The grace period has ended. Perhaps Snow had them digging through the night. As soon as the fire died down anyway. They found Boggs's remains, briefly felt reassured, and then, as the hours went by without further trophies, began to suspect. At some point, they realized that they had been tricked. And Snow can't tolerate be made to look like a fool. It doesn't matter whether they tracker us to the second apartment or assumed we went underground. They know we are down her now and they've unleashed something, a pack of mutts probably, bent on finding me.
"Katniss." I jump at the proximity of the sound. Look fanatically for its source, bow loaded, seeking a target to hit. "Katniss." Peeta's lips are barely moving, but there's no doubt, the name came out of him. Just when I thought he was a little better, when I thought he was inching his way back to me, here is proof of how deep Snow's poison went. "Katniss." Peeta's programmed to respond to the hissing chorus, to join the hunt. He's beginning to stir. There's no choice. I position the arrow to penetrate his brain. He'll barely feel a thing. Suddenly, he's sitting up, eyes wide in alarm, short of breath. "Katniss!" He whips his head towards me, but he doesn't seem to notice my bow, or the waiting arrow. "Katniss! Get out of here!"
I hesitate, His voice is alarmed, but not insane. "Why? What's making that sound?"
"I don't know. Only that it has to kill you" say Peeta. "Run! Get out! Go!"
After my own moment of confusion, I conclude that I don't have to shot him. "Whatever it is, it's after me. It might be a good time to split up."
"But we're your guard," says Jackson.
"And your crew," says Cressida.
"I'm not leaving you," Gale says.
I look at the crew, armed with nothing but cameras and clipboards. And then there's Finnick with two guns and a trident. I suggest that he gives one of his guns to Castor. Eject the blank magazine from Peeta's, load it with a real one, and arm Pollux. Since Gale and I have our bows, we hand our guns over to Messalla and Cressida. There's no time to show them anything but how to point and pull the trigger, but in close quarters, that might be enough. It's better than being defenseless. Now the one without a weapon is Peeta, but anyone who whispers my name with a bunch of mutts doesn't need one anyway. We have to leave the room free of everything but our scent. There's no way to erase that at the moment. I'm guessing that's how the hissing things are tracking us, because we haven't left much of a physical trail. The mutts' noses will be abnormally keen, but time we spent slogging through the water drainpipe will help throw them.
Outside the hum of the room, the hissing becomes more distinct. But it's also possible to get a better sense of the mutts' location. They're behind us, still a fair distance. Snow probably had them released underground near the place they found Boggs's body. Theoretically, we should have a good lead on them, although, I'm certain they're going to be faster than we are. My mind wanders to the wolf like creatures in the first arena, the monkeys in the Quarter Quell, the monstrosities that I've witnessed over the years, and I wonder what form these mutts will take. Whatever Snow thinks will scare me the most.
Pollux and I have worked out a plan for the next leg of our journey, and since it heads away from the hissing, I see no reason to alter it. If we move swiftly, maybe we can reach the Snow's manor before the mutts reach us. But there's a sloppiness that comes with speed: the poorly placed boot that results in a splash, the accidental clang of a gun against a pipe, even my own commands, issued too loudly for discretion.
We've cover three more blocks via an overflow pipe and a section of neglected train tracks when the screams begin. Thick, guttural. Bouncing off the tunnel walls.
"Avoxes," says Peeta immediately. "That's what Darius sounded like when they tortured him."
"The mutts must have found them," says Cressida.
"So they're not just after Katniss," says Leeg 1.
"They'll probably kill anyone. It's just that they won't stop until they get to her," says Gale. After his hours studying with Beetee, he is most likely right.
And here I am again. With people dying because of me. Friends, allies, complete strangers, losing their lives for the Mockingjay. "Let me go alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission."
"No one's going to agree to that!" Jackson say in exasperation.
"We're wasting time!" says Finnick.
"Listen," Peeta whispers.
The screams have stopped, and in their absence my name has rebounded, in startling proximity. It's below us as well as behind us. "Katniss."
I nudge Pollux on the shoulder and we start to run. Trouble is, we had planned to descend to a lower level, but that's out now. When we come to steps leading down, Pollux and I are scanning the Holo for a possible alternative when I start gagging.
"Masks on!" Jackson orders.
There's no need for mask. Everyone is breathing the same air. I'm the only one losing my stew because I'm the only one reacting to the odor. Drifting up from the stairwell. Cutting through the sewage. Roses. I begin to tremble.
I swerve away from the smell and stumble out on to the Transfer. Smooth, pastel-colored tiles, just like the ones above, but bordered by thick white brick walls instead of homes. A roadway where delivery vehicles can drive with ease, without the congestion of the Capitol. Empty now of everything but us. I swing up my bow and blow up the first pod with an explosive arrow, which kills the nest of flesh-eating rats inside. Then I sprint for the next intersection, where I know one false step will cause the ground beneath us to disintegrate, feeding us into something labeled MEAT GRINDER. I shout for the others to stay with me. I plan to skirt around the corner and detonate Meat Grinder, but another unmarked pod lies in wait.
It happens silently. I would miss it entirely if Finnick didn't pull me to a stop. "Katniss!"
I whip back around, arrow poised for flight, but what could be done? Two of Gale's bolts lie around useless beside the golden shaft of light that radiates from ceiling to floor. Inside, Messalla is as still as a statue, poised up on the ball of one foot, head tilled back, held captive by the beam. I can't tell if he's yelling, although his mouth is stretched wide. We watch, utterly helpless, as the flesh melts off the body like candle wax.
"Can't help him!" Peeta starts shoving people forward. "Can't!" Amazingly, he's the only one still functional enough to get us moving. I don't know why he's in control, when he should be flipping out and bashing my brains in, which could happen any second. At the pressure of the hand against my shoulder, I turn away from the grisly thing that was Messalla; I make my feet go forward, fast, so fast that I can barely skid to a stop before the next intersection.
A spray of gun fire brings down a shower of plaster. I jerk my head from side to side, looking for the pod, before I turn and see the squad of Peacekeepers pounding down the Transfer toward us. With the Meat Grinder pod blocking our way, there's nothing to do but fire back. They outnumber us two to one, but we still got six of the original members of Star Squad, who aren't trying to run and shoot at the same time.
Fish in a barrel, I think, as blossoms of red stain their white uniforms. Three-quarters of them are down and dead when more begin to pour in from the side of the tunnel, the same one I flung myself down to get away from the smell, from the—
Those aren't Peacekeepers.
There white, four-limbed, about the size of a full-grown human, but that's where the comparisons stop. Naked, with long reptilian tails, arched backs, and heads that jut forward. They swarm over the Peace-keepers, living and dead, clamp down on the necks with their mouths and rip off their helmeted heads. Apparently, having a Capitol pedigree is useless here as it was in 13. It seems to take only seconds before the Peacekeepers are decapitated. The mutts fall on their bellies and skitter towards us on all fours.
"This way!" I shout, hugging the wall making a sharp right turn to avoid the pod. When everyone's joined me, I fire into the intersection, and the Meat Grinder activates. Huge mechanical teeth burst through the street and chew the tile to dust. This should make it impossible for the mutts to follow us, but I don't know. The wolf and monkey mutts I've encounter could leap unbelievably far.
The hissing burns my ears, and the reek of roses makes the walls spin.
I grab Pollux's arm. "Forget the mission. What's the quickest way above ground?"
There's no time for checking the Holo. We follow Pollux for ten yards across the Transfer and go through a doorway. I'm aware of the tile changing to concrete, of crawling through a tight, stinking pipe onto a ledge about a foot wide. We're in the main sewer. A yard below, a poisonous brew of human waste, garbage, and chemical runoff bubbles by us. Parts of the surface are on fire, others emit evil looking clouds of vapor. One look tells me that if you fall in, you're never coming out. Moving as quickly as we dare on the slippery ledge, we make our way to narrow bridge and cross it. In an alcove at the far side, Pollux smacks a ladder with his hand and points up the shaft. This is it. Our way out.
A quick glance at our party tells me that something is off. "Wait! Where's Jackson and Leeg 1?"
"They stayed at the Grinder to hold the mutts back," says Homes.
"What?" I'm lunging back to the bridge, willing to leave no one to those monsters, when he yanks me back.
"Don't waster their lives, Katniss. It's too late for them. Look!" Homes nods to the pipe, the mutts are slithering onto the ledge.
"Stand back!" Gale shouts. With his explosive tipped bolts, he rips the far side of the bridge from its foundation. The rest sinks into the bubbles, just as the mutts reach it.
For the first time, I get a good look at them. A mix of human and lizard and who knows what else. White, tight reptilian skin smeared with gore, clawed hands and feet, their faces a mess of conflicting features. Hissing, shrieking my name now, as their bodies contort in rage. Lashing out with tails and claws, taking huge chunks of one another or their own bodies with wide, lathered mouths, driven mad by their need to destroy me. My scent must be as evocative to them as theirs is to me. More so, because despite its toxicity, the mutts begin to throw themselves into the foul sewer.
Along our bank, everyone opens fire. I choose my arrows without discretion, sending arrowheads, fire, explosives into the mutts' bodies. They're mortal, but only just. No natural thing can keep coming with two hundred bullets in them. Yes, we eventually kill them, only there are so many, an endless supply pouring from the pipe, not even hesitating to take to the sewage.
"Geez, Katniss. They must really hate you if they're willing to commit suicide just to kill you." Finnick quipped.
"NOW'S NOT THE TIME, FINNICK!" I shout.
"Just saying." Finnick said, as I turn to my head to glare at him.
But it's not their numbers that make my hands shake so.
No mutts is good. All are meant to damage you. Some take your life, like the monkeys. Other's your reason, like the tracker jackers. However, the true atrocities, the most frightening, incorporate a perverse psychological twist designed to terrify the victim. The sight of the wolf mutts with the dead tribute's eyes. The sound of the jabberjays replicating Prim's tortured screams. The smell of Snow's roses mixed with the victims' blood. Carried across the sewer. Cutting even through this foulness. Making my heart run wild, my skin turn to ice, my lungs unable to suck air. It's as if Snow's breathing in my face, telling me it's time to die.
The others are shouting at me, but I can't seem to respond. Strong arms lift me I as blast the head off a mutt whose claws have grazed my ankle. I'm slammed into the ladder. Hands shoved against the rungs. Ordered to climb. My wooden puppet limbs obey. Movement slowly brings me back to my senses. I detect one person above me. Pollux. Peeta and Cressida are below. We reach a platform. Switch to a second ladder. Rungs slick with sweat and mildew. At the next platform, my head clears and the reality of what's happened hits me. I begin frantically pulling people off the ladder. Peeta. Cressida. That's it.
What have I done? What have I abandoned the others to? I'm scrambling back down the ladder when one of my boots kicks someone.
"Climb!" Gale barks at me. I'm back up, hauling him in, peering into the gloom for more. "No." Gale turns my face to him and shakes his head. Uniform shredded. Gaping wound in the side of his neck.
There's a human cry, followed by gun fire, and a weak explosion. This is rounded out by Finnick screaming. "Drop the Holo!"
Gale shines the light from Cressida's gun into the pipe and we see Finnick on the last ladder and there's a crap ton of mutts beneath him.
"Cover him!" I shout.
Gale fires the gun into the crowd of mutts, as I grab my bow and knock an explosive arrow. Gale slows down the pack just enough for Finnick to clear the ladder and for me to shoot my arrow. My arrow buys us enough time because it takes out a portion of the platform below us. I slide the Holo from my belt and choke out. "Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock." Release it. Hunch against the wall with the others as the explosion rocks the platform and bits of mutt and human flesh shoot out of the pipe and shower us.
There's a clank as Pollux slams a cover over the pipe and locks it in place. Pollux, Gale, Cressida, Finnick, Peeta, and me. We're all that's left. Later the human feelings will come. Now I'm conscious of an animal need to keep the remnants of our band alive. "We can't stop here."
Someone comes up with a bandage. Ties it around Gale's neck. Finnick helps Gale to his feet. Only one figures stay huddle against the wall. "Peeta," I say. There's no response. Has he blacked out? I crouch in front of him, pulling his cuffed hands from his face. "Peeta?" His eyes are like black pools, the pupils dilated so that the blue irises have all but vanished. He muscles in his wrists are hard as metal.
"Leave me," he whispers. "I can't hang on."
"Yes. You can!" I tell him.
Peeta shake his head. "I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them."
Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this pace, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, biter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today.
It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. As I slide my hands up his wrist to claps his, I feel it again. That same sensation I felt when I first kissed Peeta after the opening ceremony last year: the heightened sense of awareness, the accelerated heart rate, the quickening of the blood, and the dilated pupils. "Don't let him take you from me."
Peeta's panting hard as he's fights the nightmares raging in his head. "No. I don't want to…"
I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me."
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.
I help Peeta up and address Pollux. "How far to the street?" He indicates it's just above.
"Glad you could make it." I said to Finnick, as I reach to hug him.
"That makes two of us." Finnick said, returning the hug.
After I break the hug, I take stock of Finnick's wounds. Nothing major, just a few laceration on his legs, right thigh, and right lower back. I patch up what I can, and then I turn to climb the last ladder and push open the lid to someone's utility room. I'm rising to my feet when a women throws open the door. She wears a bright turquoise silk robe embroidered with exotic birds. Her magenta hair is fluffed up like a cloud and decorated with gilded butterflies. Grease from a half-eaten sausage smears her lip stick. The expression on her face says she recognizes me. She opens her mouth to call for help.
Without hesitation, I shoot her through the heart.