Chapter 9: Savera Inchcape

Dell Fonio always did his best to get a good night's sleep both the night before and the night after the Reaping. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes, it didn't.

Yet, the Victor of the 3rd Hunger Games woke up the morning after the Reaping for the 9th Hunger Games feeling well rested. He readied himself quietly, getting showered in the outhouse shower round the back of the house he still shared with his parents. Seated on the special bench his father had carved for him to make it easier for him to bathe without the use of his crutches, Dell let the water cascade over him. He was careful not to tarry too long, allowing himself only a moment or two of stillness between scrubs of the washcloth. Warm water was a rare thing here in District 9, and it was on the district citizenry to regulate their own hot water. Eventually, the household water heater would fail, and it could be a matter of days before the shower stopped blasting cold droplets. Dressing himself, Dell got his trusty crutches under him and hobbled the few feet back into the main house, where his parents greeted him as they were just sitting around the kitchen table.

The Fonios took a leisurely stroll down to the Square before the Justice Building, seeing as they were fairly early. The parents of the Hunger Games 3rd Victor and the district's first let their only son set the pace, limping along on his crutches. Dell had lost one of his crutches during his Games; he'd had to make do with the remainder (the same crutch he used to clobber the girl from Two) until he got home, when a kindly Peacekeeper had fashioned one out of a piece of driftwood he'd found, the stick of natural lumber beautifully eroded by the lapping waters of the Great River that ran through here. The crudely fashioned crutch was slightly shorter than its partner made of metal. The Capitol had never thought after he came out of the arena to set him up with a replacement. Dell didn't mind, either way.

Neighbors waved to Dell and his parents as they passed down the street. The people of Nine weren't so nearly as averse to the sight of their Victors in the way that the people of Two were initially leery of theirs, particularly Maximus Meridius. Here, Dell was something of a success story, living proof that the odds could be ever in the favor of everyone, no matter the circumstances. The last of the dissenters had finally been ratted out some time ago, and the new social order was beginning to convey a semblance of normalcy. Well, as normal as sending two children to their death annually could be.

As the Fonios entered the Square to attend Mandatory Viewing, people cleared a path for their champion. As a Victor, Dell had relatively few benefits: aside from an all-expenses paid trip to the Capitol by express train once the Games concluded, to meet the newest member of "the family" (Maximus's words), the only other perceivable benefit was free, prime seating to watch the Games themselves: a set of folding chairs right up front of the crowd. There was no pension, no government subsidized housing – Dell didn't know it on this particular morning, but those things wouldn't come just yet, but they were coming soon. He provided for himself by sharecropping like his parents before him, and was fortunate at the generosity of his mother and father to still live under their roof. Although, Mom had been asking more and more lately, dropping hints, about when Dell would settle down and marry a 'nice, district girl.' Dell was trying to laugh it off. At 22, he was a handsome, if not quite strapping, youth, but Victor or no, who of any girl here would willingly walk through the fields of barley (that was the District 9 marriage custom) with a cripple?

And besides, Dell had a girl in mind who he would like to marry…. She just wasn't in District 9.

A Peacekeeper officer stood aside, letting Dell and his parents settle into the three folding chairs. No one else in the district would have such a luxury – for the rest, it would be "a sesterce to stand, a sesterce to stand!" Payment to stand in the hot, summer sun and burn your feet off on the cobblestones for what was now starting to become two, maybe three days at the most as you watched twenty-four kids fight to the death on live TV.

A courier bustled up to Dell, looking a little starstruck even now, a full six years on from his own Games. The postman was carrying a manila envelope in his hands. "Package for you, Mr. Fonio, sir!"

Dell accepted it with a smile of thanks, and broke the seal, just as the Seal of Panem was beginning to come on the screen. There wouldn't be much to see during this mandatory session, just footage of the tributes getting picked up and loaded into the cattle cars. Next to him, his father rolled his eyes.

"Put that away, why don't you, son? Wait 'till after the broadcast!"

Dell ignored him, tugging the little sheaf of paper and accompanying missive out of its little cradle. One look at it, and he smiled fondly, recognizing the handiwork. "Awww, it's from Guernsey! A picture of a horse!" He reached around Mr. Fonio to show his mother, who also grinned sentimentally. "And there's a note: Hi, Dell sweets, I can't wait to ride on the train with you all the way to the Capitol with Acacia sweets and Vulcan sweets and Maximus sweets and Shrimpy sweets…"

"Ok, Ok, we get it," Mr. Fonio huffed, shaking his head. "Why the hell does that boy think everyone around him is sweet? Panem ain't no such place!"

"Dunno," Dell shrugged, smiling softly as he tucked his best friend's care package back into the manila envelope and stooped to store it under his chair. "But it makes a nice change. At least someone is able to recognize some good in the world…"

He was still bent half-over when the sound of gunfire erupted above him, and he heard his mother let out a gasp. "Oh, Ravinstill, help us! Look at that!"

Dell snapped his head up, but the camera showing the tribute cattle cars was wobbling dangerously and static briefly appeared, ruining the image. He frowned. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Behind them, an older man leapt to his feet, running through the Square like a skittish deer and shrieking in dismay, "They have shot the tributes dead! They have shot the tributes dead!"

"Shoot them?" Dell's face paled. "Who?"

Suddenly, a Peacekeeper appeared by the Fonios' rather short row. "Mandatory Viewing has been canceled for the evening until we can discover the cause for the disturbance. I apologize, Master Fonio – it's time for you to leave."

Dell just nodded, taking his mother's hand to lead the shaken woman out of the Square. Only once did he look back, as the static briefly disappeared to reveal a tribute cattle car derailed and overturned, the side of the car riddled with bullet holes.

As soon as he got home, Dell took the house phone off its hook and extended the cord all the way into his room partway down the hall before closing the door. He and his parents might be poor sharecroppers, but they were better off than most… and one of the few sharecropper families who could afford a landline phone connection. Dell dialed the number from memory, including its extension and waited for the dial tone to fade.

"Hello, District 7 Justice Building."

"Yes, hi, operator, I'd like to patch a call through to Logging Camp Number 16, please. For one Acacia Ivy." Dell knew his immediate predecessor as Victor had been working as a secretary for one of the logging camp foremen over the past several years.

"May I please ask who is calling?"

"Dell Fonio, District 9. I'm a Victor, same as her."

A slight pause on the other end, and then:

"Of course, Mr. Fonio, I'd be happy to patch you through. If you'll just wait a moment."

"Thank you." The dial tone now didn't seem to end, until finally, her sweet voice came through on the line.

"Hello? Dell, is that you?"

"Yeah," Dell smiled softly as he thought of the girl he loved, though he could never be sure that she noticed. "It's me."

"I just got back to my desk here in the foreman's trailer. Are you all right?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"I was in our Square when the shots rang out, during Mandatory Viewing." Dell could almost see Acacia biting her lip, the way she always did when she got nervous. "At first, I couldn't tell that it was coming from the screen. I thought we were being attacked."

"I know. Everyone in our Square was dismissed for the night and the broadcast has been canceled," Dell shook his head. "I just hope Guernsey was able to transition all right out in 10. He doesn't like loud noises." Remembering, he held up the manila envelope, which he had thankfully thought to gather out from under his chair when they had been sent from the Square. "Speaking of, I got another picture from him today. He's looking forward to the train ride after the Games."

"That's nice, but Dell, don't you understand? There might not be a train ride this year. I'm watching right now on the news. They're saying that Reavers did it!"

"Reavers? You mean those wild nomads they say are roaming around up north? The Capitol's saying that a bunch of wild injuns on horseback shot up those cattle car trains?"

"Yeah, and now there are reports that at least one of the girls has been seriously hurt – the girl from 8." Dell could hear Acacia's voice hitch tearfully. "Dell, they think she's been blinded in both eyes from shrapnel. How is a tribute supposed to compete if she can't even see? Hell, how do we know that the Games will go on?"

Dell sighed, dropping his head in his one hand. "I don't know. I feel for that poor gal. Maybe… maybe it will be quick. Better for a fast death at the Bloodbath than to wander around for a few days in total darkness. And hey, you never know. Perhaps she will get lucky. Look at me. Look at Guernsey. We had tons of stuff riding against us and we still pulled through." Though in his heart, he wasn't sure he believed it. Being a cripple was a world of difference away from being blind. He decided to change the subject.

"So: how does it feel knowing you're no longer the only girl in a boy's club?"

"All right, I guess. I've tried talking to Hippolyta over the phone. She's nice enough. She just… doesn't say much." The first Victor from 7 sighed. "Dell, do you really think the Games will continue on schedule?"

"The Capitol has a will, so they'll find a way." He cringed. The thought of watching maimed or otherwise disabled tributes on a massive scale – dozens of Guernseys, dozens like… him - making a dive for the weapons made him want to vomit in heartbreak and horror.

"Do you think this newly blind girl from 8 can make it through?"

Dell thought it best not to lie to Acacia when he replied, "No. Not a chance."

Dell would be forced to eat his own words just three and a half days later, which by then found him in the hospital wing of Victors' Mercy in the Capitol, looking down at the whitened eyes of the Games' 9th Victor, the first from District 8, Savera Inchcape. If he had been afraid that Acacia might call his bluff, hold his doubt over his head, she didn't out him, meeting his eyes across the bed with a sympathetic smile as she squeezed Savera's hand. Dell felt awful to have counted Savera out. He felt like a hypocrite. Feeling Guernsey snuggle contentedly into his side, Dell slung an arm around his best friend and allowed his attention to be turned back to the children's program playing on the overhead TV, which Maximus had been thoughtful enough to turn on for the Victor from 10's benefit.