"How many more do we have?" I asked Peeta aloud as he was wearing the second backpack with the snares inside. I was squatting down at the snare in front of me, setting it in be used and hiding it under the forest floor. We were close to the tree Beetee pointed out, our lightning tree, and I was placing a few snares along the trail we were making and hiding then from plain sight.
"We're at 9 now." Peeta replied, counting the ones in his pack as I looked around to find the nearest tree. I grabbed the dagger in hand, slashing a long slash at the trunk and then getting up. I was marking a tree where I knew a snare was close by in order for me to remember where to run. I faced him once more, seeing him look at me with what to do next.
"We can set up at least 6 more around the tree, if not 5. We can use the extras for the other areas we think we can lewer them to." I explained to him, seeing him nod his head as we both walked behind the group. It was dark now, but there was sell a tint of blow from the arena dome, giving us just enough light.
"Do you think Beetee's plan is going to work?" I heard Peeta ask me aloud, having me look at him for a brief moment. Both Peeta and Katniss weren't there when I was telling the others about the plan with the snares, so he must still be skeptical about the whole thing.
"Don't you?" I asked him back in a light tone.
"I think it's a solid plan, but then again it could go wrong." Peeta said aloud in a low tone.
"Which is why we have these." I explained to him, tapping his backpack with my knuckles and grinning at him. He looked at me as we walked, analyzing me from my spot and then looked forward.
"I'm still surprised about this, and you were a dress maker. I seem to have underestimated you." He said to me in a more lighter tone, a tone that would be used between friends. I smirked from my spot and shrugged.
"A lot of people underestimated me, including myself. I was never one to stay silent, since I had the huge mistake of designing my own outfit, along with Sampson's, for the parade and interview." I said to him.
"Wait, you did that?" He asked me, shock was in his voice. I nodded my head.
"Yeah, and it was practically me flipping of President Snow. Think about it, have you ever seen a tribute design his or her own outfit, let alone refuse what was given to them by their stylists?" I asked him aloud, seeing him think to himself.
"That was my first downfall I guess. But I think at that point, being reaped again and going back to my death with my brother next to me, I didn't want to play nice after all."I said aloud to him, hearing nothing from him for a moment or two.
"Being Willow the Deceiver and all, you never did play nice." He commented, having me smile widely at his remark with my nickname and I saw him look over at me.
"Oh trust me, I played nice when I was a teenager. The only thing I did was see what others didn't. It's the Quarter Quell that made me not play nice." I replied back to him, thinking back to when I was in the Games as a teenager. It was different now. Then, I fought to live. Now, I fought for death. But my death would help the lives of Katniss and Peeta, mostly Katniss and the sheer hope she was the revolution and the mockingjay. I still believed in her, and I almost died plenty of time because of it.
We reached the large tree that was the target for the lightning that would commence within a few hours. I took off my backpack, Peeta doing the same as Beetee starting to wrap the wire around the tree multiple times. Peeta and I placed at least 5 snares around 5 points of the trees, arming them and hiding them within the leaves and foliage. With every snare, we made a mark on a tree to show where each snare was and to be careful. Katniss and Finnick were keeping watching as Johanna was holding the coil for Beetee. I walked back to the group, having the 4 extra snares in my pack as Peeta handed Beetee the other pack for him to hold.
"I'll keep watch." I said to the group aloud, holding my slingshot in hand and my poison dart tube on my shoulder strap and against my hip, loaded and ready. I walked away from the group, my slingshot loaded with a pebble and scanning the woods in case someone was going to pop out. I heard the others talking about the next step, and I went off to think to myself for a moment.
I knew I was placing my own head on the chopping block when I told them I wanted to lead the goose chase. It was stupid, it was dumb, and it was suicidal. BUt given my track record in the Quarter Quell, this was just the cherry on top.
Given that I was dehydrated, almost burned my entire back by fog, blacked out from rolling into a tree trunk and was revived by Finnick, suffered a deep cut on my thigh from the monkey mutts, head and arm injury from Shade, almost killed myself from the mental torture of the Jabberjays, and then almost biting my entire hand off from masking my screams. I should be dead right now if I was going to look at all that already happened to me, and this would ultimately kill me if it came to that.
"Is there a problem here?" Finnick asked within a group, though I didn't know what was going on as I was tuned into my own thoughts. These Games were deadlier than I imagined, both physically and mentally. The Gamekeepers knew what they were doing, they knew how to break us and make us no longer victors. I scanned the area some more, thinking someone was out there looking at us. I looked back at the group, seeing Katniss kiss Peeta on the lips and give him one last hug.
"I'll see you at midnight." She said to him in a soft, almost breaking tone of voice. She walked off with Johanna, coil in hand as they led the wire down to the beach. I looked back at Finnick, seeing him look at me with the trident in hand. There was silence then, as I thought about something else, something from the past that made me realize the change in my life. It gave me a distant memory, something I forgot for a long time.
"Here she is! The Victor of the 66th Hunger Games, Willow Trenton!" I heard in front of me as I was ushered in the mass crowds of people at the President's Mansion. It was the last day of the Victory Tour, and it ended at the Capitol of all places where I did not want to be in. I was walking through the crowds with my mentor next to me, whom was helping me through the wave and waves of people that wanted to at least touch my golden dress that I was wearing. My hair was in curls, gold highlights with my auburn hair and my golden heels to show my status as a Victor.
"Here we are, let's meet some mentors!" My mentor said aloud in a smile as he ushered me over to a specific table where there were plenty of mentors talking to each other. But one of the people at the table was not even old enough, in fact, he looked like he was my age, if not close enough. He had bronze hair, tan skin, and a smile that would break any heart from any woman in Panem. My mentor walked me over and I was introduced to a elderly woman who was next to the teenage boy. Her hair was fitted back behind her in a neat half up half down shape. Her gray hair and frail face made me think of her as a grandmother as my mentor walked me over to her.
"Willow, I would like you to meet Mags Cohen, mentor to District 4 and Districts 4's first victor." my mentor introduced us, having me smile as Mags took my hands in hers, patting them lightly and then smiling widely at me. It was the first sincere smile that I ever received since I won the Games. The other smiles were mimicked from others, and I knew they were trying to rub elbows with me. But this smile, it seemed like home to me, it seemed safe. I smiled right back at her.
"It's nice to meet you." she said in the sweetest tone I've ever heard in my life, "And I believe congratulations are in order."
"Thank you." I replied to her, trying to sound sincere though I was still mentally recovering from what was going on. She grinned from ear to ear as she tapped the young boy's shoulder, whom was eating some of the seafood at the table. He finally turned around and I saw his face for the first time. I knew who he was, from the moment his face was in clear view. He was famous in Panem, and I was fool for not seeing him sooner.
"Finnick, be proper to the Lady of the hour!" Mags said in a sweet yet demanding tone. She grinned at him as he brushed off the food on his fingers on his shirt and grinned at Mags.
"Sorry Mags." He said to her, his voice was smooth.
"Finnick this is Willow Trenton, this years Victor." Mags introduced him to me, seeing him take me hand in his and kiss the top of it. Boy, he was a true player from the ghetto. I raised my eyebrow at him as he grinned at me, the winning smile that I saw from last year.
"Finnick Odair, Victor from the 65th Hunger Games." He said to me in a velvet tone. I pulled my hand away as I saw Mags talk to my mentor and a few others.
"Nice to meet you. I remember you from last year." I said to him, seeing him raise his eyebrow at me.
"Oh really? Was I memorable then?" He said in a grin, having me look from him to the rest of the party, seeing everyone eating and drinking, and more eating and drinking. It made me kind of sick to my stomach, thinking that I have never seen that much food in one place at one time. Even on the train, this was beyond the food limit I have seen in my life.
"How do you know Mrs. Cohen?" I asked him aloud as I looked back over to him. He looked at Mags for a moment and then back at me.
"She was me mentor, and a great one at that." He replied, having me see her grin at the few mentors that she was talking to. I saw him snag another seafood piece from the plater and pop it in his mouth.
"She's wonderful, the nicest mentor I've met so far." I said to him, seeing him smile sincerely at me and then point to our left. I followed his finger, seeing a blond older gentleman with a alcoholic drink in his hand talking to another mentor.
"That's Chaff, he's the mentor for 11. You'd like him, and the guy with the drink, that's Haymitch Albernathy from 12. I would steer clear from him if you want sweetness from a Victor." He explained to me, having me watch as Haymitch took a big drink from his glass and was not looking too pleased to be here. It must of been something that was required, whether your tribute won or not, you had to show your support to the one Tribute that might of killed your own.
"Are you like this with all the girls you meet?" I asked him in a friendly tone, thinking that this was some kind of ruse that he was putting on since I was a female. He gave me a look, seeing that I was on his game. He just grinned and shook his head at me as I watched him stand next to me.
"Only with the ones I know will be a challenge for me." He replied, then breaking out into laughter. He was trying to play me, but seeing the shock look on my face made him laughter. I smiled from his remark, thinking of him as a friend already. I then heard the Panem Anthem being played as the lights all dimmed, some of them pointing to the balcony of the mansion. Everyone at the party looked and stayed quiet as we saw the President himself, walking out onto the balcony with his proper attire and white rose on his jacket, champagne in hand and a smile on his face. The whole audience cheered as I looked on at his face. I wish I could of smiled, or at least showed my gratitude. I was clapping without a smile on my face, because as I was looking at the President, I was picturing the images of the teenagers that died instead of me. Their bloody faces, with no life, and no hope. I felt Finnick take my hand in his and I looked at him, seeing a serious face on him for the first time.
"Welcome to the life of a Victor."
"What was that?" I heard next to me, having me snap back to the present time and have my slingshot out right in front of me. I saw both Peeta and Finnick walk over to the sound, which sounded like rustling deep within the forest ruins. I stayed by Beetee, who was unharmed with anything. If something was going to happen, I would have to stay with Beetee and make sure he was alive for the process to work.
"Beetee, stay in my eyesight." I said to him in a low tone as the two others move towards the sound once more. I then saw him move over to me, having me see him from the corner of my eye and then looking at the wire move suddenly. The form of us froze in our spot, looking at the wire and thinking it was some kind of misunderstanding or a trick. But no, the wire moved again. Something went wrong, and I felt my heart dropping to my feet.
"Finnickā¦" I said aloud as he moved to the wire, grasping to. He was feeling the vibrations, and the wire moved once more, but more vigorously. As soon as he released the wire, the wire itself, fell to the floor and was no longer in the air. He looked back at me, having me fear the worst.
Someone cut the wire.
