Chapter Twenty-two

As the Victory Tour continued, Dyson tried to avoid dwelling on what had happened in District 8, but it wasn't easy, especially since he knew only too well why it had happened. Giving the Capitol's scripted thank you in front of a district whose tributes he had killed had proved too much for him. It had been hard enough during his first four stops, but having to say those words when Pleat and Linus's grieving families were only yards away . . . Even now, he could see the accusing looks they'd given him, hating him for being alive while Pleat and Linus . . .

While Pleat and Linus were dead. Because of him. He had to admit that the bird mutt was partly responsible in Linus's case, but he was still the one who had finished the District 8 boy off and that meant he had been credited with that kill. He tried telling himself he'd done the only merciful thing possible, that the alternative had been leaving Linus to die in agony from his burns, but that did little to ease his conscience. And it certainly didn't excuse what he'd done to Pleat.

Cecelia may have forgiven him, but would he ever be able to forgive himself?

Because of the way Dyson had broken down on stage, the television broadcast of the District 8 victory ceremony had been cancelled and replaced with highlights from the Tour so far, ending with the moment he arrived in the textile district. It also meant the mayor of 8 presented him with the plaque he should have received in front of the local population in private, the moment captured by a single cameraman. As on previous occasions, Dyson had accepted the plaque without comment, and it was now stashed with the others, none of which he had looked at since receiving them.


Dyson's first stop after District 8 was District 7, which lay in the north-western corner of Panem and was said to have more trees than people. There were certainly a lot of trees; much of the district was forested, with most of the human population living in logging camps where everyone was taught the skills they needed for working among the trees from a young age. Many of these skills, such as handling axes, easily transferred to the Hunger Games, which meant the lumber district had produced more victors than any of the other non-Career districts, seven in total. Of these seven victors, five (Michael, Blight, Vernon, Birch and Otis) were still alive and were introduced to Dyson before the Victor's Dinner. Dyson shook hands with each of them in turn, trying not to think about Lara and Xylon, whose families had been present at the ceremony in the main square. Lara's parents and older brother. Xylon's mother and two younger sisters. At least he hadn't killed Lara and Xylon, but he had still survived at their expense and he didn't think he would ever get over that feeling of guilt.

From District 7, he and his entourage travelled east to District 6, another district that was basically one big city. But whereas District 8 was dominated by textile factories, 6 was dominated by assembly plants and mechanics' workshops. Everything was dedicated to the building and maintaining of vehicles; the Capitol called it "the district that keeps Panem moving", not that the people had any more freedom of movement than the rest of the population. Work parties from the transport district were sent all over Panem to maintain the nation's rail links, but they were always accompanied by squads of Peacekeepers whose job was to see that none of those in the work parties attempted to defect.

After the victory ceremony in the main square (during which he tried to avoid looking at Monica's mother and sister and Axle's now childless parents) Dyson was taken on a tour of a factory which made hovercraft for the Capitol. But fascinating though it was to see how a hovercraft was put together, he couldn't help thinking of all the kids who had been transported to their deaths in one. Kids like Monica and Axle. Had the hovercraft that brought them to the arena been made in this factory? Probably, but Dyson decided he would prefer not to know.

Next came the meeting with Tacitus, Marius, Delta and Norma, the four victors District 6 had produced. Tacitus and Norma did not appear to have suffered too much damage from their time in the arena; indeed, Norma joked that they'd better keep her away from the glassware at the Victor's Dinner, referring to how she'd turned a shard of broken glass into a deadly weapon in her Games. However, Marius and Delta were a different story. Their sagging skin, their yellowish complexion, their scrawny bodies, the way they kept tracing shapes with their fingers and laughing as they did so . . . Everything about them spoke of an advanced morphling addiction that meant they spent most of their time in a state of oblivion. Dyson had caught glimpses of them over the years while watching recaps of District 6 reapings, but this was the first time he'd seen them in the flesh and their condition shocked him. At least Consus from District 9, the other morphling addict he'd met, hadn't deteriorated as far as these too, not yet anyway.

At the Victor's Dinner, Dyson noticed that Delta and Marius hardly touched the food on their plates, even though both of them looked like they were half-starved. He didn't know much about the effects of morphling, but he knew it was a powerful painkiller that, if taken in large enough doses, numbed you not just physically, but mentally as well, not to mention acting as an appetite suppressant. And Delta and Marius had been taking the stuff for years, almost certainly since they'd become victors. They'd end up killing themselves at this rate, and so would Consus.


Later, Dyson took Tacitus aside and asked him the question that had been on his mind all through dinner. "Delta and Marius? What happened to them?" He figured Tacitus, as District 6's oldest victor, was probably the best person to ask; after all, he must know them pretty well and he would have mentored at least one of them.

Tacitus sighed and shook his head. "The same thing that happened to every victor, boy. Or, if you really want to know, Marius saw the District 9 girl in his Games get bludgeoned to death by the entire Career pack, while he did nothing to help. She was one of the youngest tributes that year, but that made no difference to the Careers; they just surrounded her and started beating her about the head with their clubs. By the time her cannon fired, her skull was completely caved in. And Marius was watching from behind a tree; luckily the Careers didn't spot him or they'd have done the same to him. Anyway, he started having nightmares about it and a few other things he saw in the arena, so he was prescribed morphling to help him sleep, only . . ." Tacitus sighed again. ". . . he's become more and more dependent on the stuff over the years. Now, he goes into withdrawal if he doesn't get a fix every few hours."

"And Delta?" Dyson asked, trying not to think about how he might have reacted had he found himself in the same situation as Marius. At least he hadn't witnessed the moment Lupus clubbed Glean to death with his mace first hand, only while watching the recap of his Games. And that had been bad enough.

"She killed her district partner. Not only that, her district partner was her brother. They attacked each other late at night, see, when neither could see who the other was. Anyway, Delta managed to put a knife through his neck and, just as his cannon fired, a shaft of moonlight landed on his face and she saw who she'd killed. Well, I'm sure you can imagine what she did next." Dyson did not reply, but Tacitus carried on talking. "Fled to the furthest corner of the arena, and that's where she stayed for the rest of the Games. The only reason she won is because she was the only tribute who didn't attend the Gamemakers' "feast" that year. Of course, that meant she had to return home knowing her brother, the only family she had, was dead because of her. She's being taking morphling ever since to try and blot it out."

Dyson bitterly regretted asking about Delta and Marius. Delta's story in particular brought back memories of how he had killed Astra and it also raised a couple of unsettling questions. What if Tia had been his district partner? And what if, as Delta had done with her brother, he'd killed her without realising who she was until it was too late?

No, he mustn't think like that. The reality of what went on in the arena was bad enough, without dwelling on things that might have happened but hadn't. He must stay focused for the rest of the Tour, which still had four more districts, plus the Capitol, to visit before he returned home.

He reminded himself of this as he and his entourage boarded the train and began the journey to District 4.


Stepping out of District 4's Justice Building, Dyson (dressed a blue-and-white striped shirt and white trousers) told himself he could get through this. He was going to stand on the stage and listen to the mayor's speech, then give the scripted reply without letting anyone know how much he hated saying those words. It was a mantra which had served him well on the Tour so far, apart from in District 8, but he tried not to think about that. If he did, he would only break down again and that was the last thing he wanted, especially in a Career district.

District 4's mayor, a tall man with bronzed skin, gave his speech, then a little girl came onto the stage to present Dyson with the customary bouquet of flowers. Dyson took the flowers and turned to face the crowd as he began to say the words he hated, the words that made him feel like a mouthpiece of the Capitol.

"My thanks to the people of District 4. It is an honour and a privilege for me to be here. I also wish to thank the families of Salacia and Fathom for offering up these tributes. While they didn't win, they fought bravely and you can be proud of them for that. Let their sacrifice serve to remind you of the power of the Capitol and be thankful."

Salacia and Fathom. The two youngest members of the Career pack in the Sixty-eighth Games and the only ones who had not volunteered. Dyson could see their families on the platform below the stage, sorrow etched on their faces. Sorrow at the loss of two kids who should have had their whole lives ahead of them, lives they would never get to live because of the Capitol and their sadistic Games. He'd seen that expression more times than he cared to count on this Tour, but this was the first time he'd seen it on the faces of the families of dead Careers. Could it be that, for all the Games were glorified in the Career districts, they were just as much of an ordeal as they were for the other nine districts?

Before Dyson had time to think too long about this, the mayor stepped forward to present him with his victor's plaque, which Dyson accepted in silence before turning to face the crowd as they responded with a mandatory round of applause.


When his appearance in the square was over, Dyson was taken for a ride on one of District 4's many fishing boats. The captain, a middle-aged man named Haddock Cresta, chatted amiably about his daughter, Annie, who was the same age as Dyson and, if her father was to be believed, "practically lived in the water." Then again, this was the fishing district and its citizens were taught the ways of the ocean from the time they were babies. Not so the people of District 5; though there was a stretch of coastline in 5, its main purpose was to generate electricity using the power of the waves, as well as being the site of a large off-shore wind farm. So Dyson was unprepared for the rocking sensation of the boat as Haddock and his crew cast off and, within minutes, was hanging over the rail, feeling like he was about to lose his last meal to the waves.

Haddock, standing at the helm, laughed at his obvious discomfort. "You just haven't found your sea-legs yet. Most District 4 kids your age have been sailing since they were toddlers. Take my Annie, for instance. She already knew her way round boats by the time she reached reaping age and she's won her school's swimming competition two years running. Useful stuff if you ever end up in the Games and there's a lot of water about."

Which, Dyson thought, was all very well for kids from District 4. Most tributes never had the opportunity to learn to swim, with the exception of those from 1 and 2, who were trained to face a variety of arenas. Including those which were dominated by water, though District 4 had the advantage even then. The arena in the Fortieth Games, for example, had been based on a coral atoll, a ring of islands with the Cornucopia located on the largest of them. And vast expanses of water separated each island, a fact which the District 4 tributes, Netta and Fingal, were quick to exploit. At their suggestion, the Careers had scuttled most of the small boats which the Gamemakers had provided for the tributes, leaving one for the pack to roam from island to island, picking off any tributes from outside the Career districts who'd managed to escape the bloodbath and get to the islands.

Not that the Careers had it all their own way; Fingal and the District 1 girl, Regalia, were killed by the tributes from District 7, whom the remaining Careers killed in retaliation. In the end, it came down to Camilla from District 2 and Netta from District 4, at which point the latter made a hole in the boat and bailed out. When Camilla realised what had happened, she tried to swim after Netta and finish her off, but Netta's upbringing in the fishing district gave the edge in a sea-based battle. After disarming Camilla, she forced her head below the surface and held her there until she drowned, leaving Netta as the victor. Nearly thirty years later, the incident was still regarded as one of the most memorable moments in the history of the Hunger Games.


That evening, Dyson met the seven living victors from District 4, starting with Mags who'd been the victor in the Eleventh Games, the first to take place outside the Capitol. The Capitol Arena, which had served as the venue for previous Games, had been bombed in the run-up to the Tenth Games, killing and injuring several of the tributes and mentors, who were touring the Arena in preparation for the Games. No-one had ever found out who was behind the bombs and, though the Games had gone ahead as planned, the Arena's already shaky structure had been compromised to the point where it was no longer secure and could never be used for the Games again. "So they dumped us all in a river estuary," Mags told Dyson. "And that meant there was water everywhere." A fact which she and her district partner, Deck, had used to their advantage; rather than go in for the food which had been provided along with the usual arsenal of weapons, they grabbed some fishing tackle and a knife each, then swam out to a small island. They'd spent the next few days on this island, living on the fish they caught, watching the nightly death recap (another new innovation that year), waiting for their opponents to wipe each other out.

"Only problem with that strategy was that the water in the estuary wasn't drinkable," Mags said. "Luckily, our sponsors kept us well supplied, which meant we wouldn't go thirsty. So we stayed where we were until there were only a few tributes left. That's when they sent the gulls after us." For only the second time in the history of the Games, mutts (in this case, a particularly aggressive variety of gull) had been used as a weapon against the tributes. Deck had been pecked to death by the birds, as had the boys from Districts 1 and 6, leaving Mags and the female tribute from District 10 in the final two. So Mags left the island and swam back to the mainland, arriving to find her opponent waiting for her. The resulting battle had ended with the District 10 girl lying face-down in the mud after Mags stabbed her in the back of the head.

"Weren't you in the Career pack?" Dyson asked, once Mags was through telling her story. He knew the tributes from District 4 usually teamed up with those from 1 and 2, though they didn't do so every year.

Mags shook her head. "We didn't have Career packs in my day; the Training Academies weren't founded until the year I won. And it took another ten years after that before you started to get tributes who'd been trained for the arena. Take Aqua, for instance." She nodded towards a woman in her mid fifties. "Second tribute I mentored to victory - and the first Career victor 4 produced. Began training for the arena when she was five, then volunteered when she was sixteen."

"And I've regretted it ever since," Aqua added, not looking at her former mentor.

Aqua's words surprised Dyson. He'd always been led to believe the Career districts saw being a tribute as a great honour, being a victor even more so, but apparently not all the Career victors felt that way. Or at least not all the victors from District 4 which, though its tributes were usually in the Career pack, did not take the Games as seriously as Districts 1 and 2. From the tone in Aqua's voice, he guessed something particularly nasty must have happened in her Games, but decided it might be better not to ask her about it.

The remaining District 4 victors introduced themselves to Dyson in the order they'd become victors. Marlene, Netta, Ophelia, Nerissa and Finnick. The latter was already something of a celebrity in the Capitol, partly for being the youngest victor in the history of the Games, but mostly for his exceptional good looks. Even at the age of barely fourteen, he'd stood out from the crowd; at his present age of seventeen going on eighteen, he was positively stunning. He looked at Dyson out of his sea green eyes, flashed a smile which showed a row of perfectly white teeth.

"It's Dyson, isn't it?" he said, shaking Dyson's hand. "It's an honour to finally meet you. I'm Finnick Odair, but you probably know that already. By the way," he added with a quick wink, "how's that girlfriend of yours? What's her name again?"

"Paula," Dyson replied, feeling his heart skip a beat as he recalled how he and Paula had kissed on the verandah shortly after he returned to District 5 as the victor of the Sixty-eighth Games. "It's still early days for us, but she's fine and she's waiting for me back in 5."

"Then you'd better be careful how you behave in the Capitol if you want to keep her safe. Your family too."

Dyson looked at Finnick, puzzled. What could his behaviour in the Capitol possibly have to do with keeping his family and Paula safe? "I don't know what you mean."

Finnick lowered his tone and leaned closer to Dyson. "Let's just say good looks are a mixed blessing when you're a victor and that Mags is the closest thing I've had to family for nearly two years."


As the train headed towards District 3, Dyson found himself replaying Finnick's comments in his head. Apparently, being good-looking was "a mixed blessing" for victors, not that being a victor wasn't that already. On the one hand it meant you would never have to face the reaping again or work in your district's industry, but it also meant you had to mentor future tributes, most of whom would die in the arena. But there was more to what Finnick had said, something to do with his behaviour in the Capitol affecting those close to him. But what? Finnick had hinted that something bad had happened to his family because he did something the Capitol, and especially President Snow, hadn't liked, but had given no further details. Had he spoken out as Piper had done and returned home to find his family murdered? Perhaps, but Dyson had a feeling there was another explanation, one that had to do with Finnick's looks.

Whatever the reason, it sounded as though anything Dyson said or did as a victor might have serious repercussions for those closest to him should he say or do the wrong thing. But then what did being good-looking have to do with it? Not that Dyson considered himself particularly handsome, certainly not in comparison to Finnick. Speaking of Finnick, why had he asked after Paula when he and Dyson had never met until the Tour passed through District 4? Had he seen her on TV when they interviewed the friends and families of those in the final eight and . . .?

No, there was no way Finnick could feel that way about Paula. And, even if he did, he and Paula were from different districts; there was no way the Capitol would allow him to pursue a relationship with her, especially when everyone knew she was Dyson's girl. Besides, what about all the "lovers" Finnick had in the Capitol?

Dyson was still pondering these questions when the train drew into the station which served District 3.