CHAPTER 9

PART I

Katniss and I stood in the mess hall, our eyes glued to the view screen suspended from the ceiling, and listened as Johanna Mason denounced the Rebellion.

"Johanna," Caesar Flickerman said, enunciating every word the carefully, "let me see if I understand you correctly. Are you calling for a cease-fire?"

Johanna's head turned slightly until she was looking directly at the camera. She looked pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks slightly sunken in, and I noticed tell-tale marks on her face…the fading remains of cuts and abrasions that even the best Capitol medicine and the most skilled Prep Team couldn't completely erase. I noticed something else as well…a slightly flickering of her eyes, as though she was shooting quick, furtive glances at something…or someone…off-camera.

"Yes, Caesar," Johanna said with a nod. "That's exactly what I am doing. Every Rebel, no matter where you are, you need to lay down your – "

That's all I was able to hear, as the mess hall erupted in a chorus of angry shouts, mostly consisting of suggestions for Johanna to perform physically impossible sexual acts, if not calling for her outright execution. I quickly glanced at Katniss to get her reaction, and I was not surprised by her look of total shock as Johanna spoke. I turned to say something to her, but before I could speak, a large hand descended on my shoulder, gripping it firmly.

"Come on, you two," Boggs said, as he deftly manuevered us out of the mess hall. "We have a hovercraft to catch." And, as Boggs herded us toward the West Hangar, I was finally able to speak, now that we were away from the cacophony of the mess hall.

"Looks like Snow is trying to match Plutarch propo for propo."

"I can't believe it," Katniss muttered. "Johanna hates the Capitol and despises Snow! Why would she suddenly turn traitor?"

"Did you notice her eyes?" I asked. "She kept looking at something off-camera. I think she was being coerced."

"Coerced or not," Boggs said as we entered the elevator and he slammed the cage door shut, "statements like that won't be looked at favorably by Coin once this is all over. She'll likely face a tribunal."

"Even if she's being forced?" Katniss asks sharply.

"Even then," Boggs replies calmly as the elevator jerks to a start. "And that's the last time you two hit the mess hall right before we leave for an op. From now on, you fill your canteens in your quarters. I need you to concentrate on the mission in Ten, not worrying about Johanna Mason. Got that?"

We both muttered our agreement as the elevator continued to rise. But that didn't stop me from convincing myself that Johanna Mason was being forced to say the things that she had said.

I leaned over and tapped Finnick on the knee to get his attention. "Hey, soldier," I said with a grin. "How are you holding up?"

Finnick twisted around in the web jump seat. "Okay," he replied softly. He clutched his specialty weapon tightly in his hands…a customized, powered trident. A short-barreled carbine, identical to my weapon, was slung across his chest. "Don't worry about me," he added. "Anything's better than sitting around that hospital doing nothing. And this is one step closer to Annie."

The hovercraft lurched slightly as it flew through a pocket of turbulence. "I'm sure she's okay, Finnick," Katniss said reassuringly. "Snow wouldn't dare do anything to her."

"She's alive," Finnick replied. "But I doubt that she's 'okay.'"

I patted Finnick on the shoulder. I didn't know what else to say.

Katniss unbuckled herself and slipped onto the jump seat next to Finnick. She bent her head close to his and began talking to him in a low voice, and soon she was able to coax a smile out of him. In minutes they were laughing like a pair of girls at a sleepover. Katniss and Finnick shared a bond that I could never hope to understand…the bond forged in their mutual forced prostitution by President Snow. I simply smiled, leaned back in my seat, and occupied myself with examining the rest of the team on the hovercraft.

Our old team had some new members. Familiar faces such as Boggs, Jackson, Mitchell, Homes, and the Leeg sisters had been augmented by some new muscle…namely Madge Undersee, Rory Hawthorne, July Barrow, and my old nemesis, one Staff Sergeant (and former Drill Sergeant) Duffy. Needless to say, I was less than pleased to see him join our team. Boggs had explained that Duffy had been lobbying to join an active combat unit for quite some time, and assured me that he and Jackson would make sure that Duffy was assigned duties that would limit his interaction with either myself or Katniss.

"Ten minutes out," the pilot's voice crackled in my earpiece. I craned my head around toward the small window set high in the hovercraft bulkhead and tried to get my first look at District Ten from the air. It was pretty disappointing. Flat grazing land stretched out in every direction. I tried to remember what Ten had been like from my Victory Tour stop, but the only thing that immediately came to mind was the musty, earthy smell that seemed to permeate everything in the district. I shouldn't be too critical, however. According to Effie Trinket, District Twelve hadn't smelled all that great either.

I could assure her that it smells a great deal worse now.

"Welcome to One-Seventeen."

The speaker had been introduced to us as General Lucius Beck of the District Ten Free Militia. He was a large, florid-faced man who wore a strange, broad-brimmed hat with a single five-pointed star pinned to the front. And I got the distinct impression that he wasn't all that impressed with either Katniss or me.

"Thank you, General," Boggs replied smoothly as he extended his hand. "Boggs, Chief of Security for District Thirteen."

Beck shook his hand perfunctorily. "Colonel." He peered past Boggs at the rest of the security detachment. "These your glamour soldiers?"

I noticed Boggs' jaw muscles tighten almost imperceptibly, but he showed no other reaction to Beck's insulting attitude. "Squad Four Fifty-One, under the command of Lieutenant Jackson." Jackson stepped forward and nodded her head once. "They're here to provide security for our Victors."

Beck examined the three of us…myself, Katniss, and Finnick…distastefully. "Colonel, I want to reiterate my opposition to this dog and pony show of yours. I'm tryin' to bring One-Seventeen under control, and this is a distraction that I don't need."

I frowned slightly in confusion and glanced at Katniss, mouthing the words "Dog and pony?" Katniss's only response was a single shake of her head and a quick shrug of her shoulders. Neither of us saw either dogs or ponies when we arrived here.

Boggs ignored the strange comment. "Understood and noted," he said smoothly. "And I'll remind you now that your continued support from District Thirteen, as well as District Eight, depends on your willing and cheerful support of our 'dog and pony' show."

Beck's face clouded, and, for a moment, it appeared as though he was going to say something, until he made a "follow me" gesture with his hand and spun on his heel. "Come on," he grumbled. "I'll bring you up to speed on our situation here."

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath as we trotted after him.

"Say again, Peeta?" Haymitch's voice crackled in my earpiece. Once again, he was orbiting above us in a stealth hovercraft.

"Nothing," I said, as clearly as possible.

"That's what I thought you said," Haymitch said cheerfully. "Listen, you two. Stay alert. This area is not secured and it's still an active combat zone."

As if to punctuate his remarks, Katniss, Finnick and I all flinched at the sudden rattle of gunfire coming from, at the most, two hundred meters to our front. The gunfire was punctuated by several quick explosions.

"Copy that," I replied dryly as we followed Beck into a ramshackle building. Time to find out just how well the war was progressing here in Ten.

PART II

I had envisioned Rail Hub One-Seventeen to look something like the train stations that I had become familiar with during my Victory Tour…a passenger terminal, perhaps, with some warehouses for freight, and a half-dozen or so loading docks. I couldn't have been more wrong.

There was all that, of course…but on a huge scale. One-Seventeen was a town in its own right. Stock pens that could hold hundreds of cattle. Slaughterhouses that covered acres. Huge walk-in freezers that were still operating, thanks to the solar panels on their roofs. District Twelve had just two rail lines running through its terminal. This one rail hub alone had eight.

And, unlike the beaten, desperate Peacekeepers that we had seen in District Eight, the ones fighting here in Ten were motivated, disciplined, well equipped, and still had plenty of fight left in them. There was a good reason for this. District Eight produced clothing and textiles. Ten produced food. Beef, pork, lamb, goat, chicken, duck, turkey, rabbit…virtually every gram of animal protein sold in Panem comes from District Ten. The Capitol could do without the latest fashions. They couldn't do without food. And neither could the Peacekeepers that were fighting for them.

On top of all that, the Rebel forces were exercising great care to not damage the facilities here, whereas the Peacekeepers had no problem with shelling buildings and choking the narrow streets of One-Seventeen with rubble. This hub may have been critical to the Rebellion, and to the districts to the east…but it was probably the least important to the Capitol. And the fact that the Capitol was willing to expend Peacekeepers to deny One-Seventeen to the Rebels rather than to simply bomb it from the air was pretty revealing in itself…it told us that they didn't have hovercraft to risk in a bombing campaign.

That meant one thing. The combined forces of Districts Eight, Ten, and Thirteen would have to dig out the Peacekeepers, one block at a time, and do it quickly, while there was still enough of Rail Hub One-Seventeen left to use.

"Stay frosty, Bravo Team," Staff Sergeant Duffy barked. His team…Bravo Team…was tasked with covering our rear. I glanced behind me and saw that our rear security was, indeed, "frosty." Madge, Rory, and July were constantly scanning the buildings that we passed, looking for any signs of possible ambush or attack from the rear.

I felt pretty confident that we weren't going to be surprised. A block behind Bravo, an entire platoon was carefully clearing the buildings, and, so far, had found nothing. The battle was up ahead. We could hear it distinctly and it got louder with each block that we passed.

Both sides of the street were dominated by squat, sprawling three-story buildings. The District Ten liaison, a young militiaman who had introduced himself as Tomas, had explained that these were slaughterhouses, butcher shops, and packing plants all rolled into one.

"I don't know what would be worse," Katniss muttered as she and I walked closely together. "Working the mines and being buried alive all day, or working in one of these buildings and having to stand ankle deep in blood all day."

"How about neither?" I shifted my grip on my carbine slightly.

"I second that," Finnick chimed in. "After all this is over, you two come live in District Four. You'll love it there."

Katniss and I chuckled, earning a dirty look from Messalla. "Come on, you guys," he said, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice. "I need you to all look grimly determined. Can you do that? And Katniss, can you fit an arrow to your bow? You need to look like you're expecting trouble any second."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "'Grimly determined?'" She fixed a scowl on her face as she drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it to the bowstring. "How's this?"

"You look pissed, Katniss," Finnick pointed out as I laughed. I glanced at Messalla, who was definitely not looking pleased with us at all.

"Shit," he muttered. Louder, he said, "Katniss, quick screwing – "

The sudden roar of large engines coming from a side street to our left drowned out whatever Messalla said next. At the same time, I heard someone shout "Cover, cover, cover!" through my earpiece. Once again, the combat drills that Duffy had hammered into me paid off and I immediately went to ground, even as a deafening explosion thundered above my head.

Chunks of brick and concrete rained down on us, and I cursed the fact that Katniss, Finnick, and I were bare-headed, while our escort all wore helmets. Messalla had said that we would stand out in the propos better…Katniss with her long, single braid of dark hair, me with my blonde hair, and Finnick with his unruly auburn shock…but right now, I just covered my head with my arms and hoped for the best.

"Assault gun!" someone yelled as the engines grew louder and real fear gripped my belly. Our unit was dismounted, moving through this section of One-Seventeen on foot. I looked up as another explosion further up the street echoed off the buildings, just in time to see three assault guns burst from a side street, their cannons booming as their machine guns raked the positions of the Rebel forces.

Instinctively, I raised my carbine and triggered off a burst at the lead gun, knowing that the best I could hope for was to maybe interfere with the gunner's aim. Even as I was shooting, I saw Katniss rise up to a kneeling position and raise her bow, the arrow that she had nocked a moment earlier now drawn back as she aimed and let the arrow fly in a single smooth motion.

"Katniss!" Finnick shouted. "What – "

I'll probably never know if Katniss deliberately chose one of her explosive arrows or not. No matter. The arrow struck the lead gun square in the front grill and exploded, causing the front end of the heavily armed Peacekeeper truck to actually rise off the ground before settling back on its wheels as it ground to a stop. I could hear myself letting out a triumphant shout that quickly died on my lips as the gun turret slewed around towards where the three of us were hunkered down, and I realized with dismay that Katniss had stopped the truck from moving, but the guns were still as deadly as ever.

"Come on!" Finnick leapt to his feet, his trident clutched in one hand, and ran past Katniss, grabbing her with his free hand and whirling her around, pulling her after him. "There!" he shouted as I joined them in their dash toward the building to our rear, the sound of the battle now a continuous roar in my ears.

"Where are you?" Haymitch's voice cut through the cacophony of gunfire and explosions as the three of us burst through the first door we came across. "Katniss! Peeta! Finnick! One of you report in!"

"In…in a building," I managed to gasp out as I tried not to gag from the smell. Even though this building had not been used in a while, the coppery smell of blood still hung in the air. I then noticed that we weren't the only ones to find cover in here. Rebel soldiers from all three districts were even now beginning to return fire through broken windows and holes in the walls, but I knew it was futile…their small arms were no match for the sudden onslaught of Peacekeeper assault guns.

"What building?" Haymitch asked anxiously, his voice rising an octave.

"Fuck if I know!" I barked, ducking once more as a rain of debris showered down from above.

"Boggs here." Even in the heat of battle, Boggs sounded calm and collected. "It's the building directly across the side street where those assault guns came from." I looked around until I spotted him, crouched behind a conveyor belt used to transport freshly slaughtered livestock to the second floor.

"Copy that," Haymitch's voice replied. "Tac air is on the way. There's some sort of loading platform on the other side of the building. Make your way there and signal us when you're clear, and we'll pick you up."

"I'll get 'em there," Boggs promised.

"No, you won't." Katniss's voice came through my earpiece very clearly. "We stay and fight. This is our war too, Haymitch!"

She was absolutely right. If the Victors cut and ran from this battle, what message would it send to the rest of the Rebels, and, more importantly, to the districts that weren't completely committed to the fight? I looked over at her, one side of her face bloody from a gash in her forehead, and smiled grimly. She was sandwiched between Finnick and I, and Finnick was actually laughing as bullets cracked over our heads and explosions continued to rain debris down on us.

"Now listen here, Sweetheart. Don't go playin' hero! Now, I'm tellin' you – "

Haymitch's voice was suddenly cut off as Katniss reached out and plucked my earpiece from my ear and dropped it to the floor, before she did the same with her own earpiece. She turned to Finnick to do the same, but he beat her to it, and for good measure he ground his into the floor with the heel of his boot. Katniss smiled and carefully laid her bow on the floor as she reached a hand out to both of us, grasping our hands tightly in hers.

"Together?" she asked.

Finnick and I nodded. "Together," we echoed.

Katniss released our hands and snatched up her bow. "Come on." She ran in a half-crouch to a row of windows facing the street, and, as Finnick and I followed her, we got our first look at the battle. I could see right away that it wasn't going well for the Rebels.

The assault gun that Katniss had stopped was now silent and on fire. The Rebels weren't completely helpless against an armored foe and had returned fire with small, disposable rocket launchers. The only problem was that the other two assault guns had been joined by at least six standard Peacekeeper transports, and they were laying down a wicked base of fire while dismounted Peacekeepers cautiously advanced.

"I distinctly heard Haymitch tell you all to evacuate." Boggs' voice made me jump. I was so intent on what was happening with the Peacekeepers outside that I didn't even hear him come up to us from behind. Like Katniss, he was bleeding from a gash to his head. He seemed to not notice.

"Well, that's not happening," Katniss said flatly as she carefully fitted another explosive-tipped arrow to her bow.

"I can see that," Boggs replied. He turned and motioned for our security squad. "Soldier Everdeen," he began formally, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Finnick stepped between Katniss and Boggs. "The hard way," he said with a grin as he hefted his trident. "Right, Peeta?"

I, too, stepped forward to shield Katniss. "Right, Finnick."

"Be reasonable, Katniss," Boggs said calmly. "If something happens to any one of you three, Coin will take it out of my ass."

Katniss didn't even turn around. "Messalla, are you getting all this?"

"We're recording, Katniss," Messalla called back. Until that moment, I hadn't even realized that he, along with Castor and Pollux, had made it into the building.

"For the record," Katniss called out, "The three Victors are acting independently. We've been advised by Colonel Boggs of the danger. We choose to stay willingly. Got that?"

"Got it," Messalla acknowledged.

"Good," Katniss replied. "And Messalla? If we get killed, make sure you get it on camera, okay?"

"Will do."

Katniss turned to Boggs. "All right, Boggs. Satisfied?"

Boggs snorted and shook his head, flinching slightly as another explosion rocked the building. "Put your exploder away," he ordered. "Not enough explosive to punch through a Peacekeeper truck side armor. Use your incendiaries instead."

"What good will that do?" Katniss asked, even as she complied. "Armor won't burn."

"No," replied Boggs with a grin, "but it'll make it nice and hot inside those trucks, now, won't it?"

Katniss didn't reply as she let her first arrow fly. A second later, a fiery flower bloomed against the side of an assault gun. Quickly she fired again, and again, and again, incendiary arrows flying as fast as she could shoot them. They had their desired effect. The vehicles slowed, then stopped, as the crews began evacuating them, overcome by the intense heat.

"Perfect," Boggs said. "Tac air is on the way. And the Peacekeepers aren't sure where your arrows are coming from." He squeezed Katniss's shoulder. "There's no firing signature from a bow." He turned and gestured to us. "Come on. Time to relocate. They'll figure out soon enough where the fire's coming from, and we don't want to be there when they do."

Hunkering down low, we trotted after Boggs, trying to ignore the bullets cracking over our heads. We also tried, and failed, to ignore the growing number of Rebel bodies accumulating on the floor, adding the smell of their fresh blood to the cloying odor that already hung heavy in the building. One thing was sure…we couldn't stay in here much longer.

"Where did they all come from?" I asked, as I trotted next to Boggs.

"Not sure," he grunted. "Liaison thinks possibly underground. Some of the older buildings were built with large cold cellars. Been years since they used them that way. Most of the time they were forgotten. All I know for sure is, our eyes in the sky say that one second the side streets were clear, and the next…assault guns were firing at us."

"What does it matter?" Katniss snapped. "They're there, that's the only thing that matters right now. And we – "

A new burst of fire outside was almost immediately followed by cries of pain to our rear. I skidded to a stop and whirled around. A District Ten militia squad had been bringing up the rear and had taken the brunt of fire from this new hail of bullets. More than half were on the floor, bleeding from the places where Peacekeeper bullets had punctured their flesh. And I instantly realized that there weren't enough of them left on their feet to drag away all their wounded.

I didn't hesitate. I turned and ran as fast as my prosthetic leg would carry me back to where the militia squad was sprawled out on the floor, ignoring the shouts from Boggs, Katniss, and Finnick. I homed in on a young militia fighter who was desperately trying, and failing, to stand up on legs bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds. He was a big, awkward looking kid that, as I drew closer, strongly reminded me of Husker, my big ally from District Nine that I had watched die, and that fueled my determination to save this kid even more.

I skidded to a stop beside him and dropped to my knees. The floor under him was slick with his blood. "It hurts," he moaned, his eyes clenched tightly shut. "It hurts so bad…"

I slung my carbine across my back. "I know," I said gently. I slid my hands under his arms and squatted, trying to pull him up, but the kid…he couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen…didn't budge. He was too big for me to pick up on my own and there wasn't any help nearby.

"Need a hand?" I glanced up when I heard Katniss's voice. I should have known that she would come after me. And I also knew that there was really nothing that she could do to help.

"Yeah," I grunted. "Where's Finnick?"

Katniss jerked her head to one side. "Over there." Out of the corner of my eye I could see Finnick carrying a female militia soldier to safety. "He's like you. Mr. Lone Wolf Hero."

"So says the girl that takes on assault guns with her bow," I replied with a grim laugh. "Katniss, go back and send Mitchell or Homes over to help me with this kid. He's too big even for both of us."

The kid's eyes suddenly snapped open and he stared up at us in surprise. "Katniss?" The word came out almost reverently. "Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark?"

"I'll get some help," Katniss said. She looked down at the kid on the floor and smiled. "You just lie still. You'll be okay. I promise."

As Katniss trotted off, the kid looked up at me, wonder in his eyes. "Katniss Everdeen just talked to me," he said, his voice tinged with amazement. "And Peeta Mellark came to help me."

"And why shouldn't I?" Behind me I heard excited shouts of "They're falling back! They're falling back!" I ignored the shouts as I clumsily applied bandages to his bleeding legs.

The kid jerked and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as another spasm of pain tore through his body. "General Beck…he said it was our job to protect you. Not…not the other way around."

"Well, soldiers help each other out. That's what we do." I glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps to see Mitchell running toward me. Good. Between us we would have no problem carrying this kid to the makeshift aid station that was being set up against the far wall.

"Everdeen sent me," he said simply. Mitchell had always been a man of few words.

"Great," I replied as I stood up. "He's too big for me to carry on my own."

"I'll take his legs," Mitchell said as he squatted down and grasped the kid's ankles, ignoring his moans of pain.

"Sorry," Mitchell muttered. "No easy way to do this."

"It's okay," the kid gasped as I grabbed him under his arms. Together, Mitchell and I lifted him off the bloody floor.

"What's happening over there?" I asked, as we began to slowly and awkwardly make our way back to the others.

"Not sure," Mitchell grunted. "Peacekeepers suddenly fell back. Doesn't make any sense. They friggin' had our balls in a vise."

At this, the kid's eyes snapped open again. "They fell back?"

"Yeah," Mitchell said. "Ceased fire and fell back."

"Shit." That one word was filled with fear. "That means that – "

I never heard what the kid…I never learned his name…said that meant. The next sound I heard was a loud fluttering sound, a chuff, chuff, chuff, chuff sound coming from directly over my head. I had just enough time to glance up, hear someone shout "Incoming!", and watched as the roof of the cavernous building suddenly bloomed into impossibly huge, red blossoms of pure fire.

And the world then fell on top of me.

PART III

"Give me an update, doctor."

That voice! So familiar…but where am I? I struggled to regain consciousness, but even opening my eyes was a monumental task.

"Cracked ribs, various cuts and abrasions, and a severe concussion. Otherwise he's in pretty decent shape, sir."

A new voice now. "Doctor, he's coming around."

"Excellent," the first voice said. "Leave us."

"President Snow – "

President Snow? Where am I? A sudden spasm of fear gripped my belly. This is not good. Not good at all!

"Now, doctor. I will summon you shortly."

A pause. "Yes, Mr. President." I could hear the sound of a door open, then close, followed by a scraping sound.

"Casca. Spartacus. Wait outside. I'll call for you shortly. I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Yes, sir." Another sound of a door opening, then closing.

I could feel a warm breath on my cheek, accompanied by the overwhelming odor of blood and roses. "Open your eyes, Mr. Mellark."

Shit. It is Snow! But how?

"I know you can hear me. Open your eyes. Now!"

Reluctantly, I forced my eyes open. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus, my head swimming with pain. Well, the one voice did say that I had a severe concussion.

"That's better," the Snow-voice purred.

At first, all I could see was a bright light directly over my head. With effort, I turned toward the sound of the voice, and saw a too-familiar mane of snow-white hair come into view. I frowned, forcing my eyes to focus on the image swimming before me. I was finally able to make out the lined face, the beard surrounding thick, puffy lips, now stretched across the face in a cruel smile.

"How?" I managed to croak.

Snow chuckled unpleasantly. "Your little foray into District Ten was an abject failure, Mr. Mellark. You were discovered by my Peacekeepers in a shelled-out building. You could scarcely imagine my unbridled joy when I received the report that you were still alive."

"I'm sure," I muttered.

Snow actually looked hurt. "Please, Mr. Mellark. My boy, I like you. I actually do. I shed real tears when I thought that you had perished along with so many of your comrades. No, my boy, my joy at hearing the news that you were still alive was genuine."

"I'm in the Capitol?" I asked, my voice a near-whisper.

Snow nodded. "Indeed. In Victor's Mercy, to be exact. Once you are medically cleared, you will be moved to more suitable accommodations."

I swallowed heavily and looked back toward the ceiling. "What…what will you do to me?"

Snow leaned forward. "Mr. Mellark," he sighed, "you and your friends have caused me a great deal of trouble with your misguided little uprising. I have to admit; I was greatly disappointed by your actions. I had thought that we had an understanding. I underestimated you, Mr. Mellark. That is a mistake that I will not make again."

He paused while he raised a white handkerchief to his mouth and coughed slightly. "Now, as to you. You owe me, Mr. Mellark. You owe me, and I intend to see that you pay your restitution in full."

"How?" I managed to ask.

Snow smiled unpleasantly. "You and Miss Mason will make a formidable propaganda team. I can only imagine that your surviving comrades will waste no time in calling for your head."

"I can't do that," I said flatly.

Snow's eyes narrowed. "And why not?"

I spoke a single word in response. "Katniss."

A look of sorrow crossed Snow's face. "My boy, you are worried about what Miss Everdeen would think?"

I didn't reply. "You needn't worry, Mr. Mellark. Rest assured, Miss Everdeen will not think poorly of you for your cooperation in ending this useless and destructive rebellion."

"And you know this how?" I asked, turning toward him once more.

"Because, my boy," Snow replied gently, "Katniss Everdeen is dead."