Last week we had a grand adventure with Corky, this week it's back to reality.

A huge thanks to my bestie and beta Norbertsmom who encourages me and pushes me to write even when I feel down about my writing, I heart you so much...also thanks to everyone who has liked and followed this story hope you enjoy and of course I do not own the Hunger Games

Jackson shook with anger.

He breathed steadily in and out to keep himself calm. He closed his eyes to try to get some sleep, but every time he did he replayed the scene in his head.

Jackson had found Delly after the reaping. He knew her birthday was tomorrow and he wanted a kiss, wanted her to give into him. It was only a matter of time before he would bamboozle her into going with him to the Justice building and signing the paperwork. Once she was married to him his family would own the shoe shop. Jackson knew the shop could be a great source of income, especially from the Peacekeepers.

"You have to do as I say," he demanded. "If you don't, I will inform Thread Hazelle Hawthorne is conducting business."

Delly looked down at the floor away from him; her lips were thin. He leaned over her near one of the camera tower poles.

"Leave her alone," Hawthorne's voice growled over his shoulder.

Jackson was filled with blinding fury. He narrowed his eyes at her and ground out, "I told you to stay away from him."

Delly was pale and her lips trembled as she muttered, "Sorry, Jackson."

"Dells, you okay?" Hawthorne asked, his voice filled with tenderness. That pissed Jackson off even more.

Jackson turned around to face Hawthorne. He wanted to taunt Gale. The Peacekeepers would believe him over a guy from the Seam. However, his words failed on his lips as he was surrounded by guys from Hawthorne's crew. None of his family was around to help him. There wasn't even a Peacekeeper in sight.

He watched Delly open her eyes, as tears fell. She nodded, and gave Hawthorne a grateful look.

"Delly, your dad is looking for you," Hawthorne said through thin lips. He looked like he wanted to fight.

Jackson glanced around at Rain, Thom, and Hawthorne's brothers. They easily towered over him. One solid punch and he'd have been knocked down in the snow. The odds were not in his favor. He backed away slightly from Delly allowing her to step around him.

He felt the sting of his ire on his face as he watched Delly and Hawthorne hold hands in public. Hawthorne reached out and brushed the tears from her face, much the way a lover would touch his woman. There was no doubt in Jackson's mind Delly allowed Hawthorne to touch her.

Jackson fumed when Hawthorne bid him a good day and walked away with his prize. He watched them retreat, saw the way Rory Hawthorne put his arm around Delly, as if he were related to her. He heard when Delly exclaimed Jackson would be angry. Jackson also saw when Hawthorne shrugged and proclaimed Delly belonged to him.

That last part was what drove Jackson mad. It didn't allow him to enjoy his dinner or the celebratory atmosphere at home. He didn't care that the Games were canceled and that meant a stay of execution for another year. All Jackson cared about was how his carefully laid plan was ruined.

Gale Hawthorne would pay for his insolence. Jackson burned with uncontrolled loathing. Delly left with Hawthorne. She'd made her choice and she was going to pay. The image of Hawthorne with his arm around Delly's shoulder served as a reminder as to why people from the Seam could not be trusted.

He loathed the Seam, what they represented. He hated them, the guys in the Seam took their girls away from them, Merchants. There were girls that shot him down when he asked for a date, but he noticed the way they looked at Thom and Rain and the others in Hawthorne's gang. Jackson loathed the smug way they moved through the school as if they were the best thing in the district.

Jackson turned in his bed and punched the pillow several times. He couldn't understand why Delly would want Hawthorne. Why she looked at him as if he hung the moon? Fat, ugly Delly chose a guy with little prospects over him, who would one day run one of the most profitable Merchant establishments in the district.

As he lay on his bed, his fingers itched to go to the lair and type out his message against Hawthorne. Jackson could not do it tonight as there were too many Peacekeepers in the district. Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would send the message and get Hawthorne to pay for his crimes.

He turned in his bed several times. He punched his pillow but his rage wouldn't allow him to sleep.

"Stuff it," Jackson said getting up. He mused, why wait for tomorrow what you can do today, as he quickly dressed in his warmest clothing.

As quietly as he could he moved throughout the Merchant Quarter. Jackson was surprised there wasn't a thick concentration of Peacekeepers tonight. The district was empty and quiet. The lights of many of the homes were dark and others turned dim as the homeowners bedded down for a cold night. It was so frigid outside his frozen breath came out in puffs. Jackson wrapped his scarf tightly around his face. Even though his scarf his face felt the frosty chill. Jackson tried to stick to the path that was paved as he briskly walked toward the lair.

He heard the familiar rumblings of the Peacekeepers all-terrain SJ-7's as it drove toward him. Jackson quickly hid behind the snow piles. The SJ-7 came to a stop. Jackson could hear the roar of the engine. He closed his eyes breathing shallowly. For a split second, he regretted coming out as the spotlight of the vehicle illuminated where he was hiding. Holding his breath he waited quietly as the light swept his area slowly.

The longer he hid the colder it became. Finally, the SJ-7 moved on and Jackson breathed easier. He waited moments before he ran from his hiding spot. As he ran, Jackson placed the blame squarely on Gale Hawthorne. If Hawthorne hadn't overstepped his boundaries Jackson would not have had to come out tonight. He could have been in his warm bed worrying about the ban on business. No doubt the ban was due to men like Hawthorne who rebelliously did not conform to societal norms.

He could not wait to send another message.

Hawthorne had to be punished for taking Delly away from him. His anger was the only thing that kept him going.

It was so cold outside his fingers began to feel numb despite wearing gloves and having his hands inside his pockets. The secret entrance was abandoned and within view. He was so cold he carelessly ran, unearthing the hidden lever. The door opened and he rushed in, glad to be inside of the cavernous space. It was heated and he spent a few minutes warming himself. He rubbed his hands together blowing hot air into them periodically until he was warm enough to walk to the desk.

Jackson took off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pockets. He took off his coat then slid it on the back of the chair.

Sitting down, he thought about his message. What could he write to get the Capitol to be interested in an idiot from the Seam? He tapped the pencil against the table until it came to him. He carefully wrote his message before telegraphing it to the Capitol. Giddy with his accomplishment he zipped his coat back up and put his gloves back on. Jauntily he ran back to his home. This time there weren't any Peacekeepers so he was able to get home quicker. Once in his bed, Jackson took a deep breath. He'd done it, he sent a message that indicated Gale as a rebellion leader in District Twelve. Outside light snow fell and blanketed the ground.

The Citizen stood in the shadows watching the Sharpie house.

Someone in this house had penetrated the lair and a trap had to be set. The last time the Citizen had been at the lair, they'd set up a silent alarm. If the secret door was opened by anyone except for the Citizen the alarm would go off. A waiting game began. When the alarm went off tonight, the Citizen moved quickly. While approaching the lair a shadowy creature ran from the secret entrance.

In the shadows of the night, in the frosty bitter cold, the Citizen followed silently. An ugly stray cat with muddy eyes jumped from the shadows onto the Citizen's back. It was chasing a squirrel. As a result, the trail was nearly lost. Fortunately, the Citizen, using the training provided by the Capitol was able to spot the new footprints in the fresh snow. Slowly the Citizen followed the tracks to this house.

The loss of security infuriated the Citizen as it was paramount for their true identity to be kept secret. Balling their fists, the Citizen walked away. The Sharpies were the Citizen's newest enemies.

From a tree Corky watched the shadowy figure, thinking humans were odd. He jumped from his perch. He carried with him a sack that belonged to his pet's mother. She'd been in a foul mood and threw the sack at her mate. Claiming there weren't enough gold coins.

The shiny discs were of no use to Corky, however, the sack was. He'd seen the larger sack his pet's mate carried. She put many things inside of her sack freeing her paws. Corky took the smaller sack and was able to put many things inside while he traveled. Tonight, he'd gone to the grocers to gather anything fresh he could find. He found what he was looking for and now was on his way back to his warm home.

The bakery was, as Corky discovered, the warmest of all of the houses in the entire district. With a series of running leaps, he made it to the bakery only to stop short on the tree that overlooked the back door of the bakery. The baker stood outside glancing up at the stars. Corky paused to observe the older man.

Eugene Mellark stood outside of his bakery. Snow fell around him; it wasn't a heavy but a fine mist. His breaths came in big puffs of air. He stuck his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. It was the middle of the night and Eugene couldn't sleep. Normally when this occurred, he'd count inventory. However, as they would not be conducting transactional business, he would leave the inventory for another day. A day where they had nothing to do but stay inside of the bakery for no other reason than because of the cold.

This winter had been extraordinary. It did not end, nor did it look like there was a possibility of ending any time soon. The idea that the entire nation of Panem was frozen shook him to the core. He was struck by the cancelation of the 74th Games. The weather was so severe that it stopped the Capitol's bloodlust for the pageantry of the killing of innocents.

Hearing the President's speech about the harsh temperatures gave everyone a dosage of reality. It also opened up the door for defiant thoughts. A man like Thread depended on fear to be able to hold onto his power, and by extension so did the Capitol, and the President as well. When people began to lose their fear, respect for the power of a gun did nothing to stop the desire for freedom or the necessity of survival. The news caused a heavy foreboding to enter into his heart.

The only time he'd felt like this was when he heard the stories from Mrs. Brooks, Boudica's grandmother. Mrs. Brooks told stories of a time of freedom, of lawlessness, and of a time of war and death. The stories of the days of death always gave him the feeling of unease, because in Eugene's mind it would return. The way the few unjustly controlled the masses would one-day cause unrest. To be hungry was one thing, but cold to the point of madness could very well cause a rebellion against the Capitol. People were tired of being oppressed by the government, by the greed found in the Capitol, and now by nature. He could see the burgeoning of a recalcitrant nature in the looks of the youth that had gathered in front of the Justice Building. It was the air of open defiance that scared Eugene. Mrs. Brooks spoke of such looks in the eyes of the people right before the great war. She said they fought for wages and human rights, this war would be for liberty.

Eugene was a man of peace and he'd seen that in his son Peeta.

Thinking of his son he thought of the future and the way things were playing out. It was as if Katniss' father knew their kids would end up together.

He took a deep breath and walked to the back door. He stood at the entrance warming himself up for a bit, thinking about how in the morning his home was going to be filled with the Everdeen women. During the announcement, he tried to formulate a way to get Katniss and her family to stay at the bakery. None of the scenarios that he came up with ended well.

Boudicca would foil his attempts every time. Much like the way she made fun of his suspicion that there was a rat in the bakery. He was a patient man and he knew his patience would pay off. One day he was going to have the last word.

Smiling at that bit of fantasy, Eugene sighed. The order by the Capitol to not do business was going to hit a lot of people hard and none more than Katniss who traded her eggs for food and other necessities. The Everdeen women were industrious, but this new sentence could mean their end. Eugene couldn't believe his luck when the boys brought them to the bakery.

Having Lavender, Katniss, and Primrose here ensured their safety and survival. His wife couldn't say no because the boys wouldn't allow her to and neither would he. Eugene felt proud of himself. He was as much of a survivor as Katniss or her hunting partner Gale.

As he stood there thinking of survival, he saw a small shadow crossing the roof of the bakery. Eugene's senses suddenly sharpened. He could for a nano-second believe himself to be Katniss or her hunter friend Gale. Stealthily he walked in the shadows following his mortal enemy. He knew it had to be the rat that was stealing his nuts.

Peering into the darkness Eugene saw it was a squirrel. It stopped looked at him then nodded its head before making its way toward one of the bedroom windows. It even had a small bag with him. A bag that Eugene recognized as his wife's coin bag that had gone missing two weeks ago.

Eugene yelled, "HE'S THE THIEF!"

Eugene scrambled from his spot to the tree trying to see where the squirrel had gone. He tripped and fell on his back into a fluffy mound of snow. He sat there stewing now that he knew who his thief was, and he would now become the hunter. Going into the house, he shut the door and rushed to the office. Diligently Eugene searched for his chosen weapon. Finding it, he grinned. Tomorrow he would be as valiant an ancient warrior, as stealthy as Katniss Everdeen.

Eugene slept well and as the sun crested he rose from his bed.

"Where are you going?" Boudicca sleepily mumbled from her side of the bed.

"I'm going to catch that furry thief."

"Ugh...this again?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Do not mock me Boudicca. I saw a squirrel last night with your coin pouch trying to get into our home."

"A squirrel with my coin pouch? What would a squirrel do with coins?"

"Not coins, your coin pouch. With a pouch, a squirrel can steal stuff and haul it to its den. A den that it made here!"

"I'm going to go back to sleep. I'll see you in forty minutes," Boudicca muttered.

"I am a mighty hunter, and I am going to catch my prey, that stinking thief!" Eugene exclaimed.

Boudica rolled her eyes before snuggling back into the bed.

Eugene left after dressing warmly.

"The hunter was on the prowl," Eugene said pushing his hat away from his face. He hunched down on the hard ground. His blue eyes searched in the distance for his intended victims. He gripped his weapon tightly in anticipation. He spread himself on the cold freshly fallen snow looking for footprints.

The powdery snow did not yield any secrets.

For months he knew something was off. He'd been missing things like his prized dry berries, trace amounts of whole grain oats, not to mention his nuts were missing too. "Everyone made fun of me, called me a fool, mocked me. Today is the day of my greatest triumph."

He waited quietly. His breath came out in big warm puffs. It was getting colder outside and the odds that he could be injured were great. He told himself that he had overcome the frosty weather. Winter is harsh, it is cold and this year it has been brutal. With the restrictions in place, it was his duty to make sure the supplies lasted.

Though not that it mattered as everything was frozen, crystallized, suspended. Icicles hang from the edges of nature. No one liked winter, well maybe those animals that hibernate. But some animals don't and they are, in his opinion, destructive vile creatures. Those are the ones he is looking to destroy. He's a brave hunter, fierce leader.

"Mr. Mellark?"

Startled, Eugene glanced at the tall boy, who looked puzzled. "Gale," he greeted, picking himself off the ground. He hid his weapon behind his back. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to see Delly. My mom asked me to bring this over."

"The boys are in the house. I think they mentioned going to Katniss' house help with the move."

"May I ask, why you were lying in the snow?"

"I've become a hunter!" Eugene smiled broadly, proud of his statement. He considered himself just as stealthy and astute as Gale and Katniss.

Gale opened his mouth, but he said nothing.

"The damned idiot is trying to kill squirrels that keep getting inside." Mrs. Mellark screamed from the safety of the back porch.

Eugene stood up and yelled back, unable to hold his annoyance. "Why do you always have to make me sound like a fool?" He muttered to himself, "Those squirrels can destroy the support beams in their quest to make a den inside of our home and business." He looked at Gale who just glanced at the porch.

"Eugene, you're using a slingshot, a child's toy!" Mrs. Mellark laughed and mocked her husband. "You should leave the huntin' to Gale or Katniss. Especially Katniss she's got a deadly aim."

Boudicca disappeared inside of the store.

"Son, listen to me very carefully," Mr. Mellark addressed Gale. "Women are great, but they're trouble. You make sure Delly knows you mean business when you say no. Do you hear me?"

Gale nodded and slowly backed away.

"Dad?" Peeta asked.

"What's going on, dad?" Rye gave Eugene that mischievous grin of his.

"He's trying to catch those squirrels," Boudicca's voice carried out through the back porch.

"Boudicca," Eugene shouted back. "He might be upstairs in our bedroom!"

"Eugene, squirrels do not live in people's bedrooms. I think the cold is getting to you!"

"Go upstairs and see for yourself," Eugene shouted. Eugene closed his eyes, the humiliation was complete.

"Maybe I would, but we have a wedding and an engagement, and our ELDEST SON can not make it because his wife is sick!" Bouddica yelled back through the back screen.

He looked at Peeta and Rye before stating, "Did your mother send you out to torment me?"

"No," Rye said. "We got up early to board up the shop windows like you asked us to."

"Oh," he had forgotten he asked the boys to close the shutters and hammer windows from the inside to keep as much heat inside of their home.

"Yeah, we're on our way to pick up the Everdeen's," Peeta said. He glanced at Rye momentarily, his mouth quirked upwards as if trying to hide his mirth.

"You guys ready?" Gale asked grinning.

"Yeah." Rye pointed to the slingshot then deadpanned, "Just be careful with that thing; it's dangerous. You can poke an eye out with that." Rye winked. Then he left with Peeta and Gale.

Eugene looked up at his home and was stunned momentarily. His foe was staring down at him from his bedroom window. Its little nose twitching, its bushy tail swishing back and forth. Eugene growled into the icy air, "Freaking, stupid Squirrels!"