We Didn't Start The Fire
by FanficAllergy & RoseFyre
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Chapter Ten: Is This The End?
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Last Time in We Didn't Start The Fire:
Onscreen, Caesar cuts the Mayor's interview short, not even bothering with the playing of the national anthem. The screen goes dark and I know that our opportunity to interrupt the interviews is over.
Gale laughs. "Good for him. We may not have broken in tonight," he says, "but I think our Mayor said everything we need to say."
I nod my head. None of the lines I had planned for tonight are anywhere near as moving as what Mayor Undersee just said unscripted in Caesar's studio.
oOo
Katniss rounds on Coin. "We need to do something!" My wife is saying what I'm thinking so I decide to let her take the lead.
The president steps forward from where she'd been watching our failed transmission attempt. "Do what, Ms. Everdeen?"
"I don't know! Something!" Katniss crosses her arms and glares at the other woman. "We can't just let those kids die! It's inhumane!"
Coin returns my wife's gaze. "I think you've summed up the Capitol perfectly. What do you want us to do?"
"Save them! Screw breaking into the transmission, let's just break into the Arena and get everybody out!" Katniss motions to the line of techs watching the exchange with trepidation. "Wouldn't it be a better announcement of the rebellion to break these people out than to break into their stupid broadcast?"
"Indeed it would," Coin agrees in an amicable tone. "Do you know where the Arena is?"
That brings Katniss up short. "Well, no, but don't you have spies?"
"We do. But even our most highly placed operatives are not privy to that information. Only the Head Gamemaker, Snow, and a few select others know the exact coordinates. The construction crews are flown in via remote controlled hovercraft," the woman explains. "Even the pilots who fly the tributes there only get the coordinates the day of, and they stay on site until the Games are over."
The implication is that those pilots are the same pilots who deliver sponsorship gifts and collect the tributes' bodies.
Katniss doesn't give up. "Still! There's got to be a way to get those coordinates!"
"Those coordinates are one of the most highly guarded secrets in all of Panem." Coin sighs, letting her frustration show. "We tried to stage a breakout during the Tenth Games. Since then they've kept everything need to know only. We've got somebody fairly highly placed, but not quite high enough."
"Can't we make some kind of guess?" I ask. "I mean, how many deserts or arctic woodlands are there? Your spy must know something about the Arena, even if they don't know exactly where it is. Can we work from that information?"
The president's pale eyes turn toward me. "It's not that simple. The Arenas are not natural. They can't be. All of those traps and tricks would be impossible to incorporate into the natural landscape. Not to mention the infrastructure necessary to support the Games. Many Arenas use some part of the surrounding environment, but Quell Arenas are almost entirely manufactured. For all we know, that thing is five miles outside the Capitol."
"But we need to do something," Katniss protests. But I can hear the resignation in her tone.
"I sympathize, Ms. Everdeen. I truly do." Coin's expression is sympathetic. "If there was some way we could rescue those children, I would do it. But I can't. This travesty is on the Capitol's hands. And this is why we need a rebellion."
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The following afternoon at two, the Games begin. There's no attempt to hijack the Capitol's signal, but Coin wants us to watch the Games anyway. She wants Katniss to bring up the injustices and the horrors on her daily radio show. She also orders Gale and me to watch them, claiming it's good for us to see what we're fighting for. She even joins us for the start of the Games.
I'd rather be doing almost anything else, but because of the Mayor, and to honor my friend Madge, I'm going to do what President Coin asks. I will watch these Games. I will remember them. I will use their very memory to take down the government which allowed them to happen.
I tune out Caesar and Claudius reminiscing over the so-called glories of Hunger Games past. I don't need to hear their inane chatter or relive the memories of teens killing teens. Beside me, I feel Gale reach out to take my hand. Katniss isn't with us. Rain's feeding schedule supersedes the Capitol's, so she gets to watch the events in the nursery with her mother. I'd rather be with her and our son, but I can't. Coin is watching us too closely.
I take a deep breath and look over at my husband. I need his strength right now. I need his surety what we're doing is right. His gray eyes meet mine and he gives my hand another squeeze, reassuring me. I don't know how I'd do this without him, and I wonder if one person could handle being the Mockingjay without going insane. I somehow doubt it.
The screen flickers and we get a sweeping overhead view of the Arena. It's decidedly manufactured and beautiful, and I'm sure it's going to be just as deadly as all of its predecessors. There are twelve equally spaced sections of water with rocky dividers leading to the center where the Cornucopia lies. All around the large metal horn are scattered various supplies. Weapons, backpacks, food, and other random items. The twenty four tribute platforms are spaced evenly in the water around the Cornucopia, with two platforms in each slice. The baker in me notes that it looks like a large pie, and I'm sure it wasn't designed that way by chance.
Along the edge of the water, white sand beaches give way to thick jungle. From the view overhead, it appears that the Arena is smaller than in previous years. That generally tends to mean that the violence is going to be more intense and faster.
I'm grateful. I'm not sure I could bear to watch child after child dying of dehydration and starvation alone, without their families or loved ones.
Caesar Flickerman's voice intrudes on my thoughts. "And oh my stars! Take a look at that Arena! Doesn't it look fabulous, folks?
"Yes, Caesar," Claudius agrees. "I think Seneca Crane and his team have really outdone themselves this year. I'm positively quivering with excitement to find out what surprises they have in store!"
"And you know they're going to be spectacular! It's a Quell! I'm sure we'll be talking about this Games for years to come!"
The tributes rise up through the water and take their starting positions for the Games.
For one full minute, the tributes are supposed to stand, waiting for the gong to start. I think back to Pacifica's gong game, and I hope all of the children are able to keep still for that long.
One of them doesn't.
Ferdie O'Doyle, unable to understand what he's supposed to do, sees the sparkling water and crawls towards it, tumbling off the edge of his platform and exploding into a bright red mist.
Unable to keep the tears from forming, I bury my head in Gale's shoulder. I feel a drop of wetness on the back of my neck and know my husband is crying too. Ferdie's death is so pointless. Useless. What does it prove, being able to kill an infant? Real power is raising an infant to adulthood, shaping, molding, and educating them so they can be a productive and valued member of society. Destroying something so pure, so innocent, so full of potential, it doesn't take any effort at all.
I hear the gong sound and I force myself to look up and watch the action.
Pacifica jumps in the water, swimming towards the Cornucopia, but it's slow going. Little Shuga Coombs is calling out for her friend, paddling with all of her strength, but her face keeps falling into the water. There's some kind of flotation device around their waists. Unfortunately, rather than keeping Shuga afloat like it was intended to, the device keeps upending her so she ends up swallowing huge lungfuls of water.
Chaff is one of the first to make it to the Cornucopia, picking up a long scythe. He guards the opening by himself until Chevy and Henry from District Six join him.
On the far side of the Cornucopia, Earlene Dixon goes down with a thrown knife to the chest, courtesy of Myron Gaultier from District One. She'd been trying to protect her district partner, Grover. The little boy is still standing on his starting platform, trying to fend off Myron's district partner, Oralie. With Earlene dead, Oralie quickly stabs her knife into Grover's skull, killing him instantly.
On the edge of the screen, I spot Justus running off into the dense jungle. Good, I think to myself, watching the little boy run, get out of the way of these killers.
I note out of the corner of my eye Coin leaving the room we're watching the Games in. I wonder briefly where she's going. But I'm not able to ponder her exit for too long because the bloodbath grabs my attention again.
The boy from Eight, Taylor, goes down next. He's been struggling to climb up onto the rock pile of the Cornucopia when he's grabbed by his hair by Serge, his district partner. She gives him a shake, then jabs the short sword in her hand into the boy's gut before throwing him backwards into the water. It isn't a clean death, and I can see him crying out weakly as he bleeds out. The woman from Eight ignores the dying boy's cries, grabbing what supplies she can and shoving them into one of the backpacks. A loud shout causes her to pause. She turns and sees Mayor Undersee, brandishing a spear, bearing down on her. Serge hisses at him angrily before shoving her backpack on her back and dashing down one of the long rock spokes into the jungle.
She's not the only one, a number of tributes have fled the bloodbath.
On the other side of the Cornucopia, Chaff and Beulah have squared off. The woman from Seven is strong and she's flourishing an axe, the perfect weapon for a District Seven tribute. But Chaff is unstoppable. Wielding a scythe, even with only one hand, the former Victor is the better fighter. He knows his weapon, and what's more, he's killed before. He takes down Beulah, blocking the handle of her axe with his stump, before slicing her femoral artery open. The woman bleeds out quickly.
Near the mouth of the large metal horn, Henry's helping the twelve year old from Three, Error, up onto the bank. Her feet keep slipping, pulling Henry off-balance. They both tumble into the water. Henry scrambles up the rocky sides and holds out a hand for Error. As she reaches for Henry's proffered hand, her district partner, Kenshin, surfaces behind her, submerging the young girl under the water.
Henry yells, alerting Chevy to Error's plight as he tries to pull Error free. The woman from Six turns, revealing that she's somehow gotten her hands on a bow and quiver of arrows. I wonder if she's able to use them. I get my answer seconds later, as the arrow that she fires at near point blank range impales itself in Kenshin's throat. The man topples backwards into the water, letting Error scramble to the surface and take a much needed breath.
To their left, Valli is on the bank, calling for Pacifica to swim to the group at the Cornucopia. The little girl is trying. It's tough going, but I can see why Valli can't jump into the water to save the little girl herself. The woman from Eleven is having to defend herself against the double team efforts of Oralie and Myron. She's holding her own against the two from District One, and she manages to get in a good solid hit on Oralie's left shoulder, but it comes at a high cost. Myron, seeing the opening, plunges his dagger into Valli's unprotected side. Valli screams, alerting her allies to her predicament.
Chaff comes running. Because of her angle, Oralie is able to see the enraged Victor, and she dives into the water to escape. Myron isn't so lucky. Chaff bears down on him like a charging bull, swinging his scythe wildly. The old man tries to defend himself, but against the man from Eleven's strength, it's not enough.
Chaff swings his scythe, slicing Myron's head from his body, sending it flying through the air and into the water. Myron's headless body topples against the side of the Cornucopia with a loud clang.
With the threat dispatched, Chaff moves to check Valli's wounds. "You gonna make it girl?"
Valli nods weakly. "And if I don't, at least I'm dyin' with my hands clean."
Chaff nods, standing up to take stock of the situation.
Pacifica scrambles up onto the bank and starts pointing to where she sees her friend Shuga bobbing in the water. Henry dives in and swims over to the little girl. The dark-skinned man turns her over and puts his head on her chest. Henry's face collapses, tears forming in his eyes. He looks back over his shoulder and shakes his head. It's too late. Shuga Coombs, the three year old girl from the Seam, is dead.
Overhead, the first cannon sounds.
oOo
While the hovercrafts do their gruesome duty, the alliance of Chaff, Chevy, Henry, Valli, and the Mayor start herding the kids, Error and Pacifica, to gather up the supplies surrounding the Cornucopia. When they've done that, they settle down to make some hard choices. There aren't huge boxes of supplies like in previous Arenas. Most of what's there is smaller, more portable, like the Gamemakers themselves aren't expecting a long Games.
Food comes first, and that's when the first surprise hits. There's no water at all in the supplies. Additionally, there are no water purification kits. But there are several empty canteens, as well as a few pots and other containers.
"What do they expect us to do? We can't drink saltwater," Chevy says, picking through the pile. "Is there a distillation kit or something like that in here? Clear plastic?"
"There's clear plastic," Henry answers. He holds a piece up, then goes back to looking through the mess.
Chevy nods. "So we can make a solar still."
"But that ain't gonna give us much and it's gonna keep us out in the open, exposed," Chaff says. "There's gotta be water back there in the jungle."
"Maybe, maybe not," the Mayor says. "Anybody remember the Fiftieth Games? Haymitch's. That Quell Arena didn't have any plants or animals or water in it that the tributes could eat or drink. Everything was poisonous and the tributes had to rely on Cornucopia supplies, rainwater, and sponsors to make it through. Maybe here's the same and we should just wait for it to rain."
"I'm not so sure," Henry says, playing around with a shiny metal object that I'm not quite able to make out. "I think they put this here for a reason." He holds the thing up so it's clear. I recognize it as a spile, similar to the ones Katniss and Gale brought with them from Twelve. We got a lot of use out of them early this spring. "I bet we'll find water if we use these."
"And just what is that?" Chaff asks.
"It's called a spile," Henry explains. "We use them back in Six to tap maple trees to provide syrup and sugar for the Capitol. Not all of us work in transportation, you know."
I didn't know, and I'm surprised that the information was broadcast.
"So you think we're gonna need to tap trees for water?" Error asks.
"Wouldn't hurt to check."
"Okay, bring 'em with us. In fact, save anything that looks unusual," Chaff orders. "The Gamemakers sometimes like to leave little hints about what to expect in these goodie piles of theirs."
I see right away that this group has a major advantage, having Chevy and Chaff on their team. Not only have both of them been through the Games before, but both of them have been long-time mentors and have seen many different Arenas and know the Gamemakers better than anyone else in these Games.
Night vision goggles are the next unusual item to be added to the pile, along with a snorkel and some swimming fins. An underwater speargun along with its ammunition is added next.
Everyone grabs at least one weapon, mostly knives. Even Pacifica is given a little slingshot to carry. It's not much of a weapon, but it's at least something.
"If you find any medicine, grab it," Chevy tells them.
"Yeah, I could use a little healing," Valli says weakly, trying to make a joke at her own expense.
"Let me look at that wound," Chaff says, coming around to the woman's side.
She tries to wave him away. "It's not that bad."
"I'll be the judge of that."
Valli gives in, knowing better than to argue with her district partner. The wound is bad, deep, and it hasn't stopped bleeding. But what's worse is the look on Chaff's face as he examines it. I can tell that the news isn't good.
"Looks like that guy from One nicked your lower intestines."
"What's that mean?" Valli asks. "Other than it hurts like a bitch." She glances at Pacifica. "Sorry. Language."
"Nah, I think you had the right swear," Chaff murmurs. "I ain't gonna lie to you. It's not good."
To her credit, the woman catches on immediately. "How long?"
"I don't know," he tells her sadly. "Depends on how much you wanna fight, I guess."
Valli nods her head. "I don't suggest wasting any medicine on me. There's no point."
"We can give you something for the pain," Chevy pipes up. "There's morphling here."
Chaff looks over at Chevy sharply. A silent conversation passes between them until finally Chaff nods, his shoulders relaxing.
"If you can spare it, I wouldn't say no," Valli says. "I'm in a fair bit of pain."
Chevy takes out a syringe and measures out some of the morphling and then skillfully injects it into Valli's arm. I'm guessing she's got experience with the drug, because the woman from Eleven's face smooths out and a blissed out smile replaces the grimace of pain.
They place everything they think they might need into one large pile before divvying it up, then make the rest of their selections, taking with them as much food as they can carry, along with all of the medicine and a few fire-making kits, sleeping bags, and other survival gear.
When the group finishes, Chaff shouts up at the sky, "I could use that drink right about now!"
A few moments later, the silver of a parachute tinkles down. Attached to it is a bottle of white liquor. Chaff takes a pull from it before turning to the group. "Pile anything that can burn in the mouth of the Cornucopia. Anything weapons, metal, shit like that, toss it out as far as you can into the water. We're leavin' nothing behind." His eyes go hard. "What we can't take with us, we destroy."
"But what if we need something later?" Error asks, her eyes wide.
"Then we should've thought of it now. That's why we're takin' as much as we can carry with us, but not so much as it's gonna slow us down," he tells her. "We're exposed out here, vulnerable, and I bet someone's plannin' an ambush even as we speak. Let's not make it easy for 'em. We take what we can and we burn the rest."
It makes sense, and it's a good strategy. The Cornucopia is too exposed, and it's too easy to sneak up on. This isn't like the stereotypical Games where an alliance of Careers sets up camp by the Cornucopia and lives there for the duration. That strategy clearly won't work in this Quell. In order to survive, the alliance needs to get to the relative safety of the treeline.
The group complies, shoving a few last things into their packs and tossing mostly weapons into the surrounding sea. Everything else they put in a large pile at the front of the opening to the Cornucopia.
When that's done, Chaff pours what's left of the white liquor he was sent on the pile. "Step back," he cautions. "This'll singe your eyebrows off."
The Mayor and Chevy lead the children down one of the walkways towards the beach, while Henry half-walks, half-carries Valli, leaving Chaff alone.
"Thanks for the advice, old friend," Chaff murmurs skyward, before striking a match. It flickers in the sea wind and goes out. "Fuck," he swears. He strikes another one and quickly tosses it onto the pile. It ignites immediately. Chaff stays for as long as he can, watching the supplies burn, before he turns his back on the Cornucopia and heads off to the jungle to join the rest of his alliance.
"That was really smart of him," Gale observes, watching the screen. "I mean, that was really smart."
"I wonder who the friend was," I ask.
"I'm guessing Haymitch. I know you didn't go to the Hob, Peet, but Haymitch was a regular of Ripper's. And that bottle looked a lot like the kind she uses."
I think back. Violet used the white liquor they brought with them from Twelve mostly for medicinal purposes and antiseptic. The stuff smelled vile. Thirteen confiscated the last of it when we came here. I wonder inanely what they did with the stuff. Apparently it's got a secondary use as lighter fluid. I half-wish Ripper were here now. We could probably use those spirits of hers to win the war.
oOo
We're called into President Coin's office later that evening. The woman seems tired, but underneath it I can tell she's feeling satisfied.
We've got to tread carefully. With the Mayor's declaration and today's events, it's possible she could be considering changing who the symbol of the rebellion should be. The Mayor would make a powerful symbol, but I'm more worried about Madge. She's here, in Thirteen, and like Gale, she too ran away. And, unlike Gale, I know she was actually rebellious before her escape from Twelve. Madge would make the perfect Mockingjay but for one thing: she wouldn't be able to handle the pressure. Her reaction to her father being Reaped is proof enough, and I wouldn't want to force Madge to become the Mockingjay even if I thought she could handle it. We're going to need to play along with Coin to make sure she doesn't decide to go for the easier Mockingjay.
"You wanted to see us, Madam President?" I say politely, nodding my head to the woman.
"Yes, please, all three of you sit down."
"Thank you," Katniss says, leaving off Coin's honorific.
Gale just nods his head and takes his seat.
"That was quite a horrible set of events that happened today. I wanted to see how you were holding up after the start of the Games. The bloodbath is always terrible, but this year it's been especially horrifying. All those innocent children, and that baby." She's poking at the wound. She knows, as new parents, how we feel about seeing an infant die.
There's no point in hiding it, so I don't. "It was horrible. I was hard-pressed to keep the tears from my eyes."
"Same," Gale says.
Katniss scowls. "How else are we supposed to feel?"
"If you're the Capitol, you could be bored," the president replies. "I'm quite sure that the Capitol crowds were not pleased with the deaths of the children."
"That's good, right?" Katniss asks. "Maybe then they'll figure out the difference between seven and twelve isn't that much of a difference."
"Indeed. That would be helpful. But I'm afraid it's not likely to be the case. The Capitol's fickle, and they're easily distracted by the next shiny thing or Finnick Odair movie."
"Is that it?" Gale starts to stand back up.
The gray woman shakes her head. "No. We've received word that your former Head Peacekeeper, Commander Cray, has been executed."
"What?" Gale asks, stunned. "Why?"
"Why, for allowing the Mayor to get away with his obvious rebellion, of course." Coin leans forward, her eyes intent. "There's no way Miss Undersee could have escaped without Cray's help and assistance. After all, it's the Head Peacekeeper's responsibility to make sure that the fence surrounding their district is armed and patrolled at all times. That, if there are chinks in that armor, they get repaired… replaced." She smiles at me. "He failed with you, Mr. Mellark." She turns to my spouses. "He failed again with you, Mr. Hawthorne and Ms. Everdeen. And he had his final failure with Miss Undersee and your brother." She sits back, a little satisfied smile toying at her lips. "As the old saying goes, three strikes and you're out. I'm afraid the Capitol couldn't allow any more public failures to go by unpunished. He was executed this afternoon, and a new Head has been appointed in his place."
She lets that sink in for a moment before continuing, "Additionally, as of today all of the remaining Peacekeepers in District Twelve have been reassigned to other districts, where they will be reevaluated as to their fitness for duty."
I wonder what exactly that means, but I decide I don't want to ask.
"We've also received word that the boy from Two's mother is a Peacekeeper, and in deference to her, well, plight, the Capitol has graciously allowed her to return home to wait out the rest of the Games with her family," Coin finishes, watching each of us to see our reactions.
"I don't know what to say," Gale says. "Cray wasn't that bad. A little lazy, but for a Peacekeeper he wasn't that bad."
Katniss nods her head.
Coin looks at us. "I take it you knew the man."
"Not that well. Katniss and me traded with him a bit." I can tell Gale's having a hard time not automatically censoring himself. His illegal activities under the fence aren't going to get him flogged or hanged here, but the ingrained need to keep it quiet is still there.
"I think what Gale's trying to say is that, before they ran," I say, careful to make sure I don't make the same mistake I made when we first came, "he and Katniss used to slip out under the fence and trade their illegally hunted kills with Cray."
"And he knew where you got them?" Coin asks my spouses pointedly.
"I don't see how he couldn't," Katniss says. "I mean, half the kills he bought were shot through the eye and the other half had obvious snare marks. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out we were hunting on the other side of the fence."
"And he turned a blind eye to that. Interesting."
"I wouldn't go painting him as a symbol of the rebellion just yet," I say, heading off where I think this might be going. "He just was lazy and liked his creature comforts. He also had his bad side," I tell her. "A lot of girls, desperate girls, a lot of them teenagers even, used to sell themselves to Cray for a bit of coin or bread. He used to come into my father's shop and buy up all of the day-old bread for cheap and then buy his entertainment for the night with it." I can't keep the disgust out of my voice.
Coin regards me, her features carefully schooled to not give anything away. "So it sounds as if he was no big loss."
"Not really. I'm still surprised they decided to take action against him. It's not like they care about District Twelve."
"That's not entirely true, Mr. Mellark. The Capitol may not care about the health or the prosperity of District Twelve, but they care very much for District Twelve's continued obedience," she corrects. "Twelve has become a little too rebellious. They can't afford to let the fires of this rebellion spread. We need to continue to fan the flames."
"I'm not sure now's the best time," I say, thinking of how vulnerable and beaten down my home district is. I don't doubt that the Capitol would sacrifice Twelve if it meant they could keep the rest of the districts in line, and I'm not about to set my district up for destruction.
"Oh I agree with you, Mr. Mellark. I think the Games will give us more fuel that we can use later." She pauses, letting her cold gray eyes flick over us. "No. Now we need to plan and to prepare. We must work together closely to capitalize on any mistakes the Capitol makes."
"How?" Katniss asks.
She smiles at my wife. It doesn't entirely reach her eyes. "Well, I know that we didn't get off to the best start, and I'd like to change that. It's important we be seen as allies. Close ones." Her voice is warm, almost friendly. "Too many people here in Thirteen have expressed concerns about your continued arrangement, but I understand now just how important all three of you are. Ms. Everdeen's broadcasts were not in my original plan, but I must admit they have value," she says, nodding at Katniss. "And you three have provided, both separately and as a trio, lots of good material for Ms. Cardew's propos. I think I can do a little to make things smoother for you here in Thirteen." She smiles again. "How does that sound?"
"We would appreciate any aid you can give us, Madam President," I say before Katniss or Gale can say anything. "After all, we're all on the same side. The same team. It's important we present a united front."
"Exactly, Peeta. I'm glad you understand."
I don't understand, but I'm not about to tell her that. I don't trust her. The offer is too suspicious. I don't know what game she's playing, but I know she's playing one.
oOo
AN:
Written: 4/21/15
Revised: 8/7/15
Revised 2: 8/25/15
The title of this chapter comes from the song "Is This the End?" by the band Creed. Don't judge us too harshly… at least it's not Nickelback.
Things We Randomized:
- The order in which the tributes perished and what days they died.
Thanks for reading! We hope you're enjoying!
