Song Suggestion: Elliot Moss- "99"
Thank You: Figsy, Sherri, Cat Beats, Mistress-Cinder, Kim, Alexxis T. Swan, Sariko-chan723, 3vlee, Galagal, downwego, and Rachel (For two reviews!)
Battle Ready
The soldier dragged her backwards. She kicked and screamed and eventually stopped, understanding it just wasted her energy. Her whole body wanted to crumple in on itself in grief.
She wished she still had the timestopper. Prim wasn't sure where it went, just that when she woke up in District 13, it had been removed from her person.
The soldier pulled her until they reached a large tree at the base of the mountain fortress. Sharp rocks dug into her shins, but she managed to ignore it with her fear. He flung her around and on the ground. She caught herself with her elbows, pushing herself up just enough to glare at him.
The soldier, face hidden behind a black helmet, reached towards the gun at his waist. He tugged it out and pointed it at her head. Its barrel gleamed in the limited sun. This was a Capitol gun, sleek and new, unlike the relics District 2 possessed. There would be no escaping its gaze or running from its bullets. It would burst inside her flesh, melting her organs with it. She'd seen the damage before.
Prim gulped. Maybe she could talk him out of it.
"Do you—"
Boom. The blast made her jump. The bullet went past her head and embedded itself into the rock behind her. Shards flew past her head, and she bunched her head forward with both hands locked at her neck, attempting to protect herself.
Prim scream caught in her throat. She uncurled and placed a hand on her chest to make sure she was still alive. Once she was assured of no injuries, she glanced back at the soldier. He lifted his gun and placed it back in its holster.
There was no way he could miss at such close range. That meant he missed on purpose.
"Who are you?"
In response, the soldier tugged off his helmet, clattering against the dirt, revealing red hair, freckles, and green eyes. Fat still clung to his cheeks, though the rest of him was chiseled.
"Lorcan?" Prim leaned backwards in surprise and then scrambled up, ignoring the way her wedding dress wanted to trip up her legs, and leapt into his waiting arms. Lorcan Gabatha, her old training partner, squeezed her back tight.
"Sorry about the bullet, Everdeen," he whispered in her ear. "But I had to make it sound real if there were any stragglers."
"But—why were you working for Cassius in the first place?"
"Cato and I had a…disagreement." He shrugged. "Cassius approached me later, thinking my anger would propel me into betrayal. However, he misread my loyalty."
"What do you mean?"
"I was never loyal to Cato." He tilted her face up with a grin. "I'm only loyal to my friends. And it just so happens that I only have one. I'm not sure you've met her yet. She's a tiny thing, too kind for her own good. She's stupid enough to befriend monsters." He extradited himself from her arms, never one for long contact. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." His forehead crinkled into a frown.
Prim gave a heaving sob, her body just now realizing she was out of danger.
"They have him, Lorcan." She swiped at her face with her dirty arm. It probably made a smudge across her nose, but she didn't care. "They have Cato." She gasped out a sob and buried her face in his chest again. He hesitated and smoothed her hair down to comfort her. After a few moments of her being a pathetic, weak mess, he gripped both her shoulders and pushed back, face turning serious.
"There's only one way to get him back now."
She knew it too. They'd been avoiding attacking the Capitol, unsure of victory. They had the blueprints and some basic strategy Cato helped conjure up, along with the generals of 13 and leaders of several of the districts.
This wasn't a rebellion; it was war.
And it was now time for the final battle.
One Day Later
The war council sat around her. The light above blinded, illuminating the faces around her in sharp angles, showing the worried wrinkles in the leaders sitting beside her. On the walls were maps, but the only important one was splayed out on the circular table in front of her—the blueprints of the Capitol.
The men and women buzzed around with voices raised. Brutus stabbed the map in the center, yelling in the face of a red-haired elite soldier named Morris from District 13, the one that plucked her from the ground after the games. He was usually well-composed, but spittle flew out of his mouth as he yelled back at Brutus. Prim assumed his lack of control stemmed from the loss of Coin. The soldiers and generals from the mythic district had been in flux ever since her death. Cassius cut off the head of the snake and now the body flopped around, unsure where to head next.
The noise and commotion of the people in the room began to burrow in Prim's brain, already overwrought from grief. A headache began to pound behind her eyes, until she couldn't take it anymore.
"Quiet!" She screamed.
Prim wasn't a leader. Coin made sure she understood it on multiple occasions, and Prim never attempted to override that decision.
Despite being the least intimidating person in the room with no experience in battle or strategy, the whole room paused, as if she pressed a mute button. Brutus and Morris snapped their jaw closed.
With the silence, the bodies lowered themselves into chairs. Once the room had been silent for several seconds, and the headache stopped throbbing behind her eyes, she began the discussion.
"From listening to the conversation, I've gathered there are only two ways to enter the city: by force or by deception. Before we can finalize a plan, we need to first choose which route we want to go. Screaming at each other isn't going to accomplish anything."
The man to her right leaned forward, placing his hands together on the table, telling her in the small movement the immense pressure the people in this room were under. The weight of which included freeing an entire nation of people with outdated technology. At most, the room contained ten people, the top soldiers and leaders from the districts that managed to survive the slaughter, a pathetically low number of minds for what was needed.
Cato was the biggest blow to their morale, followed closely by the loss of Coin. He wouldn't be a good leader in peace time, but he was a great general for war. His mind knew the correct stoke to defeat the enemy, the creative genius of slaughter. And Coin, for all her faults, had shaped a rebellion and enacted it.
Without them, the room seemed unable to spark a plan.
"Deception," Morris growled out. "Force will only get us blown to bits at the starting ramp."
"And who would we send?" Brutus contained his anger, but his lips stayed pressed together when not in use. "And how could we get them into the capitol in the first place? A straight-forward battle may not have flair, and we may lose a lot of men in the process, but it has less risk."
"We'd send the best, of course, and we have the blueprints. We may have lost Quintus, but we have others ins—"
"And then what happens when our best is found and slaughtered." Brutus spat back. "This is Snow we are confronting. He won't be an easy man to trick. All it takes is for one soldier to be caught and sing like a canary, and we'd be done."
"You have a point," Prim said. Morris threw her a withering look, mixed with a warning. The rest of the room again went silent, and it unnerved Prim. They looked at her as a leader. Maybe it was her proximity to Cato, mixed with her status as the Mockingjay. Maybe it was the fact she'd dealt with Snow's mind games before, but the eyes around her looked at her with respect she didn't know if she deserved.
"Explain," Brutus said.
With respect comes responsibility. Her decision mattered, and the mass of it wanted to push her down. She could lead them to the land of promise, like Lux said, or she could lead them to a death filled with horror and pain.
She swallowed a breath that wanted to shake. She couldn't show weakness in front of them or else the confusion in the room would sprout up again. Indecision was a weakness that would end the rebellion. She needed to be firm and confident, even if she didn't believe it herself.
She promised to be the Mockingjay, and she would be what the rebellion needed. What Cato needed. What Coral needed.
It was time to bring them home.
"Everyone is wanting me to pick a side, but why bother. How about we do both, force and deception…at the same time."
Morris leaned back in his chair, and Brutus brought a hand to his chin in thought.
"Hm, little girl, I think you may have something. It's so simple I'm not sure why I didn't see it before." His anger melted in a look that she hadn't seen on him before, something that resembled respect. From the others, it made her uncomfortable; from Brutus, it made her blush. "We'll force our way in, bringing a battle to his front door step, providing a cover for the deception inside his city. I think this just might work. But first we'll have to find a way into the damned place without Snow knowing."
The day became more productive after that. The generals and soldiers and leaders leaned forward, chattering in unexpected inspiration.
After an hour, Lux looked up, glancing at Prim as if struck with a brick.
"I can't believe I forgot." He slapped his forehead, face filled with confidence she so desperately wanted to convey. "Mockingjay, I know how we'll win this war."
The Next Morning
Prim walked forward and viewed the hovercraft: top-of-the-line, sleek silver body, and unmatched performance. The only one of its kind. It was due to be delivered to the capitol—the last of Ardor Rose's creations before falling ill—but then District 1 overthrew the Peacekeepers. Having no immediate use for it, Lux stored it in a hangar and forgot about it.
"Show me," Prim asked. She held little Rory, who gurgled and cooed in her arms.
Lux smirked and pulled out a remote clicker and pressed it. It vanished, just like with the button camouflage.
"Impressive," Prim said, still unable to see it, even though it must be just inches from her face. She reached out and touched cold steel, confirming it was real and solid. It was much better than the button camouflage she used in the past. "This just might work. When do we leave?"
"Tonight," Lux said.
Prim nodded and looked at the baby in her arms, knowing shortly she would be separated from him, maybe forever if everything went to shit. He gave a toothless baby grin at her in response. After much arguing with Brutus, she was going with the mission to free Cato. She had to. She couldn't live with herself if she stayed behind. Brutus only capitulated when she threatened to smuggle herself on board anyway, like she did for District 1.
"They'll be alright," Lux said eyeing her son. "Your mother will take them to District 13's bunker. They still have nuclear weapons, and Snow won't touch them."
Sure, they would survive, but what kind of life would she be sending them too, stuck underground the rest of their lives without their mother to take care of them?
"We can't fail."
"Which is why you might need this," a gruff voice said behind her.
She turned to find Brutus. He held out a small object in his hand, pill shaped with a button on top.
"A time stopper," Lux whistled. "How the fuck did you get that? My father only created five, and three have already been… oh, the games, right? The old man. He didn't find that in the games, you know. Snow wouldn't waste something as valuable as that in the games. The old man must have smuggled it in. Not sure where he got it in the first place."
Prim didn't know that. It changed everything, and it changed nothing.
"I thought it was lost," Prim said.
Brutus placed it in the palm of her free hand not holding the baby, curling her fingers around it.
"Gale found it in your clothes after they stripped you of them. He kept it for a while before giving it to me for safe keeping. Said it didn't feel right for him to keep it given how you got it."
"Why are you giving it to me?" Prim asked, trying to hand it back to him. "Don't you want to use it for yourself?"
"It's yours." He pushed her hand away. "Besides, you try to kill yourself on a regular basis. You'll need as many claws as possible if you're going to win this thing."
Prim stared at the object, glad it was back in her possession and then put it in her pocket.
"Well if we're going to be giving out trinkets…" Lux reached inside his shirt and tugged out a necklace hidden under his shirt with a ring as the pendant. He unclasped it and slid off the ring and then held it out to Prim. "Ruby designed it."
A deep, familiar ache went through Prim at the name.
"I can't take it."
"Sure you can." He reached over slid it in her pocket with the Timestopper before she could stop him. She shouldered Rory to get it out, but his hand stopped her. "You suck at receiving gifts. Keep it. I know you don't think so, but Ruby would have wanted you to have it."
"What does it do?"
"Just use if if you get close to someone that needs to learn a lesson, preferably that bastard Cassius." He gave a wink. "Just open the top and press it to skin and make sure you aren't touching the person when you do it, or you'll get a nasty surprise in return.
Prim nodded and patted her pocket, feeling the two lumps in her pocket, knowing each of them did nothing to even the scales in front of her. With each second, winning this damned war seemed beyond hope.
Hours Later
Prim tore out the clothes from her dresser to find nothing. Then she went to her closet in a panic, rifling through the items.
"Where the fuck is it?" She said aloud, anxiety building in her. It should be here.
Cato gave Prim her medicine bag several weeks after arriving, pushing it across the bed while feeding her sons. It was still heavy, filled with the potions and salves she put together.
"You kept it?" Prim had asked in surprise. "I thought you would burn it given what I did that day."
"I wanted to." He shrugged. "But found I couldn't kill the hope that one day I could return it to you."
Later, Prim lovingly opened the satchel, tugging the contents into the light. She picked up the vial containing the remnants of the sleeping potion that put under Cato so long ago, watching the blue glass catch the light. She color-coded the contents based on what they contained. Yellow for pain. Green for healing. Blue for miscellaneous. It was the only one she created for ill-use, and now the look of it brought her shame, reminding her of all it cost her. She had closed the bag and placed it at the bottom of the closet.
And now here she sat, glaring at the empty spot in confusion. She tore through the rest of the room, thinking she misplaced it. But it wasn't anywhere. Gone. Disappeared.
Someone stole it, though she didn't know why.
She wanted to bring it with her, feeling naked going into war without her kit. What if something happened? She would have a standard first aid kit in her bag, but it wasn't the same.
On the way out of the room, Prim ran into a hulking figure with blond hair with the same build and coloring as his son. Cato was a carbon copy of his father.
Mr. Carthage steadied Prim with large hands and shoved her backwards.
"Don't give him mercy," he said in a gruff voice. Prim almost stepped back. If she didn't know any better, she'd suspect he was crying.
"Who?" Prim said dumbly, knowing full well he spoke of his son, Cassius. But his father ignored the question.
"Don't give him mercy," he stated again, harder this time. "Because he won't give you any."
Prim could barely absorb the encounter in her brain before the old blond victor ambled away down the hallway with thundering footsteps.
Mid-Afternoon
Prim held both her boys, tears in her eyes. She kissed each one, tracing the tiny bow lips and tried to memorize their scents, just in case she needed something to recall if she was dying.
She handed one baby to her mother and one to Mrs. Carthage. Her mother shook but accepted Max with trembling hands.
Mrs. Carthage was more stoic, accepting Rory while cooing at him. The boys must have sensed the tension in the air, because they wailed, making what she had to do much harder.
The twins were going back to District 13 with their grandmothers, and she would be heading into the belly of the beast.
"We'll take good care of them," Mrs. Carthage said. She glared at her mother until she nodded in agreement. "Just bring my boy back home. And Coral too."
Prim gasped. She couldn't stand this. She twisted and walked out of the room before the cries could compel her to stay. She took a note out of Brutus' book—don't say goodbye unless you want it to be permanent.
Later that Night
Nighttime descended, the clouds obscuring the stars and moons, making the inky black sky ominous and impenetrable. Prim marched back to the town square where all the soldiers gathered. Multitudes of them. In just moments they would be packing up and heading out, ready to batter Snow's front door. For now, they buzzed around, shifting from foot to foot, some nervous, some eager. She was going to bypass them, heading for the Hangar where the cloaked ship was kept, ready to secret her and a hand-picked crew into the center of the Capitol, straight into the snake pit.
Lux found her, tugging on her arm.
Prim looked up, her face crinkling into a sad smile.
"Remember not to fuck up the assault. I'm counting on dramatic explosions and firepower for distraction."
Lux and Cato's father were going to lead the ground assault, and Gale would lead the air assault, since he trained as a pilot in District 13. Brutus revealed Snow had the city set up like a giant booby trap, making a true battle impossible without mass casualties. Even the underground transport tunnels would be crawling with bots and mutants ready to tear into them. It would take a miracle to get past it all, which is why their mission into the heart of Snow's compound would be to find the control room and shut down the systems, giving the army access to invade with minimal retaliation.
"I won't let you down," Lux said, giving a mock salute. "But don't think you'll get out of giving a speech before you go on your hero journey."
"What?" Prim spat back, not in the mood for this.
"You're the Mockingjay." He rolled his eyes. "The inspiration for the movement. You're about to send hundreds of men to their potential death. The least you can do is pep them up."
"I'm not sure—"
But Lux did not give her an option. His fingers tightened on her arm and tugged until she struggled up the stairs where he had at one time put her on trial. The dread felt the same as then with each step. After the fifth step, he let go, knowing all eyes trained on her, and now she had no choice but to continue.
"I hate you," she whispered under her breath.
"Lies."
Prim walked onto the stage to absolute silence. The soldiers, some of them trained, some of them amateurs, some of them young, some of them old, all stared at her with a hopeful expression, as if she could bring them the victory they craved.
She swallowed her fear of being the center of attention. It was getting easier now to ignore it. She had been getting a lot of practice. Besides, she already knew exactly what she wanted to say.
"Snow once told me we were his children and he our father," she yelled to the crowd. "He threatened to press us under his thumb until we cried to him as our true God." She paused, letting the crowd's agitation grow. "He believes yesterday was a form of discipline. A skirmish in a pathetic rebellion that's doomed." Prim sneered, remembering Cato begging for a merciful death. "We are not his children, and yesterday was an act of war. It's time Snow remembers what fear tastes like."
The crowd roared, lifting their helmets into the air.
Snow threw her into the games intending either to kill her or turn her into a monster. Well, a monster is what he'd get.
Twenty Minutes Later
Prim boarded the cloaked ship with Lorcan. The only person already on board was Ivanka Green from Tea Time—the blood-thirsty chosen tribute from District 2 had Theodora not gone. She shook her long blond hair that trailed down to her butt. She didn't look like much but remembered Katla's warning of her ruthless blood lust, bordering on insanity. Indeed, she did not look afraid or friendly. She picked at the undersides of her fingertips with a wicked sharp knife, only blinking at Prim once in acknowledgment before going back to her task.
Her skill in battle was one of the reasons Prim chose her for the mission.
Hannibal walked in next, looking handsome in his tight-fitting uniform. He had cropped his golden curls close to his head, and it made him look so much like Cato it bordered on painful. He gave a lop-sided smirk that could make girl's hearts flutter. Ivanka looked up from her boredom with a look of appreciation, but he ignored her.
Prim raised her eyebrows at his haircut.
Hannibal blushed and rubbed his hand over the short length.
"My mom's been after me for a while to cut it. Thought I'd grant the request before—"Hannibal stopped what he said. His eyes narrowed at something over Prim's shoulder. "Fuck no!"
Prim turned her head to see Katla stomping her way past the hangar doors towards the hovercraft with a full uniform on, as if she'd—
"Nope," Hannibal said again. "No, you aren't. You march your hard-headed ass right back to my mother."
"Sorry, Chompers." Katla held a black helmet under her arm. "I'm not very good at being the kept woman, hiding inside while men do all the work."
By this point she was already at the ramp, and Hannibal looked on the edge of violence.
"War is not the same as working in the stone quarries."
Katla scoffed and scaled the steps, marching herself until she stood in front of Hannibal.
"Like hell it's not. It's just as deadly, and I've wielded a pick ax my whole life. A sword and knife aren't much different." She paused as if considering. "Granted, guns are new. But you showed me—"
"We only shot stationary targets," Hannibal answered, exasperated.
Brutus and Morris thundered up the ramp behind Katla, boarding the ship, rounding out her little crew. Each brought their own set of skills. Lorcan because she trusted him. Ivanka for her ability to kill without hesitation. Brutus for his strength. Morris for his strategy. And Hannibal for his stupid courage, which is what usually wins wars in the end. The ability to take chances when needed. Morris was right during the war council. If they failed this mission, it would be a blow the rebellion might not recover from. The only one that was semi-useless was Prim herself, and she tried not to dwell on that before the battle. Cato needed her to be brave and have a clear mind.
Thinking of Cato, the grief slammed into her, digging its ugly claws into her heart. Maybe she couldn't save him. Maybe he was already dead. It was almost too much. Tears threatened to slip down her cheeks, but she stopped them.
"Word of advice, son…" Brutus shouldered past Katla who stayed in a deadly staring contest with Hannibal, each digging in their heels. "If a woman sets her mind on something, there's not a thing in the world that will change it. You're better off just letting her. If you stand in her way, she's liable to make a path through you."
"He's right," said Katla catching a giant gun thrown her way and placing it on her shoulder. "You were born in a family full of bitches and brutes. I have to fit in some way."
The side of Hannibal's mouth quirked up despite himself.
"Can we desist the feelings," Ivanka said, back to cleaning her nails, giving a sneer at the scene before her. "We have a tyrant to dismember."
"Well said." Brutus walked towards the seats and buckled himself in. The rest followed, using bars and latches, because according to Lux, it would go "extremely fast." When Katla sat, Hannibal grumbled and sat down by her. After buckling, he reached out and grabbed her hand and she squeezed back.
"If you die, I die," he warned. "Take this," he said and unstrapped a bracelet from his wrist and wrapped it around Katla's.
"What is it?" Katla asked in curiosity.
"It's a creation from Lux. Never been used, but he swears it works great. Gave one to Lorcan and Brutus too. Just press the button on the side, and it transforms into some sort of gun."
"How would it do that?"
Hannibal shrugged. "Beats me. He went on a scientific rant, but you know I was shit at school. All I know is if it works, it'll give you another weapon to use if the other is taken."
Katla nodded, suddenly wary.
"Let's go over the plan one more time for Katla," Prim asked, trying to breathe through the panic. She said it to distract herself.
Hannibal groaned, but Morris made a harsh noise in his throat.
"She's right. You've only played at war, boy. You are only as good as what you've memorized in real battle. Another recital will do everyone good."
Hannibal gave a little blush at being chastised and looked away. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was as young as she was.
Morris's wilting gaze let up on Hannibal and looked back at Prim. His face matched his personality: weathered, indeterminable age, and hard as a rock. He was usually all business, and she did not know him outside of a few high-pressure situations.
"We will drive this invisible ship past the edges of the capitol and land in the center of the city at the Gamemaker Quintus' home. It has a Heli-pad for easy landing and, based on our spies, is still unoccupied. From there we go to the trash tunnels on the southside of the building. The tunnels are attached to every house in the city, including Snow's compound. Once we've breached the walls, it's a clusterfuck. The blueprints do not show where his control room is, so our top objective is to find and shut down the systems in the city. Hopefully, Lux and Hawthorne will put up a good fight, enough where it distracts Snow from what's going on under his nose. And when we override the system, they can march in unmolested. The capitol won't be able to defeat our numbers."
When he finished, it became silent for a long time. The plan had a lot of holes, a lot of areas that could go wrong. It was their only option though. The trash tunnels were a foolish risk, filled with machines and fire. Snow wouldn't expect it because who would be stupid enough? The flaw in the system—it didn't run from midnight to two in the morning on Sundays.
"Remember," Brutus said. "If you get lost, use your helmets. And once we get inside, we'll change into the Capitol soldiers we stowed in your pack. Word of warning, lose you pack, and you're fucked."
Another invention bestowed upon them from Lux's personal stores: a helmet prototype with an in-built computer that ran off thoughts. Lux already downloaded the map of the city and compound, as well as their personal heat signatures based off DNA, so they can track each other. They ran out of button camouflage, both in District 1 and 2, making their subterfuge more dangerous, relying on old-fashion methods like disguise.
The pressure weighed down everyone in the hovercraft. Even Ivanka looked hesitant before a grin spread on her face.
"I wonder if Capitol blood is sweet. I've been wanting to slit the wrists of those peacocks to taste it for a long time."
Prim shivered, remembering Jace. It made her think about how she used his fears to defeat him. She'd have to figure out a similar plan for Snow soon. So the question remained: what did President Snow fear? Or if Cassius was right all along: what did he love?
She was afraid both the answers to the questions would be nothing.
Thirty Minutes Later
The hovercraft zipped in the sky, lethal and stealthy as a jungle cat, until it landed against the ground with a small tap.
"That was fast," Prim said. It had only been thirty minutes since take off. For some reason, she thought it would be a longer trip, that she'd have more time to prepare for the struggle that awaited her. As they landed, panic wanted to swallow her whole.
"District 1 is located right next to the capitol," Brutus answered. "Lux should be only a few hours behind us, at the most."
"Ready?" Hannibal asked.
Prim looked away, afraid to show how fucking terrified she really felt, like her bones could dissolve upon standing.
"Ready."
In answer, the ships hydraulics started popping. It only took seconds for the crew to get untangled and once they did, they didn't waste time, standing and running off the boarding ramp. It closed behind them, obscuring the ship in case they needed a quick getaway.
Looking around, Prim realized that their spies were correct, Quintus' home was abandoned. In just a short time, nature already won the battle of retaking its land. In the reflection of moonlight, Prim saw Ivy crawled up the walls. The windows smudged with dirt. It was an intimidating house, three stories tall, made to look like a fortress of the ancients. Iron turrets sent it soaring into the sky.
"Quaint," Katla said at her shoulder. "You can tell he was a humble individual."
Hannibal snorted in response.
"Close your jaw and let's go," Brutus said.
"How are we going to get in to this thing?" Prim asked, running up behind him. For an old, giant man he was nimble and quick, and Prim had issues keeping up with the pace. The helipad stood about fifty yards from the house, and they had to sprint the whole way. They didn't run on the tarmac, but through the trees and underbrush beside it, thick and heavy enough it reminded her of the forests in the games—a dangerous tangle of things wanting to swallow her whole. She banished the memories and the fear, reminding herself that she beat it long ago. They stopped when they reached stone. "Do we have a key?"
In answer, Brutus picked up a rock and slammed it into the nearest large window. It had been an elegant thing with leaded panes that had to be stuck twice to splinter and a third to shatter.
Prim flinched with the raining glass, shocked Brutus would make such a loud noise after the subterfuge they attempted getting there.
"I thought we had to be quiet."
"No," Brutus pulled out a towel from a small pack on his back. "We have to be fast. We only have one hour to get in this house and through those tunnels before the fires stoke again."
He wrapped the towel around his fist and punched out the rest of the glass, laying it over the bottom and then vaulted himself over. The window had been large enough that even Brutus' massive body glided through. After that, he helped the rest of them over. Ivanka slipped and the glass bit her thigh, leaving a bloody trail.
After he helped Prim through, she leaned over and looked at the career's wound. Ivanka wiggled away from her with a sneer.
"Don't touch me again or your throat will be the first I slit tonight."
"But I was trying to help—"
Ivanka brushed past her, shutting up Prim. She walked to the opposite side of the room and began caring for her own wound.
"Are you sure we can trust her?" Katla asked at Prim's shoulder.
Prim's mouth tightened. No, she wasn't sure. Ivanka Green was a gamble to bring, but she needed more people with the skill to kill.
Lorcan jumped in last and walked up to both Katla and Prim. They stared at the others in the hallway before them. They were giving Ivanka a few moments to inspect her wound and clean it with a disinfecting spray before heading out.
"Trust that bitch?" He answered Katla. "Fuck no. She's like a cat. Tame as long as you feed her, but as soon as you die and forget, she'll be just as happy to nibble on your corpse."
"You told me to bring her."
"Of course, I did," He said. "She's pure predator. And you've just given her free reign to hunt. She'll be as loyal as a person like her can be because of that. Not to mention, capitol soldiers killed her parents in front of her when she was young. I think this is less for the cause and more for revenge."
That made Prim feel more confident with the decision. Revenge she could understand. It burst through her own veins, giving her heart extra beats. One for Snow. One for Cassius. It wouldn't cease until she did its bidding.
"Quit your jabbering," Brutus said with a frown, putting the towel back into his pack. "We've already wasted enough time."
They walked in a straight line down the hallway. Brutus led them using his helmet to guide him.
They went deep into the house, and then they went down until they ended in the basement. In the corner was a trash chute with a metal door. Prim glanced at it warily, second-guessing all the plans they made.
"Are you sure the fires will be out?"
"I wouldn't let you jump if I wasn't," Brutus said, unlatching the door and opening it. "It's currently exactly one in the morning. Enough time for the chutes to cool and enough time to reach the other side, if we hurry."
"And you're sure this reaches Snow's compound?"
Brutus gave an annoyed sigh.
"All the tunnels are connected in the city. About three miles inland is Snow's lair. So who wants to jump first?"
From everyone's pinched expressions, Prim knew she wasn't the only one that held reservations.
"How about the Mockingjay?" Hannibal teased. "She's the inspiration for all of Panem. Mine too. I just know if she jumps first, she'll inspire the courage in all of us."
"You are too kind," Prim answered between clenched teeth.
"Listening to the bunch of you is going to kill me faster than that incinerator," Morris said. It was the first thing he said since the hover-craft ride. Prim could tell he thought they were just a bunch of immature children. "We have something similar back home," he said, glancing into the metal depths of the chute inches from his feet. "If it was on, we'd feel the heat from here."
He jumped, disappearing into the ground. The basement floor consumed him whole. The people above held their collective breath. There were no shrieks of agony or groans of death.
"We don't have all night," Morris yelled at them from below. "We have a timetable to keep, unless you wish to be roasted to a crisp."
Prim volunteered next. She stood at the mouth and jumped, not allowing herself to overthink the fear. Her body whooshed down the chute, sliding against the metal. They had a makeshift slide at their primary school, and it always was her favorite thing to do. But this was much faster and the metal so warm it almost burned, even though the fires never touched it. The remnants of heat were enough to remind her of the danger she was in.
Her feet slammed hard against the ground. She rolled out of the way, gingerly rubbing her ankles, bouncing to her feet because the floor felt on fire and now her hands did too.
It was pitch black, so Prim reached to her pack and dug out a flashlight. When she clicked it on, Morris's serious face was right in front of her. It was oppressively hot, much worse than the desert in the games. It hurt to breath in the smoky air. The brief touch to the floor burned her fingers. She hissed at the lingering pain but tried to ignore it.
"I'm out of the way," Prim called up to the others.
Hannibal plopped down next with a grunt. He groaned. Her flashlight followed him as he rolled out of the way, checking for injuries like she did. He looked at her with a betrayed expression.
"You could have told me the floor burned."
The rest joined them shortly. Lorcan came last and popped something in his ankle.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm not a baby chick. You can stop being a mother hen." He told Prim when she wanted to look at it. He brushed her away. "Don't worry. I'll keep up."
They huddled together in a group for a moment. The tunnel was wide, the length where four of them could stand shoulder to shoulder and still not touch the sides.
"Which way do we go?" Ivanka asked.
Brutus pointed his flashlight forward, illuminating the path. Lingering smoke drifted in the light, almost suffocating it.
The heat sent a trickle of sweat down her neck into her shirt. She found it hard to breath, and when the flashlight drifted away from her, she felt lost in darkness, as if she was the only person in the world except the monsters in the dark.
"Well kids," Brutus said. For the first time in her life she detected fear in her voice. "Welcome to hell. Our only goal is to make it through without the devil noticing us."