Hey!
I am sorry for the delay! I know it has been a while since my last update, but I have been to Colorado, Missouri, and all over DFW for the holidays, so it has taken some time away from story-writing.
In regards to previous and forthcoming chapters, just know that I have some plans… Although this is a kind of write-as-the-ideas-comes-to-me story, I have had a general outline/plan from the beginning. I hope that you all are enjoying it and that you continue to post comments/suggestions/thoughts/questions/etc. and follow/ "fave" this story. You guys are awesome! Thanks for stinking with me!
Blessings and joy in 2014!
Disclaimer: Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins, not me.
When I wake up a few hours later, I remember where I am and, more importantly, who I am with. My eyes flutter open and focus almost immediately on another set of eyes, blue like a cloudless sky.
Peeta.
He smiles at me, and pulls a stray lock of hair behind my right ear. Goosebumps form on my skin at his gentle, loving touch. How long he has been watching me sleep? Weird...but also sweet. I smile back at him and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck.
"Good morning, sunshine," he whispers in my ear.
I tease him by making a grumbly sound in reply. My departure from the world of sleep is still too fresh for me to form words at this particular moment... and I just want to give him a hard time.
"Come on, beautiful. We have a long day of adventuring under the nose of the Capitol today," he adds sarcastically, as if it was the most wonderful thing in the universe.
At that, I groan - and this time I mean it.
"Geez, Peeta! You could've at least let me have a few minutes to bask in my peaceful denial!" I exclaim with a scratchy morning voice, peeved.
"Nope," he smiles sadly. "We should really start moving. There are only so many hours of daylight..."
"Fine!" I huff dramatically, as I sit up and begin to gather my stuff. I toss Peeta some food and drink to eat. Pretty soon, we are going to have to start hunting and gathering. There's only enough for a day and a half or so left - maybe a little more if we are careful.
"How'd you sleep this time around?" he asks.
"Better," I reply.
"Good."
"How's the knee?"
"A tad achy, but a lot less painful," he says.
"That's good news, but I still need to take a look at it," I say.
"Yeah, yeah," he teases, pulling his pant leg up past his gauze wrap, so I can clean his wound again.
It looks perfect. Well, in a perfect world, it wouldn't have happened, but regardless, it looks like it's healing up. The butterfly bandages are holding up well as make-shift stitches. And that's encouraging. I wrap him up in fresh gauze and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"You'll be good as new in no time," I say.
"All the credit belongs to you. You're an amazing healer."
"I'm not a healer," I deny, thinking of my mother and Prim. "I was just lucky enough to live in a house full of healers. I picked up a few things, is all."
"Well, I couldn't thank them enough for teaching you what you know. They really were incredible, Katniss, and so are you," he says softly.
My brain locks on to the word were. They were incredible, but they aren't anymore because they are both gone. I take a deep breath to help settle the pain in my heart.
"They were," I reply. That's all I can manage to say.
The rest of our morning is relatively quiet. As we journey on, my mind dwells on memories of family, of times that seemed a little less dark. I'm sure Peeta's mind is on his family too. Most of the time, when we aren't talking, it seems that we enter our own family-filled daydreams in our heads, but reality eventually settles back in to remind us that we are very much alone in a cruel world.
We pass more rocky hills, but these are bordering on mountainous. The trek is a continuous interchange between uphill and downhill through trees, trees, and more trees; it's quite exhausting. The summer heat doesn't help much either, but even so, I'm reminded that this journey would be a lot more miserable - not to mention dangerous - if it was winter, complete with blizzards, ice, freezing temperatures, frozen water, and scarce food sources. With that, I wipe the sweat from my brow, say a little prayer of thanks, and find a shaded place to rest for a bit.
The next several days blend together in a blurry mixture of trees and hills and kisses and hunting. Peeta and I are growing weary, and doubts are forming in our minds about Darius' instructions. We have kept north, covered our tracks, avoided roaming hovercrafts, and there hasn't been one sign of District 13 or any other form of civilization. It's terrifying to think that we may be lost or maybe Darius lied or maybe this whole thing has been a trap. I just can't let myself dwell too long on those thoughts, or else I might just break. I can't take any more running, hiding, trying to live under the Capitol's oppression. I just want to be free, free to live and love and learn, but unless we find Thirteen, we may be running for the rest of our lives.
I shift my thoughts back to the present. We are resting on the edge of a large, open plain, considering our next plan of action.
"I say we go around the plain and stay under the cover of the trees. I'm sure hovercrafts are still searching for us. It's the safest way," I explain.
"Yeah, it is the safest option, but we don't know how far it goes around. The last thing we need it to get lost. Besides, it's the middle of the day; if there were any hovercrafts out around here, we would already know about them, right?" Peeta says.
"I don't know. I just don't like it very much."
"It's only an hour or two in the open; then, right back in the trees. We'll be fine," he reassures.
"Fine, but we run. The whole way," I demand.
"I'm okay with that," he says with a sweet smile, pausing for a few seconds before speaking again. "I love you."
I blush and look away. "I love you too - even if you shoot down my plans," I tease.
"Hey! I didn't 'shoot them down'! We compromised!" he defends.
"Mmhmm... Sure... Let's get going before you hurt yourself," I say, stuffing the leftover squirrel and rabbit meat into our packs.
"Good thing I love you so much... Sometimes..." he trails off, as he puts out the fire.
I smirk to myself, kicking the ashes around to keep our presence unknown to anyone searching for us on foot.
"Ready?" I ask.
"Ready," he replies.
"Let's go."
We both begin the run at a steady pace. The first half-hour passes with ease since we both have plenty of energy from our last rest. At about the halfway point, we both begin to feel the exhaustion and the sting of muscle pains, yet we keep moving forward, unwilling to risk even the shortest of breaks. Speaking is difficult, so we encourage each other with quick glances and smiles. Three-quarters of the way. Something shifts. A rapid wind sweeps through the grass. A humming noise buzzes through the air. The nature surrounding us fades to silence.
No. No, no, no, no, no...
I look at Peeta and he has figured it out too. Something's up. I thought it was a hovercraft but there is nothing anywhere in the air.
Keep running, Katniss, I encourage myself.
But then, suddenly, out of thin air, a hovercraft does appear, along with a claw that is reaching for us. That's when the adrenaline kicks in. We both sprint, with all of our strength for the shelter of the forest.
"RUN!" Peeta yells.
Invisible hovercrafts? This must be some new technological development from the Capitol. Or else something they keep hidden from unsuspecting runaways. Lovely.
Our feeble attempt at outrunning the hovercraft is laughable. It merely picks up speed, and before I realize what's happening, I feel metal tightening around my body and lifting me into the air.
"KATNISS!" Peeta screams desperately. He jumps up and grabs onto the metal claw, trying to pry it apart, but to no avail. The metal claws have closed completely around me, trapping me like a cage. He throws a leg up and over one of the bars and stands on it like it's a ladder. Even if I wasn't stuck in this metal contraption, we are now too high to jump safely. At the mercy of our captors once again, we both await whatever horrors lie before us. My heart is crushed. After all that we've been through, the faint hope we had has been destroyed by the Capitol.
"It's okay. We're gonna find a way out of this," he says, holding my hand, as we are lifted into the hovercraft.
The next thing I know, we are both sitting in a plain, white room. A door sits on the far side of the room. Immediately, my hand frees my bow and retrieves an arrow, ready for an attack. I watch as the door opens to reveal a group of several familiar faces. Faces I was most definitely not expecting to see. The sight baffles me, and I lower my weapon temporarily, only until I have a better understanding of what is going on.
"Good afternoon Miss Everdeen," Plutarch Heavensbee nods in my direction and then turns to Peeta, "Mr. Mellark."
Behind the Head Gamemaker, I recognize Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's tribute mentor, and Cinna, District 12's tribute stylist. What an odd group of people to be flying around searching for me and Peeta. Shouldn't they be facilitating the Hunger Games at the Capitol? Peeta and I both exchange equally baffled expressions.
"Nice to see you two lovebirds again," Haymitch adds.
Cinna gives us a simple smile and a nod. It's odd how nice they all seem. I'm at a loss. None of this makes sense.
"What's going on?" I ask, looking from one person to the next.
"A rebellion, to be frank," Plutarch says nonchalantly.
"A rebellion?" asks Peeta.
"Apparently, you two are quite the troublemakers," Cinna remarks.
"I'm confused. You're not gonna kill us or make us into Avoxes or feed us to mutts or something? What the heck is going on? Someone needs to start from the beginning and explain, or I might be forced to accidentally injure someone..." I threaten, pulling my arrow back a couple inches but still not aiming at anyone in particular.
"She's not kidding," Peeta adds. I shoot him an annoyed glare, and focus back on our mysterious captors.
"We will explain everything you need to know after we clean you two up and get you fed," Plutarch says.
"But-"
"No buts. You've had a long journey," he interrupts me.
"Plutarch is right. You need your strength. It's a lot of information; it may be a little shocking, and there is much to be done," Cinna explains.
"Why should we trust you? Give us a reason why we should do anything you people say. After all, he is a Gamemaker. You know, the guy that invents the most creative and entertaining ways to kill children," I say, looking directly at Plutarch with an expression of utmost disgust and hate.
Plutarch's face contorts into a look of shock and surprise. "Oh my..." he responds.
"Why don't you just shut up about stuff you don't even know? How 'bout that, sweetheart? All you need to know is that we are part of the rebellion, working for District 13. We are plotting to take down the Capitol. If you wanna be of any use to the cause, you need to shut your trap, go freshen up as soon as we get back to Thirteen, and meet us in Command. Cinna will help you find your way around. We should be landing any minute now. Until then..." Haymitch finishes, giving us a wave of dismissal. Then, he and Plutarch walk right back through the door, leaving us alone with Cinna.
Up-close, Cinna is dark-skinned with just a touch of gold eyeliner on his top lids. I'm rather shocked by his simplicity, being from the Capitol and all. Based on my first impression, he seems pleasant enough, quite friendly. But all of this is so weird, and I can't afford to trust anyone except Peeta… yet.
"Sorry. Neither of them are really the empathetic types. My name is Cinna."
"Yeah. We know," Peeta says.
"Well, that's good. Now we can skip the small talk and discuss my purposes here with you two. As I'm sure you are aware, I was the tribute stylist for your District not too long ago," he says. "Well, now, my job, along with a few other people, will be to keep you two well-groomed and informed. We will talk more about that in Command. As for Plutarch, Haymitch, and I, we were part of a group of rebels that have infiltrated the Capitol. We escaped a few days ago along with some of the remaining tributes of the Quell and several victors, all of whom are now waiting back in District 13. We have been waiting for the perfect time to attack and escape the Capitol, and the televised report of your public capture and escape caused such a mass outrage throughout many of the other districts that we finally had the fuel we needed to begin the revolution."
"What? How did we help cause outrage?" I ask.
"Well, firstly, the stipulations imposed upon the districts by the Quarter Quell already had everyone in a fuss, but the public capture and imprisonment of two young teenagers along with the public execution of their entire families started a fire that is catching and spreading across all the districts. The Capitol thought that what they did to you would scare the people into submission, but I think it was more of the final straw. In the eyes of the people, the Capitol stepped over a line this year, and now, they are willing to fight back," he explains. His expression shifts to one of sadness and concern. "I'm sorry about what you have gone through. No one should have to watch their family die. I can't imagine the pain you must be feeling. I hope that, at least for a little while, you both can find some form of peace and safety in Thirteen and maybe a bit of time to rest, recoup, and grieve. Tell me if there is anything I can do to make any of this easier for you. I'm here for you both."
I am surprised at his genuine concern for our plight. Most Capitol people wouldn't care less about what we've suffered over the past few days. I guess Cinna isn't most Capitol people.
"Well, I'm sure any other questions you might have will be answered soon enough. We should be arriving within the next few minutes. Until then, I'll give you two some time to yourselves," he finishes, as he stands to exit the room.
"Cinna," I say before he closes the door. "Thank you." He gives a polite smile and a nod and closes the door behind him.
I turn to Peeta, and we both share expressions of disbelief and shock.
"Well, I guess we found District 13," Peeta says.
"More like District 13 has found us," I correct.