Peeta
There's a beeping. It's steady and evenly spaced, sounding out at each beat of my heart.
Katniss would side-eye her heart monitor machine with the same level of animosity she used to save for Buttercup. It used to make me laugh at her expense, but if it was as annoying to her then as it is to me now, I swear on all the Odds I'll never mock her again.
I groan, knowing the noise is both pathetic and won't actually accomplish anything other than to make me feel better in some small way. But I'm not even left with that, because –
"Son of a bitch!" I yelp. My eyes fly open, and everything is immediately overwhelming – the lights are too bright, the breeze is too chilled, the beeping sounds are too biting.
What the hell?
"Welcome back, Blondie." I swing around to find Johanna greedily eyeing my morphling drip as she sprawls out in a chair next to my cot.
Again, what the hell?
Either she can see the question in my expression or the morphling is messing with my head and I voiced my thoughts out loud, because she swiftly informs me, "You got shot, kiddo. We all very much appreciate you being the test subject for Beetee's armor, because now we know it'll stop bullets to the chest."
It all comes screaming back to me in a deluge of sharp pain and sudden fear - the Nut, the avalanches, the waiting. The man who reminded me of my brother, the desperation to make sure he wouldn't kill me. The pain of being hit with something I couldn't see and Johanna's voice screaming my name just before everything went black.
"Shit," I mutter, not knowing what else could be said at this moment.
"Mmmhhhhmmm," she hums out in agreement. "All captured on film if you decide you want a front-row seat to your own heroics. Or mine - you know, after you passed out," she adds as she examines her fingernails.
Oh no.
"Did they see it in 13?" I whisper in horror. Katniss. I remember how unhinged she became every time I almost died in the Games; if she doesn't know that I didn't actually die during the attack in 2, there's a strong chance she's been sent over the edge. "How long have I been out?"
"Oh, they saw it alright," she snorts out a sardonic chuckle, probably imagining the same thing I am. "Caesar aired it the next day. Of course, they cut off the footage just as you went down, to leave your fate ambiguous. Don't worry though, Coin wasted no time confirming your miraculous survival – that propo has been airing nonstop all night. To answer your other question – you've been out for two days."
I'm relieved, because at least Katniss has to know that I'm fine by now. My guilt at the probability that she's seen the footage from 2 hasn't dissipated though. She doesn't need the added stress of seeing me shot; I can't imagine how I would react if our situations were reversed.
"What's the damage?" I ask her, flinching as I shift my position to try and get a bit more comfortable.
"Three bruised ribs and they had to remove your spleen because the bullet ruptured it beyond repair." Johanna takes a moment to sit forward in her chair and clear her throat. "Peeta…I don't know why they didn't evacuate you back to 13," she admits hesitantly, her voice barely louder than a murmur. "The medics suggested it, but evidently Coin refused, and they moved you to the field hospital to do the surgery. You're fine…but…I'm not sure. Something about the whole situation rubs me the wrong way."
I agree with her, Coin's decisions don't make much sense. While the medical facilities in the rebel camp are fully functional, they're not made for anything more than crude surgery and dressing battle wounds. Then again, Coin was inclined to let all of us die during the rescue mission to save the other victors in the Capitol.
I relay my thoughts to her, and Johanna taps her fingers on the arm of her chair, nodding decisively as I finish. She mutters something under her breath, but all I can pick up is, "...something else to fucking worry about." Then her face transforms, and she smirks as she says, "I told Brainless I'd watch your back, so stop getting your ass shot. You're making me look bad."
I bark out a laugh at Jo, but the moan of pain follows right on its heels. Son of a bitch.
After two more days on a morphling drip along with the Capitol-grade medicines that Enobaria tells me are a benefit of District 2's favorable relationship with Snow, I finally feel well-enough to sit down with Cressida to film a propo. We go over the questions beforehand, so I'm aware she'll be asking me to speak directly to the rebels, as well as Katniss. I hate to put my newfound closeness with Katniss on display for the cameras, but I'm also desperate to send her a message.
I sit across from Cressida in my new uniform – my old one was cut away from my body by the medics when they took me in for surgery. I elect to leave the armor off for a few more days until I heal a bit more; I have a feeling the added pressure from the armor won't do my sensitive ribs any favors. I say the things expected of me, encouraging the rebels to continue fighting, and I hope it is enough for Coin. Johanna's suspicions are in the forefront of my mind as I speak, and I choose each of my words with care so as not to stir up any doubt in my devotion to the cause. But it is when Cressida prompts me to speak directly to Katniss that I feel genuinely moved for the first time during the conversation. While I try to formulate an answer, I think of the scowl on Katniss's face when she saw me off on that last day, and I can't help but be amused at how quickly I've failed her directive to stay safe. I'm suddenly desperate to see her, but I can't bear to invite questions about the contents of my pendant if I take it off to steal a glance at her picture now. Instead, I think of her on our last night together, how beautiful she was, stretched out on the ground beneath me. I think of her bravery when she told me that she wanted to be with me, taking that last huge step towards intimacy that I never would have been brave enough to propose in that moment. I realize there is nothing I want to say to Katniss that would feel appropriate to share with the rest of Panem.
So instead, I fall back on my charm and tell Cressida, "As long as she knows I'm alive, she'll be fine – Katniss knows how I feel about her, always. She's probably furious with me for getting hurt, and I hope she didn't worry for too long before she got news that I wasn't seriously injured."
I can only hope it's enough.
My body heals for the most part, but I still need to wrap a bandage around my chest to cushion my ribs against my body armor. Boggs and Paylor have us move out of District 2 almost as soon as I'm able to march long distances, starting us on a multi-day trek towards the outskirts of the Capitol, aiming for the last rebel installment before crossing over into the city proper. Commander Lyme will remain with her troops in 2 to tamp down any remaining pockets of Capitol support while the rest of us continue on. Enobaria is offered a place under Lyme's command, and while I can tell she is tempted to take it, she ultimately decides to stay with us. I'm quietly thankful because I know Johanna would stay with her – and while Gale's animosity towards me seems a little less sharp, he still doesn't make for ideal one-on-one company. When I ask Enobaria about her choice not to stay in 2, she replies with a vague, I made a vow, and doesn't seem inclined to elaborate.
So, we go. I realize this is it – we're finally moving into place for the final battle of this rebellion. It edges closer and closer with each step we take towards the Capitol.
The mountains continue on for miles, even after Enobaria informs us that we've crossed out of 2 and into the no-man's land that lies between the district borders and those of the Capitol. The path towards the Capitol isn't paved, but at least it's cleared of brush so we aren't slowed down too much. Being out here in the wilds between civilization is intoxicating – I get the sense I could run away, and no one would know where to even begin looking for me. I imagine this is what appealed to Katniss about the woods outside 12, why she urged me to run with her when we returned from the Victory Tour. The sense of possibility out here is overwhelming and endless. I wish she was here with me rather than stuck underground, facing no way out until this war is over; it is just one more motivation for me to do my part to end this.
We set up camp for the night when we're only two days' hike out from the rebel post. Cressida and her crew are checking over their supplies while Gale prepares the game he caught for dinner and Johanna builds a fire. The two of them are bickering over the ideal preparation of an animal, one I'm fairly sure neither of them actually knows anything about. Enobaria is smirking at the pointless argument between these two impossibly stubborn people while the two of us put up tents.
Suddenly, there's a crackling noise we haven't once heard since setting out on this march. It's over as quickly as it started, but we all immediately fall into an uncomfortable silence and begin shooting each other questioning looks. Was that the comm device? We mostly use it to communicate with 13, but our parting orders were only to make contact upon reaching the next rebel camp. We were advised that there was a possibility its signal could be tracked by the Capitol, and it was ground into us to the point of annoyance before we left 2 - I fucking get it! I'm not deaf, you underground twat! Jo actually shrieked at Coin's disembodied voice - that we are not expecting to communicate with anyone.
It's static – loud and piercing and only broken up by half-formed words we can't make out. "Come in – Boggs! Son of a…. Peeta? Mason? Brass? Fuck, I'll even take Hawthorne! Anyone of you assholes there?" It's Haymitch. I'd know his salty carping anywhere. Except now I'm hearing something in his tone that I've never heard before – desperation. Fear.
"Go for Boggs," Commander Boggs answers. As unprecedented as Haymitch's call is, Boggs doesn't betray any concern over the other man's anxiety.
Static, followed by, "…gone! Kat –" More static, then empty dead space in which all of the worst things I could ever imagine are rapidly taking up residence. "They're all gone! Do you fuckin –"
"Can you repeat that?" Boggs asks. His voice is tight and incredulous, and he's looking at us with an expression of genuine confusion.
A series of cut-off words interrupted by long stretches of static are relayed over the comm device. I'm tempted to leap across everyone and rip the comm out of Boggs's hands to try and get a hold of Haymitch myself. I need to know what he's trying to say. I know he said Katniss's name – she's gone? Gone where?
"Fuck!" Haymitch's curse pierces the quiet and Boggs looks like he's about to try again to establish a connection over the comm when Haymitch is finally able to get more than one word at a time out to us.
"They're gone! All of them – Katniss, Finnick, Annie – they're all fucking gone! She fucking traded them…. I can't believe that Odds-damned bitch actually did it!" There's a static-filled pause in which no one speaks; no one on our end, and no one on Haymitch's.
"Abernathy…," Boggs trails off, like he has no idea what to ask next. This time, I don't hesitate; I cross the space separating me from my commander and snatch the comm device out of his hand. Fuck it, I'll apologize later.
"Haymitch!" I can hear the anguish in my own voice and try to fight through it to keep it together. I need to know what the hell is going on, right now. "What the fuck are you talking about? Where have they gone? Who traded them? Who is 'she'? Where are they?"
"Coin!" His reply is sharp, cutting through the questions that are tumbling out of my mouth. "She got an offer – I don't know how he contacted her…. She traded the victors for the release of five hundred prisoners of war being held in District 5. I don't know…. They were here - they were right here! I ate Odds-damned dinner with them last night! I put Katniss to bed early – she got tired so fast after…. Shit! Shit! Shit! That bitch drugged her! I should have - This morning they were gone…. I'm sorry kid, I…I don't know where he took them –"
"Haymitch, please!" I'm pleading with him now. I need to know, "Who – who has them?" I'm almost certain I know the answer, but I need to hear him say the words. I feel as though I'm about to start vomiting up my guts from the anxiety that's threatening to destroy me entirely.
But it's silent. No static, no shuffling on the other end of the comm. No confirmation of my fears from Haymitch. No ruminations on where Katniss or my friends could have been taken. There's just quiet, one that is so weighted with ugly possibilities that I cannot overlook it as it breaks apart my heart and quickly fills the emptiness left inside my chest.
We don't hear from Haymitch again.
Johanna stomps off, appearing to need some space to process the news we just received. Boggs continues to try to make contact with Haymitch but doesn't meet with any success. Gale is pacing back and forth, alternating between shooting furtive looks at the rest of us and brooding in the direction of the fire. I realize he must be having a hard time with the things Haymitch said – the esteemed leader of his rebellion has apparently traded away his best friend – but I am barely hanging on, and helping Gale figure out his feelings isn't something I'm up for.
Personally, I feel like I'm about to pass out from the jittery panic that's fighting for control of me. Since we left for 2, things have been quiet on District 13's end, and I guess that was my mistake, assuming silence meant things were uneventful. But Coin…what was she thinking? That the victors' lives were less meaningful than her prisoners of war – or was she looking for an excuse to get rid of them, and this was the trade that fell into her lap? Did she trade them directly to Snow? Are they being held in the Capitol, or in District 5, where the prisoners were from? Are they alive? Are they cold or hurt? Is Finn able to take care of Annie? If he's taking care of Annie, is Katniss suffering for it? Oh my Odds - is she back in a cage? Are they already dead?
My thoughts are spiraling, and I'm beginning to understand what Katniss was talking about when she would get sucked into her own head, falling victim to her galloping anxieties. Enobaria's hand suddenly lands on my shoulder, her firm grip snapping me out of it just before I start screaming. I turn my head, catching her concerned expression, and gift her with a small grimace that's meant to serve as thanks. I must get the message across because she nods once and looks away. I follow her gaze to Jo, who has sunk to the ground and is ripping up the grass surrounding her by the roots.
"Is it Snow?" I quietly ask her. I don't sound like myself; my voice is guttural and broken, and it hurts to speak. "That's who has them, isn't it?"
She nods again and crosses her arms tightly in front of her. "That'd be my guess," she replies, her voice rough as well.
"What will he do to them?" I dare to wonder.
Enobaria is quiet for a few moments; I assume she's trying to figure out how truthful to be in her answer, and I pray she doesn't coddle me. She taps two fingers against her bicep and says, "I can only hope – if it is Snow – he'll use them to send a message. Maybe force a surrender from the rebels? But if he thinks this war is too far gone and he has nothing left to lose…. Then I can only hope Katniss follows through with what she told me she wanted if it came down to that."
My heart lurches, but I clear my throat and prompt her, "And what was that?"
She turns to face me fully, and I can see the softness that Enobaria tries so hard to hide from the rest of the world. She's showing me kindness…empathy…pity, and somehow that makes it all so much worse. "We made a promise to each other, she and I – if we lost, we'd rather die than let Snow take us again. I assume the same stands in this situation as well."
"No! Enobaria –" I protest. I can't – I can't – let that happen. Absolutely not.
"Peeta, no," she interrupts me gently. She knows her words have upset me, and she places both of her strong hands on my upper arms, bracing me physically for her next words. "What we went through…. We've told you a lot – what they did to us and the injury done to us – but I don't know that we can ever fully explain the suffering. What we felt every day for all those months was unimaginable – the crushing pain, the humiliation…they broke us down and never built us back up. We only had each other for that. And the reason why Jo and Annie and I all recovered faster than Katniss? It was because she was the one we all leaned on; she was the one who sang to Annie, and she listened to me talk to keep myself from going mad, and she fought with Jo to keep her from snapping at the rest of us. Odds knows I tried to be a friend to her in return, but she was just so much better at it, and we all gravitated to her."
"She's never known the effect she has," I whisper, my chest squeezing with pride at hearing how Katniss took care of the others during their imprisonment. It's just so her.
"She doesn't," Enobaria agrees. "But that's just it. If we lose, or Snow has her and has nothing to use her for, she's going to suffer. She's probably going to suffer more than we ever did before, and I don't know if she believes in herself enough to get through it again. So, I…I hope she doesn't, but she might find a way to end it…if it comes to that." She winces at this last part, as though she's loath to give voice to such a thought. But there has always been honor in death for Enobaria, and I can see the truth all too well in what she's telling me.
Oh my girl, my Katniss. Snow has already taken everything else away from me – he's destroyed my home, murdered my entire family and all of my friends, he's taken my leg, and tortured the woman I love. Katniss is all I have left. I pull my pendant away from me and pop it open to look at the pictures of her. The hint of her smile looks back at me, and it's enough – Odds, it's enough – to pull me back from the hole I feel myself sinking into.
I exhale loudly and close the locket before returning it to the place around my neck, tucking it below my uniform and body armor. "We need to try," I tell Enobaria, my voice firmer than before. "I…I can't give up on her yet. Finn and Annie too. We have to think of something – figure out a way to get more information about what's going on."
"Agreed, assholes," Johanna mutters as she joins us. "That creepy gray bitch has to have let it slip where she was sending Brainless and those lovesick idiots. Maybe I can arm wrestle Boggs for a favor, see if he can put out some feelers under Coin's nose." She pauses to flex her arm muscles before pointedly examining mine. "On the other hand, maybe I'll leave the feats of physical strength to you, Blondie. We need to make our wins count, right?"
Thankfully, it doesn't take any convincing on our part to persuade Boggs and Paylor to put out inquiries about where Katniss and the others may have been moved to. We're all on edge as we wait for any information to come back to us, but we all seem to be processing it differently.
Jo and Enobaria keep to themselves, whispering to one another over clasped hands; occasionally they direct furtive looks in my direction, and I can only suppose they're debating bringing me into the fold on whatever it is they're planning. While I'm a victor just like them, my prosthetic can sometimes slow me down; I may not be the most useful ally, but I am the one most likely to support them no matter what we encounter while trying to rescue Katniss and the others.
Gale is pacing and refuses to even look at me. From what I know about him, the fact that he has been proven wrong about where he has placed his loyalties must be tearing him apart. Katniss had been warning him off Coin for weeks, and now she's been proven right, perhaps at the cost of her life.
And me…. I'm adrift. My lover and my friends are missing and are likely in the hands of the man who wants to destroy them more than anything. Snow has always hated Katniss because he couldn't control her; I saw it in his eyes when he crowned us victors after the 74th Games. He seethes with it – the need to tear her apart, and any others like her. I know what will happen, I can see it all laid out in front of me: Snow will kill Annie to hurt Finn and Katniss, using that pain to break them down. Finn will go next, to drive it home to Katniss that she cannot save everyone. Once she's the only one left, he'll do what he wants with her, slowly… painfully … publically, if he can; and even if she lives, I'm not sure she'll ever truly recover. I will lose her no matter what.
At the end of a sleepless night and no additional information making it back to us, Boggs makes the call for us to keep moving. The idea of doing anything other than immediately rescuing Katniss, Finn, and Annie is paralyzing, but Boggs explains that breaking down camp and continuing our march is really the only option.
"No matter what, the rebel camp is where we need to be," he explains considerately. Even though he is our commander, he seems to understand that we're all on the verge of falling apart. We're more like broken shards of glass than soldiers at the moment, and we're all on the brink of shattering. "We can resupply, and I can reach out to more contacts about where Katniss and the others could have been taken," he continues. "We'll be closer to the Capitol, and while we don't have confirmation, I believe there's a strong chance Snow would have taken them there. Most of the districts are highly unstable right now, and Snow wouldn't chance holding symbols of the Rebellion in a location where he isn't in total control of the people, let alone travel there himself."
"He'll want them alive, at least for now," Enobaria confirms.
"Snow is going to want to be there when he hurts them," Jo grumbles. She's got her arms crossed in front of her and she's hunched in on herself; it's so different from the Johanna I've gotten to know throughout our time in the Quell and in 13. We're all breaking down under the pressure, and it's apparent that whatever is happening to Katniss and Finn and Annie has the potential to destroy all of us.
"So let's work with the theory that they're in the Capitol," Boggs confirms. "Sources from inside the government previously confirmed that the only place Snow could easily hold prisoners would be the Tribute Center. When we get to the camp, I'll check in with the people we have on the inside that may be able to confirm this. In the meantime, if we don't contact President Coin when we're scheduled to arrive at the next rebel posting, she's going to get suspicious. We don't know where Abernathy is in 13, or if the president even knows that he relayed information on her actions to us. I need to proceed as though the president is in the dark, otherwise she won't hesitate to take the rest of you out."
The fact that Commander Boggs is willing to go against Coin so easily makes me think he has harbored doubts about her leadership for a while now. Her selling out the vulnerable victors we left in her protection may have just been the final straw.
The march towards the Capitol is slow and exhausting; my prosthetic is rubbing my leg raw, and my ribs are aching with each step taken. The lack of sleep the night before is catching up to all of us, and even though no one wants to stop and rest, Boggs and Paylor force us to make camp only a few miles away from our destination.
I don't bother with setting up my tent; I've always needed the breeze from an open window to help me sleep, and after my time underground in 13, the openness of the night sky helps to alleviate the suffocating loneliness of trying to sleep without Katniss in my arms. The cool wind comes down off the mountains and catches my hair, I close my eyes and pretend it is her fingers instead. I rest my hand over my pendant and pretend the weight of my hand on my chest is her own. She would always trace the muscles of my chest when she thought I was asleep; I never disabused her of this notion, because for a long time it was the only way she would get close to me.
I can't help but flinch conspicuously when someone's weight drops just behind my head, breaking me from my reverie.
"Odds, you victors are the jumpiest people I've ever met," Gale mutters.
I tilt my head back to get eyes on him; he's sitting nearby with his arms wrapped around his legs and is focusing on the fire a few feet away from us.
"Thought you said we were the most paranoid," I counter with a smirk because Gale will always have a long list of ways to negatively describe me.
"One doesn't rule out the other," he quips. He's right, so I choose not to argue the point further with him.
A few quiet moments pass, and then he admits, "She was right."
"Who?" I ask innocently, even though I already know the answer.
"Katniss," he clarifies harshly. "Before we left, she told me she didn't trust Coin. But she was worried for us, Mellark. She never thinks to watch her own back - she always wants to protect everyone else before herself! She doesn't see…. And now...Odds, now Coin just - she gave them away? To that monster? I mean...Katniss told Panem what Snow did to her. And Annie is so fragile to begin with…. What Snow did to Finnick? How could Coin think anyone would stand for it?" Gale's voice is broken and pinched with pain, as though everything he's been holding back is suddenly too much and too fervent to keep inside anymore. It's hard for me to carve out extra sympathy for him because we're all going through this - we're all scared for the people we love. Then I realize, for all his fiery hatred towards the Capitol, Gale has never personally witnessed what a corrupt leader will do for power. Katniss and I experienced it first-hand - with the Games and the Quell, the threats and the executions along our Victory Tour, the bugged houses and the double-speak that became a normal part of our lives. No matter when or how it happens, seeing the ugly underbelly of humanity is always going to change a person, and now it has changed Gale.
I just hope it's for the better.
Our arrival at the rebel encampment is marked by little fanfare and false smiles. Commanders Boggs and Paylor break off to radio Coin – informing her of our arrival – and Lyme – informing her of Haymitch's message. The rest of us settle into a routine of hurry-up and wait.
The final push to take the Capitol is coming, but no one seems to know when it will happen.
When Paylor and Boggs return, it is with disappointed murmurs of no news yet, before heading off to meetings with other commanders.
We are left to sit and count down the hours until an attack that may never come.
Three days in, and I am worried for our squad's sanity; Johanna in particular may end up court-martialed for friendly fire if she isn't let off the leash soon. She paces and snarls at anyone, only allowing Enobaria and occasionally myself to get anywhere near her. The one time a young man from an outer district came up to her to ask if she was really The Johanna Mason, she pinned him to the ground and threatened to chop his balls off with the first dull blade she could find. Gale ended up rescuing the poor kid, who I'm sure will return home with a story he'll recount around shots of white liquor with his friends until he's old and toothless – if he makes it home at all.
Paylor approaches us at a clipped pace just as the sun begins to set over the horizon on the fourth day, her grim expression setting off alarm bells in my head. "I finally have news," she informs us, her voice quiet and harsh. She signals us to gather close to keep the information within our small group. "One of our contacts in the Capitol got back to us; Katniss, Finnick, and Annie are all confirmed to be alive and in the Presidential mansion, as of an hour ago."
"Well let's go get them!" Gale snaps urgently. "We know where they are, what are we waiting for?"
"We'd never get close to them," Boggs explains, quietly joining us. "We have no plan, and by the time we got inside the mansion, they'd already be back where we can't touch them."
"No one had seen them until now," Paylor adds. "That's why we haven't heard back from any of our contacts."
"Do we know where Snow's keeping them?" Cressida interjects.
Paylor shakes her head. "They sort of just appeared, one second they were ghosts and another they were being hustled into a room full of prep teams."
"They're putting them on camera, tonight probably," Johanna bites out. "They did the same to Katniss and me last time." Enobaria reaches over and loops her arm around Jo's shoulders, running her hand up and down the length of her arm in comfort.
"How did they look?" I ask softly. I've been listening intently to everything that's been said and having proof of life fills me with a shallow relief. I need to know if Katniss is being tortured again, otherwise I may just head off to the Capitol without backup so I can see her with my own two eyes.
"They didn't say," Paylor tells me. "But if they're going to be on screen, we're close enough to the city that we'll get the broadcast live, and you can see for yourself."
Boggs points us in the direction of a large projection screen the commanders had set up to keep current with the news coming out of the Capitol. We loosely congregate around it, waiting for some scrap of insight as to what is going on with Snow and the victors he has in his grasp.
"We heard from Haymitch," Boggs informs us as we bide our time. "He's still in 13 and doesn't think Coin knows he contacted us. He sounds fine – you know, for Haymitch."
The fact that he can joke about Haymitch's grouchiness fills me with relief; it means my former mentor isn't in immediate danger. If he keeps his head down and plays at being devoted to Coin, he should be able to stay alive.
About an hour later, the Capitol emblem appears on the screen as the required viewing signal blares through the speakers. Caesar Flickerman's smiling face is greeting the audience, but the expression doesn't reach his eyes; it seems he's getting just as worn out by war as the rest of us. He winds down, transitioning to his introduction of the evening's main event.
"Tonight, we have a special message from our beloved President Snow. Let's take a look!" Caesar's image fades as the lined face of the president takes its place. Snow looks haggard and frayed; there is an unhinged quality to his expression that hasn't been there before, and I wonder if this war will take him down, one way or another.
The room he sits in is completely, blindingly white; he perches on an ivory throne, like a king. All we see is his face, and when he begins to speak, it is as though he is speaking directly to me through the screen. "Since the Dark Days, our great nation has known only peace," he says. His voice is melodic and composed – calm, even. It should be the first warning that something is amiss. Snow spoke this way when he announced the Quell; he uses this tone when he is in control, it is his tell that he's pleased with himself. He continues smoothly, "Ours is an elegant system, conceived to nourish and protect. Your districts are the body, the Capitol is the beating heart. Your hard work feeds us, and in return we feed and protect you."
The camera begins to pull back, and it is readily apparent that Snow is not alone in the white room.
Katniss.
Finnick.
Annie.
Katniss stands to his right, with her hands clasped behind her back. Finnick and Annie are on his left; they are holding hands, but I can see that Annie's fingers are pale and bloodless from how tightly Finn is grasping them. All three are wearing white, almost blending in with the wall behind them. Their hair is styled and they're wearing the thick stage makeup they always forced on us before appearing on screen. None are looking at the camera, and it frightens me; they're all avoiding eye contact, focusing on points that the audience cannot see. What has been done to them? I can see Katniss's throat bob as she swallows, and Annie shifts her weight slightly – the only proof that my friends are not simply statues adorning our enemy.
Snow smirks, his gaze never breaking with the camera, making it feel as though he is enjoying my personal reaction; he knows that the sight of these victors, who have played significant roles in this revolution, will shake up the rebels and reinvigorate the loyalists. These victors are not fighting, and they don't appear to be coerced. I know better, but will others question what they see in front of them?
"But if you resist the system, you starve yourself," Snow continues. "If you fight against it, it is you who will bleed. I know you will stand with me, with us, with all of us together, as one. Remember, if we burn, you will burn with us."
My words – those stupid fucking words. Who else will die because I spewed those words without thought, taunting a man who proves time and time again that he has a complete disregard for human life?
I wonder if this last bit was improvised on President Snow's part, because Katniss drops her gaze from the ceiling, and it connects with the camera. Her left eye twitches slightly and she opens her mouth as though she is about to say something but stops herself at the last moment. Her mouth snaps shut and her jaw clenches. She shifts her body but does not move her arms from behind her back, making me wonder if they are bound.
Finnick also takes a moment to look directly into the camera, giving the smallest shake of his head. Somehow, I know this is for me. Don't take the bait, it says.
Like hell, Finn, is what I want to scream back at him until my throat is raw.
Finally, Snow concludes, "Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever."
The broadcast ends with the emblem of the Capitol filling the screen before fading to black.
"That fucking CUNT!" Johanna screeches as she hurls her canteen at the screen. "She gave them up to Snow's slimy ass and he's hurting them! I'm going to –"
"You're going to stand down Soldier Mason," Boggs cuts in sharply.
"Oh like hell! I swear, when I get my hands on an axe, she's going to find out why I was a victor. That cowardly underground BITCH!" she screams, trying to get in his face. Enobaria loops her arms around her waist from behind, pulling Jo tight against her body. She whispers something in her ear that manages to take the edge off her anger and Jo deflates just enough that Enobaria doesn't have to struggle too much to hold her back.
Boggs steps in and looms over Jo; he looks intimidating, his face stern and his eyes hard. But when he speaks, it is calm and imploring. "Stand down Johanna. It hurts me to see them like that too. I swear to you, we will get them back. But if you go after Coin now – even just verbally - we will never get close enough to the City Center to do anything that will be any help. Do you understand?"
She exhales shakily and nods.
"Good," he states and takes one large step back from her and Enobaria. "What else did we see in the broadcast? Hmmm?" he asks, looking around at the rest of our squad.
"They're alive," Gale murmurs. He looks like he's in shock over the footage we just saw.
"No shit, cousin dearest," Johanna snaps at him. Evidently, she's still wound up enough to pick a fight with her favorite target from District 12.
Gale narrows his eyes and looks as though he's about to snarl back at her when Enobaria steps in. "They were alive," she corrects. "We don't know if that was live, or what Snow will do with them now. That wasn't a room I recognized," she adds, looking to me for confirmation. I shake my head, not knowing where the propo was filmed. "We don't even know if that was filmed in the mansion, and we don't know where they're being kept," she sums up.
"A set that big could have been constructed on a stage," I say. "Caesar Flickerman's?"
"Could be," Cressida replies, but doesn't sound convinced. She taps her fingers against her chin in thought.
"How far away is that from the Presidential palace?" Gale asks.
"About a mile," I muse. Both Jo and Enobaria agree.
"That's too far away then," Gale counters. "The rebel troops are advancing on a daily basis; Snow would want to keep them close; he wouldn't want to risk losing his bargaining chips."
"Gale's right," I agree. He looks at me with tentative suspicion. "Don't look so surprised," I mutter to him. Honestly.
"Let's assume Snow is keeping them in one location to avoid the messiness of moving them – that would place them in the palace then. It's easier to control three able-bodied adults if they're moving them as little as possible. They're probably being held somewhere underground, so their access to windows is restricted," Paylor summarizes. She's right; if any of them had the opportunity, there isn't a doubt in my mind that they would try to escape. The idea of Katniss stuck underground again, back in a cage in the Capitol, and unable to get away or even call out for help to a sympathetic ear, constricts something deep in my chest. I can picture her pain and her panic, I can imagine her hopelessness and her fear, and all I am able to do is will her to just hold on a little bit longer.
"What's Snow's endgame here?" I ask. "Coin got her rebel soldiers back, but Snow has to know he doesn't have a strong chance of winning this war. What is he planning?"
Everyone is silent for a few moments as they attempt to think through a sociopathic president's motives.
"It's like Gale said," Johanna murmurs as she shrugs out of Enobaria's grip and wraps her own arms tightly around her waist. "They're bargaining chips. What does Snow value more than anything? His life. If the rebels take the Capitol, he can trade his life for theirs – maybe even escape. If the rebels lose…well, then he has three treasonous symbols of the Revolution he can publicly execute."
We're all silent as Jo's words sink in. She's right. It's the only way Snow can keep the upper hand. Fuck.
I implore Boggs, "We have to be with the squadron that takes the mansion! If we're not, there's a strong chance whoever encounters Snow is going to prioritize taking him over saving Katniss."
"We don't have a mission plan yet, Soldier Mellark," he replies. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and he keeps his gaze firmly on the ground. He wants to give me a different answer, but he can't.
"But –" I try to argue.
"We'll meet with the other squad leaders," Paylor cuts in. "I'll push for us to be in the first wave heading into the city," she affirms. She and Boggs turn to leave, effectively cutting off my appeals and ending the conversation. They head back to the commanders' tent to confer with the others.
I stomp back towards my own tent, a sound like a growl emanating from my throat as I make my way through the groups of people who are gathered around. Once I get there, I slap aside the fabric serving as a door and kneel on my bedroll. My belongings are already laid out in the order I need to load them into my backpack, making the process efficient in case we need to move out quickly. I check over the items, making sure it will only take me a few moments to load up and head out when the time comes.
Since the moment I saw Katniss's face up on the screen, I have been seized with the all-consuming need to get to her. She's being threatened, that much is obvious. Likely she's being hurt as well; Snow would never pass up the opportunity to make her suffer. After Johanna's assessment of Snow's motives, I'm even more sure of what I need to do. If my squad is not going to do anything about what we saw tonight, I'll head out on my own. It will be easier to sneak into the city by myself - I can think on my feet, I'll do what needs to be done and I will find a way into the mansion. I just can't take the chance of waiting, that Katniss could die because Coin wants Snow to pay for his crimes publicly; I can see it happening so easily – a soldier from 13 refusing Snow's offer of the Mockingjay in exchange for his escape and Snow ordering a Peacekeeper to dispose of Katniss instead. I can't let that happen.
I'm loading my gun and making sure my armor is fitted correctly when a cough at the entrance of my tent startles me.
"Going somewhere?" Gale inquires, his voice curious.
"Nope," I reply. I don't offer him anything more than that.
"If you were…," he tries again.
"But I'm not," I counter.
"Mmmm," he hums noncommittally. "But if you were, you could really use someone to watch your back."
I whip my head up to look at him, and he's examining his cuticles the way Jo does. I quirk a smile at this borrowed behavior, but keep quiet because I doubt he'd appreciate my pointing it out to him. "Are you offering yourself up for the job?" I ask.
"Perhaps," he allows.
"You could be court-martialed, Gale," I warn him. While what he says is true - having someone else there would be valuable, especially someone as well-versed in hunting as Gale, I don't want him to make the decision lightly. "If Snow catches us, he won't hesitate to have us killed, and it likely wouldn't be pleasant."
He waves off my concerns and assures me, "I'm aware of all that, Mellark. I don't like waiting though, and I can't imagine Katniss and the others will only fare better the more time they spend with Snow."
I nod, and tell him, "Alright. I'm leaving after midnight; you're welcome to come along."
He slips away from my tent without giving me an answer, but I know he'll be there.
I'll meet you at midnight, her voice whispers in my ear. A breeze brushes past my lips, and I can almost believe it's her as she kisses me goodbye, just like she did after murmuring those words to me once before. I reach up, running my fingers along my lips, hoping to feel her breath left behind. But my lips are not chapped with thirst and my skin is not clammy from the humidity of the jungle; I am chilled and alone, sleeping in my tent in the mountains outside the Capitol.
I am alone, because I have managed to lose Katniss once again.
The memory of her words has awakened me, and just in time it seems - I have thirty minutes until it's time for me to head off into the Capitol; whether it will be on my own or with Gale has yet to be seen.
I pack up my belongings but opt to leave my heavier supplies behind. It won't take more than a couple of hours to make my way into the city, and a tent will only slow me down. I make sure my boots are double-knotted before leaving my tent as quietly as possible. I need to fill my canteen, grab some food, and see if Gale is planning on joining me.
I enter the mess tent and am surprised to see a familiar group gathered around one table. Boggs, Paylor, Jo, Enobaria, Gale, and Cressida and her whole crew all sit, hunched around a nondescript black box.
"Nice of you to join us!" Boggs chides, gesturing for me to join them.
I slide in next to Gale and lean over to mumble, "What's this about?"
He shakes his head, letting me know he hasn't been clued in either. I have a feeling our window for leaving is closing quickly, but it would be impossible for me to slip away unnoticed now.
"We have a plan," Paylor tells us, her voice quiet and urgent. "This is volunteer-only, anyone can walk away now, no questions asked." When no one speaks, she nods and continues to explain. "One of our sources is extremely high up in Snow's staff; they had some trouble getting away to pass us this information, but they were able to confirm our suspicion that Katniss, Finnick, and Annie are being held in the Presidential mansion. We have a basic layout of the wing where they're imprisoned, and a general idea which levels they are being moved between."
"The source also gave us intel on an unmapped entrance to the mansion. We have updated it here," Boggs adds as he presses a button on the black box in the middle of the table. A complete map of the Capitol made entirely of green light forms above it. Boggs points to the place where we will enter this secret pathway into the mansion, located under a manhole behind a flower shop about a half mile from the City Center. He presses a second button and hundreds of red lights appear on the map. "That's the easy part. These," he motions to the red lights, "Are pods. They are designed by Gamemakers to release weapons that will either kill or trap whoever sets them off. They can be anything – bombs, bullets, mutts, nets – any horrible thing you can imagine. These are the ones we know about, and there is a strong chance more have been added since Heavensbee smuggled this holo out of the Capitol. This is why the mission is volunteer-only."
I feel a chill go through me. This all sounds very familiar.
"You have an hour," Boggs finishes up. "Pack your bags, report back here if you want to go. If you do not, this is where we part ways." With a smirk he adds, "Also, we're technically going against orders, so each of us could be charged with treason."
Boggs and Paylor move away from the table, conferring with Cressida and her team about the mission. Johanna, Enobaria, Gale, and I remain, taking in the multicolored lights of the holo that represent the gargantuan task that is laid out before us.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Johanna grumbles. "Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games."
"What do you think?" Gale asks me after Johanna and Enobaria have departed to pack up their shared tent. "I'm going to go ahead and guess we're not getting anywhere on our own."
I let a haggard sigh work its way out of my chest and rub a hand roughly across my face, hoping to clear some of the weariness that has settled over me like a blanket. "No, we need that holo if we have any chance of getting through the Capitol unscathed. I think we'll fare better with a group than on our own."
He nods, seeming to mull over the possible outcomes we could face in either situation. "You're probably right," he finally agrees. "Besides, we're less likely to kill each other with the others around."
I think he's speaking in jest, but since I've never seen Gale do so, I can't be sure of his brand of humor. Katniss is rather dry and deadpan when she teases, and her similarity to him is all I really have to go on. Instead of taking the risk of offending him by joking back, I tell him, "I have no quarrel with you Gale."
He narrows his eyes at me and nods once more before heading off, presumably to clear out his own campsite. As he walks away, he tosses over his shoulder, "That's because you got the girl, Mellark."
At the end of the hour, we meet around the back of the mess tent. The only ones missing are two of Cressida's team, who she explains will be staying behind to cover for us and continue filming the invasion with the main detachment of rebel soldiers. Cressida and Pollux will go with us because we need this to be recorded, she advises me. Panem needs to know. While I can acknowledge on some level that she's correct, I can't help but worry that we'll be responsible for putting two more lives at risk with this mission.
Boggs leads us around the fringes of the encampment, all of us aware of the need for silence and discretion. Admittedly, I'm the one with the loudest tread, so the best I can do is hope to be overlooked by anyone who happens to catch sight of me. We make it to the train tracks that lead into the city without incident, and everyone noticeably relaxes once we make it across the bridge that gives us the first view of the Capitol. I remember the first time I saw this place, racing towards my death as a tribute. I was impressed by its remarkable size and gleaming buildings – so different from the humble coal-stained district I hailed from. Returning now, I'm met with the smoldering ruins of the outer blocks that reflect the rightful dark nature of this place; there is no more polished beauty to hide behind.
We pass by the first homes and businesses at the edge of the Capitol, abandoned hastily in the chaos of the earliest rebel advancements. This area has been secured by our forces for at least a day, but we stay alert to the possibility that Peacekeepers or loyalists may remain in hiding, waiting to take us out. We all pick our way carefully through debris and devastation, aware of the possible presence of unmarked pods that could take us out at any moment. We can see the remains of pods that were previously set off – a swarm of dead tracker jackers, black tar that has hardened along the sidewalks, a stone wall pierced by a hail of bullets from a mounted machine gun; each one reinforcing our fear that dangers are lurking around every corner.
Boggs wields the holo in front of him like a shield, and while I'm thankful for the guidance, I'm tempted to warn him that nothing will truly protect us if Snow wants us dead.
"You've been where we're headed?" Gale asks me as he kicks aside a piece of bright pink glass.
"Nope," I answer, shaking my head. "They usually brought us straight into the City Center," I explain.
"Less chance of wandering off without supervision," Enobaria comments.
"I broke away from my security detail once," Johanna airily tells us. She's twirling a knife around her fingers, but somehow manages to keep a tight hold on her gun in the other. "It was at the end of my Victory Tour."
"Where did you go?" Gale queries. His tone isn't as sharp as it used to be when he speaks to Johanna now. I won't go so far as to say he may like her, but perhaps he doesn't hate her as much as used to, before we were all sent off to 2 together.
"My original intention was to go to one of those live sex shows they have here," she replies nonchalantly.
I swear, the look on Gale's face the second before he chokes so hard on his own spit that he has to double-over to recover, will stay with me for the rest of my life. I can't hold back my snort of laughter, and Enobaria's deep chuckle joins my own to let him know he's been had.
The self-satisfied smirk on Johanna's face is priceless, and even Gale is forced to crack a smile. And just for a moment, I am able to let go of the constant fear and overwhelming dread that I have been consumed with for over a year, since the announcement of the Quarter Quell. I pretend that I am just a normal man, on my way to meet up with my girlfriend and joking with my friends.
"But really, where did you go?" Gale tries again, fighting through his laughter.
Johanna sighs, and looks up to the gray dawn sky above us. "I just wanted to be forgotten, just for a moment," she responds wistfully.
Gale's mirth fades away quickly and he clears his throat, as though trying to erase the feeling entirely. I'm sure he's thinking of Katniss at this moment; we've both heard her lament over the fact that her life will never go back to the way it was before the Games. No victor is ever left alone to be forgotten, and as the Mockingjay, Katniss will live in infamy forever - no matter how much she doesn't want it to be that way.
We're quiet for a while, reflective and sober in our own thoughts. The sun breaks over the horizon and reflects off the technicolor storefronts that line the empty streets. This place could have been beautiful once, I think, but now I feel helpless to fix it - as though it needs to be purged before the city can be something to be proud of once again.
"Cameras!" Cressida calls out.
We all freeze, and she motions up ahead to a street corner with turquoise brickwork. Pollux speaks with his hands and Cressida's eyebrows crinkle in concentration as she focuses on what he's telling her. I'm still learning, she explained dismissively when it had taken her a while to translate something to Boggs earlier and Jo had given her shit for it.
"They're on motion sensors," she passes along to the rest of us. "Still functioning."
"We're still a mile out," Boggs informs us. "If Snow catches on that we're separate from the other squadrons, I doubt he'll hesitate to set off the pods around us."
"So what do we do?" Enobaria asks. She shifts back and forth on her feet, trying to work out her restless energy. She wants to be moving forward - towards something - not sitting still anymore; I recognize this feeling in her, because I'm suffering from it as well. We're so close, there's no way we can stop advancing now.
Pollux signs something that doesn't need to be translated - We go down.
The tunnels under the Capitol vary significantly, both from one another and from the colorful world above. The tan stone passageways are brightly lit in some areas and dim and shadowy in others. We pass through tunnels that are wide enough for us to walk four abreast and shafts so cramped we're forced to shuffle through one by one, bent over at the waist.
We quickly learn that the holo will do us no good while we're underground; but my resulting panic is short-lived when I learn that Pollux spent his first five years as an Avox down in this maze under the Capitol. You just became our most valuable asset, I tell him, and he smiles in bashful gratitude.
He leads us down down down - deep into the abyss. The quiet is unsettling, playing tricks on our hearing and setting our nerves on edge. It feels like we've been walking for hours, and without any daylight to indicate otherwise, it's certainly possible that it has been that long.
Pollux informs us that we're more than halfway to the junction that will connect us to our original target - the unmarked tunnel that will lead us directly to Snow's mansion. Though he's never seen this secret entrance himself, he knows the manhole behind the flower shop, as well as the area of the underground that leads to it. That's an area we quickly learned not to ask questions about, he informs us through Cressida.
My heart hurts for this gentle man and all the horrors he's been put through. His quiet strength is inspiring, reminding me so strongly of Katniss that it steals the breath from my lungs. She would like him, I think to myself, and wonder if Pollux would bring out her protective streak. Contrary to what she believes about herself, Katniss is the most caring person I know. I attempt to push away the smothering pressure in my chest caused by thoughts of her. Now is the time to focus on what's in front of me, otherwise I'm almost certainly guaranteed to never see her again; carelessness can easily be the end of any of us down here.
We find a small platform that allows us to spread out comfortably, and decide it is a good place to rest and recharge for a few minutes. Enobaria and Jo sit close to one another, whispering with their heads almost touching. Gale crouches close to Boggs and Paylor, listening to them as they discuss locations and pods over the holo's glowing map, while Cressida reviews footage on her hand-held camera.
I take a seat on the edge of the platform next to Pollux, and revel in the absence of pressure on my leg from my prosthetic. I must make some noise of relief, because he shoots me a knowing grin and points to my leg. I nod and explain, "It's much better than it used to be. After the Games, it took me a long time to get used to it. I'd trip a lot; I think it made Katniss underestimate my stunning athletic prowess. It should be obvious from watching both of our Games that between the two of us I'm the real warrior." I wink, hoping he picks up on my joke. No one in their right mind would believe I was fiercer than Katniss Everdeen.
He laughs silently, and signs something that I don't initially understand. He grimaces, and then pantomimes flexing his muscles while pointing at me and then at the mockingjay pin he wears on this black uniform. I realize what he's telling me: You both are strong.
I bring one hand to rest on my heart and reply, "Thank you." And then, "It comes so naturally to her…. For me, I just know I need to be steady for her."
He nods and taps two fingers on his pin once again before touching them to my chest as well, affirming his previous words. Do not doubt it, his eyes say. I smile in thanks and turn back to the rations I hastily tossed in my bag last night.
Suddenly, I hear something odd coming from the hushed murky tunnels. It almost sounds like the harsh noise steam makes when it's leaking from an overloaded pipe.
Hhhhhiiiisssssssssss...Hhhhhiiiissssssss...Hhhhiiiisssssss
Each time is louder and... closer.
Peeeeetttttaaaaa
My head snaps up to meet Pollux's confused gaze. He hears it too.
Peeeeeeeeeeeettttttttaaaaaaaaa
Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetttttttttttttttaaaaaaaaaaaaa
They know we're here.
And they've sent out mutts.
"Get up!" I holler, not bothering to hold back my panic. "Mutts! Move now!" There isn't anywhere to hide here, and very few places we can make a stand against whatever nightmare Snow has unleashed on us.
Everyone scrambles to their feet, shoving their arms through the straps of their backpacks as they run. Pollux resumes his place at the front of our group as we run in the opposite direction of where the hissing is coming from. The sounds follow us, and every few steps I chance a look over my shoulder into the gloom, but nothing emerges. Except...I can't take the risk that my eyes are simply playing tricks on me, because I think I detect movement trailing us in the shadows.
Peeeeetttttaaaaa
They're definitely gaining on us.
Peeeeeeeetttttttttaaaaaaa…..Kaaaatttttnnniiiiissssss deaddddddddd Peeeeeeetttttaaaaaa
I stop suddenly in shock at the words I'm hearing and have to be jostled along by Gale who almost knocks me to the ground. He pushes at my shoulder roughly to get me to move and barks, "Keep going!"
"Did you -?" I try to ask, my voice breaking in agonized horror.
"Of course I fucking heard it - I'm not deaf, Mellark!" he snaps at me as he continues to shove at my back. "Keep fucking going or we're going to be dead too!"
I pick up the pace, limping quickly along behind Cressida.
"It's a lie, Peeta!" Enobaria huffs out from the rear of the group. "One of Snow's mind games!"
She's right, I know she's right. Odds, I hope she's right.
"Almost there!" Cressida calls out from up ahead, and we all push ourselves to jog faster.
We cross the threshold into a circular multi-storied room full of unmarked doors. Pollux points up to one nondescript door, signaling that this is the one that will lead us to the mansion. We'll have to climb up three ladders to reach it, each separated by a narrow metal platform.
The hissing is more resounding - they're getting closer.
"Move!" Boggs bellows, rousing us into action. He stations himself at the bottom of the first ladder, directing each person to go upwards as soon as there's enough room.
Pollux and Cressida climb the rungs quickly, followed closely by Paylor. As soon as they reach the first platform, Jo ascends the ladder with Gale hastily following suit. Enobaria signals for me to go next, but as soon as I place my foot on the first rung, everything descends into chaos.
At first, it's only one. I'm expecting a muttation like the monkeys or the dogs from the Games, but this is nothing like those.
This is a monster.
It stands tall - the height of a grown man - but it isn't truly human. It's hunched over, as though it can't decide whether to move on two feet or four. It's covered in scales that are a dingy white - the color of sickly skin that has never seen the sun. It has no eyes or nose but displays a mouth full of razor sharp teeth as it tastes the air around it with a forked tongue.
It must catch our scent because the mutt whips its head towards us and lets out an inhuman shriek of bloodthirsty excitement. I step down and bring my gun around to my front, pointing it past Boggs. "Get down!" I yell at him.
He throws himself down and forward, out of my line of sight as I take the shot. Enobaria stands at my side with her gun trained on the creature as well. The mutt falls, and I'm filled with relief for one brief moment; but then more of the creatures pour into the room, trampling the body of the one that fell before it until nothing is left but bloody pulp.
Without flinching, Enobaria opens fire on the mutts; she takes down waves of them, thinning out the herd as they spill into the chamber. The ones that somehow make it past her are shot by Boggs, who roars at me to get up the fucking ladder!
I get about halfway up when something grabs me from behind and I lose my grip on the bars, tumbling to the ground below. I can hear people screaming my name but no one's voice is clear to me; the foggy calls of Peeta! and Mellark! fade into the deafening sounds of chaos around me. I wheeze when the air is knocked out of my lungs but swiftly roll to the side to get my feet back under me. One of the mutts is only a foot away from me, its hot rank breath hitting my face every time it gasps in frustrated rage. My stomach heaves and I cough, working hard to breathe normally despite the impulse to hold my breath. I undo my knife from my belt and get my hands up; hand-to-hand combat was where I always excelled, both during the Games and back in 12 - I can only hope this mutt will fight the same way a human would.
It reaches out with long fingers capped in talons, getting more and more aggravated when it cannot penetrate my body armor. I skitter back a few paces to put distance between us and it lunges for me, hooking one of its hands around my prosthetic. The mutt pulls hard, yanking me to the ground; but when it looms over me, I'm able to stab it once in the chest. It howls in rage, sending goosebumps of pure terror all down my body. I move back enough to avoid getting my head ripped off, but I end up catching a razor sharp claw in the side of my neck. I feel the skin tear open like wet paper and my warm blood begins to pour out. The mutt's forked tongue shoots out, as though it can taste my blood in the air between us, and while it's distracted, I heave myself up to standing. We're both panting as we face each other, and I understand that this is it - this is the moment when I will either live or die at Snow's hands. So I aim low and run full-tilt at the mutt, catching it just below the waist, and flip it over my shoulder. I pivot my feet as I spin around and bring my knife down into the mutt's skull. It doesn't make a sound as the tension leaves its body and foul black blood seeps out onto the floor around it.
"Holy shit Blondie!" Jo shrieks from somewhere above me.
It's only then that I realize it's quiet again; the gunshots and the shouting have all stopped. I look around and see the entrance way filled with grey-white bodies and Enobaria replacing the clip on her gun. Boggs hustles over and pulls me to my feet by my armor, moving me roughly so he can get a good look at the wound on my neck.
"You'll need stitches," he tells me. I try to nod in acknowledgement, but the pain is suddenly blinding as my adrenaline wears off. "Go on," he gestures for me to climb up the ladder.
I do it this time without incident, collapsing on top of Johanna as she pulls me up to the platform.
"Well now, Blondie. Where have you been hiding that this whole time?" she teases as she digs her fingers into my hair so she can get a good look at my neck. Somehow, I know this is Johanna-speak for I'm really glad you're not dead, and that this is all I will be getting from her.
I groan, both in exhaustion and in pain, but manage to answer her. "If you had been paying attention Jo, I did practice wrestling during training in 13."
She waves me off with an unaffected air, evidently satisfied with checking over my injuries. "I was too busy checking out Bar Bar's ass," she answers distractedly. "Speaking of…" she trails off as Enobaria makes her way up the ladder next to us. "Hello my lover!" Johanna greets her cheerfully. "You looked super-hot when you were shooting all those mutts."
Enobaria scoffs and reaches over to plant a quick kiss on Johanna's lips with a small smirk. "Thanks for all your help, by the way," Enobaria grouses at her.
Johanna releases a dramatic moan, and yells indignantly, "I tried! He wouldn't let me!" She points at Gale, who I now realize is nursing a bloody nose.
"I was trying to keep you from getting killed!" he grumbles. He shoots a look over at me, "Good job not dying, Mellark."
I attempt to chuckle, but wince at the intense pain and bring my fingers up to prod at my tender neck. "Stitches?" I inquire hopefully. Someone has got to have a medic kit in their bag.
"Keep moving," Boggs interjects as his head clears the platform. "I wouldn't put it past Snow to send something else after us, and if it makes no difference to you, I'd like to have at least one steel door between me and the next shitstorm."
He's right, of course. We continue moving up the ladders and platforms, each of us tossing surreptitious glances at the mess below us. Finally, we reach the door Pollux had indicated, and Boggs checks it against the map on the holo - it's the right one.
One step closer.
The air in this unmarked tunnel is different - lighter almost. I don't want to stop once we secure the door to the sewers behind us, because for the first time in hours I feel like we're actually getting closer to Katniss, Finnick, and Annie. But eventually the blood loss starts to catch up with me, and Jo tries to dead-leg my prosthetic to get me to sit and rest. Cressida cleans my wound and uses Pollux's fingers to hold the jagged pieces of my skin together while she sews the gaping cut closed. Paylor plies me with water and forces me to eat a ration of food. When I argue that we're wasting time, she counters that if you want to do Katniss and the others any good, you need to not fall on your ass the second you try to lift your gun.
Duly noted, Commander Paylor.
After 30 minutes of resting and eating and drinking, I can't stand it anymore. I push to my feet and shake off the initial dizziness that tries to drag me down.
This tunnel is free from pods, as it serves as a possible escape route for the president, so we're able to move along at a steady pace. My adrenaline is picking back up, wiping away any trace of fatigue or pain that was beginning to encroach on me during my rest. I need to know if Snow was playing mind games with the things those muttations were saying - Katniss dead, Katniss dead, Katniss dead Peeta repeats over and over in my head with each step I take. If she's dead, I don't know that I'll ever make it home; I'll stay here, under the Capitol, trying to find my way back to her for whatever is left of my life.
The tunnel steadily becomes steeper, and eventually we come to stop at a small staircase that ends just under a door in the ceiling. Boggs and Gale get underneath it, and using their combined weight to push against it they manage to shove it open. Paylor and Enobaria cover them, making sure we're not about to be showered with mutts or bullets or Peacekeepers, but step back when nothing appears. The doorway leads to the open sky - I take in the fresh air and living things with such a sense of relief, because until this moment I didn't know I was afraid of being trapped forever in this underground tomb.
Boggs pulls himself up through the opening, rolling out of sight for a moment. He looks back down at us and advises, "Looks like we're in some gardens, there's a greenhouse about a hundred yards away. No outside lights, no guards."
I think for a moment and tell him, "The greenhouse puts us on the west side of the mansion, right?" I look to Jo and Enobaria to confirm this bit of information I remember from the party at the end of my Victory Tour. They both nod in agreement.
We each take turns climbing out of the hole in the ground, discovering that the opening we have emerged from is camouflaged to look like a flower bed. It's night once again, the only light is coming from the brightly lit hallways of the Presidential Mansion. The shadows will help to hide us as we move about the grounds. Everyone takes a moment to check their weapons before Boggs gives us the signal to move out.
Just as we begin to move along the edges of the gardens, I hear a high-pitched howl that suddenly takes me back to the bombing in District 8. I don't have time to ask questions or take cover, because I'm abruptly knocked to the ground with surprising force.
When I lift my head up to look around, we're all sprawled haphazardly around the grass. Johanna looks startled - a rare expression of her candid emotions. "What the fuck was that?" she spits out incredulously.
"Bombs," Paylor replies simply, her face haunted. Her district suffered greatly in just the few hours I was there with her; I can't imagine the totality of the destruction she witnessed day in and day out throughout the war. "Ours?" she asks Boggs as he helps her up.
"Ours," he agrees. He turns on his comm device for the first time since we left the encampment outside of the city; We don't need to hear what they have to say to us, was his response when Gale inquired about why it was switched off. I guess it doesn't matter now; it appears we're in the midst of the final battle for the Capitol.
Holy shit - the final battle for the Capitol. This is it…. After tonight, it's going to be a different world.
Boggs listens in silence for a few endless minutes, absorbing intel from the rebel front. He snaps his head up and whispers harshly, "Everyone down, we're getting more!"
We all drop back to the ground and try to make ourselves as small as possible. Seconds later, a series of explosions tears through the city. We can see the blinding lights and I can feel the heat from every impact even from so far away. I hear screams and see flames climbing towards the sky as buildings and citizens are consumed. I know this is no different than what the people of my own district went through, and it breaks my heart to think of them now - to think of my parents and my brothers hearing the bombs and feeling the fire as they crept closer and closer until…nothing. I look over at Gale, expecting him to be reveling in the vengeance against the people of the Capitol, but his eyes are screwed shut and his jaw is clenched. I may have to imagine what happened in District 12, but he remembers it. We're all human, it turns out.
After a few minutes of unending bombardment, we're blessed with silence. "The rebels are about to breach the mansion," Boggs murmurs. "Time to go."
We all rise to stand and once again prepare to advance. There are sounds of wails and gunshots coming from inside the mansion, and I try to have faith that we'll be able to locate Katniss and the others in this pandemonium. We round several structures in the garden, weaving a disjointed path towards the towering walls of the imposing manor ahead. I'm sure there are side entrances that we can breach, we'll just have to figure out an entrance point as we make our way around the perimeter -
My train of thought is cut off by someone's noisy retreat through a door painted to blend in with the stonework of the walls. Boggs signals for us to trail behind, and we silently change direction, moving carefully so as to not alert this person to our presence before we're ready. We need to take them quietly, cutting off the possibility of their raising an alarm; this person could know where the victors are being kept -
But then the lights catch the person's hair, and I know their identity beyond the shadow of a doubt.
It's Snow.
A/N: The propo described in this chapter is based off the promotional video clip entitled "President Snow's Panem Address #1" that was released before the Mockingjay films.
I know I say it at the end of every chapter, but the kind words that you wonderful people leave for me in reviews and comments are so touching that I'm constantly humbled. Thank you so much for showing me and this story such an outpouring of love and support.
