Nezumi listened to the whistle of wind and his chest tightened. He and Shion had resolved to flee the Capitol, a treacherous and irrevocable decision once acted upon. But Nezumi felt the cool of the night seep into his skin and he realized he didn't know where to start or where they would finish. He had brought Shion into his plans; the burden of taking charge and leading them to safety rested on his shoulders now.

Or so he thought. But in the next few hours Nezumi couldn't be sure if he really had been the instigator of their rebellion.

Barely a second passed as Nezumi and Shion stared into each other's eyes, the spark of imagined freedom kindling between them. Then Shion turned and gestured at Nezumi to head back toward the elevator. Nezumi followed him, uneasy. Fleeing the Capitol was easier said than done, and he was already cataloging the obstacles that would stand between them.

"We can't bring much," Nezumi said quietly once they were in the elevator. "But we'll need to grab a bag and some clothes, at least…" He wondered where they could get food and water. It would be too risky to take it from the Training Center. They had to avoid as many cameras and public places as possible.

Nezumi noticed Shion shaking his head from the corner of his eye. Nezumi turned to him and frowned, not understanding his objection.

Shion pointed to the floor 7 button and made an X with his hands, wearing an expression so forbidding Nezumi's stomach twisted in apprehension. Shion pressed the B button instead. The elevator plummeted toward what could only be the basement of the building.

Nezumi burned to ask Shion why floor 7 was off limits, and why they were going to the basement, but he knew Shion wouldn't be able to explain with his communication limited as it was.

Something must have happened while I was gone today. Nezumi clenched his jaw. They had barely even begun and it seemed that something had already gone wrong. He cast a look at Shion. The other teen wore an expression of focus. His eyes were far away, as though he were trying hard to recall a vital bit of information.

The doors opened and Shion came to again. He exited the elevator and waved Nezumi to follow him, and Nezumi did, feeling more and more behind by the minute.

Shion led them into a small, gray room. The mouth of a large chute gapped at the opposite end, and a dingy-looking cart stood beneath to catch whatever it expelled. Shion rummaged through the cart and pulled out a gray tunic and pants, which he proffered to Nezumi. Nezumi took the clothing and noticed they were the same hue and style as Shion's. He looked up and into Shion's face.

"How long have you been planning this?" He kept his voice low, in case of hidden listening devices, and it made his awe sound even more reverent.

Shion smiled crookedly. While Nezumi changed, Shion scrounged for useful items and came up with two towels, a few pairs of mismatched socks, and a small laundry bag to carry everything in. Nezumi nodded in approval and waited to see if Shion had anything more up his sleeve.

He did. He led them back into the hall and down into a boiler room. Shion scanned the room, poking around the machinery and the walls. His mouth slashed a grim line across his face and there was a determined set to his shoulders. It was a version of Shion Nezumi had never seen before, and by the time Nezumi realized he should stop watching and actually assist in whatever he was searching for, Shion had opened a maintenance closet and perked up. Shion turned to Nezumi with excitement, pointing at the shoebox-sized space.

Nezumi furrowed his brow, but the reason for Shion's delight revealed itself when he approached. There was a hole in the floor of the closet, with a loose sheet of mesh plastered over it. The hole was a little less than three feet wide, and Nezumi thought he heard a faint ssh coming from it. It sounded like running water.

Shion pulled the mesh off, sat, and swung his legs over and into the hole. He paused and looked up at Nezumi. Nezumi traded a look between Shion and the hole. Curiosity and the knowledge that he had no alternatives left him no choice in the end.

Nezumi shrugged and mouthed, Look out below, which won a smile from Shion. Shion hoisted the laundry bag over his head and slunk into the hole. He slipped silently out of sight. Nezumi swallowed and peered into the opening, but it was nothing but blackness. Carefully, he sat and slid over to the rim of the hole. With a deep breath, he made himself as compact as possible and dropped down after Shion.

Nezumi's stomach plummeted as he fell, feeling the grind of the tube's walls against his shoulders. The fall lasted just long enough for the fear of getting bottlenecked to pop into his head. Then it was over and he landed sloppily in a pool of water.

Nezumi shot to his feet and coughed. The water was freezing, and it smelled. Nezumi shook himself off the best he could and looked around. The only light came from a dingy brown strip a yard or so down the way. It appeared that they had dropped into some kind ofmaintenance tunnel beneath the city.

How did Shion know this was here? Nezumi turned to find Shion holding a towel out to him. He was about to remark that Shion had thought of everything when the other teen draped his own towel over his head like a hood, rather than drying himself off with it. Shion pointed to several spots around the ceiling and tightened the corners of the towel around his face.

He really did think of everything. Nezumi wasn't sure who this person was anymore. He had seemed so meek and helpless just a few hours before.

Shion thought a second and then set off down the tunnel to their right, skimming his hand against the wall to guide him. Nezumi was trying his best to stay quiet and let Shion carry on in his mysteriously confident way, but after a minute of traveling the tunnel in near darkness, a question slipped out. "How do you know about this place?"

Shion pressed a finger to his lips and pointed around the tunnel again. Guess the questions will have to wait, Nezumi conceded as he slogged through the ankle-deep water as quietly as he could manage. But never had he felt more injustice towards the Capitol for rendering Shion mute. He trusted Shion—there was no way for it, since they'd hitched their fates together that fateful night a year ago—but he wanted to know, not blindly trust.

The tunnel had a wet, musty smell and that was about all Nezumi noticed. There wasn't much look at but Shion's back and the lights up above. Occasionally, he thought he saw the eye of a camera glint across the way. He adjusted the towel draped over his head and walked on in silence.

At last, the trek through the tunnel ended. Shion's hand caught on something barred to the wall and he paused to feel it out. Nezumi squinted at the object: a ladder. Shion made what Nezumi decided to label his "considering face," nodded, and began to climb. The ladder led to an alley. Everything was cloaked in velvety darkness, but the air smelled sweet and full, like bread fresh from the oven.

Nezumi glanced around but all was silent. I wonder if anyone's missed me yet. Someone must have. At the very least, the Capitol reporters would have looked for him; they always conducted interviews with the mentors when their tributes died. Likewise when a tribute was on a hot streak. He imagined Gran and Rou, subjected to the reporters' wheedling questions, and making excuses for Nezumi's absence.

Nezumi's mood darkened as he imagined the interviews. He was glad he didn't stay for that. He didn't think he could put on a Capitol face after what happened. Kal's lifeless body floated up from his memory and he pushed it back down with effort.

Keep moving forward, he told himself. Kal would have said the same to him. They wouldn't want him to mourn. They would've spat on his pity. He and Kal were the same in that regard, and so Nezumi knew the only way to honor their memory was to get the hell out of the Capitol as fast as he could.

Shion tugged at Nezumi's sleeve and Nezumi broke from his reverie. He pointed to a door in the alley and urged Nezumi toward it, tucking himself just behind his elbow as they approached. Nezumi raised an eyebrow at Shion's sudden relapse into timidity.

The smell of bread grew stronger, and the closer he got to the door the scent mingled with those of vanilla and sugar. Nezumi knew immediately where they were and why Shion was acting so reluctant. He took a deep breath and knocked twice, quick and hard. He glanced back at Shion. The other teen looked like he might chew his way through his bottom lip, but thankfully the door opened before he got that far.

Karan's dark eyes widened when she saw Nezumi on her doorstep. The towel on his head no doubt added to her surprise and confusion. Her mouth opened but Nezumi raised a finger to his lips. Then he reached into the shadows beside him and tugged Shion into the light. Karan's hands flew to her mouth and her eyes grew wider. With a hurried step, she drew back and ushered them inside.

Nezumi recognized the back room, except now the counters and floor were spotless. A mop and bucket were nestled in the corner, and a powder blue washcloth lay crumpled on the edge of the counter. The door to the bedroom at the back stood wide open, the covers of the cot already turned down.

Karan locked the door and swung around. She and Shion stepped at the same time and wrapped each other in a tight hug. Karan squeezed him tight and laughed and cried at the same time, brushing his face, his hair. When they drew back from each other, Shion beamed, his own tears running silent track lines down his cheeks. Karan brushed his tears away and pressed her lips to his forehead.

Nezumi hovered by the counters and tried not to appear too big in the small room. He took up the washcloth and swiped at a non-existent speck on the counter until Karan turned from her son and called him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Nezumi's heart beat a bittersweet rhythm at the affection in her voice. He had received hardly any gratitude in his life, and no one had ever said it like that. But Karan shouldn't be thanking him. He did not bring her son back to her so he could stay. He wouldn't have brought Shion back to her at all if he had come up with the escape route; it wouldn't even have crossed his mind.

Nezumi cleared his throat. "We need your help."

Karan's smile became a softer, sadder thing, but she nodded. "I thought you might. I saw what happened in the Games today." Her eyes were remorseful, but she didn't tell Nezumi she was sorry or offer any platitudes. She gave Shion's hand a squeeze and let go, trading a look between them. "You're running, aren't you?"

Nezumi smiled blandly, appreciating the woman more and more by the minute. "We need supplies. Not a lot, but enough to get us out and heading toward the border. A change of clothes would be good too," Nezumi added, remembering the towel and plucking it off his head. What he really wanted was a shower, but they didn't have time for such luxuries, so fresh clothes would have to suffice.

"I'll get you some of Shion's old things." Karan moved toward the bedroom, but paused when Shion caught her by the elbow. Shion mimicked writing on the palm of his hand. Karan murmured her understanding and hurried off.

Nezumi watched her bustle around the bedroom for a moment before catching Shion's eye. The boy's brows were drawn together and he kept knotting and unknotting his hands in front of him, but when his eyes met Nezumi's he tried to look less nervous.

"Your mama is a hell of a woman."

The lines of Shion's face smoothed out. He nodded, an edge of pride seeping into the corners of his mouth.

Karan came back in with clothes for them both and left them on the counter before disappearing again into the front of the store. She came back carrying a small chalkboard, upon which the specials of the day were written. She wiped it clean with the washcloth and laid it down. Shion hurriedly took the piece of chalk she offered him and bent over the counter. Karan and Nezumi stood on either side to read what he wrote.

We can't stay long, we need to find a way out tonight. The Capitol is onto us.

The room seemed to darken.

"What do you mean?" Nezumi said in a cool hush.

They came to question me today. About the missing bugs in your room, and why we spend so much time together.

"Great." A flicker of anger and fear writhed in Nezumi's chest. People definitely were missing him then, and the moment they reviewed the camera footage of him looking for Shion and realized Shion had disappeared as well, the Capitol would be hunting for them. They probably already were. Their chances of escaping had just plummeted to virtually nonexistent.

For the first time Nezumi regretted his decision to run on a whim, but that Shion had agreed to come with him, knowing what he did, was sheer recklessness. But then, Shion seemed to know what he was doing up until this point.

I hope he knows what he's doing. Otherwise we're fucked.

Karan wrung her hands, but she didn't say anything. She and Shion wore the same determined face when they thought. It would have been amusing if this weren't life or death.

"Can we use the tunnels to get out?" Nezumi asked Shion.

Shion shook his head ruefully. Tunnels only go to the edges of the city. One side of the surface is guarded by officers, other side is the dam, he wrote beneath his first sentence.

"Right," Nezumi muttered. The word tasted bitter on his tongue.

Karan's forehead creased. "Where do you plan to run to?"

Nezumi crossed his arms. "Right now, whichever direction gets us out of the city, but eventually east and then north toward the border." He felt ill even as he spoke the words. They would need to travel more than 1,600 miles across Panem to get even close to freedom, but that was the only way to safety. It would be easier if the half the country north of Panem hadn't been obliterated decades ago. But the only land path out of Panem lay above District 12, past the remains of 13.

Shion smeared his previous writing on the chalkboard and scrawled over it. We can go to 13. Nezumi and Karan stared blankly at the words. Shion wrote again, more hurried. There are rumors, the video the Capitol shows isn't right. Difficult to explain. The other Avoxes think it's not destroyed, that there are survivors. Shion shook his hand out and readjusted his grip on the small piece of chalk to finish. Worth a shot. If it's dead, we can just go up from there.

Shion turned to Nezumi for his thoughts. Nezumi didn't know what to think. He hadn't paid much attention to the propaganda videos the Capitol put out regarding the remains of District 13, and now he wished he had. If District 13 still existed… If there were survivors…

It seemed farfetched. Nezumi knew well the kind of implausible dreams the hopeless crafted for themselves. A safe refuge far away from the Capitol, kept secret and hidden under the pretense of total annihilation seemed just the kind of myth that would spawn from the minds of the downtrodden.

But Shion had a point. If they were headed that direction anyway it was worth checking out, and the area of 13 would not be under as much surveillance as one of the active districts.

Unless the rumor has reached Capitol ears. Nezumi grimaced and pushed the thought away. He wouldn't get anywhere if he kept discouraging himself at every juncture. He accepted that the circumstances weren't ideal, that their chances were slim, and escaping was going to be difficult. But he wouldn't let himself be paralyzed by the odds. They had to keep moving.

Nezumi nodded at Shion. "It's worth a shot. But we have to get over there first. It's a long trip."

"I think I can help with that." Shion and Nezumi turned to Karan. The woman had her arms crossed over her chest. "Shion, do you remember Yoming?"

Shion straightened and raised his eyebrows in query.

"Yoming works on the freight trains," Karan said to Nezumi, and then to both of them, "His wife was taken by the Capitol a few years back. He doesn't say anything out loud anymore, but… I know he still hates the Capitol for it." Karan nibbled the edge of her thumbnail. "I think he'd be willing to do me a favor if I asked."

Shion furrowed his brow. We don't want you in danger, he wrote.

Karan smiled gently at the words and laid a hand atop Shion's head. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm stronger than you think. And craftier," she finished with a wink. But her face grew serious at the uncertainty in Shion's. "I'm your mother, Shion, I'm going to protect you with everything I have. I lost you once; I won't stand by and let them take you again, not when I can do something about it." The frown Shion fixed her with was nervous and sad. Karan chuckled and petted his head. "Give me a few minutes," she said to them both and left the room again.

Shion cleared the chalkboard, guilt gnawing at the edges of his expression. Nezumi pressed his lips together and said nothing.