Chapter Two: The Red Market
Sam had but a moment to stare at the building before him in awe. It was squat, dwarfed by the taller structures on either side of it, with large windows made of glass stained red. A single sidewalk led towards the door to the building, the pavement flanked by flourishing rosebushes bursting with fragrant crimson blossoms.
Then the Peacekeeper was ushering Sam down the sidewalk, the sickly-sweet scent of the roses making him lightheaded. The red building's doors opened automatically and, with one hand on the boy's shoulder, the Peacekeeper steered Sam inside.
The doors slid shut silently behind them and the twelve-year stared at what was clearly meant to be a lobby of some sort. Everything was white, blindingly white: from the shag carpet on the floor to the paint on the walls, to the marble desk at the opposite side of the room. The only things that were not white were the black tables, chairs and chaise lounges scattered around and the Capitol citizens sitting at them. Men and women in expensive and extravagant clothing sat drinking pink, bubbly alcohol from fluted glasses, picking up dainty canapés with their fingers and chatting animatedly to one another.
Sam noticed a pair of Avoxes- one an elderly man and the other a young woman- were walking amongst the gathered Capitol citizens, offering food and drink on platters.
"C'mon," the Peacekeeper's grip on Sam's shoulder tightened and he steered the boy towards the marble desk.
A woman with electric blue hair sticking out in spikes around her head peered down at Sam with a scrutinizing expression. Sam lowered his gaze to stare at his feet as the Peacekeeper spoke to the woman.
"Fresh meat," the man grunted with a chuckle.
"Hm he's pretty young," the woman commented and Sam heard a sharp clacking sound, "Roughly what age?"
"Eight or so," the Peacekeeper told her in an offhand way, as though he could care less about her question. Sam knew he looked younger than he really was but he didn't think he appeared that young. Not that it really mattered anyway.
"I need something more solid, Cicero, you know that," the woman snapped.
"Nine, then," the Peacekeeper grumbled.
More clacking followed.
"District of Origin?"
"Ten," Cicero answered after a moment hesitation.
Sam frowned, wondering why the Peacekeeper would lie about where he was from. Maybe to prevent anyone from finding out who he was? Not that he thought anyone in the Capitol would care if they knew he was one of the Tributes from District Twelve.
"Crime?" the woman asked.
Cicero sighed, "High treason… Just like every other Avox."
"You know I have to ask," the woman retorted, sounding angry.
"Bring him around here," she said next and Sam was yanked around to the side of the desk.
He glanced up at the woman. In addition to her blue hair, her dress was long and elegant, appearing to be made up of thousands upon thousands of tiny sapphires that sparkled under the white lights every time she moved.
Sam instantly recognized the long, silver tube the woman held in one hand. It was like the one that had implanted the tracking chip into his arm before the Games.
Without speaking to Sam, the woman took hold of his arm, the same one in which the original chip probably still was, and pressed the end of the needle against the skin of his forearm. Sam didn't even flinch at the sharp, short burst of pain as the chip was implanted. The woman dropped his arm as though she'd been touching something dirty and spoke to the Peacekeeper again.
"We still on for Saturday night?" the woman smiled, her teeth as white as freshly fallen snow. She stretched out one long-fingered hand with blue nails and dropped a key into the Peacekeeper's palm.
Cicero grinned, "Of course we are."
Then he turned to Sam, took his arm and dragged him past the desk. The twelve-year old noticed now- how could he not before- that there were doors on either side of the desk. To the right was a white door, above which was a silvery plaque with words he couldn't read engraved into it, on the left, a red door with no plaque above. They went through this door.
Sam wasn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't this. A long hallway, lit by white fluorescent lights that flickered and buzzed, stretched out ahead, with a concrete floor and unpainted cinderblock walls.
While the lobby of the building had been relatively warm, this part was chill. Sam shivered, the cold seeming through the floor and into the soles of his bare feet. Now that he no longer awestruck by the opulence of the Capitol's citizens indulging in hors d'oeuvres or the sterility of the lounge, Sam's discomfort returned tenfold. He was so tired, exhausted in fact, and all he wanted to do was stop and sleep. His mouth and throat still hurt and there was a metallic taste every time he swallowed. He was cold, he was scared, and he was alone. No one, or at least no one who cared, knew where he was or what was going to happen to him next. He thought of his brother, wondering if Dean had made it back to their home District yet and felt tears sting his eyes. His stomach growled and Sam realized it had been a long time since he'd last eaten anything.
Sam looked up and saw that they were rapidly approaching yet another door, this one, again had been painted red. Sam decided he didn't really care what happened now as long as he could get something to eat and have some time to sleep.
Cicero, the Peacekeeper, shoved the door open and pulled Sam into the room behind him. This room was dark, darker than the lobby, certainly and even darker than the hallway they had just left. It took a minute for Sam's eyes to adjust to the gloom and when they did, the boy wanted to take back his earlier thought; he didn't want to stay here even if it meant he'd get food and a rest.
The room was large and wide, with a raised stage in the center and rows of cages along the walls. The cages, several feet high were made of chain-link fencing, and inside were men and women, all dressed in red, all Avoxes.
Cicero approached one of the numerous doors set into the cages, took the key the woman had given him and unlocked the door. The Avoxes nearest the door moved away, their expressions fearful. Cicero pushed Sam inside and closed the door, locking it. The Peacekeeper peered at the boy for a moment before raising his hand, wiggling his fingers in a mockery of a 'goodbye' wave and turned, whistling, left the room through a door painted white.
Sam stared after Cicero for a long time. The gravity of his situation struck again and suddenly Sam was crying, his fingers curled around the fence, shaking uncontrollably.
No one moved. No one came to comfort the boy.
When Sam turned around, the others looked away or looked down. He couldn't blame them. He was sure they had been in his position once.
Unsure of what to do, he sat down with his back to the fence and closed his eyes.
W
Sam didn't know how long he slept for, but when he awoke his neck was stiff and sore from being bent awkwardly. He rubbed at his face with his hands and glanced around. Nothing had changed. The other Avoxes sat, crouched or stood around him silent and sad, staring at nothing with dead-eyed expressions.
Sighing Sam moved away from the fence and found a spot against the cinderblock wall, settling down between a boy not much older than Dean and a matronly-looking woman.
For some reason (maybe he just needed to see a friendly face) Sam smiled at the woman. At first she averted her gaze as though she hadn't seen him. Sam looked down, feeling his eyes sting with tears again. Then a gentle touch on his shoulder made him look up. The woman was peering down at him, her arms spread. Without hesitation, Sam went to hear, leaning his head against her ample bosom. The woman folded him in her arms and embraced him. Finally, Sam's tears overflowed and dripped onto the woman's worn, red dress.
Warm drops, like rain, pattered onto Sam's head and it took him a moment to realize that the woman was also crying. He tilted his head up to look at her. She had her eyes closed and was sobbing without a sound.
Sam noticed that some of the other Avoxes were watching them but he didn't care. He wanted to stay like this, in the comforting embrace, forever.
W
It seemed to Sam as though The woman drew away from the embrace quickly, her expression alert, as though listening. Since it was so quiet in the room, only the rustle of fabric or a muted cough to break the silence, it was easy to make out the sounds of many approaching footfalls and excited jabbering.
Sam inched closer to the woman, frightened.
The white door opened and a group of Capitol citizens entered the room, talking and laughing with one another. A cadre of Peacekeepers in their black uniforms followed the brightly coloured citizens, standing shoulder-to-shoulder behind them, grim-faced and watchful.
Sam peered up at the woman, wanting to know what was happening. She didn't look at him; she was watching the Capitol citizens. Sam turned to look too.
A short, man, shorter even than Sam, extricated himself from the group and jumped up on the stage. He was wearing a gold-coloured suit and a sardonic grin. His pale, bald head- like a hard-boiled egg- shone dully in the dim lighting.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he called out in a surprisingly deep baritone for someone of such small stature, "Welcome, welcome."
The talking died down and the Capitol citizens turned their attention to the man on the stage.
"I trust you all had your fill of food and drink?" he asked and there were accompanying nods and mutters of agreement.
"Right, then onto the reason why we're all here," the man said and motioned one of the Peacekeepers to step forward.
The Peacekeeper, a tall, wiry young man approached the cages and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and the men and women wearing red all backed away. Though they were farther away from the Peacekeeper, Sam grabbed the woman's plump hand tightly in his own.
The Peacekeeper grabbed a hold of the Avox closest to him, a young woman, and dragged her out of the cage, closing the door after her. The young woman was pulled up onto the stage and the man in the golden suit started talking again, holding out a silvery tablet from which he read.
"She's seventeen years old," he told the assembled Capitol citizens, "A native of District Four. She knows how to cook and clean. She's been in our service for two and a half years."
The man looked up at the well-dressed crowd in front of him, "Shall we start the bidding at a hundred Credits?"
There was a murmur of conversation from the crowd and then a man with whiskers like a cat raised his hand.
"We have a hundred Credits, do we have two hundred?"
More talking; this time no one raised their hands.
"A hundred and fifteen Credits?" the bald man asked, "She's a hard worker, folks and young too." The man smirked and winked.
A woman raised her hand.
"A hundred and twenty, do I have a hundred and twenty Credits?"
No one raised a hand.
"We have a hundred and fifteen Credits, going once, going twice," the man hesitated, "Sold! To the lady in that lovely purple dress."
The young woman was pulled from the stage by the Peacekeeper and was ushered through the red door to whatever fate awaited her.
Another Peacekeeper took a second Avox from the cage, an elderly woman this time, originally from District Eight, who was bought by the woman wearing the purple dress as well.
Sam watched as several more Avoxes were sold, a sense of horror and dread growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but think of the Avox girl who had served him and Dean while they had stayed at the Training Centre and wondered if she had once stood where he had, waiting to be bought by some Capitol citizen like a piece of furniture. A deep sense of shame overcame Sam and he buried his face against the matronly woman's arm, not wanting to watch anymore.
W
Soon enough the auction ended and the Capitol citizens and Peacekeepers exited through the snow-white door, leaving the remaining Avoxes in silence.
Sam peered up at the woman, wishing he could talk, but settling for squeezing her hand tightly instead. She looked down at him and smiled, cupping her other hand against his cheek. Sam remained close to the woman, whose name he did not know, after that.
There was no way to tell the passage of time- no windows; no clocks- but the other Avoxes somehow seemed to be able to sense it. After what might have been a handful of hours, the Avoxes all began to grow restless, their expressions changing from hangdog to expectant. Many turned their gaze to the red door.
The woman tapped Sam's shoulder to get his attention and moved her hands and fingers in a strange way that confused him. She saw him frowning and changed her hand motions. She pinched her thumb and fingers together and brought them to her mouth, once, twice, and again.
For a moment Sam didn't know what she was trying to tell him and then it suddenly dawned on him. She was pretending to eat something! They were going to get food!
The woman seemed to know what Sam was thinking and she nodded. The red door across the room opened and three Peacekeepers entered. Two held something in their arms while the third was empty-handed.
As they approached the cages, Sam saw that they were holding small loaves of bread. The empty-handed Peacekeeper unlocked the door to the cages and his comrades stepped inside.
A male Avox, who looked as though he was around the same age as Sam's father, was the first to approach the Peacekeepers. Reaching out, he took one of the offered loaves of bread. Quickly, still cautious, the other Avoxes stepped forward, one-by-one or in pairs, not wanting to rush towards the Peacekeepers and spook them.
Sam felt the woman's hand on his shoulder, firm and warm, and he remained where he was as she joined the queue. The woman returned with a saucer-sized loaf of anemic-looking unleavened bread. She sat down beside Sam and ripped the loaf in half, handing him the larger piece.
The boy accepted the bread gratefully and took a small bite. It was stale and without much flavour but Sam didn't care, it was food, and to him, it was the most delicious bread he'd ever eaten.
Once both Peacekeepers had delivered the loaves the exited the cages quickly, locking them up again. Sam swallows thickly, the dry bread sticking in his throat.
The woman puts a hand on his shoulder and points to the far end of the cage where a spigot sticks out of the cinderblock wall at waist height, a collection of tin cups clustered on the floor beneath it.
The woman puts her hand around Sam's and guides him towards the spigot and watches the third Peacekeeper- the one who did not bring bread- approach a pair of handles set into the wall beside the white door. The Peacekeeper turned the handles and Sam watched in surprise and a stream of water squirted from the spigot in the cage and onto the concrete floor.
The woman quickly grabbed one of the tin cups off the floor, held it beneath the flow of water to fill it and then passed it to Sam. The water was icy cold and had a strong metallic taste, as though it had been sitting in the pipes too long but he gulped it down just the same.
Someone jostled him and he turned to see other Avoxes crowding around, trying to get to the water as well. Feeling the woman's warm, calloused hand grip his wrist, Sam allowed himself to be pulled away from the spigot and further into the cage. He turned to watch the others push and clamber to get to the water.
Sam took a sip from the cup he still held and took a nibble of bread before shoving into a pocket in his shirt, saving it for later. The woman smiled at him and sat down against the wall, lifting one arm. Sam felt his own lips curl upwards and he sat down beside her, allowing her to put her arm around him and hold him close.
Author's Note:
Thanks to CloakedDragonWing3721, Mistycat, Mama's Stories and Guests for reviewing.
Please take a moment to leave a review if you are enjoying this crossover so far!
