CHAPTER 38 - RESOLVE
PART I
I'm not sure exactly what woke me up - my bad dream or the shaking. I remember both vividly.
The early morning silence is broken by a loud, shuddering bang that's accompanied by a sharp jolt. My bed shakes vigorously, chasing away what little sleep remained in my brain.
Something just hit the house, I say to myself. But what? A car?
I hear Johanna's voice call out once from her bedroom. "Peeta?"
And then it starts. My best description would be that I was laying in a bed in a dollhouse, being shaken back and forth by a destructive, vindictive child. I could hear the walls rattle and shudder and feel my bed bounce against the floor. Amid the cacophony of the shaking house and the increasing din of unseen objects toppling over and falling, I hear a faint scream. I'm not sure if it's me or Jo doing the screaming.
I clench my eyes shut, clutching the sheet, blanket, and comforter around me as, incredibly, the shaking becomes even stronger, more pronounced. I feel and hear something bounce off the bed to land with a thud on the bedroom floor. The noise at this point is deafening and the only thought going through my mind is make. it. stop. make it stop. Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP! MAKEITSTOP! MAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEIT -
Silence. I could feel and hear my heart thudding as an eerie silence descends over the house. I open my eyes, straining to see something, anything, in the absolute blackness of the bedroom. My breathing is ragged and uneven. I should get up. Find out what happened. See if -
"Peeta?" Jo's voice calls out from her bedroom.
"Jo?" I reply. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Holy fuck!" Jo sounds shaky as she barks out a short, nervous laugh. Still, I should go check on her and -
"Don't get up!" Jo orders. "Stay right where you are!" I turn toward her voice and suddenly see a beam of light coming from the direction of her room. "I'll come to you," she says. As she talks I fumble for the light switch and press it. Nothing. I press several times with the same result. No lights. I realize that the power must be out. And that's why she's carrying a flashlight, stupid! I say to myself.
"Okay," I call back. I watch the beam of light get closer, and I realize that she's got a flashlight. I hear her muttered curses and I can hear her picking her way toward my room. Soon the light is softly illuminating my room and I look around.
The dresser that was against the wall has toppled over. The few pictures that were on the wall are now on the floor. The bedroom curtains are laying in a heap under the window.
"Come with me," Jo orders, "But put something on your feet - or foot, as the case may be - first."
Shakily I climb out of bed, locate my shoes, and slip my feet into them. I follow Jo out of the room to survey the rest of the house.
"What happened?" I ask.
"Seriously?" Jo asks in an amazed tone. "That was one strong quake!"
"Quake?" I ask stupidly. "As in earthquake?"
"I don't know of any other kind," Jo replies. "That was the strongest I've ever felt, though." We reach the living room and total chaos.
A large bookshelf that had contained Johanna's Holo-TV, along with books, magazine and photographs, had toppled over and was on the floor, having narrowly missed her couch on the way down. The contents of the shelves were strewn all over the living room. A smaller bookshelf on the opposite wall was also down, as were several pictures that had been hanging on the wall.
"Shit," is all Jo says as she surveys the chaos by flashlight beam. She bends down suddenly and picks up something off of the floor. I come closer and see that it's the phone.
Johanna holds the phone to her ear. "Dead," she says.
"Broken?" I ask.
"No," Jo replies. "I don't think so. But there's a weird tone. Come on." She tosses the phone onto her couch and together we move into the kitchen.
If the bedroom was bad, and the living room worse, the kitchen is a complete disaster. Every cupboard stands open. The refrigerator door is ajar. We step carefully into the kitchen, hearing broken glass crunch under our feet. Johanna plays the light around the room. The floor and every counter top are completely covered by broken glass, plates, cup, bowls, jars and bottles. The contents of jars and bottles mixes with the shards of glass on the counters and floor.
"Fuck," Johanna breathes. "What a freakin' mess."
I follow her into the bathrooms. Water from the toilets has sloshed out onto the floor in both bathrooms. Jo plays the light under each sink, then goes back into the kitchen and repeats the gesture under the kitchen sink.
"Can't see any leaks," she says, breathing a sigh of relief. "That's a good sign." While in the kitchen, Jo opens a drawer and retrieves a tool, then steps outside. I follow close behind. Right now being alone is the last thing I want.
Jo hands me the flashlight. "Shine it over here, Peeta," she says. "No, more to the right. Perfect." I see her bend over with the tool and begin to fuss at a pipe protruding from the ground.
"What're you doing?" I ask.
"Turning off the gas," she replies with a grunt. "There. Done. I didn't smell any gas but figured we better, just to be on the safe side." She bends back down and quickly pulls a lever away from another pipe. "Water's off for now, too." She reaches for the light and I wordlessly hand it back to her.
For the first time I notice her neighbors outside, too. Some, like Jo, appeared to be turning off gas and water. Others just seem to be milling around aimlessly. Jo strides over to a man standing in the middle of the street and I can see them talking quietly. For the first time I can hear sirens in the distance. The sound is strangely reassuring. Professionals are out there, working.
It's then that I notice, as I scan the moonless sky, a pink glow on the horizon off in the distance. As I peer off in the distance I'm aware of Johanna walking back toward me.
"Whatcha lookin' at?" She asks. I point off in the distance.
"Why's the sky pink over that way?" I ask. Jo follows my arm as I point at the pink glow.
"Maintown is that way," she answers after a moment. "That pink glow is a fire burning somewhere."
"A fire?" I ask in alarm.
"Yeah," she replies. "Don't worry about it. It's probably in Maintown. Long way away. Come on back inside. It's cold out here." Jo turns to go back into the house. I follow closely, suddenly aware of the chill, early fall air.
Back in the house, Johanna quickly rummages through a sideboard in her living room, coming up with a bottle and a pair of glasses. "Come on," she says, walking back into her bedroom. I follow. Her room surprisingly shows little evidence of the quake - but then again, aside from her enormous bed, there's very little else in the room. Jo plops down on her bed and pats the mattress next to her. I hesitate for a moment.
"What?" She asks, amusement in her voice? "Afraid I'm gonna jump your bones or something? Don't worry, Peeta Pure-heart - I'm just inviting you to sit. Or would you rather use the floor?"
Sheepishly, I carefully sit on the edge of the bed. "Here," Jo says. I turn to see her hand me one of the glasses that she had brought into her room.
"What is it?" I ask, as I carefully sniff at the liquid, recoiling a bit as I inhale the fumes of something strongly alcoholic. "I'm sorry, Jo - I don't -"
"Shut up and drink," Jo says firmly. She carefully puts the flashlight on her headboard, the beam shining straight up.
I take a small, cautious sip. The strong liquor makes me cough a little as I swallow. My mind flashes back to a time, almost two years before, when, in a fit of depression over - who else - Katniss, I had made myself sick by drinking too much. That was one time too many for me. But this - this feels different somehow. I take another sip, finding it go down easier this time.
"Like it?" Johanna asks.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Fourteen year old whiskey," she replies. "Nothing but the best for me or my friends." She touches her glass to mine. "To earthquakes."
"One was enough for me, thanks," I mutter, taking another sip. Yes, it was starting to taste pretty good now. "Does that happen a lot here?"
"That was the biggest I've ever felt," Johanna replies. "There was another pretty good jolt, about fourteen years ago, but compared to this one it was nothing. But we get smaller quakes from time to time."
"Hey," I say, "Shouldn't we be cleaning up or something?"
"Relax, Peg-Leg," she laughs. "No power, no lights, remember? We wait until sunrise - and I know I won't be able to go back to sleep. So we sit and keep each other company until it gets light enough to see."
"Oh," I reply, feeling stupid. "That makes sense."
"Here," Jo says, pouring a little more in my glass.
"Thanks," I mutter, taking another sip, feeling the liquor warm me from the inside out. "I felt a shaking something like that once before - in Twelve."
"I didn't know that you had quakes in Twelve," Jo replies.
"It wasn't a quake," I say softly. "There was an accident in the mine. An explosion. I was at school when it happened. Katniss's father was killed. Gale Hawthorne's dad too."
"Oh, wow," Jo breathes. "I knew her father was dead, but I didn't know how."
"She doesn't talk about it," I say. Now I'm sorry I even brought her up.
"I heard some story about you two," Johanna says softly. "Something about bread."
"Yeah," I choke out.
"Sorry," Jo says contritely. "I didn't mean to -"
"It was about three months after the accident," I say, cutting her off, "She and her sister were starving to death. Her mother had what they call the Sadness. Aurelius calls it severe depression. Katniss was in Town that day, trying to sell some of her sister's old baby clothes for money to buy food. She came to my families' bakery and knocked on the door. My mother yelled at her to go away, called her names - worthless Seam trash was the nicest." I pause and take another, larger swallow.
"Peeta, you don't -"
"I was working in the bakery that day - I remember it was pouring down rain. Speaking of rain, I notice that it's not raining now," I point out.
"It does stop from time to time," Johanna says with a small smile.
"Anyway, I saw Katniss going through our...rooting through our garbage cans for something, anything to eat. My mother yelled at her again and she stopped. I saw her stumble over to an old apple tree near the bakery and just slump to the ground." I take a deep breath as Jo puts her hand on my shoulder. "I knew if I didn't help her that she would die there, under that tree, that night. It used to happen a lot in Twelve. People just dying that way."
I take another drink. "So I decided to burn a couple loaves of bread. When my mother saw them she got pissed and hit me, then told me to feed the bread to our pigs. So I took the bread and went outside - only I didn't feed the pigs with it. I threw both loaves over toward Katniss and ran back inside before my mother could see what I did. But she knew anyway. So I got another beating. But later when I looked outside the bread and Katniss were both gone."
"Wow," Johanna breathes. "True story?"
"Yeah," I whisper. "Every word. When we were both eleven."
Johanna rubs my back gently. "And here all this time I thought it was more Plutarch Heavensbee bullshit."
"That Peeta doesn't exist anymore, Jo," I say. Johanna sits in silence for a moment.
"Are you superstitious, Peeta?" she asks.
"Not really," I reply. "Why?"
"I am," Johanna says. "And if you were, maybe you would be like me and take that quake as a sign."
"A sign of what?" I say as I drain my glass.
"A sign that you really don't belong here."
PART II
Once dawn started to break, Jo and I start to clean. Once it was light enough to see, both of us felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of mess. We decide to just take one room at a time, starting with her room and working toward the front of the house.
Gradually, we put her house back together. Pictures are re-hung on walls, her bookshelves are righted once again ("First chance I get I'm bolting these fuckers to the wall," she grunts as we lift the heavy shelves) and the problem with the mess in the kitchen is solved by me using a snow shovel and her holding a garbage can.
While we work we get several visitors. A man from the power company comes out to inspect the power lines and gas main (his auburn hair reminds me briefly of a long dead girl from my first Games named Finch - that Katniss and I both knew as Foxface). He pronounces the gas main safe and turns the gas back on. We get another visit from the water company, and yet another from the building inspectors, who crawl under the house, checking for foundation damage. I'm impressed with the quick response from all of these different agencies. No serious damage is discovered.
Power is restored around mid-afternoon. Phone service is restored around the same time. Jo and I work steadily until her house is back to some semblance of its original state (although picked up and a mite cleaner - Jo seems to be pretty casual about housekeeping). We don't even take a break until everything is done.
The only real casualty is Jo's Holo-TV. At first glance it appeared unscathed - amazing enough for having a bookshelf basically fall on top of it - but when we tried to plug it back in we discover a connector has pulled completely out of the projection unit. Jo's stereo works fine - we've have music on ever since the power was restored. But the TV is another story.
"I'll head into Maintown tomorrow," she says. "There's a shop there. And I still need to get you some more clothes!"
Dinner that night was out of cans for the most part. I do what I can but, in the end, everything tasted like it came out of a can. Jo adds a visit to the grocers to her errand list. I inform her that I will be joining her tomorrow. She's surprised but doesn't object.
After we eat, Jo takes me outside. Her neighbors - lumberjacks and mill workers for the most part - are staging an impromptu "Earthquake Party," which reminds me a great deal of the get-togethers in Victor's Village after Katniss and I had arrived back home.
Katniss. Even as I mingle among Jo's neighbors, my mind is never far from Katniss. Was Jo right? Should I take this quake as a sign that I don't belong here? I am just so afraid of what may happen - but at the same time I feel horrible for hurting her more.
"Peeta!" Jo calls out. I turn and see her dragging a large, blonde man by the hand over to where I'm standing. "Someone I want you to meet!"
The man looks vaguely familiar as Jo deposits him in front of me. "Peeta Mellark, this is Gunter Broadax," Jo says with a smile. "Gunter has a cousin that I believe you know."
"You have a glass or a cup?" Gunter asks. I nod and hold out my glass, from which I had very carefully been drinking non-alcoholic beverages. Gunter grabs it and produces a ceramic jug. He grabs the cork in his teeth and pulls sharply, opening the jug with an audible popping sound. He splashes a generous amount of liquid in my glass, then hands it back to me and corks his jug.
I cautiously sniff, half expecting the strong, oak smell of whiskey, and instead I smell - apples?
"What is this?" I ask, swirling the liquid around in my glass.
"Applejack." Gunter replies. "Made it myself! Try it!"
I take a small sip and cough. It may smell and taste like apples, but it has a kick. "Delicious," I sputter.
Gunter laughs and claps me on the back. "Glad you like it!" He roars. "My cousin don't make friends easily. He's got nothing but good things to say about you, though. Glad I finally got to meet ya!" Gunter sticks out one large, meaty hand. I look him in the eye as I grasp his hand firmly. Gunter squeezes, increasing the pressure as we shake hands.
He's testing me, I say to myself. He won't find a weak Townie here! I squeeze back, causing him to increase his pressure. I look him in the eye, smile, take another drink, and squeeze his hand even harder. Back and forth we go, until finally Gunter releases my hand with a grin.
"Lars is right about you," Gunter says. "He said that Twelve people are as tough as Sevens." Gunter shakes his hand, flexing his fingers. "I'd say he's right!"
Jo looks at us both and shakes her head. "I'll never understand why men have this testosterone-driven urge to prove their strength to each other!"
"It's a guy thing, Jo," Gunter says with a wink, then turns to me. "So, Peeta Mellark, friend to my cousin - let me first tell you that I believe none of that bullshit on the Holo-TV about what happened between you and the Mockingjay back there in Twelve!"
"Her name is Katniss," I say softly. "Katniss Everdeen. She's not some mythical creature - she's just a girl." I take another swallow of applejack, feeling the pleasant buzz in my head. "An incredible, wonderful girl..."
"Do you want to go home?" Johanna asks, looking at me intently.
"Home here, or home there?" I ask.
"Your choice," Jo replies softly. "I'll support whatever you decide."
I take another swallow of applejack while I mull over what to say. What do I want? It was so clear in the Capitol - so apparent that I had to disappear for Katniss's sake. Now - now I'm just not sure any more. Before I can say anything I become aware of Gunter talking again.
" - married soon!" He says. "I would never have believed it! Especially after Birgitta!"
I peer at Gunter, trying to focus on his face. This applejack is pretty strong, I say to myself. "What?" I find myself asking.
"My cousin, Lars," Gunter repeats, "He's getting married soon. Some Twelve girl named Dolly."
"Delly," I reply, correcting him. "Her name is Delly. Delly Cartwright. We've been friends forever."
"That's it! Delly!" Gunter says. "I never would have believed it - right, Jo?"
"It's a miracle," Jo says wryly. "So, Peg-Leg - what do you want to do?"
"Keep busy," I reply suddenly. "Gunter, what do you do? For work, I mean?"
Gunter laughs. "What most everyone else does! Lumberjack in summer, work in the mill fall, winter and spring. Why?"
"I need a job," I reply simply. Johanna looks at me in amazement.
"That's your decision?" She asks sharply.
"For now," I snap. "How about it, Gunter? Anything I could do in the mill?"
"I don't get it," Gunter says in confusion. "You're a Victor! You don't need to work!"
"Without pay," I add quickly. "Call it therapy. I just need to do something!"
"Peeta, you don't need to do this!" Johanna says.
"Yes I do, Jo," I reply. I give her a small smile then turn to face Gunter. "Can you help me out?"
"I'll talk to the boss in the morning," Gunter replies. "We're still cleaning up down there. I'm shift lead. I guess I can use general labor."
"Thanks a lot, Broadax!" Johanna snaps, before stomping away.
I watch Jo walk back into her house, slamming the door behind her. I shrug my shoulders. "Looks like she doesn't like my idea." I drain my glass. "Thanks for the drink, Gunter. Nice meeting you. Hope you'll have some good news for me soon." I extend my hand again and we shake, without a test of strength this time.
"I'll talk to you soon, Peeta," Gunter says as he turns to go. "Goodnight. And good luck with Jo!"
"Goodnight," I reply as I turn toward the house, while still trying to figure out exactly why I asked for a job in the first place.
PART III
I sink tiredly onto the couch after the end of my shift. I've been working for a little more than three weeks. I'm no stranger to hard work - I worked in my families' bakery for years before my Reaping. I survived two Hunger Games and a war. But now, I can never remember being so tired.
Johanna walks into the living room, glances at me, and plops into her favorite chair. "Hard day?" she asks with a smirk.
I lay my head back and close my eyes, and in response I simply raise up my right hand and extend my middle finger. Johanna's response is a short, barking laugh.
"You've been hanging around me too long, Mellark," she says. "You act more and more like me every day!"
"You're a bad influence, Mason," I reply. "And a corrupting one at that!"
"Hey, I don't drag you out with me every night -"
"Yes, you do," I say.
" - and even if I did, you could always come back home." Jo finishes.
She's right. I could go home. But I don't. Because when it's quiet, and I'm not keeping busy, I think too much. And it's not good when I think too much. Like right now. I sigh deeply.
Jo glances over at me, then stands up and goes to the sideboard. She pulls out a small pouch and two pipes, then sits back down next to me. Wordlessly she packs both pipes and hands one to me, along with a match. As she packs her pipe I light the match and touch it to the contents of the pipe bowl, puffing until the pipe stays lit. I inhale the sweet smoke deeply, holding it in for a moment before letting it out.
I had to admit that the sativa here in Seven was much smoother than the herb that Nova and the River Clan had introduced to me last summer. Jo calls it cannabis, or just "weed." Smoking a pipe full has become a nightly ritual for us over the last couple of weeks or so, ever since she had a front row seat for my first hijacking seizure since my escape from the hospital.
I had only been working for a few days by then, coming home tired and sore, but with a clear head. But that night was different. Different because of the phone calls.
Haymitch was first. He had gone back to Four to help Una and Katniss's doctor, Benignus Stone, deal with Katniss, who had become increasingly difficult and uncooperative. So his call was to basically yell at me (after first confirming that I had survived the earthquake - there had been some deaths, mostly in Maintown), calling me a selfish spoiled little boy who was only thinking about myself. Needless to say, our conversation did not end well.
Una Everdeen was next. She adopted a different tactic, expressing her concern and understanding what I was going though, then changing to a pleading tone, and finally anger when I tearfully refused to return to Twelve.
"Haymitch was right!" Una had said angrily. "I should have known better than to expect you to be any different, Peeta - but you're just like your father! In the end, thinking only of yourself! Do you have any idea what this is doing to Katniss? Do you?!"
I could feel anger welling up inside me. I had risked my life time and time again to save Katniss! And, believe me, I felt plenty guilty already. And when she brought my father into it - well, what I said next was fueled entirely by emotion.
"And who were you thinking of fourteen years ago, Una?" I found myself asking.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she had snapped back at me.
"Does Katniss know about you and my father? And I'm not talking about before you met Katniss's father, either."
Silence. Finally, in a small, trembling voice, she replies, "How...how did you find out?"
"My Dad didn't tell me, if that's what you mean."
"Then how -"
"Does it matter?" I asked her. "Does it matter how I found out or how I know? All that matters is that I do know - just like I know that Katniss and I have the same sister."
Silence. Then, "No. No, it can't be. I - we were careful. And it was just...we were only - it was just that one night!"
"I saw proof. Prim was my half sister. And Katniss's half sister."
Johanna's eye went wide as she heard my end of the conversation. The number of people that know this secret just doubled, I remember saying to myself.
"Peeta. Are you - did you -"
"Tell her?" I had laughed bitterly at the thought. "No. We aren't exactly speaking. But that doesn't mean that I don't think that she should know. She has a right to know."
And that's how that conversation ended. I could feel myself losing control and could do nothing about it without medication or sativa.
The last call was the worst. President Paylor herself called, issuing vague threats about freezing my Victors' assets, taking me back into "protective" custody, and threatening to charge Jo with being an "accessory," whatever that meant. As she talked I could feel the attack coming on and by the time I had hung up the phone it was full-blown.
All I could do was stagger back, bumping into a chair as I did so. I spun and grabbed the back of the chair in a death grip, closing my eyes and gasping as waves of false memories ripped through my brain. I was only dimly aware of someone rubbing my back and speaking to me in low, soothing tones. It was Jo, of course, helping me back to reality.
The very next day, she went to Maintown and returned with a supply of cannabis, along with smoking pipes. That same night, after we both smoked a bowl full of the herb, I went out with her for the first time, to some club in Maintown. I stayed there with her the entire time, mostly watching out for her, and paid for it the next day from lack of sleep.
Now, tonight, our ritual finished, she gathers up our smoking supplies and returns them to the sideboard. She injects her sedative and turns on the Holo-TV while she waits for it to take effect. I go to shower and get cleaned up.
After I shower and brush my teeth (I had decided to grow a beard, although I can't say that I'm all that impressed with the results yet), I pull on clean clothes and rejoin Johanna in the living room. The sedative, combined with the cannabis, was working well tonight. Jo gives me a crooked grin as she stands up and walks into her bedroom. Shortly after I head her door close I can hear the sound of water running - and no screaming.
I turn back and gaze at the images projected from the Holo-TV. Some sort of news broadcast. The words "District Twelve" scroll across the top of the image so I decide to pay attention. The sound is turned off - Johanna's usual custom - so I turn the sound back on and settle in to see what the program is all about. The camera zooms in on a small hovercraft coming in for a landing, then pans back a bit. A crowd has gathered and I can see many faces that I recognize, causing a pang of homesickness. I see Thom and Leevy, Delly with Lars, Rory Hawthorne standing with Callisto Birch, Mikel, Nova, and Jahn Winter, and many others.
Once the hovercraft is down the back ramp opens and I see several figures inside make their way down the ramp. I can see that it's an overcast, rainy day in Twelve. As I watch the passengers descend the ramp, one small, dark haired girl catches my eye and makes my heart skip a bit.
Katniss.
"The return of the Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen, to her home in District Twelve today takes place under the shadow of the mystery of exactly why her co-Victor and fiancée, Peeta Mellark, had suddenly disappeared from Victor's Mercy Hospital following his favorable competency hearing that had been conducted by none other than the High Tribunal of Panem," the voice of the commentator says, as I see Galen appear next to Katniss, accompanied by Alexa Morris and Amalthea Loveland. In spite of myself I smile and mentally thank Galen for hiring Amalthea. "Peeta, who has been confirmed to be living in District Seven, has refused all requests for interviews, but sources close to both Peeta and Katniss have repeatedly stated that Peeta's decision for his sudden move has been motivated purely by his desire to avoid the possibility of his attacking Katniss again as a result of the long term effects of the forced tracker jacker venom poisoning that he endured while a prisoner of the Snow regime."
I study Katniss intently. She looks thin and pale. I notice that she's wearing a hat - something that I can't ever remember seeing her do before. She flashes quick smiles at her - our - friends as Galen, Alexa, and Amalthea help her to a waiting car.
She really must be weak, I say to myself, if she can't manage the walk back to the Village. Another thought suddenly strikes me. I wonder if her mother told her about Prim? I notice that Una is conspicuously absent.
The newscast cuts over to an interview with Doctor Aurelius, talking about the long term effects of hijacking, then to a tall, gray haired, dark skinned man that the interviewer introduces as "Doctor Benignus Stone," who talks about the long term psychological effects of traumatic head injuries, and, finally, to my shock, an interview with Katniss herself.
She's sitting in her living room, now wearing a scarf knotted over her head - to cover scars? is the thought that goes through my mind - with a fire blazing cheerily in the fireplace behind her. I notice with relief that she's being interviewed by our friend Cressida.
"Katniss, first of all, welcome home and thank you for agreeing to talk to me today. I know you must be very tired."
"Thank you, Cressida. Yes, I am a bit tired. I'll try not to fall asleep while we're talking.
Cressida laughs at this. "If it gets to be too much, just say so. You must be happy to be home!"
"Sure. I guess."
"I know that this isn't the homecoming that you expected. Someone is missing."
"Yes."
"Have you spoken with him at all since - that day?"
"No."
"Have you wanted to speak with him?"
"Yes." I hear her voice catch a bit. "Very much."
"Then why haven't you?"
"I don't know. Maybe he's afraid. Maybe I'm afraid."
"What do you think he would be afraid of?"
"Hurting me again."
"And why do you think you might be afraid?"
A long pause. "...Maybe...of being hurt...I don't know."
"Are you afraid?"
Another long pause, and when she answers it's almost a whisper. "Yes."
"I'm sorry, Katniss. We can stop if you want."
"No! I mean, no, I'm fine, thank you, Cressida."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"I see that you're holding what appears to be a letter." I notice for the first time that Katniss has a letter - MY letter - clutched in her hand. "Is it from Peeta?"
"Yes."
"And you mentioned before our interview here today that you had sent him a letter also. What did you tell him? And, I think the question that's in everyone's mind is - did you forgive him?"
"No. I didn't forgive him."
"You didn't?" Cressida sounds shocked. "You did tell me that you still love him, though?"
"Yes," Katniss replies in a choked voice. She pauses to wipe her eyes. I can feel myself tearing up and know that I should turn the Holo-TV off, but I can't.
"I didn't forgive him," Katniss continues, "Because Peeta did nothing wrong. What happened was not his fault. He was being used and controlled by an evil woman. There's nothing to forgive."
"You're talking about Drusilla Nivosus?"
"Yes."
"She's still missing, you know."
"I heard."
"Are you worried, Katniss? About Nivosus, I mean."
"No."
"You're not concerned about the possibility of her showing up, to perhaps..."
"'Finish the job?' No. And if she does, I'll take care of her. Personally." Katniss's voice had grown cold while talking about Drusilla Nivosus. I have no doubt that Katniss would do just what she had said, and "take care of her personally."
"Katniss, I want to thank you for taking the time today, on your homecoming, to talk with me," Cressida says. "Before we go, would you like to say anything to Peeta Mellark directly?"
"Yes," Katniss says softly. She turns toward the camera, and the camera zooms in, framing her face. "Peeta. I know why you're doing what you're doing. And I understand. I really do. But, like I said, there's nothing to forgive. Please come home. Come home to me. We've been through too much together to be apart now. Don't let Snow win, Peeta! I know you're stronger than that!" Her voice is steady and controlled - the only emotion that she shows is a solitary tear track tracing down each cheek.
I can feel my own tears run down my face as Cressida finishes the broadcast. I jump slightly when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to see Johanna standing behind me. She's dressed and ready to go out.
"Hey," she says softly. "I saw...and heard. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I reply.
"You're killing yourself, Peeta," Jo says gently. "And Katniss too." She sinks down next to me on the couch. "In this great noble sacrifice that you think you're making for her safety, you'll end up killing her just as dead. This may come as a shock to you, but I actually care for Brainless...and for you, too. At least think about what she said."
I stand up abruptly. "I will," I say, knowing that I'm lying through my teeth. "Ready? Let's go." Without waiting for her I turn and head for the door.
I never thought I would hear myself saying this, but I need a drink. Or several.
PART IV
To my surprise, we stay in Camp One tonight. We head to a lively lumberjack saloon called the "Naughty Pine," whatever that means. I take my usual station at the bar, while Jo begins to "mingle," as she calls it, with the other patrons. The saloon is old, noisy, crowded, and smells strange.
In short, the perfect place to put Katniss out of my mind for a while.
I drink slowly, nursing my mug of the thick, dark beer that's so popular here, and watch Johanna. Jo is popular with everyone, male and female alike. If she's not on the dance floor dancing, she's at the bar shooting whiskey with the lumberjacks. I attract my own fair share of attention from girls that are intrigued by the novelty of a young, male Victor and very quickly I become adept at politely rejecting their advances.
Most everyone around here now knows that I'm here, and more importantly, why I'm here. Every so often someone would plop onto the bar stool next to mine, chat for a few minutes, and then wander off. But they never stayed for long. So that's why, as midnight approaches and the crowd begins to rapidly thin, it comes as a surprise that someone sits down next to me - and stays.
At first, the stranger didn't say anything. He was probably in his mid twenties, very average looking, but definitely not from District Seven originally. He simply didn't have the right "look." After a while it dawns on me that he looks familiar, but I'm not able to readily place why.
The stranger was the first to speak. "Hey."
"Hey," I reply, raising my glass toward him.
"You're Peeta Mellark." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yeah," I say. "Where do I know you from?"
"I joined Gunter's crew a week ago." That's it. I knew I had seen him before.
"You're not from Seven originally, are you?" I ask.
"No." The stranger pauses, looking into his glass. "I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you."
"I'm at work every day," I reply easily.
"No," he says quickly. "Not there."
"Why not?" I ask. He looks down at his glass again.
"People are...looking for me," he murmurs.
"Join the club," I say, raising my glass again. "I know the feeling."
"No," he says, shaking his head. "It's - well, different with you."
I frown. So he's running away from something, just like me. But - I suddenly realize that I knew him from some place other than Gunter's crew.
"These people that are looking for you," I ask, "Where are they from?"
"District Thirteen."
"I knew you there, didn't I?" I ask. He nods.
"I'm sure you saw me there. I remember seeing you there also."
"What was your job in Thirteen? During the Rebellion, I mean."
The stranger pauses for a long time before answering. When he does, he's so quiet that I almost miss what he says.
"Hoverplane pilot."
"What kind of hoverplanes?" I ask, feeling the blood pounding in my temples.
"Bombers." He's looking down at his glass again.
"From Thirteen?" He nods miserably. I stare at him for a long moment, then scan the room. I spot Johanna in a corner laughing with some lumberjacks.
"Don't go anywhere," I say to the stranger, as I get up and head towards Johanna.
"Come to join the party, Stumpy?" She asks with a smirk.
I ignore her. "I'm tired, Jo. I'm heading out. Will you be okay?"
She looks at me sharply. "Everything okay? Who's that guy you're talking to at the bar?"
"I'm fine," I lie. "He's on my crew at work. We both have a long day tomorrow. That's all."
"I'll see you at home, then," Johanna says, a worried look on her face. I quickly kiss her cheek.
"I'm fine," I lie again. "See you later." I turn and hurry back to the bar and take the stranger by the arm. "Come on." He follows without resistance as we step out into the cold, drizzly night.
We hunch our shoulders against the cold and wet and begin to walk. "I have a feeling you have something you want to tell me." I say at last.
"Yeah."
"So talk."
"You found out the truth about the bombing of Twelve." He says.
"We had a theory," I reply, "A theory that we couldn't prove one way or the other. I thought it was supposed to be a secret, though."
The stranger laughs humorlessly. "I have a source or two myself," he explains. "And it's not theory. I know. I was there."
I spin, grabbing him by the shoulder, my fist lashing out, feeling the sting in my hand as I connect with his mouth. The stranger goes down, blood dripping from his mouth as he stares back up at me.
"You killed my family," I hiss. "You son of a bitch. You murdered over nine thousand people. And the bombing in the Capitol? Was that you, too?"
"Are you going to kill me?"
"I should. You killed thousands - and murdered innocent children in the Capitol." I can feel the fury, the cold rage, building up inside me. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't."
The stranger pulls himself to his feet, spitting blood onto the rain-slick street. "It doesn't matter," he says at last. "I deserve it. But I wanted you and the other survivors from Twelve to know the whole story. You have a right to know."
"And what is 'the whole story?'" I ask, my voice shaking with anger.
"We were lied to," he replies. "By Coin. She had hand-picked us. Brought us in for a private briefing before the Quell started. Told us that we would provide the spark that would ignite the final Revolution. I wanted it so badly. I lost relatives in the epidemic that we had a few years before. I wanted revenge."
"So it was Coin," I breathe.
"Only eight of us knew about the plan. Coin, we six pilots, and a highly placed official in Snow's government. What they were calling a double agent. Someone with enough authority to issue attack orders on their own. This person had suggested to Snow the idea of destroying a district from the air as a show of strength, without ever specifying what district or when, and Snow was all for the idea. It was one plan of many to try to subdue the uprisings that were taking place everywhere in Panem at the time. So, as far as Snow knew, the bombing was carried out by the Capitol. Snow didn't suspect that one of his ministers was actually working against him, and knew that the destruction of Twelve would inflame the other districts into full Rebellion."
"Coin told you all this?" I ask in amazement.
"Yes," the stranger replies. "We were chosen for our loyalty as well as our hatred of the Capitol. But Coin did lie about something very important. She told us that Twelve would be evacuated long before our first bomb dropped - that we were, in effect, bombing an empty city. None of us had a problem with that - and none of us would have gone along with the mission if we had known that Twelve was very much populated. We were all shocked when the survivors were less than one tenth of the original population."
"How did Coin explain why Twelve wasn't evacuated?" I ask. I don't know whether to believe him or not.
"She called us all together after the survivors were rescued," the stranger explains, "and said that the Peacekeepers in Twelve had unexpectedly initiated a complete dusk to dawn curfew in response to unrest in other districts. We desperately wanted to believe her - she had been our leader for years - one of the best that we ever had."
I mulled this over. I knew Coin would be capable of something like this, and I knew that she wouldn't hesitate to lie to the people that she needed to carry out these acts. Was this man, along with the other pilots, truly innocent?
"What about the City Center bombing in the Capitol?" I ask.
"By then, just my pilot and myself were still alive out of the original six. Coin briefed us personally - said that we needed to turn popular opinion against Snow. She said that we would be using a special bomb against Capitolite refugees in a hoverplane disguised as a Capitol bomber. She very carefully omitted the fact that all of the refugees were children, and that our own medical crews would most likely be killed as well." The stranger looks at me with haunted eyes. "I wanted to end the war quickly, but both my pilot and I realized that Coin had been using us and lying to us the entire time. But when Coin died, we both figured that was the end of it - until my pilot was found dead in February."
"I was told it was a suicide," I say.
The stranger laughs humorlessly. "I'm sure that's what they want you to believe, but it's bullshit. My guess is that this double agent knew who we were and survived the war, and wanted to shut us up once and for all. I went into hiding but it still took me almost two more months to get out of the Capitol and make my way here."
My original anger towards this man has disappeared. Everything about his story made sense - and as only a handful of people really knew about the theory of Thirteen bombing Twelve, I'm sure that what he was saying was the truth.
"Just a piece in their games," I mutter.
"What?"
"Nothing," I quickly say. "You just - reminded me of something."
"I need to know something," he says suddenly.
"You want to know if I'm gonna kill you, or turn you in, or something?" I ask.
"Yes," he replies quietly.
"What would you do if you were me?" I ask.
"I don't know...something. I deserve something."
"You know about my hijacking?" I ask. He nods once, quickly.
"You were hijacked too," I say softly. "Maybe not with tracker jacker venom, but Coin knew exactly how to get you to do what she wanted you to do. She used your loyalty and hatred of the Capitol instead of venom to get what she wanted. And it was easier for you to continue to believe her than for you to think of yourself as a mass murderer."
"So what happens to me?" he asks, somewhat plaintively.
"From me? Nothing. If you feel like you have to turn yourself in, then do what you need to do. But I'm not going to kill you, or beat you up, or turn you in."
"You...you forgive me?" He asks incredulously.
"No," I reply firmly. "I don't forgive you. But I understand you." I turn to walk home, then stop and turn back toward him, still standing there in the rain.
"Do me a favor," I say.
"Anything."
"Find another crew to work on. In another Camp. I don't want to ever see you again."
He hesitates for a moment before agreeing. I turn and walk home. Jo's still out. When I get home I glance at Jo's phone. The message light is on and I search through her Missed Calls menu, and stiffen when I see the numbers that have been calling over the last few hours.
Seven calls - all from Katniss Everdeen's number.
PART V
True to his word, I never see mystery pilot from District Thirteen again. Two weeks after our meeting, while at work one day, I overhear some of my crew mates talking during lunch and catch one of them saying something about the "guy from Thirteen."
"What about him?" I ask sharply.
My crew mate, an enormous lumberjack that I only know as "Moose," says, "I have a friend in Camp Fourteen. The guy from Thirteen moved there and got a job on my buddies crew. He didn't show up for work for a couple days so his foreman went to his place. Found him, dead two days. Morphling overdose. I didn't know you knew him."
"I didn't, not well," I say. "Just talked to him one night at the Pine."
"Damned shame," Moose mutters. "Strange guy, but a decent worker. Almost as good as you, Victor." He says, punching me playfully on the arm.
Just another piece in their games.
I was in a foul mood that night when I return home. I had never told Johanna about the mystery pilot. I didn't even know his name. But she knew that something was wrong the instant I walked through the door.
Jo's learned to not question my moods. I slump onto the couch and turn up the volume on the Holo-TV. Jo says that she actually cooked for a change and that I might even like it for once. I give her a small smile in response and, after telling me that dinner would be ready in an hour, hands me a filled pipe and matches and sits next to me on the couch.
I slow puff at the pipe, the calming smoke relaxing me. Idly I tap at the Holo-TV controls until I land on CNN - the Capitol News Network. I do a double take when I see Cressida's face appear on the projection, with what clearly is the District Twelve Justice Building in the background.
"Today is a day of celebration all over Panem," she says, smiling into the camera, "As the results from the first truly free election in well over one hundred years have been certified and announced. President Jersey Paylor, as expected, has been elected by popular vote to remain in the office of President. Here in Twelve, Mayor Thom McElroy was elected in a surprisingly close contest against his chief opponent, Mikel Winter, late of the Out-District River Clan. Both Mayor McElroy and Mister Winter have been working closely together since the merging of the Twelve Clans with District Twelve two short months ago, and, in spite of being political rivals, remain close friends. Mister Winter has enthusiastically agreed to serve as Vice Mayor of District Twelve."
"As expected, Haymitch Abernathy has been elected to serve as one of two District Representatives for District Twelve, along with Elder Willem Winter of the River Clan. Both new representatives will travel to the Capitol after January First to be sworn in and to assume their new duties."
"But the real reason that I'm here in District Twelve on this snowy fall day is not to report election results," Cressida says with a smile, "But instead, to cover an absolutely epic triple wedding that not only brings several districts together, but district and out-district as well. Now, I've never been a social correspondent, but I absolutely could not refuse to cover what is proving to be not only one of the first cross-district weddings in the New Panem, but the first between district and out-district."
"Today, in the District Twelve Justice Building," Cressida gestures behind her, "Three weddings will take place simultaneously, with Mayor Thom McElroy marrying District Twelve resident Leevy Alexander, Lars Broadax of District Seven marrying Delly Cartwright of District Twelve, and Jahn Winter, former out-district member of the River Clan, marrying Bonnie Osnaburg, one of the brave District Eight refugees that first carried news of uprisings to Katniss Everdeen."
I have to smile at the news. Three simultaneous weddings. And Haymitch a politician! I bet he loves that.
"As can be expected, trying to merge four different marriage ceremonies into one is not without its difficulties, but all of District Twelve is eagerly anticipating the event - and Katniss Everdeen has just arrived at the Justice Building to attend the ceremonies!"
In the background, I can see people arriving, and, as the camera zooms in, I see Katniss, looking much healthier, but still wearing a scarf on her head, turn and smile at the camera and Cressida as they both approach. I feel that familiar empty feeling inside - then do a double take when I see that Katniss is not alone at this event.
Standing next to her, her arm entwined in his, looking resplendent in full dress Defense Forces uniform, is Captain Gale Hawthorne.
"What did you expect, Peeta?" Johanna asks. "Did you expect her to shut herself in and pine away for you forever?"
"I don't know," I mutter. I've really blown it this time. I can't believe how much it hurt to see her with him.
"And all they were doing was going to a wedding," Johanna says reasonably. "I've gone to weddings escorted by male friends - emphasis on the word friends. Her with him means nothing."
"I'm going to bed," I announce.
"I'm sure that will solve everything," Jo says sarcastically. "I'm going out. As usual. If you get hungry later on your dinner will be in the fridge."
Johanna storms out a short while later, slamming the door emphatically on her way out. I sleep fitfully, finally getting up and picking at the dinner that Jo had left for me (I had to admit it was pretty decent - something called "meat loaf") and smoking another bowl of cannabis before going back to bed.
I don't awaken when Jo comes home - but I do when the phone rings at four in the morning. Jo answers it sleepily.
"What? Oh. Hi to you too. Stumpy? He's sleeping. Yeah. Yeah, he saw it. Wasn't worth a shit the rest of the night. Look...listen, Brainless. Between you and him I swear I'm gonna lose my fucking mind. Do you want me to see if he's awake? I doubt if he'll take the call even if he is. I swear you two are the most stubborn people in Panem! You're what? Oh, shit. I hear District Three is nice this time of year - maybe Beetee can use some company. No, never mind, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Okay - alright, I'll tell him. No, it's okay, I know you lower districts are early to bed and early to rise. Okay...and Katniss? I'm taking care of him. He's okay. Alright. Bye."
As soon as Johanna hangs up the phone I hear her get out of bed and pad over to my room. She stands in the doorway for a moment before speaking.
"Don't bother faking. I know you're awake."
"I'm surprised you answered the phone," I reply quietly. "Sorry she woke you."
"She has three messages for you." Jo says.
"Go ahead," I sigh. I wish my heart would stop pounding.
"One. She still loves you. Two. Gale went to the weddings as a friend only. She wanted me to emphasize that. Three." Jo pauses.
My mind was still wrapped around a friend only. "Huh?" I mutter stupidly.
"Exactly." Jo replies. "Three. Expect to see her sometime soon. She said to tell you that she's not letting you let Snow win. That's all, Peg-Leg. Goodnight."
I can almost see the smile on Johanna's face as she pads back to bed.