Chapter 46: Last of the Victors

The finale of the 87th Annual Hunger Games is probably moments away.

I am sitting in the Mentor's Bar with Grandpa, Mama and Daddy. Zephyr is also with us, playing cards with Mr. Finnick. I am reading a book, since I'm not allowed to have any drinks, just waiting for someone to yell or something and indicate that something is happening. Sure enough, Mr. Brutus suddenly cries out:

"Holy shit! Look!"

I glance up and place my book on the bar. On the monitors in front of us, I can see the girl from District 10, armed with a bow and arrow, sprint to the top of the ruined satellite tower, part of the city remains that make up this year's arena. Two of her allies are with her. Just then, three other tributes surround them. Suddenly, I can see the District 10 girl aim her bow, there's a brilliant flash of light, and then -

The screens turn to black.

"Yo, what's happening?" calls out Mr. Cato. "Turn the screens back on!"

There's a thunderous boom as the door to the bar is kicked in. Peacekeepers storm in, armed with guns. Cato rounds on them. "What the hell? This is Victors Only -"

A guard jams the butt of his gun into Cato's back and knocks him to the ground. There's a scream. I scoot of my stool and run to Zephyr as the bar dissolves into chaos.

I suddenly spy Mama in the crowd. She is struggling with guards.

"Mama!" Her eyes find mine.

"RUNN!" she screams. Then, I see a burst of gunfire and distinctly hear Daddy's scream.

"NO!" I yell as a force bulldozes into me and my brother. We land in a heap under the bar. I smell liquor.

"Crawl!" my grandfather orders, and the unusual seriousness to his voice compels me to obey him. I follow him and Zephyr on all fours to an emergency door. We stand just as Grandpa is opening it.

A body slams into the metal from the other side. I see white plating. Peacekeepers! With unusual agility, Grandpa, slams the door back into place, trapping the guard into the jam so that only his gun arm sticks out. Grandpa moves like a machine, jabbing an elbow through the gap into the guard's face.

"Get back!" he roars, and it's unclear whether he is speaking to the adversary or to my brother and me. Zephyr and I back up, just in case.

It's a good thing we do, for as Grandpa and the Peacekeeper grapple with the gun, the former gets his hands on it. Gunfire sprays into the floor, and I let out a yelp. Grandpa then slams his shoulder into the door while twisting away the gun; I hear the Peacekeeper let out a scream.

POW! POW! POW! Grandpa is now firing down the stairwell beyond the door and there are yells. He soon stops and seizes my brother and me.

"Come on, both of you! This way!" Keeping our heads down, we stumble down the stairwell past the dead bodies of Peacekeepers. Grandpa leads us through a series of twisty passageways until at last, we emerge out onto the street.

The Capitol is in chaos. People are running, screaming, calling for help. I see fires popping up along storefronts. Grandpa spies a limo parked on the sidewalk. Sticking the machine gun into the driverside window, he forces whomever is at the wheel to let us aboard. He ushers me and Zephyr into the backseat.

"Grandpa Haymitch, what's happening?" I cry.

"We need to get out of the city."

That doesn't answer my question, but I keep my mouth shut. At gunpoint, the driver begins to drive us out of the Capitol until we are backed up in traffic.

"Why have we stopped?" Zephyr whines. Grandpa leans into the front seat to get a better look. His eyes grow wide.

"Shit." He begins to push us to the door. "Out of the car. And stay close!" As soon as we are out of the limo, Grandpa takes Zephyr and I in each hand and we begin to run down the city streets, back the way we have come. I chance a furtive glance back. Just approaching our abandoned limo, I see a familiar face of white hair. Then, a roar, reverberating over the city:

"ABERNATHY!" At the call of his last name, Grandpa begins to drag us along as he runs faster. Spying a random office building, he pushes us inside. We climb stairs until we burst onto a long balcony, running for the railing. Incredibly, when I look behind us, I can see President Snow. Seeing him tailing us is so eerie and inexplicable, you would think he was a ghost.

"1224!" he yells.

We reach the balcony and scramble over. Grandpa drops down first, then Zpehyr and I each fall into his arms. We now run blindly down the maze of alleys and side streets between the Capitol buildings. Sound seems to reverberate around, and I can eerily hear the President's voice echoing. I panic when we reach a dead end. It halts us right beside the Tribute Training Center.

Grandpa is breathing hard. I can hear calls and shouts from Capitol military forces drawing closer; they are clearly looking for us.

Running out of options, Grandpa finds a rope attached to a grappling hook by a dumpster. He lassoes the thing to the side of the Center. Then, with Zephyr and me on his back, he begins to scale the skyscraper. I can hear him grunting and groaning from the Herculean effort.

At last, we reach a narrow stone ledge and pull ourselves onto it. Grandpa makes us all lie flat on our backs so we can see the full moon floating above us.

Footsteps and other noise approach the Center. Then, I hear the frustrated roar of the President: "ABERNATHY!"

Grandpa just closes his eyes shut as if in silent prayer. After a few long, tense moments, the footsteps move away.


I have no idea what time it is as I follow the remnants of my family through the now eerily quiet city. Trudging along, I frankly don't care. All I know is that it's way past my bedtime. Mama and Daddy -

Stop, I think to myself. Don't dwell on them. They are in a better place now.

But there is one thing I can't stop dwelling on…. I look to my grandfather.

"Grandpa Haymitch….. what does '1224' mean?"

He takes a long breath before answering me:

"Throughout history, every tribute who has ever competed in the Hunger Games has been given a number, based on the order in which they were reaped. I was the last tribute reaped for the Second Quarter Quell, so my number became 24 x 49 + 48 = 1224."

I quietly digest this. "So…. what was Daddy's number? And Mama's? And Father's?"

Grandpa just smirks. "Well, you've been doing your timetables for school. Do the math."

I calculate in my head. 24 x 74, plus adding an extra 24 because of the double odds in Grandpa's Games, and I get….. a perfect 1800.

Daddy would have then been 1823, as he told me he was reaped second-to-last for his unique Quell.

And Mama….. another 23 makes 1846.

I nod to myself. These numbers at least begin to quantify some closure that I feel will occur someday. Not now, just…. someday.

Suddenly, as we step into a deserted street, a car comes tearing down it and serves to a stop just in front of us. Grandpa throws his arms up, keeping Zephyr and I back. The machine gun he still carries does not have many bullets left, but maybe it will be just enough.

A man with a balding blonde head of hair steps out from behind the wheel. "Haymitch!" he calls. "I come in peace."

Grandpa doesn't move, but I see his body unclench in the harsh glare of the car headlights. "Plutarch?"

"You know whose side I'm on, Haymitch," the Head Peacekeeper placates. "I can be your ticket out of here. You just have to be brave enough to punch it."

Grandpa nods. "In that case….. help us find a safe place. We need…. we need to disappear."

Plutarch nods back and beckons us to the car. "Come with me."

And together, I step with the only family I have left into an uncertain future.


A/N: I know many of you are screaming and sobbing at your computer, "Why? Why? Why?" I get it. But this is not Katniss and Peeta's story anymore. It passes on to the new generation.

Also, Haymitch is the Last of the Victors. I enjoyed having him show of his Bryan Mills/Jason Bourne badass side. With a little bit of Hugh Jackman's fugitive Jean Valjean thrown in.

Review, review, review! Thanks to everyone who has so far!