees her face.
The ridged nose, the downward-cast eyes, the gaunt cheeks...it's not Prim.
She sighs in relief. Good.
She watches as the nameless woman whom she had mistaken to be her sister kneels down to help the children, a medical kit in her hands, and Katniss' breathing suddenly stills. Because she realizes.
Only half of the bombs have gone off.
She screams, calling out to the people below, and the blonde woman looks up, shocked and confused at her outburst, and before either of them can say anything more, the remaining parachutes activate.
She's only able to witness the explosion for a moment, her eyes overcome with incredible light and her cold face heated by the flames for no more than a second before someone grabs hold of her long coat and yanks her down from the wall.
The sound alone is incredible; it breaches her ears and envelopes her senses, and if she'd had more time, she would appreciate the fact that she doesn't have to experience it for very long.
Her head smacks against the pavement, and her world goes black.
She slowly opens her eyes sometime later, vision blurry.
She gradually registers that she's looking up at a bright, tiled ceiling, and she dully realizes that she must be in a hospital.
She sees her mother to her left, her brow furrowed with worry as she hurriedly hooks up an IV. She tries to turn her head but she can't; her neck is trapped in a brace. She opens her mouth to speak, but that doesn't work either; her face is covered by a breathing device. She attempts to raise her right arm, and it's then that she realizes just how much pain she's in.
Her mother finally notices her conscious state, and quickly moves to stroke her hair and calm her down. "Shh, Katniss, shh...it's okay. Go back to sleep. You'll be okay, just go back to sleep..."
And she does.
A/N: SO, there's that. I've already got about a third of the next chapter written in case you're wondering, and the next chapter WILL come sooner than this one did. I swear this to you *raises sword* ( '-')/
I would say ''til next time', but I feel like that would just be a stab in the back at this point :P
