Chapter 4: Under the Lash

After Darius's and my passionate kiss the night of my mother's recovery, I tentatively agree to a romantic relationship. I allow Darius to court me, which usually consists of dates in the Hob. We share a bowl of soup at Greasy Sae's. In return, I take him to my father's old hunting cabin deep in the woods by the lake, where we spend a few hours making out. I trust him enough by now to know that he will not reveal my illegal hunting activities; besides, Cray and half of the Peacekeeper force is on the take for my felled goods. Poaching and other such foraging is not significantly clamped down on here. If anything, the Peacekeepers look the other way.

So it comes as a surprise when Darius and I are finishing a pleasant walk around Town, only to discover a crowd forming in the Square before the Justice Building. Tightening his grip on my hand, Darius leads me through the crowd until we emerge into the center of the spectacle. I clap my free hand to my mouth at the sight, tamping down a scream.

My hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne, is lashed to the whipping post. It is an old, decaying structure that hasn't been used in decades, laying dormant. I honestly wonder why the thing has never been torn down (I don't think a whipping has happened since I've been alive), until I remember that it is probably illegal to tear down a structure of the Capitol.

Gale has been stripped of his shirt, so that his rippling back muscles are exposed to me. I want to run to him, cut him free, but the squeeze on my hand makes me take pause. Darius shakes his head almost imperceptibly to me, his eyes sympathetic and sad. His eyes flick somewhere off to his right, and I follow his gaze.

Two Peacekeeper officers are standing off to one side, clearly in the middle of an argument. I recognize the one pepper-gray head of hair as Cray's. The other is a cadet I am not entirely familiar with, and have only seen once or twice. Darius had mentioned to me how we got a set of new recruits recently, fresh off the train. It takes some time to break new officers into District 12's ways.

Which I am sure probably brought us to the exact problem we are facing now. No district is as lazy as Twelve.

"I caught him under the fence with a whole deer carcass!" the unfamiliar cadet is practically spitting in Cray's face.

"So fine him, Donaldson! Write up a report and put it in his file!"

"Not good enough! The lash is the best deterrent!" Donaldson insists. He sneers. "Or are you not man enough to command your own district? I'll cast a vote of no confidence if you're too yeller!"

Cray's eyes look pained. A vote of no confidence can be filed by any Peacekeeper at any time, according to Darius. More often than not, the motion results in the selection of a new Head Peacekeeper. I doubt that that would happen here, though; most of us in Twelve are loyal to Cray - not because we fear him, but because by and large he leaves us the hell alone. But it's still a risk Cray won't run. He looks sick as he accepts the offered whip from Donaldson, who grins ferally as we all watch Cray approach Gale, rear the whip back, and snap it over his shoulder blades.

"One."

Darius pulls me into his arms, so that I can stifle my sob into his shirt. I flinch at each and every crack, silently counting in my head, until, after reaching lash number 18, the noises stop. I turn my head out of Darius's arms tentatively.

"That's enough," Cray sighs heavily.

"More!" Donaldson insists.

"The boy is 18. I gave him 18 lashes. Fair is fair."

Donaldson gawps. "You're a weak, little -"

"I said that's ENOUGH!" The whip snaps so fast I hardly even see it, and Donaldson falls back into the dirt with a crash. When he rises, I see a thin line of blood across his cheek. Cray is glowering at him. "Who is in charge of this district?!"

Donaldson glares. Cray growls and snaps the whip down hard, so that it just misses his subordinate's feet.

"You are, sir," Donaldson snarls, sufficiently cowed. Cray nods once, very stiffly, then snaps his head to Darius. "Freeman, release the prisoner."

"Yes, Commander." Darius disengages me from his embrace, kisses me once gently, then cuts Gale free from his knife, before casting my best friend over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

From what I'm later told, Gale fell unconscious after the thirteenth strike. He never wakes up.

Gale's slips are quietly removed from the Reaping Bowl. His brother, Rory, takes out tesserae. I fear for his elevated chances in selection for the Games. However, in the 74th Hunger Games that summer, two nameless faces are selected for death. No one who I know, anyway. A thirteen year old from the Community Home joins an eighteen year old from the Seam as that year's tributes. They both die in the Bloodbath. Haymitch Abernathy watches their deaths with sad eyes before he drinks himself into the inevitable stupor. The boy from Two brings glory to his District. Again.

A few weeks later, I am passed along a note from Greasy Sae while trading in the Hob. I smile to see that it is from Darius, asking me to meet him by the Justice Building after he gets off his shift.

I enter the gray, imposing building, and encounter a clerk. The official, having obviously been prepared for my coming, directs me to the Head Peacekeeper's office. As I approach, I can hear raised voices behind Cray's door. I knock once, and the bickering ceases. "Come in," Cray's gruff voice harrumphs.

I enter to find the Head Peacekeeper at his desk, while standing around it are Darius and Donaldson. The latter's eyes sweep over me lecherously, and I feel Darius's body stiffen.

"Have a seat, girl," Cray instructs me wearily, and I take one in the plush armchair in the corner.

"You can't do this to me!" Donaldson screams as he turns back to Cray.

"I am the Head of this District; I can do whatever I want!" Cray snaps back. "And I want nothing to do with you! Just because we are the backwater of this country doesn't mean we deserve all the dregs who barely avoided washing out of the Academy!"

Donaldson's one hand clenches into a fist. "You're corrupt," he snarls. "You just don't want to change the way you do things here."

"Perhaps that's how you view it," Cray concedes flatly. "But I am more concerned with protecting my people. Your file isn't exactly glowing, Donaldson. They had no good things to say about you in Six. Would you like me to list them for you?"

"Please," Darius pipes up, smirking in amusement when Donaldson looks ready to kill him.

Cray also seems to barely hide his glee as he extracts a case file and begins to read. "Donaldson Trump III, born in District 2, graduated from the Academy in the bottom of his class, assigned to District 6. Stands accused on two counts of rape and battery. One count of insubordination. One count of drunk and disorderly conduct." He glances up from the rap sheet. "Need I say more?"

Donaldson's face turns a delicious shade of purple. "No."

"I'm transferring you to District 5," Cray orders flatly. "I expect you, bags packed and on the train first thing in the morning."

Donaldson's jaw drops. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, can't I? It's about all I can do, other than add one more count of insubordination to your record! Court-martialing is too good for the likes of you, Donaldson! And I can't have our women threatened by a rapist!" Cray bellows. I understand what he means. He can't fire him. He can't demote him. But Cray can make Donaldson someone else's problem. "Now get out!"

Donaldson's jaw clenches and he storms out of the office. Cray's Seam-gray eyes then turn to my boyfriend. "Peacekeeper Freeman, if you'll stay for a moment. Ms. Everdeen, I apologize for the spectacle just now. Please wait outside, if you would."

I stand, curtsey and take my leave, Darius whispering to me to wait by the door.

He emerges about five minutes later, drops a kiss to my lips. He is smiling. "Walk with me?"

Biting back a grin of my own, I nod. We stroll hand-in-hand out of the Justice Building. "Sorry you had to see the Dance of the Lemons," he apologizes.

I giggle and loop my arm through his. "Is that what they call it?"

"Getting a damaged Peacekeeper from another district? Yes," Darius sighs heavily. "Cray says it's only happened a few times. Most cadets who arrive in Twelve are wet-behind-the-ears, fresh from the Academies. This place is considered an easy first assignment. Donaldson was kicked around until he landed here, and created a disagreement in management. The culture in Six is harsher than it is here."

I nod, rubbing his arm. "What did Cray want to talk to you about?"

I am happy to see my boyfriend relax, and his grin could light up the mines. "I've been promoted. Deputy Head, under him."

I grin and softly kiss his cheek, then his lips. I've become a lot better at kissing, I feel. And when it comes to Darius, I love kissing him. "I'm proud of you," and I mean it.

Darius grins and suddenly pulling me close, kisses me back rather indecently. I moan into his mouth and accept the kiss passionately; it takes a few minutes before we break apart.

"What was that for?" I gasp, breathless.

"Because I love you, and I think you're beautiful." I flush furiously. "Want to have dinner in the Hob?"

I grin. "Lead the way."