The Guardian Games: The Wrath of Five
Chapter 11: A Deathly Blow
District 10
So, they learned that Nicholas St. North was dead.
How did he die?
The story went that his house caught fire and blew itself up. It was a rather tragic affair. The whole of Panem mourned the loss of another of their decorated victors, though he was sort of old and uninteresting by now.
No one in District 10 believed it, however. There were people who had seen the smoke rising from the house, the white trucks belonging the Peacekeepers and heard the firing of guns. Security in the District had increased, with guards now accompanying workers into the fields and punishments now being conducted regularly in the town square. The Capitol was not happy with District 10.
"Get the door, Emma."
Her mother had not commented on her honesty regarding the attack on North's house. Ma didn't want her to believe for any reason that just because she was right once meant that she was right about other things, like invisible sword-wielding fairies and flying metal birds. So Emma responded by mutely following her mother's commands and doing little else.
Drying her hands on her skirt, the girl made her way over to the door. She couldn't guess who was outside, because now was night time, and with the curfews, no one was supposed to be out.
Opening the door, she was surprised to see a man in a dark hat and coat at the door. His face was obscured by the shadows, but Emma couldn't help but feel like she had seen him before.
"Emma, who is it?" her mother called from the bedroom. She didn't reply, because she didn't honestly know who.
"I need to speak to your mother," the visitor told her. He glanced over his shoulder, into the dark expanse behind him. There was an anxiousness in his tone. "Immediately."
"Emma, who's-" Ma broke off when she reached the door herself, her brows rising in surprise at the unexpected sight.
Without asking for permission, the visitor stepped in, boots coated with mud and coat reeking smoke. He was carrying a suitcase with one hand and using the other to remove his hat, revealing his graying hair. The girl let out a little gasp. He was that man that she had seen at Mr. North's house before the fire started.
"Mrs. Overland," he greeted, shoving the hat under his arm.
Her mother considered him with an unreadable expression, before telling her, "Emma, close the door."
The girl did as she was asked while the unexpected guest stripped himself further of his dusty, ash-scented coat. He was haggard and exhausted, with bags under his eyes and a worried crease on his forehead.
Her mother didn't invite him to sit, instead going to the windows and drawing the curtains. Her manner was brisk business-like, but she sounded aggressive. "What are you doing here?"
"Peacekeepers are looking for me," was his simple reply.
"So, you came here," was Ma's angry remark.
"Yes."
"I don't know what you're involved in, and frankly I don't want to know." Her mother then turned to her. "Emma. Go to your room."
She glanced at the man, whose scarred, tattooed face dipped down to her. For a face that had been so hardened by war and anger, his expression towards her was strangely gentle.
Ma's tone became harsher. "Emma."
The girl scrambled across the dining area to her small room. She made the move of closing the door, but left a little gap. Through that narrow slit, she watched the scene playing out between the two adults.
"What kind of trouble are you in, Mr. Bunnymund?" her mother asked, folding her arms up.
The man didn't answer immediately, but Emma watched his shoulders droop suddenly as his hands dug into his pocket.
Ma didn't let go of the question, however. "You and the other victor were working together, weren't you?"
She watched the man sigh. "We were allies. They got him, and now they're looking for me."
"You can't be here." There was no hesitation in Ma's words. "You must leave. Now."
"Mrs. Overland – Abigail – please. There's nowhere else I can-"
"Your presence is a danger to my daughter and to me." Her mother pointed towards the door decisively. "I won't report you, but I can't house you either."
"Mrs. Overland." Mr. Bunnymund's tone became cold. "You don't realise that if they get me, they will get you too."
"What do you mean?"
"Once they find me, they will find those that I've been in contact with. And considering that I've once given a significant sum of money to you, they'll find you out – sooner or later."
A flash of fear appeared on her mother's face, but it was quickly hidden. "You assured me that the transaction would be discreet."
"Well, I used to think the rebellion channels were untraceable. I was wrong, of course." Mr. Bunnymund hung his head down, gritting his teeth as if in pain. "I could be wrong again."
Emma's eyes widened. The rebellion? Mr. Bunnymund, and the nice man who had given her Lastochka were part of the rebellion. She wasn't completely sure what the word meant, but whenever people in District 10 mentioned it, it was spoken with a mix of longing and fear. Moreover, people avoided saying it all in front of the white-coats, for that kind of thing could lead to whipping, or worse – getting shot. If the Capitol didn't like this word, then it was no wonder Ma didn't want to the man to be here.
Her mother's opinion however seemed to have been changed slightly. She paced the room once, then twice, then she sat down at the table. Throughout the whole thing, Mr. Bunnymund didn't speak, just holding his suitcase, and watching her expectantly.
Finally, her mother, face pale, asked, "You can't stay here forever. They'll find out."
"I only need five days."
"Two."
"Four."
"Three."
"Done." He sounded oddly satisfied, which made Emma suspected that was the number he wanted all along.
Ma must have come to a similar conclusion, for her manner was a good deal more snappish, like a customer who had been cheated of a good bargain. "You can't leave this house at all. I won't have people spotting you wandering around here." She marched over to the window, peeking out of the curtains. "Are you sure you weren't followed here?"
"If I were, there'd have been more knocking on your door by now," was Mr. Bunnymund's exasperated reply. "Besides, I won't need to go out much. I'll working here on my escape plan out."
"Hmm." There's a disbelieving note in her mother's voice as she lowered down the curtain flap over the window. "And what is that plan exactly?"
"I thought you didn't want to know anything."
"You have to convince me that you actually have a plan for leaving."
Mr. Bunnymund shrugged as he lifted his suitcase onto the dining table. "Alright, but don't blame me if you don't understand it. It's quite complicated."
Emma remembered seeing him unlock the case and open it, but she never got to see what was inside the case, for she had fallen asleep then. Not on the bed, but next to the door where she had been eavesdropping. She had lain slumped in this fashion until a jolt against her leg awoke her. "Emma! What are you doing on the floor?"
She sat herself upright, rubbing her eyes and squinting as light pierced her pupils. "Erm." No excuse came to mind.
Fortunately, her mother was not really in a mood to question her. "Come." She took her by the hand. "You'll sleep in my room for the next three days, alright?"
The inquiry of why was on the tip of her tongue, but then she caught sight of Mr. Bunnymund sitting next at the dining table, with an assortment of tools in front of him along with numerous wires. A visor had been lowered over his face, presumably to protect his eyes while the welding torch in his hand sprayed fire over something small that he held between metal prongs. Before she could get a clearer look, Ma had firmly pushed her into her own bedroom, closing the door to their stranger.
Emma changed into her night things and Ma tucked her in, planting a kiss on her forehead. However, Ma didn't go sleep then, instead disappearing behind the door. The girl sighed, shifted herself in the very empty bed. She could hear talking outside, but she fell asleep before making it out what any of it meant.
When she awoke, she woke to an empty bed. Did Ma come to sleep at all last night? She honestly didn't know. If she asked Ma, she would probably get a nagging about how she should learn to seize the day and wake up earlier too.
When she left Ma's room, she noted the dining room was cleared of all the strange objects she had seen the day before. Her mother was cooking breakfast, her brown hair tied up the way it had always been. She noticed her daughter's presence when the bedroom door hinges creaked. "Come sit, Emma. We don't want you to be late for school."
It was as if the strange incident last night hadn't happened. Emma would have believed that herself if she had noticed that her bedroom door was mysteriously shut. She wouldn't be surprised that she would find it locked if she tried the knob.
"Emma." Her mother's sharp tone drew her attention away from her bedroom. The plate carrying her pancakes clang against the table, right in front of her. Her mother was eyeing her meaningfully, as if she was going to talk about her room, but instead only said, "Eat your breakfast."
After the girl returned home from school, her mother sent her back out almost immediately. She was to return the clean laundry back to their owners and to collect soiled ones from other clients. By the time she reached home, she was very tired and did not argue when Ma sent her to bed. Again, she was sent to Ma's bedroom to sleep. Again, she did not see Ma go to bed, nor did she see more of the man called Mr. Bunnymund.
The next morning, she went to school as usual. Well, except that District 10 seemed more flooded with Peacekeepers than ever. They were marching around, bearing their guns, their opaque visors swerving left and swerving right. When they passed, Emma couldn't help but lower her head in fright. They ignored her, because in their eyes, she was just a stupid kid who didn't know anything. For once, she was glad for that.
She finished her chores early on that day, so it was early evening when she arrived back home. In her arms, she hauled the laundry basket. With no free hands, she kicked open the door.
Her sudden action however caused alarm for her guest, who raised the saucepan at her. He was not hidden away in her bedroom, as he had been before. When he realized it was just her, Mr. Bunnymund lowered the cooking utensil back onto the stove, where it belonged. He let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you."
Emma didn't speak. She didn't know if Ma allowed her to. For most part, she was supposed to pretend that their mysterious guest didn't exist. She kicked the door behind her, putting the basket of laundry down on the floor.
Mr. Bunnymund looked dirtier and scrappier than she saw him. He smelled quite unpleasant too, probably because he couldn't go to the bath house. It was a fifteen walk from their little cottage, so people might see him. Even if Ma were to bring in pails of water into the house for him to bathe, it would look suspicious, because everyone knew that they would usually go out to bathe. He seemed to be very uncomfortable with his state of cleanliness and the girl couldn't help but a little sorry for him.
He must have mistaken her expression of sympathy for questioning, for he then excused himself hastily, "I'm hungry."
Ah. Her mother must have had some secret was of sneaking food into his room at other times. Now that her mother wasn't home, that responsibility fell to her. Rolling up her sleeves, Emma marched up to the kitchen. She wasn't allowed to touch the stove, but she could look for other food he could eat without cooking.
There was some bread in cupboard - not much, just enough for one person. There was also some cheese and milk, which she handed to him. He accepted these offerings with thanks.
"You shouldn't be out here," she told him in a very serious voice that sounded more like her mother than herself.
He nodded in agreement, before retreating to her bedroom. Just before he closed it, Emma saw the suitcase, wires and tools strewn on the floor. Next to it, there was a radio and some books, all lying face open and filled with squiggles letters. Before she could ask about his belongings, the bedroom door was shut.
When Ma returned home, Emma did not bring up her encounter with Mr. Bunnymund. She doubted Ma would be happy to know that their guest had snuck out of his assigned quarters and even less that she had interacted with him. So she lied about the time she reached home. Her mother was pleased with the answer and cooked them dinner. It was then Emma noticed her mother quietly prepared an extra portion of the soup and poured it into another bowl. Ma didn't touch the bowl at all after that, letting Emma finish her food first. After that, she hustled her daughter back into the bedroom that they both now shared.
The girl pretended to follow her mother's instructions obediently, changing into her night clothes and climbing into bed. She lay still against the pillows, so Ma thought that she had fallen asleep. She heard Ma close the bedroom door behind her and knew that she had left the room. It was then that Emma threw off the covers and snuck silent as a ghost to the bedroom door.
Peeking through the cracks of the door, she saw Ma carry that extra bowl of soup to the other bedroom, knocking. The door opened and Ma went inside. The door was then pulled shut, but not completely. This was her chance.
Escaping her mother's bedroom, Emma crept towards her own bedroom door, hiding herself in the shadows. She dared a peep – just one peep – through the gap between the door and its frame. She saw Ma lay down the bowl on floor, next to where Mr. Bunnymund was working. He seemed to be joining some thin wires to a flat metal band of some kind. Emma had never seen such things and was amazed that the man knew precisely what to do with all of it.
Her mother however didn't seem very impress with her guest's work. "You're doing it wrong."
"What?" the man gazed up at her, confused.
"You shouldn't join it that way. You'll make it short-circuit instead. Here." Ma took the pliers and the complicated contraption. The girl's jaw almost dropped to Earth when she saw how quickly Ma threaded the wires through the contraption, looping it around in a certain manner that she didn't understand. She kneeled to get some of the scattered metal parts that were on the floor, fitting it into them into the contraption with practiced ease.
After a few minutes, Ma handed it back to the man, who staring at her too, completely astonished. He cleared his throat, before asking, "When did you learn how-"
"My father was an excellent engineer," was her mother's cool answer. Her eyes flicked down to the small, band like object. "You're making a teleportation device, aren't you?"
The incredulity over the man's face so stark that Emma wished she could paint it. Clearing his throat once more, he wheezed out, "Yes."
"Those are very dangerous," she warned. "And unpredictable."
"I don't have a choice," Mr. Bunnymund answered, taking the pliers back from her mother. He was starting to look at her with a new expression – admiration? "North and I intended it only for emergencies. It was damaged in the blast over his house."
"I see." Her mother was very quiet now, but Emma could almost hear her thinking. "How did you learn this technology?"
"North was the one who smuggled it from the Capitol. The foundations of the calculations were all done by Robert Callaghan. Do you know that name?" Her mother's expression was blank, prompting Mr. Bunnymund to explain, "He was one of the finest inventors and scientists of Panem. Before Lotso killed him, of course." He spat out a spite laugh. "He has a nasty habit of doing that to talented people."
"I suppose." Her mother sounded distracted.
"North struggled with to make anything feasible with it. It required a lot of power, and needed huge infrastructure. He sent it over to some contacts in District 3, thinking they might be able to do something with the formulas. They did, and sent us back the blueprints of their design." He held up the small half-completed contraption to Ma, eyes gleaming meaningfully. "A miniaturized, portable teleporter."
"Does it actually work?"
He shrugged. "I've heard that other prototypes have, but that's provided I can fix it back."
Silence fell over the room over for a moment as Mr. Bunnymund returned to his fiddling. Ma just sat on the bed and watched him. Seeing that they were not going to talk anymore, Emma decided to go back to Ma's bedroom. She was feeling rather sleepy now, anyway. Before she did, however, she cast a glance out of the window and was sorrowful to note that there was no moon tonight.
The next morning, she awoke remembering that today was the third day. After tonight, Mr. Bunnymund would leave.
Dressing herself in her night clothes, Emma went to open the bedroom door, only realizing that there were raised voices coming from outside.
"-intrusion here!"
"Move out of the way, woman!"
She saw her mother flung back by a Peacekeeper who came stomping into their house. The automatic resting in his arm was lifted, its nozzle pointed with purpose and threat. Behind him, another of the white-guards entered, also armed. He knocked his tall head against the short roof and let out a curse. Emma privately rejoiced in his pain.
"Emma." Ma had managed to catch herself on the table and didn't fall over. She was now gesturing frantically at her. "Come here."
She ran over to her mother, letting her hold her in tight embrace. As if that could protect her from a bullet.
One of the guards started snooping around in the kitchen, pointing his gun at everything and staring suspiciously at the cupboards before ripping them open. The other guard moved towards her mother's room. Even though she couldn't see what he was doing, it sounded like he was just overturning everything he could find. The girl gasped when she heard him ripping open the pillows. Anger boiled within her. Jack had been the one to make those pillows, and he had worked very hard on it.
"No, Emma." It was like her mother knew what she had in mind. She made Emma stand behind her and she herself moved around the dining table, out of the way of the Peacekeepers. The girl watched in bewilderment as her mother reached under the table and she heard a soft 'click' when something dropped in her mother's hand.
The Peacekeeper poking around the kitchen suddenly had his attention drawn towards the closed bedroom door. He spun about, heading towards it. Emma felt her heart thudding frantically and she gripped her mother's wrist tightly. She couldn't see Ma's expression, but she could feel her tensing up.
The Peacekeeper tried the knob, but it was locked. Emma knew that there was no chance anymore. Even if Mr. Bunnymund managed to climb out her small window, there was no way he took all his belongings with him. The Peacekeepers would find all strange devices, and the guns would swing to their direction instead.
The white-guard called for his companion, and both of them stood in front of the locked door. They ignore the two trembling females, because they are clearly the ones in power here. They rammed the butts of their weapons against on the door, breaking it open slowly but surely.
So they never noticed it when Ma suddenly raised her hand and shot a brilliant blue bolt towards one of them.
The Peacekeeper that she shot stumbled back, a dent visible on his helmet as he collapsed. His companion whipped around, but by then Ma had shifted her small, metallic-curved gun towards him. Before the soldier could even lift his weapon, she had fired a hole into his chest plate. He clutched against it, before too following his partner to the ground.
It was only then that Emma could release the breath she was holding. She stared at the two dead Peacekeepers, then back at her mother. Ma's expression was grim as she lowered the small gun in her hand. She took the girl's hand and pulled her along as she approached the locked the door. With the side of her arm, she rapped against the wooden. "Aster, get out!"
She heard the locks 'clink' before the door was yanked open. Mr. Bunnymund's head emerged. In his hand, she saw his welding torch, which he was probably going to use as a weapon. He gawked down at the fallen bodies of the Peacekeepers, then up to her mother and the strange-looking gun in her hand.
"Pack only what you need," Ma ordered him, letting go off Emma's hand briefly adjust something on her gun. "There'll be others soon."
He had questions, but he knew better than to ask them now. The girl watched his head disappear back into the bedroom. A few second later, Mr. Bunnymund emerged. He was carrying nothing in his hands, but he was now wearing a stash of egg-shaped boxes on in front of him. He covered this over with a coat, and in the coat, he pocketed the contraption and his welding torch. He nodded to her mother.
Her mother only grabbed a cloak for herself and a coat for Emma before they all departed the cottage. When they stepped off the porch of the cottage, it occurred to the girl that this might be the last time she'd ever see her home.
"They'll be searching all the houses around here," she heard Mr. Bunnymund say. "They're looking for me."
"Don't flatter yourself," Ma snapped at him. "I'm sure they're here to sniff out all the rebels, not just you."
"What was that?" Mr. Bunnymund exclaimed as they hurried crossed the pastures, moving hastily to the forest. "Rather, where did you get that?" He jerked his head towards the gun that her mother was carrying.
Ma's answer was very matter-of-fact as she pocketed it. "I made it."
"You made it?" he repeated in utter disbelief. "But … how?" The shelter of the branches came over them now, hiding them from immediate sight. But the Peacekeepers searching the area would be able to find their footprints on the mud. They had to move quickly.
"I told you my father was an engineer." There was an odd look on Ma's face. "He taught me very well."
District 13
"The Man in the Moon is dead."
Calhoun was considered herself a tough, ruthless soldier, whose emotions were kept tightly under wraps. It was not a choice – it was just programming. But the first time since she learned of her fiancée's death, a deathly chill struck her very core.
Not letting go of the injured boy, she demanded, "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," the boy gasped, trembling in her grasp. "I don't know." His gaze started to wander. "Anna…oh, Anna, I need to get to-"
"You're not going anywhere until you explain things to me, young man!" she growled ferociously at him, forcing his focus back on to her. "How did you find 13? How did you learn about the rebellion? The Guardians symbol?"
He was as white as sheet, stuttering and befuddled. Reckoning that her method might have been too rough, Calhoun released the boy from her grip, panting as she tried to calm herself. In a calmer voice, she asked, "What's your name?"
The boy gulped. "Kristoff, m'am."
She had to be gentle. He might look like a ton of bricks, but with the way he was acting, he could snap any second and she would never get any answers. "Why don't you tell me how this happened, Kristoff?"
He shifted himself uncomfortably on the bed, eyeing her with distrust.
"Listen, squirt." Calhoun's patience was wearing thin. "I haven't got all day. If you want to see that Anna-friend of yours again, I suggest you cooperate."
The blonde lad let out a breath, running one of his needle-ridden hands through his dirty blonde hair. For a second, the soldier thought that he would zip up and she would have to try a more aggressive technique. But eventually, he began to speak, "Where to start? I could say it started with Pabbie, but it wasn't really. It really started with the 74th -"
She inhaled sharply. "The victor of District 12?"
He nodded, adding gravely, "He's dead."
No surprise there. Ever since she left the Capitol, she was no longer privy to as much details about the Rebellion as she had been, now that her focus was on District 13. Back then however, she had been allowed to know some identities of their contacts. Pabbie had been one of them – the only one left from District 12, in fact. "When?"
He frowned as he thought. "Two months ago? After the Victory Tour."
That was actually two and a half months. There hadn't been any messages from the Districts in that entire period. She cursed herself for not noticing that much earlier. She had been busy with matters in District 13, and long-distant monitoring of the Districts made her assume that they were just laying low until given the green-light. She was going to find which dolt oversaw communications and rain hell upon him.
"We went to check his house out – Anna and me. Anna's my-" he hesitated "-well, we're together."
Young love. Calhoun grimaced. She nodded to indicate that she was listening.
"We found his secret room, with his radio and all these code books. We found out about District 13 and the rebellion. We found out to decipher the messages, but we never understood what they were for. Only much later we found another radio that we worked out Pabbie's job – he was supposed to pass the messages onto District 13. The problem was that Anna and I had no idea how to work a radio. We searched for a manual or something but-" he shrugged "-nope."
"We couldn't ask for help, because we knew that Peacekeepers would catch wind of it. We kept everything secret. We didn't know what to do with all the information. Till one day, we decoded an incoming message." He licked his lips. "It was from District 11. 'The Man in the Moon is dead. Code Red. Thirteen. Code Red.' Anna and I fought over it. She said that a man from the Capitol had mentioned that title once, back when they were still asking questions about her sister. If the Capitol was looking for this 'Man in the Moon' back then, he was probably important."
That made Calhoun widen her eyes. The Capitol was actively looking for 'Man-in-the-Moon'? When she was still in working undercover, it had only been rumour. Could it be a leak? She would have to investigate. And what was why was there someone inquiring after some District 12 girl's sister?
"We had a huge argument about what to do with the information. Anna felt that we had to let District 13 know somehow, and since we didn't know how to use a radio, well…"
"We have to go to District 13."
He stared at her. She was perfectly serious.
"No," he finally said, shaking his head, taking the codebook from her hand. "No. It'd be suicide."
"Why not?" she argued. Anna grabbed the map that was lying on the table. "We have this that tells us precisely where it is. We could get there."
Was she mad? No, wait. This was the girl that once tried to climb onto the top of the Hob for the fun of it. This was perfectly normal for her. Why did he like her again? Grabbing her by the shoulder, he told her, slowly, "We don't know what's out there, Anna! Crazy beasts, radiation-"
"Capitol propaganda," she shrugged off.
"-and Capitol forces? I mean, the Capitol built the fences. What makes you think they won't prevent us from escaping them for a reason?"
She went silent for a while, and he thought that he might have actually broken through to her. But then she spoke, full of resolve, "We have to try."
He smacked himself in the forehead.
"C'mon, Kristoff, the rebellion is counting on us," she pleaded, clasping her hands together.
He rolled his eyes, hissing at her, "We're not part of the rebellion!"
"Well, Pabbie was."
"And that's why they killed him!" He didn't know how to explain this to her. With all her family gone, it was easy for her to just make a decision like this. She had nothing to lose. But he still had people – his parents, his extended family - everyone who could and would be punished if his disappearance was discovered. Even worse so if they were discovered heading to District 13.
Even if District 13 really existed, if it could be a haven from the harsh rule of the Capitol, would he be able to leave his family behind in peace?
"Look," she huffed at him, sympathy welling in her eyes. Perhaps she did understand his concern more than he gave her credit for. "You don't need to come."
She had a point, but he couldn't let her. Anna was brave, but he knew her well enough to know that she would never make it on her own. She was so thin, so impulsive, so... helpless – she'd kill herself. He had made a promise to her late sister, after all, that he'd look after her.
She didn't wait for him to give her an answer. She had already made her decision. "I'll go tomorrow night."
"So soon?" he gasped. That didn't give him much time ponder over this. "You're not thinking this through."
"If the message is urgent, they'll need to hear it as soon as possible," Anna insisted. She wasn't listening to him anymore – he didn't know if there was ever a time that she really did. Every inch of her screamed earnestness. "Someone has to go, Kristoff."
Why did that someone have to be her?
"We packed food, and anything that we'd thought we'd need. I took a pickaxe. Anna told me to make the badges – the ones with the 'G' on it." He jerked his head towards the small token threat she held in her hands. "We didn't know what it stood for, but we saw it around Pabbie's secrete rebellion things, so we figured that it'd help you guys to trust us." He reached a hand out to remove the blanket over his leg. She noted he had bandages plastered over them. He began to scratch against them. "We'd – we'd never left the district before. We didn't know what to expect."
"Did you tell your family where you went?" It wasn't a casual question. Calhoun wanted to know if there was anyone back in District 12 that he intended to return – any that might alert the Capitol that of the underground rebellion.
He shook his head, expression full of remorse. "I left notes for them the night they left. I kept it vague – saying that Anna needed to do something important, and I couldn't let her go it alone. I told them not to come after me. I'm nineteen after all." He let out a humourless laugh. "Practically a grown-man."
Calhoun eyed him with surprise. Considering his size and his appearance, she expected him to be much older – at least his late-twenties. But then again, one was forced to grow up quickly in the Districts.
"We crossed the fences at. The electricity's been out for years, but they switched it on recently. Luckily, I have a reindeer that could jump it, so we got through."
The lieutenant blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"A reindeer," Kristoff repeated. "He's called Sven."
"And he helped you two jump over a fence."
"Yes."
Incredulity was written all over her face. "With the both of you sitting on him?"
"It's true," he insisted.
Calhoun wasn't sure if she believed it, but told him, "Carry on."
"We started trekking through the forest using the map, taking turns to ride Sven and rationing our food and water. We didn't run into any beasts, but there were Peacekeepers out there. They flew in hovercrafts over the forests." His voice shook when he said it. "We managed to keep out of sight for most part. We travelled like that for about a week. A couple of times it rained, but we managed to find shelter. On one night, however, our food supplies got wet. We had to finish them up after that. The following days weren't good." The patient shuddered on his bed. "You have to understand. We're from a District of coalminers. We didn't know how to hunt, or forage, or anything."
"Yes." She did understand. Also another reason there were so few victors from the District 12.
"We probably would have died of starvation, I suppose, if we hadn't met some others along the way." Kristoff paused. "Not that we got along at first."
"Don't move!" the girl warned him, pointing her big staff – no, paddle – at him. She wasn't very large in size – around Anna's height, actually. The mass of black curls streaming from behind her did make her look bigger though, but it didn't change the fact that she was threatening to hit him with a paddle of all things.
He made a grab for the paddle, yanking the girl forward as he did. He shook it, but the girl didn't let go. Instead, she kicked him back with surprising strength, making him tumbling back into the bush behind. It was a good cushion, but it didn't change the fact that now she had the upper hand. She advanced towards him, paddle in tow and teeth clenched.
"Hey, you there!" Anna suddenly appeared from around, brandishing his pickaxe – so that's where it went - at his assailant. Sven appeared around the corner, blocking off the curly-haired girl's escape path. "No one threatens my boyfriend!"
He couldn't help grinning a little. Trust Anna to come to his rescue in such a fashion.
Except that the curly-haired girl decided to charge at Anna with her paddle instead. The two girls began to frantic skirmish, axe against paddle, cursing each other. As Kristoff rose back to his feet and brushed off the leaves, he suddenly noticed another figure at the scene. He was carrying a large hook-like weapon under his tattooed arm, along with a net full of fish. His mouth fell open as he looked at the two screaming girls, then he turned to Kristoff.
Not sure what to do, the blonde boy waved – because it was perfectly normal to run into other people also travelling beyond the District fences. "Um, hey?"
The other fellow - a big, muscular guy with crazy hair, like the other girl – stared at him for a while, before greeting back, "Hey."
"So, um, -" Kristoff dragged his foot along the ground awkwardly. His eyes darted down to the net of fish. His stomach grumbled.
The man had heard the sound too, then looked at the haul of fish in his arm. He hummed in thought as his gaze returned to the boy. "Want some?
He tried not to sound too eager. "It'd be nice. I, I mean, we've-" thumbing Anna, who now rolling across the forest floor while trying to snatch away the other girl's paddle "-not eaten in a while – oh! Wow." The man tossed the entire net at him. Was he giving all the food to him? Just like that? "Really? All of it?"
"I can get more of it later," the big man announced cockily, tapping his giant hook. Kristoff wondered what it was made of. It didn't look like anything he'd ever seen in District 12. "You look really hungry."
"Wow!" He was amazed the generosity of this stranger. He glanced towards Anna and the other girl, who was probably the large man's companion. The two fighters were starting to slow down and were now largely reduced to shoving their weapons against each other. Sven, who hadn't really taken part in the whole event, just eyed them with a look that said, 'Reindeers are better than people – that includes in sanity.'
Kristoff chose then to focus back on the big man with the hook as he scooped up the net. He was completely sincere when he said, "Thank you."
"What can I say?" the stranger answered, grinning as he puffed his chest out proudly. "You're welcome."
"Maui and Moana were running from District 4," the boy told her. "Moana's grandmother, Tala, was part of the rebellion before she passed away. She was the one who told them about District 13. Moana's family had been arrested by Peacekeepers during a raid. She's the only one who escaped." Kristoff halted his tale to reach for the cup of water position at the table next to his bed.
Seeing that it was out of his reach, Calhoun picked it up and handed it to him. He accepted it gratefully. "Maui himself was part of the rebellion once, before he gave up on it. He didn't think that much of District 13, but Moana convinced him to take her there – here, I mean. I don't know how, but she did."
"Anyway, so we became travelling companions. Maui was very good at fishing and navigating with constellations. He taught Moana some, and Anna too – navigation, I mean. I learned fishing, because it was less boring. Things really looked up then. We were so sure that we'd make it, but then-" he hesitated, eyes starting to become unfocused. His lips pressed themselves together.
She didn't need him to say it. She could see it in his gaze. "It was the Capitol, wasn't it?"
The boy didn't look at her, staring down at the bandages across his leg, running all the way up to his chest. His voice was unusually small. "It was so sudden."
Fire swept through the forest, smoke thick and fierce. He clenched his teeth together, hoping that adrenaline would help him bear with it. He didn't want to look at the burn on his leg. If he didn't, he couldn't pretend that it was much better than she expected.
He propped himself up from the ground, coughing. Smoke stinging his eyes and hot air around him was attacking his lungs. "Anna?" he called. "Sven?"
His faithful reindeer emerged from the smoke, appearing largely unharmed from the spray of flame that had unexpectedly descended upon them. Scampering over to Kristoff, Sven immediately lowered his head, offering his antler to the boy.
"Thanks, buddy." He grabbed onto the antler and allowed the reindeer to pull him back to his feet. The fumes were getting thicker. He needed to find the others.
"Kristoff!" He found himself unexpected tackled by a fierce hug. Small, thin arms from a familiar body clutched him. The worry in his heart was replaced by relief and he clung to her, pressing her into him. He breathed her in. Anna was okay. She was okay.
Behind her followed the two District 4 runaways, with Moana having her arm wrapped over Maui's shoulder. She was clutching her abdomen as the big man hustled her forward with a gentleness unexpected from a person his size. Maui himself had bruises on his face and scrapes on his tattooed chest, but did not seem worse for wear.
"We have to keep moving," he shouted to them. His eyes went heavenward, wary. "They'll circle around any second to check for survivors. Use the smoke for cover."
Kristoff nodded while Anna hooked her own under his. He was much bigger than her however, and her attempted to support his weight didn't help much. He didn't have the heart to discourage her though, so he let her accompany him as they hobbled through the blazing forest, Sven following close behind.
The world seemed to be in shades of red and black today. Trees were crumbling around them, soot flying everywhere and smoke threatening to fill their lungs. He pulled his shirt up to cover his nose and he saw his companions do the same. He glanced behind him. The fire was creeping closer. If they didn't escape the region soon enough, they would be surrounded by the flames.
"Anna." He removed her arm from him, gazing up the dark sky with fear. "You have to go on without me."
"Don't be silly. Now's not the time for dramatics." She tried to slide her arm back under his, but he stopped her.
Kristoff glanced up ahead. The District 4 pair were moving much faster than they were, but that was because Maui was much stronger and his companion was a small, light girl. His own leg was stinging madly and he couldn't move any further.
"Take Sven and go with them, Anna," he told her, trying to sound authoritative. "I'm only slowing you down."
She groaned at him, rolling her eyes, turning to the reindeer instead. "Sven, can you please give your best friend a kick in his head? Because he needs it."
"Anna." The fires were flanking them now. This was no time for arguing. "Don't be unreasonable."
"Unreasonable?" she scoffed, before addressing the reindeer again, "Sven, why don't you give h-"
Suddenly, the smoke was blown away and the flames dispersed. A rush of air flooded them from above, making their clothes and hair flap around. Their heads jerked up at once and Kristoff felt his chest tighten.
Over them flew the hovercraft with the Capitol insignia. They had been found.
"Run!"
"Moana was the first down. I don't know where they got her, but she took it really bad."
The curly-haired girl, so strong and determined before, was screaming in pain as she crumpled to the floor. Her large companion swore before picking her up, large muscular arms curling around her small, twisted form. Blood was seeping through her clothes and her eyes tightened in a wince.
Fierce protectiveness gave him strength he didn't know. Picking Anna off her feet, he tossed her onto the reindeer. "Sven! Get her out of here!"
"What? No!" She made a grab at him, but he dodged it. "Kristoff, you idiot! You don't get to play he-"
"Please." Something in tone must have gotten to her, for she stopped struggling against him. She stared down at him.
He licked his lips. The smoke had dried out his throat and his voice sounded hoarse. "You have to bring the message. You know what it is, right?"
They hadn't written it down, just in case the Capitol had killed them and examined their bodies. She nodded, before repeating it to him in a trembling voice, "The Man in the Moon is dead."
"Okay, let's-" his eyes suddenly caught sight of something glistening darting down from the sky, down towards -
"Maui – he-" he closed his eyes "-there was this hook thing that shot out of the hovercraft? I don't know what it's called but it-it-it-"
Blood splattered everywhere. The big man stared at the giant grappling hook that had plunged itself into through his tattooed chest. The injured girl in his arms screamed as he let her go. As her bleeding body rolled back onto the ash-covered ground, the hook from the hovercraft retracted itself, bringing Maui's limp body back with it.
"I went to Moana. She was bleeding very badly. One of the bullet hit her near the heart. But before I knew it, Anna-" his voice broke suddenly, his face crumpling. "Anna, she-" he swallowed "-they started firing again, and we tried to take cover, and then-" Kristoff suddenly buried his face in hands, big form appearing surprisingly frail. "Oh, God, Anna. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry. I couldn't- she was-"
Calhoun lifted an awkward hand towards the boy. She could tell that the events had really taken a toll on him. Still, she wasn't exactly well-versed in comforting people. Clapping awkwardly on his shoulder, she said, "You did your best. At least she's alive."
"You don't know that," he whispered, removing his hands from his face.
She frowned at him, puzzled. "Yes, I do, in fact. As we speak, your …friend is undergoing treatment. District 13 mightn't have Capitol's standards, but we're good." As an afterthought, she added, "She'll get better."
"No, you don't get it." He swung abruptly towards her, eyes full of guilt that no man – boy, really – his age should ever have to bear. "The girl who arrived here with me is Moana, not Anna."
The blonde soldier took a step back. From the looks of it, this lad had only arrived with one other companion. That meant that the other one –
"What happened to her?"
"Kristoff!" Her small hand reached for his.
"Anna!" He darted forward, but his injured leg betrayed him. He couldn't – no, he couldn't.
The metallic prongs that wrapped itself Anna's form dragged off the ground, making her scream as she was lifted into the air. Her braids flew back as her body was pulled towards the hovercraft, disappearing under its steel base. His heart sank to his stomach.
"No, no, ANNA!"
"The Capitol will kill her," he whispered, face unusually pale and body rigid. "If they haven't already. Or they'd torture her." He suddenly grabbed her hand, making Calhoun startle. "You have to let me out there." His eyes were wild. "I need to – I need to-" he scrambled for words, breathing too rapidly to be normal, murmuring, "Anna. Anna. Anna. Anna. Anna-"
Fortunately, the doctor, who must have been monitoring things outside, came rushing back in. "Alright, Lieutenant," he sounded irritated, clambering towards the bed. "I think you've done quite enough."
"He's all yours," was her answer, prying Kristoff's fingers off her wrist. She spun around. The president had to be informed off this news.
"No, wait! Don't go!" the blonde boy called for her, but the Lieutenant paid him no mind. She had things to do and the medical staff could attend to him. "The Capitol still has Anna." She moved towards the door and it opened for her. "PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU! SAVE HER! SAVE ANNA!"
Soldier Reckit was still waiting outside, as she had ordered him to. He saluted at her, before his eyes darted towards the delirious, screaming patient inside the ward. His gaze flickered back to her, awaiting instructions.
"Go to bed, Reckit," she told him, straightening her uniform. She rolled her shoulders back. "I'll tell the President the news myself."
"Yes, m'am," he answered smartly.
Calhoun marched down the infirmary, rolling her shoulders back. This was going to be a long night.
"So that's it. Another Man-in-the-Moon gone."
"That's what it seems, sir."
The dark-skinned President of District 13 mulled over this for a moment, pacing up and down the council room, his leather cloak dragging behind him. The Lieutenant waited silently in attention for orders.
Finally, President Bludvist asked, "Was a successor chosen prior to …"
Calhoun shook her head. "If there were a successor, the MiM would have given us details of how to contact him."
"One of our key-players eliminated. Just like that." He was very matter-of-fact about it. There was no point faking grief, for the President and the leader of the Rebellion had never gotten along very well. But the fact remained that allies, even despised ones, were allies, and with MiM gone and no successor in sight, there could be no consolidated effort against the Capitol in the Districts. Unless…
"Lieutenant." The blonde woman straightened herself at the naming of her rank. "I think we'll need to activate 'Wild Card'."
She blinked in surprise. "Are you certain, sir?"
"We have no choice," he spoke in a grim whisper, flexing his good hand before clenching it. "Order Hamada to have the system ready in twelve hours – even if you have to put a gun at his head." He paused briefly as a stray thought came to mind. "The mutant – is she ready?"
Calhoun frowned. "She has accepted the task, yes, but I don't honestly think she's-"
"She has no choice. We have no choice. The Capitol has forced our hand." President Bludvist scowled as he gazed down on the holographic map of Panem. "With our usual radio communications non-functional, we would need to find another way to get to the rebel cells in the Districts, even if it means dropping new radios from the sky."
The Lieutenant nodded, mentally noting all that needed to be done. "And for District 13, sir?"
He did not speak immediately, for even a man who had seen as much battle and violence as Drago Bludvist was not completely desensitised to it all. He held silence for a moment, almost in reverence of the gravity, but eventually, he spoke, because he had to.
"We go to war."
S/N:
The segment on Kristoff and Anna running to District 13 is inspired by two subplots that were in The Hunger Games books, but not in the movie. The first subplot was about Katniss witnessing a boy and a girl being captured by a hovercraft while on the run outside the District fence. The boy is killed (like Maui) while the girl is captured (like Anna). Katniss later meets the girl, only that she has become an Avox. The other subplot is when Katniss meets a pair of women running from District 8 to District 13. They don't make it.
The money transaction that Bunny and Mrs. Overland were talking about refers to the part in the Odds of Five where Bunny gave Mrs. Overland some of the leftover money from Jack's sponsors during the Games. Also, Mrs. Overland is not what she seems.
I never really meant to introduce any Moana characters in the story, so having them here was mostly just for cameo. Since Moana survived, she might appear a bit more. Other than that, don't expect too much from it.
Up next: WE ARE AT WAR PEOPLE. Sort of.
I really do take forever to update this. Geez.
Guest Review Mailbox:
Yourtruly (Jul 26): Glad that you really liked The Odds of Five. I'm afraid to admit as a sequel, this story is not quite the same level as it predecessor, but I hope it stays entertaining all the same. Haha, I have contemplated the Pirates of Caribbean AU long and hard, but never quite managed to write it out properly haha. It's one difficult AU.
Guest (Jul27): Thanks for the encouragement. Continuing this story, I admit, is a bit tough.
Well, that's all for now.
Critique. Review. Ask Questions.