Weak. Too weak to walk, to sit up, to even move. Tubes pump air through my nostrils and into my lungs, as I lack the strength to do so myself. It's midnight, and I'm awake. I make no noise, but cannot bear to sleep. Instead, I listen to the rhythmic beeping of the machines that keep some alive, I listen to the sobbing and screams of peacekeepers psychologically injured, I listen to the patter of the footsteps doctors on night shift take, I listen to the snoring and soft breath if others, I listen to the stillness. My shoulder is still numb, as morphling had to be administered so the pain wouldn't be too much. Once the morphling wears off, I'll be allowed to stay at home for the rest of my time here. I can't wait to see Annona again, I haven't seen her since my last visit. It's more than just a desire to leave the confines of this hospital bed, its a desire to see my love while I still can. I don't know how much longer I have left, but I'm not thinking ahead that far. I'm not afraid to die; actually I shouldn't say that. I'm still afraid that it will hurt, like Cato went. Or that the cause it is for won't succed, and more will die after me. I wonder what I'll find on the other side, but that's more philosophic curiosity than fear. Death does scare me. However, I'm not a coward, crippled by fear and primal self-preservation, willing to do and rationalizing anything to prolong my own life, going on and on about how beautiful life is and how awful it is to die in a war. I hold that everyone will die eventually, and that it might as well be for a noble cause. I'd rather be a dead hero than a dead coward, as that is the choice; not dead hero or live coward. Even if the uprising is crushed before I can be redeployed, and future generations live without ever learning of the Mockingjay, I'll still die. I'll still die, and so will everyone else alive today, everyone born today, and everyone who will ever be born. It is just the way of things.
In the morning, nurses bathe me with sponges, as lying in bed for days will dirty anyone. Once I am dressed in a uniform, I head over to the train terminal. I wait in the line as other commuters pile into the train. Soon it's my turn, so my mob fill up the space in the train. Since this one just takes us from the acropolis to the train station in the district square, it's designed to accommodate large groups of people. The only seats are at the side of the train car, and metal poles are in the center of it so people can stand. As my train car rides down the slope of the mountain, I can see out the window. The outer surface of the mountain is still primal, with trees and wildlife and sparse log cabins. Most of the cabins we pass are abandoned, but others are inhabited and have smoke rising from stone chimneys. Soon, we reach the base of the mountain, and finally the train station of the district square. As the door opens and I exit the metal cylinder, I notice one face in the crowd.
After seeing Annona, she sees me, and runs over to greet me. My arms wrap around her in a hug, the warmth brings comfort. I tell her, "It's good to see you."
I release her from my arms when I feel her flinch, but she still smiles. "I'm glad to see you too."
She then notices the cast on my left shoulder, her facial expression changes to concern. Reassuring her, I say, "Don't worry about me, the doctors said my shoulder will heal in two months. I'll be redeployed once it does, but until then I am all yours."
She relaxes a little, and I continue. "So tell me, how have things been going at home?"
She responds, "Didn't you read my letters?"
I chuckle a little, "Yes, but I have had to sit in a hospital bed for who-knows-how-long. I am sure something must have happened during that time."
As we head out of the train station and into the parking lot, she tells me about her time here. "Things have been going how they usually go. In district 1, they're building statues for Cashmere and Gloss."
I'm not surprised, those two were district 1 royalty. Annona continues as we walk down the long line of vehicles in the parking lot. "They are drafting most of the men into service, and many of the women are enlisting. District 2 seems like its going to war."
It already is at war, all other options failed. As I climb into the coach seat of the cart, I hold my hand out to help her in. As we ride down the streets, we talk more. "So, what's it like being a Peacekeeper?"
This makes me think. I know that as a peacekeeper in training, I spoke of honor and gallantry, but my mouth can't form those words. I think about the killing and dying, and shake the thoughts away while I can. Then I think about my experiences executing pedophiles and rapists and murderers and saboteurs, of the two monsters I saved Annona from, and of how better the world is without them.
I finally answer Annona's question, "It's a job that has to be done."
As we ride through my home district, it looks almost completely different from my last visit. Munitions factories and weapons manufacturers grind day and night, pumping hot metal into shape. Public speakers denounce the revoult, Katniss, Peeta, and sometimes all three of them, gathering large crowds of eager listeners. Pictures of Katinss are burned in front of cheering onlookers. Mockingjays themselves are hunted to the point of endangerment. The speakers aren't always peacekeepers, sometimes they're victors, sometimes they're veterans, sometimes they're regular of the rebels seems non-existent in this district, but despite all the support, Its hard to hear people claim that this war will end in a month. I feel like it won't end for years, but I must still fight onward.
During the long ride from the city that surrounds the district square to my village, she goes into greater detail about all that happened while I was away. Victor Enobaria has successfully escaped the rebel attack on the 75th hunger games, and has formed an agreement with the other Victors of district 2 that they will pool their resources towards the war effort. Most agreed, but there were some holdouts. In particular, Lyme not only refused to agree to this, but openly criticizes the war effort. Some Victors were already Peacekeepers when the war began, and almost all District 2 Victors are careers without exception. Lyme herself was a career, so it would rub some the wrong way for someone living off Capitol dime to undermine its efforts. I know this war will be long, but I hope it won't be long enough for the atrocities of the dark days to begin anew.
It's not safe to ride at night, so I turn on a flashlight. The rays of illumination cut through the dark shadows, revealing the cobble beneth. My white peacekeepers uniform feels too big without armor underneath, and the wind is especially cold. Soon she falls asleep on my shoulder, and the sun has fully set. I'm glad she feels safe with me, its a good feeling. And as long as the Rebs don't come here, she'll stay safe.
