Peeta

The northwest corner of District Seven is not what I expected. I've only ever been to Seven once, on tour, and even then, we only got to see the Justice Building and take a short tour of a nearby tree farm, but even that limited exposer tells me that this part of the district is very different. The trees are bigger, thicker, and taller and the mountain tops more prevalent and jagged, with snow clearly visible on their towering peaks despite the fact it is nearly July.

"Does the snow ever melt?" I ask, pulling my eyes from the scene outside the window and back to the pile of invoices spread out before me.

The small woman with light brown hair named Amber glances up at me from where she perches on the edge of the large table we are working at. "Not in my lifetime, but my great-granddad used to tell us stories about the 'before' and when there wasn't any snow on the mountains or on the ground."

"The before?" I ask.

"The time right after the big war," she says placing an invoice in the discard pile.

"The big war? You mean during the dark days?"

She shakes her head, "My great-grandad used to say that the big war is what cause the dark days. He said that the whole world was at war and some of the bigger countries used a weapon that not only killed a bunch of people but also sent the earth to warming for the next 50 years.
He told us that the warming killed a lot of the crops and animals off, caused the flooding and more war for the leftover resources, that is the time call the dark days." She tells me, picking up another sheet from the large pile we've been working from.

"I've not heard anything like that before," I tell her grabbing another sheet as well.

She smiles a bit and shakes her head, "It's a verbal history passed down in whispers for generations in my family, so I don't have any proof its real, but then again maybe it will turn up in one of those histories you were telling me about," she says.

I nod and pounder the story as I turn my attention back to the form in front of me. In the 24 hours I've been here I've spent the last 20 sitting right here with these forms, praying for another lead, but nothing has surfaced. Amber and I slip into silence once again, both of us focused on our task. The next I know the door to the office we are in creeks open and Effie emerges from the hall with a tray of food and tea.

"Time for a food break you two," she says carefully setting the tray onto of low file cabinet. Dressed in jeans, a warm-looking purple sweater, and her strawberry bob pulled into a messy bun the woman delivering our lunch looks nothing like the escort I once knew. In the Capitol she was still putting together, every hair in place, make up perfect, even if very understated she was more the Effie I knew, but this, this casual version of herself is more breathtaking than of the high fashion looks I've ever seen her in. She looks ten years younger and without the mask of make-up to hide behind her love and concern are the only things painting her features.

I rub my eyes and take an apricate whiff of the food steaming food. "What time is it?" ask, getting up to cross over to the tray.

"Nearly two," Effie says. "When you didn't appear in the café for mealtime I took upon myself to bring you two a little something," she says kindly.

I smile down into her warm face, "Thank you, Effie."

Amber joins me at the tray and we begin loading bowls up with a meaty noodle dish. "Wow, smells amazing," I breathe appreciatively.

Amber's lips are pulled into a full grin. "Chicken and Noodles, my favorite lunch dish," she exudes.

Effie has begun filling large mugs with local herbal tea brew, so I plop down into my chair I start shoveling hot food into my mouth without preamble. I'm hungrier than I thought I was. Effie sets a steaming mug on the desk next to me and gives a look of disapproval. I immediately sit up straighter and slow my eating. Amber chuckles under her breath.

Effie clears her throat and straightens her sweater. "Anything new?" she asks hopefully.

Our failure sours the food in my mouth, and I set the bowl down and reach for the mug. "No, unfortunately, nothing. How about with the footage Haymitch is watching?" I ask, but already knowing the answer. Had there been a development I would have been summonsed.

Effie's mouth turns downward, and she shakes her head. "Not yet," she says, her voice more chipper than her demeanor portrays.

Taking a careful sip of the hot liquid, I ponder the fruitfulness of coming up here, but immediately I remember watching every minute on the clock tick by back in the Capitol I reach over for another invoice.

The room falls into silent work once again and we work. Effie removed the tray and bring another pot of tea and we work. When the light outside begins to fade into the night, I finally decided to get up for a stretch. I'm poring the remainder of the long cold tea into my mug when Amber startles to her feet. I'm immediately at her elbow looking over her shoulder.

With a shaky index finger, she points to a line midway down the page, "Are those longitude and latitude coordinates?" she asks, not trusting her own eyes.

Tears blur my vision. "Yes, yes they are," I cheer. Grabbing her hand, we both run full tilt down the hall towards where Haymitch is working.

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Katniss

With the sun setting on my second day in the wood, the cold starts to creep up my spine. The days here are warm, hot even, but the nights are getting increasingly cooler and cooler as I've made my way into higher terrain. Pausing for a moment I untie my sack and fish out the sweater at the top of the back and my bottle of water. After slipping the soft wool over my head I unscrew my jar and quickly finish off the remainder of the cool liquid. I'm no longer worried about water, I located a decent size stream early this morning, so I have a water source, but I want to wait for the cover of darkness before making my way back to for a refill. The first part of my first day beyond the fence I spotted three different cameras hidden in trees and bushes. I disabled them all and changed direction, even backtracked a bit to throw him off my trail.

For most of today, I've been traveling northwest and I haven't spotted any cameras since midmorning. I'm hoping that I've simply gone further out than my wackadoo captor thought I'd get. With the two or three hours of sleep, I got last night and the short breaks for food and water factored in, I think I've gotten 60 to 70 miles from the compound; I have, after all, spent all of my waking hours jogging or running since I hit the ground outside the fence yesterday morning. The abuse jolts up my legs with each foot as I plant it on the ground, but I push past the pain and the burn and keep running. I can't be captured again. I won't go back.

Up ahead, about a mile, the terrain changes again. The ground there is rocky and inclines to the west. I decide to make that the point where I'll turn to head for the river for my refill. When my feet finally meet the first of the rocks at the bottom of the hill it's as if all the momentum I just had, stalls completely. My feet come to halt, and I bend over to place my hands on my knees and work on catching my breath.

Still panting, I plant my backend on a rock and pull at the knot of my makeshift backpack. I slide down my sweaty back and falls to the ground with a thunk, a hollow thunk. Spinning around on my rock, I pick up the bag to see what I've hit but find nothing so I drop it again. The thunk is louder this time. Tossing the pack aside, I run a hand over the ground. The dirt and pebbles don't move, they appear to be glued down or something. I rap my knuckles on the dirt and I'm rewarded with a hollow tap.

Interested piqued, I stagger to my aching feet and begin walking the area, gentle stomping as I go. After a few moments, I determine the hollow area below me is about 5 feet by 5 feet. Getting on my knees, I tap the area again until I find out where exactly the ground goes from hollow to solid. I slid my fingertips across the gravel where I think the edge is and feel a slight depression, so I wiggle my fingers down into the dirt and along a cool surface until it ends. Something is definitely covering a cave or low spot in the ground. Sitting back on my heels I consider the area around me. If I can move the rock or whatever, I might have a safe and sheltered place to sleep for the night.

My hands get back to work, sliding my fingers along the edge looking for purchase. When the heel of my right-hand falls into a divot, I quickly remove the loose dirt and leaves to find a hand pull, This is manmade, I realize. I consider my options. If this belongs to my captor then opening it could be a trap, but then again, it's hidden I just happened upon it accidentally, so is that even a real possibility? If it were a house or cabin that would be different. Add the fact the whole area is covered in overgrowth and I haven't seen any evidence of human activity out here, even the cameras I found seemed to have not been touched in quite a long time. I let out a breath I'd been holding and look up at the trees around me. I have three options. Climbing a tree to sleep, an idea I turned down last night. Carson seems to know my games better than I do so I'm worried that is the first place he would look for me. I can camp out in the open again, maybe make a low blind for cover or I can change it and see what's behind door number three.

"Okay door three, don't let me down," I mutter as I stand and grab the handle. I pull and the door only moves up about an inch. This door definitely hasn't been opened in a long time, that's a good sign probably. Getting my fingers under the lip of the door, I heave it open with all my might. The door squeaks and squeals in protest but I manage to get it open wide enough to look in. Below my feet is a perfectly round cement tube about four-foot round with a ladder carved into one side that descends down into the dark. Not what I expected. Grabbing a rock from nearby I drop it down into the dark and quickly hear it land on the ground. The ground must be just a few feet past where I can see which makes more a little more comfortable with the idea of going down into the ground. I give the door another hard push, allowing in as much light as I can before I decided to give the tunnel a chance. Grabbing my bundle and I attach to myself, no way I'm going to let my only resources out of my site.

Sliding onto my stomach, I dangle over the edge for a moment until my feet find a built-in rung. I gingerly put my weight on it and hop up and down on it a bit to test the sturdiness and find it steadfast. Grabbing the rung closest to my face, I start making my way down into the dark. The cement is damp and moss that has grown in indentations of the handholds works its way under my nails, but the ladder is solid.

When my feet find dirt, I take a moment to look back up at the top of the tube. The sunlight filters down as dust motes float in the air, but the light is not at the right angle to light the area right in front of me so I dig in my bag for the candle and matches I took from the kitchen. After a few moments of fumbling and the candle is happily dancing in front of me revealing yet another door. It's solid, the metal may be, and the front is equipped with a touchpad and a large round wheel, all of which appear to be very old but in good shape. "What the hell?" I ask out loud. I reach out and push one of the buttons on the keypad but it sinks into its housing and doesn't bounce back up. I think it has been a long, long time since this has been functional. I shrug and grab the wheel with my free hand and give it a pull, I'm completely shocked when it moves a tiny bit. Propping up the candle in the dirt and against the far side of the tunnel, attempt to turn the wheel again. Unlike the door above the wheel turns freely and it opens with a hiss. It's a black hole beyond the threshold but the air seems fresh, not stagnate or dangerous but my heart races all the same. Dark and underground are two things that do not sit well with me. Taking a shaky breath, I grab the candle and angle the light into space, and find what appears to be a hallway with faded and peeling gray paint. Cautiously I walk through the entryway and take tentative steps down the hall until it opens up into a larger room. What I find I would have never expected, never dreamed of. Finally, something is looking up.