Chapter 42: You Burn With Us & Dead By Morning
It is actually to my relief – and probably best for everyone involved – that President Coin declares Katniss fit to serve on the battlefield not long after the whole Belle-Proximo affair comes out. The Mockingjay and her team – which includes me, Plutarch, Cressida, and Pollux – are to be sent to District 8, where some of the fiercest fighting is still occurring. Commander Paylor and Victor Cecelia Rheys are to accompany us and act as special envoys to the textile district.
Although I have never exactly liked my fellow Victor from Eight, I cannot help but feel sympathetic towards Cecelia, who clearly does not want to go. The pain of wandering through her decimated ancestral homeland, the place where her husband and three babies died, will surely be great. Plus, she seems reluctant to leave behind Brutus, locked in his jail cell. In one of the few conversations I have with her before the trip, she expresses to me that she fears Coin might do something to her lover and fellow Victor while she is away. Immediately, Cecelia tries to brush it off as paranoia; I decide to let my silence speak for itself, as I am beginning to suspect that such thoughts of double-crossing are not entirely unfounded, where the President of Thirteen is concerned.
We are now in the hovercraft speeding across the no-man's land. District 8 has always been furthest to the southeast, well beyond District 12, so we won't get to the urban district until close to evening. Our flight path is such that we won't ever have to enter Capitol airspace, but about four hours into the journey (takeoff was just after first light), we can actually look out the windows and see the city's skyscrapers in the distance. I press my hand against the glass longingly. So close, and yet so far…. is it possible that my son can see our jet streams from a distance, wherever he is holed up? I feel a palpable urge to burst into the cockpit, hijack the aircraft and turn it around to risk a rescue mission, damn the consequences!
Turning away, I spot Katniss also peering at the distant high-rises with an equally strong longing, also mixed with a burning hatred. She turns away sadly, sighing as she rests her head between her knees. She has been very quiet and sullen since she caught her mother wrapped in the arms of a man who isn't her father. I know the reality of her mother seeing someone else is scary and new, but Belle has been a widow for going on seven years now. There was a time where I thought she would never be able to find love again, after Glen; that she has, albeit in the strangest of circumstances (war is a rather bizarre place to discover and make new love), leaves me thrilled. To the best of my knowledge, Katniss hasn't spoken to Belle at all in the last few days since The Incident. I had considered taking Belle aside and urging her to sit both the girls down and discuss her new relationship, but decided it was better if I stayed out of it. Maybe the situation will resolve itself organically. Though I still think Belley should talk to Katniss and Prim, and probably even go so far as to say that if her being with Proximo makes them uncomfortable, she should break it off.
I don't tell this to Katniss, of course; she might interpret my counsel as permission for her to be selfish and forbid her mother from being happy with the new man in her life. My goddaughter has certainly adopted some emotional… malpractice in the wake of arriving in Thirteen. And while missing Peeta might be an overarching excuse, it is not the only one – for her becoming so moody, quick to temper. Selfish, even, in some respects. And the anger – Plutarch has noticed her mood swings too, and seems encouraged that the anger could at least be channeled into something productive, for the cause. Always the cause, with him! Not everything is so complex, and not everything can be used. Katniss's emotional tempest may be as simple as a teenage girl dumped into the confusing tornado of love – whether it's her own or someone else's - and all that comes with it… and her clear inability to deal with any of it.
Physically removed from at least the one situation as she is, though, maybe now would be the time to feel out her opinions on her mother dating again. I decide to start small, and see where it leads me.
"Did you say goodbye to your mom?"
Katniss grunts something unintelligible in response. She lifts her head to meet my eyes, the stormy grey in them hopeful that I will drop it, but I just stare back stoically. Defeated, Katniss finally mumbles a clear, "Yes."
"Good for you," I throw out there, my tone making it very clear that I didn't think she would have actually done something so cordial. I get the reaction I want.
"You think I wouldn't have? We are going into a war zone, after all! I might never see her again!"
"Very true, but don't change the subject," I lecture.
"Maybe it's better if I don't come back," Katniss bemoans melodramatically. "She has her new little squeeze toy, after all, and Prim! I thought the same thing before the Games, you know – she could get on without me…."
"OK, stop: First of all, your mother would be devastated if anything happened to you, so cut out the dramatics. Second of all, his name is Proximo, so at least show him the respect of referring to him by his proper name."
Katniss folds her arms and scowls petulantly, her nose turning up as she sniffs, "I don't have to respect him. I already have a father, thank you, and he was a damn finer man than…"
"Proximo doesn't want to replace Glen!" My voice rises a little. Around us in the belly of the hovercraft, I note how Pollux and the others are awkwardly trying to look in any direction but ours. Cressida starts fiddling with her set of microphones. I soften my volume a little, but the earnestness remains. "He cares about your mother very much, and he understands that she and your family have had…. a complicated history. He wants to get to know you, and Prim. He and Prim have been working together for months; she quite likes him…."
Katniss snorts. "I bet she played matchmaker with them, didn't she?" she sneers.
"Um, Prim walked in on them same as us, and it looked to me like she was quite shocked…"
"Prim played matchmaker with me and Peeta."
With that, she lays her own trap, and I spring it.
"Now, Katniss Magenta – you're not being fair!" I scold harshly. "To your mom or to Prim! You and Peeta did just fine falling in love on your own, even if your sister did give you a little push. How would you have felt if your mother tried to butt into your relationship with Peeta? How would you have felt if she didn't approve?"
I am heartened to see that my goddaughter has grown quiet.
"But your love life and that of your mom's are not at all comparable. First of all, she's had lovers before Proximo – she was married and had children by your dad, for Panem's sake! Peeta was your very first kiss, if I remember correctly…."
"Hang on:" Katniss seizes on something. "You just said lovers. As in, plural." She bites her lip, wringing her hands. "Did…. was my mom with anyone, before my dad?"
I nod. "Up until we were a little younger than you, your mom was in a pretty serious relationship with my husband."
Katniss's eyes grow huge, her mouth falling open. "Uncle Dannel? ….. Ew! Gross!"
I can't help it – I laugh. "I know it sounds a little funny, huh? Strange as it may seem, your mom and Peeta's dad were together for two years. We all thought they were going to get married."
"What happened?" Katniss wants to know.
I smile guiltily. "I suppose it's somewhat my fault. It started when your uncle gave me a Reaping Kiss the morning I was selected for the Games, for good luck. Your mom wasn't bothered by it, but then…. I was Reaped. Then I won and came home. While I was in the arena, your mom met your dad when they were watching me compete. They grew closer at school – I wasn't privy to much of this, of course, as by that time, I'd dropped out. Danny noticed how friendly your parents had become and was a little jealous. Then, your mom heard your dad sing at my sister's wedding reception." I smile softly. "I think she fell in love instantly. By the time I came home from my Victory Tour, she and Danny had broken up, and she was with your dad."
"… And then you and Uncle Danny fell in love," Katniss finishes.
I chuckle fondly. "We did. It was a little sudden, but also exciting. We were married the following summer."
Several beats pass as Katniss thinks on all of this. Softly, I take her hand. "Your mom wouldn't fall in love with just anyone, Katniss," I murmur. "She's usually chosen the best of the best men. I know – I was fortunate to marry one of them!" We both giggle. "I've known Proximo for years. He's a lovely person. I seem to recall you took a shining to him too, when you were training for the Games."
Katniss nods. "That was before…" she shook her head. "All right. If we get back from Eight in one piece, I'll… I'll give him a try. Talk to him."
I beam. "That's my girl."
Boggs steps from the cockpit just then, where he has been conferring with the pilot. "Captain Newsom says District 8 is on final approach. We'll soon begin our descent."
We dip below the clouds and swoop in towards an urban landscape. Right away, we can tell that many buildings have been bombed out. Over the hovercraft's intercom, Captain Newsom assures us that Capitol bombers have been driven from District 8 airspace thanks to a ground-to-air missile assault over the last few days; he has no concerns that we might be shot out of the sky. Joining us at the windows, Cecelia and Commander Paylor give us an aerial tour of District 8, and in Paylor's case, a rough report of the state on the ground. The rebels here have maintained a hold over the textile mills, and a recent defection of a good chunk of the district's Peacekeeping forces the week prior has been a boon; there are hopes that we will soon be able to take the Justice Building, where the Mayor and many in his administration have barricaded themselves inside. While it would be a strategic foothold, overrunning the Justice Building would largely be a formality and mostly confer onto us the district's communications. Keeping the textile mills as we have, District 8 largely belongs to the rebel forces now. The Capitol will be severely handicapped in their ability to install new floors on their hovercrafts, for example, without the textile districts supplies, critically delaying their production. And so far, the Capitol's battle strategy has been an aerial campaign; there is no ground war to speak of…. yet, though Paylor thinks that shift may take place soon.
We land just beyond the Victors' Village, which only ever had four houses filled. I notice how Cecelia is fixated on the mansion at the left farthest corner, just inside the gates; it must be where she lived with her husband and built a family.
"Cece, would you like to go in?" Paylor's voice is incredibly gentle, but the young Victor shakes her head.
"I don't think the Mockingjay would want a tour of such a sad place." She turns away with a sigh, wiping at her eyes. "Besides, we need to get Katniss to the hospital, so she can visit with the injured."
The invocation of a hospital reminds me of a problem that Katniss actually solved before we left. The visit to this hospital in Eight is significant, as it will be the first time that Katniss has been seen alive since the end of the Quarter Quell. Over the ensuing months, rumors have abounded outside our hermetically-sealed community in Thirteen that Katniss is dead – something that I am sure Snow would love very much for his people to believe. Unfortunately, a disputing of that fact will leave many confused, as Katniss was believed to be at least two months pregnant at the time of the Quell. How do we explain away the fact that there was no baby, that my goddaughter never gave birth? Had she really been expecting, she likely would either be in the ending weeks of her pregnancy or even already delivered by now. Katniss solved the issue in our final strategy meeting by floating the idea of a miscarriage. Coin agreed to it rapidly.
Paylor leads us through many of the bombed out streets on the way to the hospital – one of the few structures outside of the Victors' Village, the Justice Building and the larger textile mills still standing. At one point, Cecelia once again goes quiet as we pass by a razed blacktop; for once, she doesn't point out what used to be there, the way she has been throughout our sweep of the district. Remembering a conversation I had with her mentor, Cora Shutter, years ago, I wonder if this used to be the sight of the district brothel, of which Cora was the madame.
Much of Fog Town, District 8's working-class neighborhood and where Cecelia grew up, is eerily deserted and quiet. The silence clearly unnerves my goddaughter, who moves cautiously and even has her bow strung and at the ready. At one point, Pollux lightly touches Katniss's arm; glancing to him, she smiles weakly.
Pollux signs something with his hands. Still illiterate in his form of communication though I may be, I have to imagine it's roughly the equivalent of Are you all right?
I'm fine, Katniss seems to sign back.
Paylor finally points out the hospital looming above us as we turn the next corner. It's set in a section of town surrounded by bombed out buildings, and all the glass in the windows has been blown out. It's a miracle the facility survived the Capitol's aerial assault, and looking like a shell of a building same its neighbors around it, it is fortunate it has managed to keep its head down and continue its work.
A rebel lieutenant dressed interestingly in the white-plated uniform of a Peacekeeper greets Paylor at the door – a turncoat to our side, perhaps? Paylor makes no confirmation one way or the other, and simply ushers us inside.
At my left, Plutarch Heavensbee seems unsure whether to act dismayed by the sheer devastation and death that now lines both walls, or to be heartened that so many of these banged-up fighters are survivors, their eyes burning with the hunger to do battle with the Capitol another day. To my right, Katniss also appears taken aback by the traumas and horrors of war, now before her on graphic display. Heads are bandaged, arms are in slings. One man has two stumps where both his legs should be, as well as much of his left forearm amputated, but smiles at me gamely as I pass.
None of us are entirely sure how or when it starts, or who starts it. But someone spies my goddaughter and recognizes her. A pair of eyes go wide, and her name is spoken like a prayer. "Katniss Everdeen."
Then another person says it. And another. And another. A few more able-bodied casualties actually manage to lift themselves out of their cots and walk, stagger, in a few cases crawl to my goddaughter's side until a crowd gathers. People reach out to take her hand. Touch her face. Knowing that she is someone who only allows physical displays of affection from a select few people, I am at first uncertain as to how Katniss will take this warm reception. To my surprise and pride, she accepts each and every outpouring of support with grace, apparently deeply moved.
Some ask her if it is really her, if she really is alive, like she is a vision or a ghost. Many more ask her about Peeta: is he all right? Katniss doesn't exactly answer this question satisfactorily; she can't, getting emotional each time it is brought up. Her tears play well whenever this question is usually followed up immediately by: where is the baby? How is it? Miscarriage, she'll say tearfully. Katniss has never been the best actress – not the way that my son was – but still manages to play it believably. And in any case, there is one thing she doesn't fake, nor could if she tried: her pain over missing her beloved Peeta is all too real.
Suddenly, a steady whine splits the air above us, and many of the District Eight soldiers who are still in fighting shape whip out automatic weapons. Long range rifles.
"Incoming!" the lieutenant calls. "Commander, Miss Rheys – get the Mockingjay out of here!" Boggs forces Katniss to bend low to the ground and hustles her towards the hospital entrance, the rest of our party racing behind.
"Back to the hovercraft!" Plutarch calls over the growing chaos. "Stay in formation, and use the buildings for cover, if necessary!"
We are clear of the hospital facility, and have only made it a block or two before tremors shake the earth. Glancing back, I can see Katniss staring up at the Capitol fighter planes and hovercraft swooping overhead. I hope we can make it back to Victors' Village before our own hovercraft is discovered; if it is spotted and obliterated, we'll be stranded.
As we watch in horror, one of the Capitol's planes drops a payload of bombs directly over the hospital. A majority of the structure collapses and pockets of fire go up. The steady stream of people who can evacuate turns into a gushing torrent, but still many others who are unable to walk or move will be trapped.
Another bomb lands too close for comfort, and Plutrach herds most of us in a wild dive to take shelter against the corner of the ruins of one tenement.
I scan the faces near me wildly. "KATNISS!"
Across the street, my goddaughter has taken shelter and scaled a power line steeple. Even from this far away, I can see her face twisted into an outraged sneer as she pulls back the string on her bow.
"Shoot her! Shoot her! Are you getting this?!" Cressida is screaming at Pollux, and he just nods frantically, the camera rolling.
Taking aim, Katniss fires at the Capitol craft as it sweeps in to make one more run on the hospital. It is a direct hit and the plane flames out just before dropping its payload. Katniss's attack with literal fiery arrows (apparently a design by Beetee) causes the plane to completely miss its target and drop its crate of bombs on the Justice Building instead before the craft itself crashlands into the building.
The explosion is humongous and oddly beautiful, as the Justice Building burns with all of the Capitol's district leadership still barricaded inside. We may now not get access to the communication consoles, but at least the Capitol won't either. District 8 is now cut off from the outside world and most importantly, its oppressor.
There is another shudder and we huddle tighter together as we watch the rest of the hospital collapse in on itself. Screams from the dead and dying still inside can be heard. We may have taken out the Justice Building, but the hospital is destroyed.
As the buzz of Capitol bombers fades, Cressida and Pollux creep out and into the street, approaching where Katniss is watching the hospital and the Justice Building burn.
"Katniss? Is there anything you'd like to say to the people watching at home?"
My goddaughter turns slowly at Cressida's question. "Yes. I want to talk to the people who don't believe that the Capitol would destroy us or don't realize what they can do. This is what they do!" She gestures all around and behind her. "The Capitol just destroyed a field hospital filled with innocent men, women and children. But we just destroyed their Justice Building, and their puppet mayor inside it. So I have a message for President Snow: fire is catching. If we burn, you burn with us!"
Plutarch lets out a victorious shout, clenching his fists. "CUT!" he bellows, and Pollux cuts the feed. The ex-Gamemaker is practically vibrating, grabbing me, Cecelia, Paylor, anyone who will listen.
"Did you get that? Did you hear what she said?" He enthusiastically shakes his fist. "Now, you listen to me, you're going to remember this to your last day! I hope Snow soils himself when we air that, the fucker!"
Locking eyes with my goddaughter, I give her a beaming smile and a thumbs-up. Slowly, Katniss smiles back with the most confidence I think I've seen from her – ever.
She has finally become the Mockingjay.
We manage to return to and lift off in our hovercraft safely. On the return trip, Captain Newsom detects Capitol radar coming in close to our airspace, so we touch down in some green meadow (still untouched by war's devastation) somewhere between Districts 12 and 13 just to be safe.
Encamped by a stream, a group of mockingjays is whistling. Katniss whistles out a new tune, and they copy it almost instantly. Just like they used to do for her father.
Fiddling with his camera, Pollux gazes at Katniss, enraptured. When he smiles at her after she catches him staring, she blushes. Pollux merely smiles at her and signs something. Katniss frowns at him bemusedly.
"You want me to sing?"
He nods eagerly.
I don't think I've heard Katniss sing since before she entered the arena the first time. She certainly has had no reason to sing since being stuck underground in Thirteen. She has been too sad to. But here, now, in this beautiful place, on a respite from war and battles, she lifts her voice in that pretty alto that first caused my son to fall hard:
"Down in the valley, the valley so low, late in the evening, hear the train blow… The Train, love, hear the train blow…"
We are in the mess hall for dinner one evening, a few days after returning from District 8, when it happens.
Capitol programming suddenly breaks into the regular entertainment approved by District 13… and Katniss and I both freeze when we realize it is Peeta who is now onscreen.
My goddaughter and I can both tell right away: whatever they are doing to him, Peeta is looking worse. I have never seen him look physically this endangered, not even in the arena either time, except right after he walked into the forcefield.
Caesar is trying to coach Peeta through a report on the bombing in District 8. Much of it is Capitol propaganda, of course, like how they try to frame the building which collapsed as not being a hospital, but a secret rebel nuclear stash. The bombing of the Eight Justice Building, and Katniss's cause of it is, obviously, played in full.
"Katniss…" Peeta is now saying. "What will the cost be? How many lives will be lost as you go around playing soldier?" There is something unrecognizably mocking and jeering to Peeta's plea, and I don't like it a bit.
All at once, the image of Peeta fritzes out, to be replaced by one of Katniss in the meadow by that stream, singing while Pollux secretly filmed her.
"Down in the valley, the valley so low, late in the evening, hear the train blow… The Train, love, hear the train blow…"
Most critical of all: Peeta sees and hears her. You can tell from the stunned expression on his face.
"Katniss?"
I understand what's happening, as the room lifts its collective voice in a chorus of unexpected cheers: Beetee has managed to hack into the Capitol's programming system, and is fighting to maintain control.
The images onscreen soon become a spliced cut between Peeta's bewildered face and Katniss's beautiful singing. I had no idea that Beetee would be attempting a hack into the Capitol's digital systems so soon, or why he wouldn't have given Coin and the rest of us fair warning that he was close to making such an attempt.
Now why wouldn't Beetee have kept us informed of his progress? Unless…. Unless he trusts Coin and her team about as little as I do.
The onscreen image settles back onto Peeta and stays there; Beetee must have been booted off. Peeta is sitting perfectly still, clearly shaken.
"We had some…. technical difficulties there, folks, our apologies," Caesar chuckles tightly from somewhere out of frame. "Peeta? Is there anything you would like to say to Miss Everdeen further?"
Peeta slowly turns his head to look directly into the camera. "They're coming, Katniss," he breathes. "Bombs raining down – you'll be dead by morning!"
Hands are grabbing him, yanking him away, but he gets the words out. "Cut it! Cut it!" someone is screeching, and the screens abruptly go dark.
For a moment, all is quiet. And then screams go up.
Standing at the far edge of the room, Coin springs into action, waving people out of the mess hall and down the flights of stairs. "Everyone, to the bunker!"
Chaos reigns. There is an impossible crunch of bodies on the stairwell, and I fear some will be pushed off and fall to their deaths as people are barely able to keep from trampling over each other to get to the bomb bunkers at the bottom-most level of Thirteen's facilities. I am somehow able to keep a hold of Katniss in the throng. Her grey eyes are wild and petrified, screaming as she searches for her mother and sister.
Then someone is squeezing her other hand, and Belle is at her side, Proximo resting a hand on his lover's shoulder. Mother is about as stricken as daughter, as she screams, "Primrose! Primrose! Where is Primrose?!"
We are at the second-to-most bottom floor now, where the political prisoners are held. I push Katniss towards her mother and Proximo. "Get to the bunker! I'll get Primrose!" And I try to fight my way upstream, past the flood of people streaming in the opposite direction. If Prim went back for that damn cat...
I barely get to the next floor above the dungeons when I bump into Primrose, predictably holding Buttercup. Somehow, she managed to get back to the Everdeen apartment and recover The Devil Cat.
"Into the bunker! Find your mother and sister!" I order, reversing course to guide her down the stairs. As I watch my littlest surrogate niece dash for safety, I suddenly remember someone else who is still in danger. Biting my lip, I enter the prison ward.
Cecelia Rheys is there, pleading with the warden on duty.
"You have to let him out! If he's not in the bunker when the bombs arrive, he could be killed!"
"Not on your life…" The warden shakes her head.
The guard's back is to me, so she doesn't see me coming. Tackling the poor woman, I apply a hold I learned from Proximo in the Training Center so long ago and she almost falls asleep in my grip. Setting her body aside, I pluck the cell key off her person, and Cecelia and I break into Brutus's cell.
Cecelia throws her arms around her fellow Victor and kisses him as I set to work unlocking the electro-coils holding him.
"What are you doing?" my old mentor asks between Cecelia's kisses, bewildered.
"Saving you life," I snarl. "You may be a prisoner, and you may be an ass, but you deserve to be bombed into oblivion about as little as we do!" Freeing him, I grab his other hand. "Come on!" I remember to pause just long enough to get the unconscious guard up and across my shoulders.
We three Victors make a mad dash for the bunker doors, Coin at the threshold and screaming at the last stragglers to hurry up; our technicians project that the Capitol bombers are only a few minutes out. The large, steel doors are closing fast and Cecelia and I dive through with Brutus and the warden, not waiting to see if Coin will try and stop us from leading a political prisoner to safety. Knowing her, she probably would.
Only a minute or two after our quartet is clear of the blast doors, the steel closes behind us, entombing us all into darkness.
A minute after that, we can feel the quakes from high above as bombs begin to rain down on no-man's land. Dust falls from the ceiling, and the bunker itself shakes. Lights briefly flicker in, and then wink out with chilling permanence.
I find my husband, Rye and Jonadab quickly in the mass of bodies. Down here in the bomb shelter, hundreds of cots and air mattresses are set up. On one set of mounted bunk beds, I see Belle resting her head on Proximo's shoulder, Primrose tucked into her other side. On another cot, Finnick and Annie are huddled together. On an air mattress, cloaked in shadow, I make out Johanna Mason nestled in the arms of Gale Hawthorne, the pair lazily kissing. My fellow Victor from 7 looks thoroughly delighted by the attentions.
On a bottom bunk at the far end of the room, just off from where her family is sitting, Katniss has come upon a flashlight and is currently entertaining Buttercup with its beam, watching the cat chase the circle of light from wall to floor and back again. Next to her, Pollux rests a hand on Katniss's knee and she smiles at him softly. Observing her, Proximo finally stands, presses a kiss into Belle's temple, and wanders over to his girlfriend's eldest daughter. He points to the empty space besides her and Pollux.
"Mind if I sit?"
Katniss peers at him for a moment before shrugging and Proximo cautiously lowers himself beside her. Silence reigns between the pair for a moment, before I hear Katniss mumble out:
"I saw how you stayed right with my mother when we were all evacuating."
"Of course I would," the former trainer smiles at her.
My goddaughter studies him for a long time, and then manages: "Thank you. And… you have my blessing. Just promise me you'll take care of her."
Proximo beams gratefully. "I appreciate your approval, Katniss. I know you care for your mother very much. And I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately. But let me tell you a secret: you don't have to protect everybody. And in the case of your mom, it's her job to protect you, Katniss – not the other way around. Although, I admire you for wanting to anyway."
Katniss smiles at him tentatively. From where he is standing next to me and huddled with Cecelia, Brutus chooses this precise moment to insert himself into the conversation. Striding over to the bottom bunk, he nudges Pollux closer into Katniss's side to make room before lowering himself down onto the mattress; the bedsprings creak in protest of his weight.
Katniss cranes her neck around Pollux to glower at the former Career. She clearly hasn't forgotten how he and his allies tried to kill her and her friends in the Quarter Quell arena. "What do you want?"
Brutus takes less offense to my goddaughter's hostility than I had hoped he would. My old mentor just shrugs. "Nothing. It's just that we've never been properly introduced." He sticks out a meaty palm. "Brutus Barsetti, Victor of the 48th Hunger Games."
Katniss shakes his hand warily. She doesn't say nice to meet you – with her and Brutus's history, how awkward would that be?
"How are you down here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be locked up?"
"I have colleagues in high places," Brutus smiles at me, and then winks at Cecelia, though the mirth is mostly reserved for his lover from District 8. "Your godmother sprung me so I wouldn't get obliterated to smithereens."
"How charitable of her," Katniss quips. "I doubt I would have done the same." I smirk deliciously at this, but once again, Brutus doesn't seem to mind.
A bout of silence permeates the strange bedfellows on that bottom bunk, until Brutus finally breaks it with: "You know, if you rebels hadn't short-circuited the arena and cut those Games early, I totally would have won again."
Cecelia smiles softly, giggling behind her hand. I do a face-plant into my palm, shaking my head.
