CHAPTER 2.2
'In the darkness all alone.
And no one cares.
There's no one there.'
Chaos surrounded Indiana Summers as doctors hurried in and out, examining her and almost distracting her from the numbness of her body and the disorientation of her mind. Her abdomen ached as if remembering some long ago pain. As she became more alert, Indiana began processing the events happening around her.
Cato.
Was he alive? Did he win?
Memories of her last few days she could remember washed over and she stumbled over the most recent. Lifting her top and gazing at the flat skin of her stomach, Indiana was shocked to realise that she was still living. But, she had been dead. Now she was alive? Her heart had stopped beating and her brain activity had stopped. Yet here she was.
Slowly and hesitantly, she raised her hand and placed it on the left side of her chest.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Somehow, her heart was beating once more. How was this possible? Shooting up, she ignored the dizziness and fatigue that washed over her. Two doctors advised her to rest, attempting to get her to lie back down again. Ignoring their wise words of warning, Indiana swung her legs over the side and jumped off the table.
"Miss Summers, I urge you to return to your bed."
Her calmness snapped upon hearing her name and being ordered around.
"That's not a bed. That's a table! You worked on me like I'm so kind of science experiment. Now tell me what you did to me!" Indiana shrieked, grabbing a scalpel from the metal tray nearby and pointing it threateningly at anyone who came too close.
"Miss Summers, you've been resurrected. You died during the 74th Hunger Games," a doctor informed her, taking a brave step forward.
"Why?" Indiana demanded.
"You're part of the Quarter Quell," another doctor explained, quickly taking a step back when Indiana's neck and face flushed with anger. "We brought back many other Fallen tributes. All of you will be debriefed about it all in couple of weeks – once the other tributes are awake and their vitals are stable."
"What about Cato? Where is he?"
"I'm afraid we don't know, Miss. We're only allowed to work on our own patients."
There were only four doctors in the room with Indiana, meaning they were her own personal doctors and there were numerous other medical professionals working on other deceased tributes.
"Patients? How many more are there?"
"I'm afraid we can't say, Miss. I'm sorry we don't know more."
The scalpel slipped from her numb hand and her legs gave out. Sliding down the wall, Indiana collapsed onto the floor, head pounding and mind running itself ragged.
"Could I at least have an actual bed?" Indiana asked timidly.
Not knowing what was happening to her was panning out to be worse than knowing she had been dead.
"Of course you can. I'll take you to your room," the only female doctor smiled at her, holding out her hand.
Knowing there was no other option, Indiana gratefully took the warm hand.
Laying on the plush double bed, Indiana stared up at the dark ceiling of her 'room', her mind drifting to Cato Hadley. Whilst her body was begging for sleep, discovering that she had been dead for the past eleven months wrecked havoc on Indiana's sleeping patterns. The curtains had been left open so that she could see the Capitol below and the bedside lamp was switched on but the room still felt too dark, too claustrophobic.
Indiana Summers, the girl who never slept with a night light (even when she was a toddler) had grown irrevocably afraid of the dark. It's funny what being dead does to you.
All week, the doctors had refused/been able to give her more answers to her incessant questions about the boy she had fallen her; they just kept reminding her that she would meet the rest of the Fallen tomorrow. Another reason for the avoidance of sleep. Her mind was too wired up, too anxious. Every now and again, she would remember that she had been dead, which led to small panic attacks, causing her to lock herself in her room until they had passed.
When she was younger, she used to have them frequently and her Uncle Gloss had devised techniques to help her and for her to help herself. Unfortunately, alongside being kept oblivious to what was happening with her, she wasn't allowed to contact her aunt and uncle and let them know she was alive.
The only evidence that she had truly been dead in the first place was the faint scar on her stomach where a spear had impaled her. The doctors had offered to remove it for her but she refused; she needed the reminder of reality to ensure she didn't fully lose her mind. Well, that and the horrifying nightmares that played out on her lids every time she closed her eyes.
Holding back tears for the third time that night, Indiana snuggled under her duvet and tried thinking happy thoughts about Marvel, Cato and Clove – lost but never forgotten.
Clamping down on her pale arm, the doctor escorted Indiana to the meeting room, ensuring she wasn't about to run away. Inhaling deeply, Indiana mentally prepared herself for whoever she might encounter on the other side of that door.
Due to the selection of this years Tributes being rigged, all the Fallen tributes could be an indication on who might be competing this year. However, unless the chosen Victor had had multiple kills, there would be no way of figuring it out.
Stepping inside the room, the young blonde came face-to-face with another blonde her age. Instead of just allowing Indiana to pass, the blonde grabbed her arm and prevented her from walking further into the room.
"When did you die?"
"Not that it's any of your business-." Indiana ripped her arm out of the blonde's grip, "-but the 74th."
Taking a seat, Indiana impatiently waited for the debriefing to begin but noticed that one seat was left empty.
"It appears we're missing one," the instructor informed the room as she did a quick head count.
The click of a door opening had all the previously deceased turning to get a look at the newcomer and final resurrected tribute. Muscular body and ice blue eyes had tears springing to Indiana's eyes.
"Cato!" Indiana screeched, launching herself at her not-official boyfriend.
Reacting quickly (as his body tended to do for her), he wrapped his arms around the woman he had fallen in love with and lifted her, spinning round and holding her close to his body.
"I missed you. I'm so glad you're here." Cato mumbled into her blonde locks.
"I can't believe you're here." Indiana whimpered, shocked at the fact that he had beaten and that she had been reunited with him.
"I'm here, Princess. I'm right here and I'm not leaving you ever again."
Once the blonde couple had settled down – the Capitol official giving them a few moments to reconcile – she began explaining why the tributes had been brought back to life.
"As I'm sure you're aware, all of you in this room were dead. Thanks to the advanced Capitol technology, we were able to bring you back. However, you have been brought back for a significant purpose."
Clenching Cato's hand tighter, Indiana was afraid that if she released her hold on him then he would disappear again. Reassuring her and himself that they were both real, Cato traced small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.
"This year marks the 75th Annual Hunger Games – the third Quarter Quell. This year, the Victors will be Reaped instead of regular tributes. To make these Games even more, um, interesting, a further twist has been added to remind the people of Panem why these Games are held every year. During their first Games, each Victor made a significant kill – the turning point of their Games. You are those significant kills. You are being given the chance to get revenge as you'll be thrown into the Games and given the chance to hunt down the Victors that murdered you. Use this chance wisely because if you die again, you won't be given a second chance at becoming a Victor."
As the woman finished speaking, Peacekeepers immediately surrounded her in a protective circle as they waited for her words to sink in. When they did, there was absolute mayhem.
"You revived us just to murder us again? How sick are you?!"
"The fuck! The Capitol took away my life once and now you won't even let us die again!"
"You're fucking insane if you think I'm going back in that arena!"
"I'll kill you!"
"Death to the Games!"
"We're going back in the Games." Indiana whispered, nausea washing over her.
"We're going back." Cato confirmed.
'Did you break but never mend?
Did it hurt so much you thought it was the end?
And no one cares, there's no one there.'
