Ricochet

Chapter 14: This horrible morning

Author: Carla, aka cali-chan
Rating: Most likely PG-13. Nothing worse than what's in the books.
Genre: Adventure/suspense/drama/romance... again, pretty much what's in the books.
Pairings: Peeta/Katniss, Rory/Prim... and probably others. You'll see soon.
Canon/timeline: Same-context AU- this fic still happens in the same world as THG, but the actual events in the books never happened. I'm adding about five years to the characters from the age they were at the beginning of The Hunger Games. Katniss is 21.
Disclaimer: Yeah, just let me go get my transfer laser and switch bodies with Suzanne Collins. Until I find it in the mess that is my room, anything you can recognize belongs to her.

Note: I've never really tried this before (and I'm sure it will eventually come back and bite me in the behind), but each chapter will be from the PoV of a different character. You should be able to tell whose PoV it is fairly easily, though.

Summary: "Primrose Everdeen." This can't be happening, Katniss thought. She desperately pushed through the crowd. I volunteer!, she wanted to scream. I volunteer as tribute! But she couldn't, because she wasn't eligible for the reaping anymore. There was nothing she could do.

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Madge was already running harried even before she left her house that morning.

After Prim got reaped, Katniss and Peeta's escape from the district, and then that fiasco of a call to Haymitch Abernathy a couple nights back, she'd been so worried she'd hardly had a decent night's sleep in a week. She had been hoping she'd be able to get some rest the previous night, as she'd come home early to have dinner with her mother and get the rest of the paperwork done with quickly.

Halfway through the meal, her mother's eating had slowed down, she started taking more time between bites, and taking a hand to her head every few minutes; it was a sure sign that she was starting to feel sick, so they cut the meal short and she accompanied her mom to bed, making sure she took her pills for the migraine. She spent most of the night with her, talking to her and reading to her until she finally fell asleep.

Her father came home a little before midnight, and relieved her of her watch over his wife. It was a routine they had had for the past few years; her mother's headaches always got worse as the Hunger Games drew closer, and they both tried to make it a little bit easier on her, if they could. It was very late when Madge finally got around to working on all the paperwork she'd brought with her from the office. By the time she finally went to bed, it was almost two in the morning.

Like every other weekday, she had to wake up at six in order to be at the office in time. Needless to say, she'd been completely out of it as she went about getting ready. The dark circles under her eyes wouldn't go away, and she hit her knee against her nightstand as she went to put on her shoes. Her bedside table had been there for the last fifteen years of her life, so there was really no excuse for her clumsiness.

She usually had breakfast with her father and then they walked to the office together, but when she came downstairs looking for him, he was nowhere to be found. Grethel, who for some unfathomable reason likedwaking up before dawn, informed her he had left the house even before the sun came up, in such a hurry he'd even forgone breakfast. She wondered what had happened to make her father rush to the office so early.

She was scared it had something to do with Katniss and Peeta. Part of her hoped it did because at least in that case she would finally know what was going on with them, but then again she would never wish for them to get in trouble. She could take not knowing if it meant they were okay.

She finished eating quickly and prepared to leave, picking up her small mountain of paperwork on her way out. Her arms were full so she couldn't easily close the door on her own; she tried to go at it with her foot but she stumbled and half the documents fell out of her hands and went sprawling on the porch floor. She held back an expletive (A lady never curses, she could almost hear her mother's voice remind her) and with a sigh, crouched down to pick everything up before a breeze blew by.

"Excuse me, Miss Undersee?" She looked up from the papers to see that Peacekeeper Mendel was standing at the foot of the porch steps, looking at her expectantly. She could see through the opening in his helmet that there was an adhesive bandage on the bridge of his nose, and she could just see some bruising to the sides of it, courtesy of Katniss's punch the day of the Reaping.

"Hello," she responded. She probably wouldn't be greeting anyone with a "good morning" that day. And her morning wasn't getting any better with the man simply standing there and staring instead of helping her pick up the papers. She thought back to Gale the last time she saw him; he hadn't offered to help her carry her load into the house either, even though he obviously knew she was struggling with it. Was chivalry completely lost nowadays? But that was neither here nor there. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"We've been ordered to go door-to-door for a head count," he explained, sounding annoyingly proper. This wasn't the first time she dealt with Mendel; the man loved pretending to be all official, but in reality he was just pompous and rather inept. "Is everyone in your household accounted for?"

She picked up the last few sheets of paper and stood up as carefully as she could with her arms full of documents. "Yes," she told him, with a nod. The end of her ponytail swished against the back of her neck. "My mother's still sleeping, and both the maid and the cook are already up and working. My father left a while ago for the office, though," she added. "I hope that's not a problem."

"I'm sure it's not," he declared with his nose in the air, like he was doing her some sort of favor. It amazed her, and not in a good way, that he could still be so patronizing even with a broken nose. Especially considering how public that particular happening was. "This is just a formality, really."

She held back the urge to roll her eyes at him. She had no doubt if she had lived in the Seam instead of right in front of the town square, the Peacekeepers would have no qualms about pushing their way into her house and turning every piece of furniture if needed until they could make sure everybody was where they said they were. They just didn't dare do so in the case of the Mayor's house.

And speaking of living right in front of the town square, she'd only just noticed, as she looked past Mendel, that there was a large crowd of people gathering there. The only reason she could think of for the square to be this full of people this early in the morning was if there was a mandatory event in the Games, but the Games hadn't even started yet. "What's going on back there?" she asked the man.

"I'm not sure," he replied, now staring at the cluster of people just as she was. "I've been going from house to house for a while so I haven't been informed about this." Everybody's backs were to them, as if they were looking at something that was happening in the middle of the square.

With a puzzled frown she put down her stack of papers near the door, settled her briefcase on top of them so they wouldn't get blown away by the wind, and made her way down the porch steps, past an utterly confused Mendel and toward the town square with an urgent pace to her steps.

It took her a few minutes to push herself through the crowd, and what she saw when she made it to the front made her heart leap to her throat: Gale, being pushed face-down into the ground by two Peacekeepers. She gasped. "What's happening?" she asked out loud to whoever in the crowd might answer her. "Why are they doing this to him?"

She was immediately anxious, and wanted to do whatever she could to help, but short of running to get her father (which wasn't even a guarantee), she didn't know what she could do. She couldn't just step in and demand they let him go; especially not if they had a valid reason to hold him.

It was a taller, blond woman standing next to her that replied to her query. Madge recognized her as the florist's daughter, who was just a couple years older than her. "That one over there is Romulus Thread," she said, pointing to the Peacekeeper who was pushing Gale's face down into the dirt with a foot between his shoulder blades. The other one was restraining Gale's arms behind his back and keeping him from struggling. "He says he's our new Head Peacekeeper," the woman added, sounding scared.

Madge was shocked. Could that be true? In the case of something as significant as naming a new Head Peacekeeper, the Mayor's office had to be informed, but she hadn't heard anything about it before. Was that why her father had left the house so early and in such a hurry that morning? Could they really do that, send in a new Head Peacekeeper literally overnight? But why would they? What was so urgent? "But why are they punishing Gale Hawthorne? What did he do?" she questioned further.

"I don't know," the woman said, with a shake of her head. She was looking to the front instead of looking at Madge. "I think maybe when the Peacekeepers went into his house, someone was missing?" Everything seemed like conjecture at that point. "It was the same for the Baker's family," she added, pointing to the far right. Madge hadn't noticed them before, but there Peeta's mother and his brother Crispen stood, both being held by Peacekeepers. Neither looked happy, but they weren't struggling so there was no need to push them down like they did Gale.

Gale and the Mellarks... Katniss and Peeta. Her heart sank to her stomach. This was not good.

Almost as if answering her earlier question, Thread spoke up as he pushed Gale even harder into the ground with his foot. "Answer me. Where is Katniss Everdeen?" he demanded, his tone grave and his expression severe.

Gale's cheek was pressing harshly against the dirt and even so, he still tried his hardest to get loose. "I already told you, I don't know!" he growled as best he could. His teeth were grinding together, or maybe the ground simply didn't allow him to move his jaw, so it came out as a rough mumble. He had to be hurting, but if there was one thing she knew about Gale Hawthorne, it was that he would never betray Katniss's trust. They weren't going to get anything from him.

Thread took his foot off Gale's back and for one hopeful second, Madge thought they might let him go. But that didn't happen. Instead, the Head Peacekeeper crouched beside Gale's head, and grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head off the ground. Gale's back arched, and it was obviously painful.

"Gale Hawthorne," Thread started again, sounding strict. It startled Madge; it was almost like he was about to pronounce sentence. "Twenty-three years of age. Miner. Resides in the area of District Twelve known as the Seam. Father died in a mine explosion ten years ago. Lives with mother, single, washer woman, and three underage younger siblings..." he trailed off. He had pronounced every word very clearly, so that everybody could hear. It was nothing the people of Twelve didn't already know, but it was chilling. Somehow, Madge knew there was a threat hidden somewhere in his words.

She felt she might start crying. If there was anything that could make Gale confess, it was this: Thread was effectively pitting Katniss's secret against his family's well-being and she knew for him, it was the toughest decision he could ever make. It wasn't fair. "I'll ask you one last time," Thread proclaimed. "Where is Katniss Everdeen?"

"They ran off, okay?" Gale finally broke. Not that Madge could blame him; if her family was on the line, she would've done the same. Katniss and Peeta were already out of the district and would be harder targets to find than the Hawthorne kids. But then he surprised her when he continued. "Katniss couldn't stand to see her sister die, so her and Mellark ran off together. Katniss knows enough about plants to survive in the forest."

Madge frowned, obviously knowing that's not what really happened. Why would he make up a story like that? She got her answer when Thread let go of Gale and with a crisp "release him," let the other Peacekeeper know to let him go. He signaled the same to the two that were holding Peeta's family. "I want a permanent hovercraft sweep of the forest until they're found," he told the other three, and that's when Madge understood why Gale had done what he'd done: if they were looking in the forest, they wouldn't be looking in the direction of the Capitol.

"Everybody back to work!" Thread exclaimed, and immediately the crowd started to dissipate. The man had only been in Twelve for a few hours and everybody was already terrified of him. And she was, as well. As he was walking out of the square, Thread's eyes locked on hers for a moment and she felt her blood run cold.

She rushed to where they'd left Gale. He was already being helped up by Purnia. She was a Peacekeeper too, but she had worked in Twelve for quite a few years already, so she knew and was on good terms with most people. Two young men about Gale's age came up to them. From their clothes, she figured they were miners; probably Gale's friends. She saw Gale tell them something, and they took off in the direction of the Seam.

The Mellarks were walking away from the square, which she thought was odd. Wouldn't they want to know what else Gale knew about Peeta's sudden disappearance? Or at least, knowing Mrs. Mellark, she might want to scream in Gale's face until he took back the ridiculous notion that her son had run off with a girl from the Seam. But she didn't. Maybe she was in too much pain; surely it couldn't be comfortable for her to be forcibly dragged out of her house in her condition. She saw Crispen look back at Gale once, frowning, but other than that they just left without saying anything.

Purnia seemed surprised when Madge walked up to them, but otherwise made no comment. "Are you okay?" Madge asked, coming to stand beside Gale. As he turned toward her, she saw his right cheek was all scraped up. "You're bleeding," she gasped, immediately reaching for her pocket to offer him a handkerchief- but then she remembered it was in her briefcase, which she had left at home.

He waved off her concern anyway, pulling out a used rag from his own pocket to wipe the blood off his cheek. Madge cringed. She hoped he didn't use that piece of cloth to clean up at the mine; that would just be begging for an infection. "What happened? Why were they holding you if they were looking for Katniss?"

"I'm not sure," he said as he looked down at the rag in his hand. He frowned, and in Madge's opinion he looked more angry that he was bleeding than worried about it. "I was walking home when they grabbed me. They let us off work so we could be interrogated. I guess they must've gone to Katniss's place and found it empty, and maybe the neighbors told them I'd be the most likely to know where she was. Next thing I know I'm being dragged all the way here."

He folded the piece of cloth and put it back in his pocket. His cheek was no longer bleeding but the scratches were an angry red color. "The Mellarks couldn't tell them anything, but they're blonde and blue-eyed, so they took it out on me instead," he added in a mutter.

Madge hoped that was just a general comment and that it wasn't directed at her. She didn't think there was any conceivable reason for him to be mad at her at this point, but you never knew with Gale Hawthorne; sometimes his resentment extended to anyone and anything. But even if it was directed at her, she knew better than to rise to the taunt. "Purnia," she turned to the female Peacekeeper instead, "is it true that Thread is our new Head Peacekeeper? How is that possible? And why wasn't my father informed weeks ago?"

"He is," Purnia replied. "I don't know why it happened so fast, but Cray was recalled back to Headquarters last night. Thread took charge this morning. First thing he did was order us to make sure everyone in the district was accounted for."

"Gave himself a nice little 'Welcome to District Twelve' present," Gale grumbled again, as he rolled his shoulders back and forth, cringing a little when the muscles pulled too hard. With the way he'd been struggling and the tough hold that Peacekeeper had on him, it was a miracle he hadn't ended up with a dislocated shoulder.

Purnia turned to him, an almost reproachful expression in her face. "Next time that happens, just tell him what he wants to know. It'll be better for you in the long run." She wasn't that much older than them, maybe ten years or so, but something in her tone made Madge think she sounded like a mother reprimanding her son. She wondered if this wasn't the first time she'd helped Gale after a scrape. "He'll be watching you now. Don't give him an excuse."

She looked at both of them in turn. "And it will happen again," she assured them, serious. "Things are going to start getting ugly around here," she added. Then she looked around, almost like she wanted to make sure nobody could overhear. A few people were still walking away from the square. She leaned in a little and whispered: "No one has heard from Darius since the day of the Reaping."

Madge's eyes widened. Darius had disappeared? And Purnia was clearly hinting that it was Capitol-related- but why? Because he was lenient with Katniss? She didn't even want to imagine what they could do to him. Darius was a good man. He didn't deserve to be punished for helping someone, but clearly, the Capitol did not consider leniency a good thing. Especially on a live broadcast.

A quick glance at Gale let her know he was as shaken by this as she was. Purnia gave them both one last, significant glance, and turned to leave the square. Madge wrapped her arms around her torso protectively. "I feel nauseous," she admitted. She was sure her face was turning green, so she might as well. "Whatever they did to Darius... that's what they'll do to Katniss, isn't it?" she asked in a small voice.

"They'll have to find her first," he asserted, apparently having recovered from the shock of Purnia's news. He continued to check himself for injuries, this time taking a look at his wrists, which were very red from the pressure exerted on them.

Whether he really believed Katniss could escape the Capitol's punishment or he was only trying to convince himself of that, she wasn't sure. But it didn't make her feel any less scared. "That's what they could do to us," she pointed out. If they couldn't find Katniss and Peeta, and they needed a fall guy, they were right at their hands, and already in too deep.

He scoffed, as he usually did when she as much as implied their situations were in any way comparable. "Please. You're the daughter of the Mayor. They're not gonna do anything to you."

"Well, who knows what they did to Darius, and he was one of them," she was quick to remind him. When it came to taking down potential threats, the Capitol had no scruples. Any and everybody was expendable, so long as the Capitol stood. She knew, she knew more than he ever would, more than anyone, that if the Capitol had their eye on you, they'd take you out whether you gave them a reason or not. There was no need to make things worse. "He threatened your family. Gale, we have to be careful," she added.

"That's it," he almost barked at her all of a sudden. Apparently now she had said something that made him angry, she just wasn't sure what it was. "You have to get off this 'we' thing. There's no 'we.' We're not... partners, okay? This isn't a school project."

His tone shook her, of course- she wasn't used to people being so harsh to her- but it was more his choice of words that made her pause. "Partner" was a word Katniss often used to refer to Gale. For a long time she thought it was because she was too shy to admit they were friends, or maybe something more. (Her and Katniss didn't talk about boys. Madge knew on her side that was because she had no boys whatsoever in her life to talk about, but she'd always thought Katniss did, even if she was very private about it). But after the way they spoke to each other the day of the Reaping at Katniss's house, the way they seemed to understand what the other meant with just a glance, she was beginning to think "partners" meant more than just "not quite boyfriend" and certainly held a special significance to them both. That's what he was telling her: she was no Katniss.

Was that what she'd really been doing? Had she been thinking of her and Gale as some sort of "team" because they were the only ones around who knew about Katniss and Peeta? That was silly. Gale Hawthorne was not her friend. Gale Hawthorne wasn't anything to her, and would never even want to be. Still, with this entire situation with Katniss, and now Purnia's warning, thinking of all the possible consequences was so utterly terrifying for her that the idea of having to keep it together on her own almost paralyzed her. "You were the one who came to my house yesterday," she tried to rebuff. Maybe she only said it to make herself feel less like a wuss.

He didn't seem to notice she was upset at all. Instead he just glared at her and muttered: "Fat load of good it did."

"That wasn't my fault," she replied. Here she was, on the edge of hyperventilation, and his comments could still make her feel even weaker than she already did. She wished she could stand up for herself, sound determined and in control like Katniss would, but she couldn't. Best she could manage was keeping her voice from faltering. "And all I meant was, everything that happens with Katniss affects us both. So if you could have the common courtesy of not getting yourself killed or worse, that would be great, because I can't handle that on top of everything else."

The words came out with more force toward the end, but she knew it was not out of strength, but out of anxiety. Knowing that it wouldn't do for her to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the town square when nothing had even really happened yet, she tried to calm down. She took a deep breath and ran a hand over her face. Her hand was shaking and that, it seemed, he noticed. "I can take care of myself," he said, eyeing her carefully, almost warily, like she was a bomb about to go off, or worse: start crying.

He wasn't too far off. "I know," she conceded. She was still trying to regain her composure so every time she spoke it came out as an exhalation. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just- I had just been talking to Darius the morning of the Reaping..." she sighed. "I feel sick to my stomach," she repeated, underlining how upset she was. She shouldn't have apologized- he had goaded her, after all- but years of conditioning to always be polite made it a reflex. And maybe he was just on edge because he was worried about Katniss. She understood the feeling. "That was quick thinking, by the way," she added. "That whole thing about them running off together."

He grimaced a little, then shrugged. "It's what Mellark told his family," he said, almost like it pained him to admit it. Things made more sense knowing that. She figured Peeta hadn't come up with the "running off into the woods" part, else his mother or brother would've said something about it when they were questioned, but they did have some idea that he'd escaped the district with a girl, even if they didn't know that girl was Katniss.

"What I'm wondering is how the Peacekeepers found out," Gale continued speaking. For a moment he seemed to be about to cross his arms, but thought better of it, probably because it hurt. "I mean, I know it wasn't me. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't Rory either. He's barely spoken at all this week." He frowned at this, pensive, then turned to her. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

She shook her head. "No," she assured him. Considering she felt so overwhelmed by just keeping the secret, and so nervous because of the lack of news, she'd been doing her best to avoid even looking into people's eyes for the last couple of days. "But if the three of us are the only ones who know, I can't think of any way that they could have..." But suddenly it hit her that there was one other person they had talked to about this, and all the blood drained from her face.

This time, he noticed straight away. "What is it?" he asked, immediately alert.

"The call," she whispered breathlessly, heart starting to pound crazily again, and she could see it begin to dawn on Gale from his expression. "It's the only time we've talked about this with someone else overhearing. That has to be it, there's no other way."

"You think Abernathy ratted us out to the Capitol?" he asked. He didn't sound like he bought that idea.

"Maybe? No," she started somewhat shakily, but then rectified her position. "No. I mean, he was so abrupt. That night I thought he was just drunk, but now I'm thinking maybe he meant to cut me off. If he was going to report it, wouldn't he have wanted me to further incriminate myself?"

"So, what, your phone is bugged?" he asked, immediately falling toward the only other option, which, of course, was the one she was trying really hard not to think about.

"Or my house," she added, choking on the words. Admitting this was really hard for her. Knowing that her every move could be overheard or even watched within the walls of her house- how could she ever feel safe in there again? And how horrible was that, to not feel safe in one's own home? Did her father know about the surveillance? Did he even suspect? And if he did, how could he stand it? She didn't know how she could live like this, and she'd only just found out. She couldn't imagine living with that risk for years.

But the worst part of it was the guilt. She thought of Gale being roughly pushed down against the ground, interrogated like a criminal in front of the whole district. She thought of the look Thread had given her as he left the square, understanding now that it meant she was being watched as much as Gale was. She thought about Katniss and Peeta, trying their hardest to save Prim without knowing they were already being hunted. And it was all because of one simple, idiotic mistake on her part.

The words started coming out without her even realizing it. "This is my fault," she breathed out, dismayed. "I should never have made that call. What was I even thinking?" She grew more and more distressed with every sentence. "I even said I was calling because of a friend! Katniss is my only friend, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. I am so stupid..."

"Look, it's done," Gale interrupted her self-deprecating tirade, clearly already in a lousy mood even without it. "Right now, they don't know they're headed to the Capitol. That gives them a good head start." She nodded, thankful that he had the presence of mind to troubleshoot even before knowing what exactly the cause of the problem was. "I gotta go. I have to get cleaned up before I head home," he said, signaling to his scraped-up cheek and his clothes, which were covered in dirt.

He turned to leave and since the crowd had dissipated completely by then, she stood there holding herself, watching him walk away as she waited for her shaking to subside. But she knew very well "it's done" did not mean "it's alright," and he knew she'd messed up just as much as she did. "Gale," she called out and even from a few yards away, he heard her and looked back to see what she wanted. She paused for a moment before asking: "Did I just ruin everything for them?"

He kept silent for a while, and it felt excruciating for her because she was hanging onto this one answer like her sanity depended on it. And it probably did. Part of her wished he would just lie, tell her it was an honest mistake and that everything would be okay anyway. But she knew he wouldn't. And he didn't. "Go home. You look like you're about to faint," was what he said, and though his bluntness bothered her, at least it was something she could count on. She appreciated that he didn't slam her even further down, at least.

She went back only for a minute, to pick up her briefcase and the stack of documents she'd left on the porch. Unlike the mines, her father's office had not closed for the day because of the interrogation. As she walked in an hour later than she should have, her father took one look at her and asked what was wrong. She didn't tell him about the scene at the square; he probably knew that Thread was launching a door-to-door operation and he was sure to get a report with the results of the questioning anyway. If he came across Katniss's name and asked her about it, she'd just go with Gale's "they ran off into the woods" story. In the meantime, she just didn't want to think about any of it. She felt bad enough as it was.

She claimed a massive headache, and she sounded so eerily like her mother, her father was ushering her back home before she even finished speaking. So she left all the paperwork on her desk and headed back. She didn't want to be inside her house- even just crossing the threshold made her skin crawl- but she had nowhere else to go. She spent the rest of the morning sitting on her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest like she used to do when she was little and scared, either wiping away silent tears, or examining every inch of her room like she was expecting to find someone staring back at her. When Grethel came up to ask if she wanted some lunch, she simply shook her head, not feeling in the mood to eat or even talk to anyone.

Eventually when she began to feel thirsty, probably from crying so much, she figured she couldn't stay in her room forever, and decided to go downstairs to get a glass of water. Every muscle in her legs protested as she got up from her bed; she had sat without moving for hours. She walked out to the hallway, finding it as quiet as it usually was. And precisely because it was so quiet, she heard the murmur of the television as she walked past the closed door to her father's study.

She knew what the sound meant: the closed-circuit system had come alive on its own, presenting whoever was around to watch with a news report the Capitol deemed urgent. These reports were meant to be confidential, but her father had never been particularly concerned with keeping his study private. If it really was life-or-death intel, the government had other methods to making sure it was delivered for his eyes only. She remembered telling Gale just a couple days ago that there was information she had no access to.

This report, whatever it was, she could watch freely. Her father had never minded before. She had the key to the room, after all. She should watch it. Any information she could get was welcome. It could be about Katniss, or maybe it could at least help Katniss somehow. She had to watch it.

She pulled her house keys out of her pocket (she hadn't bothered changing out of her clothes when she came home) and took the right key to the lock. Swallowing her apprehension at the prospect of being in that room again- where she knew for certain she could be heard, maybe even watched by some faceless internal security person in the Capitol- she pushed the door open and walked inside until she was facing the flat screen.

She was greeted with the image of something like a plaza or a town square. Not District Twelve's, clearly, but somewhat similar in shape, if not size. This one seemed to be a lot bigger. Instead of dirt and coal dust, the ground was sparsely covered by drying grass, like the type that was found at the meadow.

Rows of Peacekeepers bordered the square, all of them lined up in strict formation and holding their rifles, as if ready to start shooting at the slightest sign of a disturbance. She didn't know who they would shoot, though, as the square looked completely deserted of civilian population. The only people around were those the Peacekeepers were escorting, or more like pushing, across the square and toward a large building in the back, which she guessed was that district's version of the Justice Building.

The title and subtitle of the news report were displayed at the bottom of the screen, the usual bright white lettering against a red band with a "Capitol News" logo to the left side, letting her know just what exactly she was watching:

Martial law in effect in District Eleven. Interrogations will continue until culprit found.

Her hands shook so badly, she dropped her keys, which rattled as they hit the ground. Immediately her mind went to Romulus Thread and the scene in the Town Square that morning. Surely it couldn't be a coincidence that they were assigned a new Head Peacekeeper at the same time Eleven went under martial law. But why? And could this affect Katniss and Peeta's plan?

She didn't know what was happening, but there was one thing she was sure of, now more than ever... Purnia was right: things were going to start getting ugly. She had a feeling this one horrible morning was just the start of many horrible days to come.

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Author's notes!-

Oh, Madgey. -hugs- I hope she didn't come across as weak here... she'll get her moment to shine in the future, but right now the point of the chapter was to show that she's scared. At this point, all of them are aware of the consequences of what they're doing, but Madge is the only one who actually knows. So she's really freakin' terrified. More on the reasons why, coming in the future.

Props and a virtual cookie to finnicodairyouare, who was the only person to recognize the Cranberries lyrics used last chapter: "With their tanks and their bombs, and their bombs and their guns" from their song Zombie (paraphrased, of course). Also, something I forgot to mention the last time: as of chapter 12, Ricochet is over 50K words long, and officially the longest fanfic I've ever written. Which is saying a lot, because I've been on this site since forever and y'all know how long-winded I am! ^^;;;

I got less reviews than usual for last chapter. I hope that doesn't mean you're not liking the plot, guys! =( I choose to believe you all were busy on Mother's Day weekend, instead. I should warn you, though, that the next chapter might take me a little bit longer than normal... I'm coming up to the point where I stopped planning in detail, so before I start writing 21, I have to sit down and extend my current outline a little further. That should take me a few days, so you may not see a new chapter next week. If you review, however, it might encourage me to work faster! -hinthint- ;)