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Disclaimer: HG belongs to Suzanne Collins
Finally, we are led out of the hovercraft along with Haymitch, Cinna, Plutarch, and Boggs, a very large military man dressed in a drab gray uniform. The place resembles an underground cavern. The ceiling is earth and the ground is cement, and lights run all across the inside of the hangar, revealing organized rows of hovercrafts, unused and untouched. Thirteen seems to be doing pretty well for a district that has suffered years of isolation.
My mind flickers back to the current conversation between Peeta and Boggs. Boggs hung back to walk with us and welcome us to his district. Despite his intimidating appearance, he seems friendly enough.
Besides Boggs, I'm not sure how I feel about Thirteen. The fact that it is underground only adds to my discomfort and suspicion. Boggs explained to us that, since the Capitol bombings, the people have expanded and taken shelter under the surface of the earth, though they have suffered many hardships. That's the general explanation we have received thus far. At least someone is willing to answer some of our questions. I push for more answers.
"So... If your district has had all of these hovercrafts and weapons for so long," I say, motioning to the aircrafts surrounding us, "why didn't you do something before now... before 75 years of Hunger Games and Capitol oppression destroyed the lives of the other districts? I don't understand... Why now? Why not before?"
"Well, we don't exactly have a huge population. And many years after the bombing, after the Capitol agreed to leave us alone as long as we remained hidden from the other districts, a large number of our population suffered from various diseases. It took us a long time to get where we are now. We had to learn to collect and conserve resources, and even now, we still struggle from time to time. We needed a flame to ignite in the other districts, telling us they are ready to fight back; we needed undercover rebels working high up in each district; we needed to make sure that we play our pieces right because once we make ourselves known, there's no turning back."
"But... if you just recently rescued people from the Capitol, then you've made yourselves known to them, right?" asks Peeta.
"Correct. And making ourselves known can only mean one thing: war."
War.
What have we gotten ourselves into?
Peeta and I are escorted onto an elevator, down several floors, around a few corners, to our own rooms across a white, tiled hallway from each other. Everything in Thirteen seems plain and dull, and I'm already feeling slightly claustrophobic, knowing we are so far from the surface.
"Wash up and take a rest. We have some things to take care of before you two join. We will be back to collect you in a couple of hours," Boggs says.
"Thank you," I reply.
"See you soon," Cinna nods at us politely.
I smile and so does Peeta. Plutarch smiles as well, in his odd, TV-ready, Capitol way, and Haymitch simply waves his hand to dismiss himself.
I turn to face Peeta.
"Quite the adventure we had today, huh?" he speaks up.
"Yeah. I guess so..." I reply. "Peeta, I don't know what they have planned, but we should be careful."
"We will. I promise. What these people are offering us is a chance to fight back. That's exactly what we want, isn't it?" he asks.
"Yes, but a revolution... war... That's no small thing. I'm just saying we can't be too rash. I - I just... can't afford to lose you," I explain, trying to hold back tears.
His eyes fill with water, just like mine are, but before he lets himself go, he opens the door to his room pulls me inside and draws me into his chest.
"You won't. I promise. I will be here for you. Always."
I let myself go for a few minutes - so does Peeta, and when we both fall silent, he pulls away, takes my hand, and guides me to the small gray-sheeted bed in the corner. He motions for me to lie down first, so I do. Then, he curls up next to me. For several minutes we just lay there, gray eyes connected to blue eyes, lost in each other. He gently strokes my hair, and then his fingers wipe the tears from my cheeks. I feel safe here. Before I have time to register my exhaustion, my eyes close, and sleep takes me.
"Peeta Mellark!" Knock, knock. "Peeta, your presence, along with that of Ms. Everdeen, has been requested in Command!" a familiar, high-pitched voice calls out.
I startle awake and so does Peeta.
"One second!" he yells through the door.
We both fix our pillow-affected hair as much as possible. Peeta pats his down, and I re-braid my hair. Neither of us has showered. Oh well. I splash some water on my face and dry off with a towel to remove the layer of dirt that has collected atop my skin from our lengthy journey. That'll have to do.
When we open the door, Cinna and Boggs are there along with a woman who I immediately recognize as Effie Trinket, the District 12 tribute escort. District 13 has definitely put a damper on her extravagant Capitol style. The pink hair and brightly colored nails are what give her away. Her demeanor isn't as perky and cheery as I've always seen it on Reaping Day or on television, but she's still the same person, just dressed in gray District 13 uniforms, learning to survive in a place where resources are scarce. I wonder how many other district stylists and escorts and mentors they collected for the rebel cause.
"Oh!" she exclaims as we both walk out of Peeta's room. I was a little worried about the reaction we would get when they figured out we stayed in the same room. "Oh, well, ahem... I see you both have yet to shower... I guess there will be more time for that later," she says averting her eyes from ours awkwardly. Apparently, she doesn't approve of our room-sharing situation. I look at Cinna and he gives a smile and a wink.
"We were both so exhausted. Showers where the last thing on our minds," Peeta explains.
"No matter. We are here to escort you to Command. President Coin, among others, has some important information to share with you two," she says in her odd Capitol accent.
As we turn to head toward the elevators, Cinna falls back, leans in, and whispers, "Don't mind her. She's really big on manners and etiquette and all that. Most people won't care. I hope you both rested well."
"We did thanks," I say with an amused smile.
Peeta grabs my hand, and we take the elevator down even farther. How deep underground is this place? Finally, we come out into another bleach-white hallway with several doors. The entrance to Command is at the end of the hallway. Boggs has to scan his arm, which is covered in ink, to receive clearance to pace over the threshold.
"Good afternoon Ms. Everdeen, Mr. Mellark," says a gray haired woman with a cool voice, as she stands to greet us both. "Nice work Plutarch, Haymitch, Cinna, Boggs... I am glad that we found them before the Capitol did." She takes a seat at the head of a long table. "My name is Alma Coin, and I'm president of this district. I hope you have found everything comfortable?"
"Yes, thank you," I say.
"Good. Have a seat. We have a lot to cover."
We both take a seat at the table along with everyone else, including Effie and a few other people of whom I am only familiar with a few. Obviously, Boggs, Haymitch, Cinna and Plutarch are already known to me, but I recognize a few others. Victors. Finnick Odair, the District 4 winner a few years back, who has always been a favorite of the Capitol. Johanna Mason, the District 7 winner with amazing ax-wielding skills. Beetee, from District 3, is practically a genius. The crazy red-headed victor that went a little cuckoo after her Games is here as well, but I don't know her name. A few other faces are slightly familiar, probably because I've seen them on the television at some point in the last few years.
All of this, it's so weird.
The next several minutes pass as various individuals explain the current situation within the districts. The defiance of the Capitol exhibited by Peeta and me, our imprisonment along with the execution of our families, and our escape from Twelve all served as a spark which has ignited and spread across Panem. The people needed to see someone successfully defy all that the Capitol stands for, and we did, by belittling the Games. Across Panem, we are called many things such as "The Love-Struck Teenagers of District 12" but the universal name we have acquired is "The Mockingjays." Apparently, Panem noticed the mockingjay pin Peeta have me as well as my mockingjay-approved singing voice. All that to say, we have become a beacon of hope, the symbol of the rebellion, all within a week.
I'm not so sure I feel entirely comfortable with all of this.
"With that being said, I know that you've been through more than most people deal with in an entire lifetime, but we need your help to establish a Panem that is free from the Capitol's clutches. The people need to see you both fighting with and supporting the rebels. Our aim is simple: you two become the rebels' Mockingjays with the help of Cinna, Haymitch, Effie, their stylists, and myself along with my team. We will capture your efforts on film to air across Panem, right under the Capitol's nose. We will give you some time to mull it all over, of course..." the ex-gamemaker explains.
"We'll do it," replies Peeta.
I turn and look at him, confused and frustrated with Peeta's sudden decision and the fact that he is speaking for me.
"Peeta, can I have a word with you for a moment... privately?" I ask, as I make my way to the hallway.
He looks at me sternly, relents a few seconds later, and walks towards the open door. As soon as the door closes, I let my frustration go.
"Do you mind telling me why you volunteered us to be the face of the Rebellion without my consent?!" I exclaim.
"Katniss, this is our chance to fight the people that murdered our families and killed thousands of innocent people. I don't necessarily like or agree with a lot of the crap that comes along with war, but I can't let us pass up an opportunity to help make a better future for the next generation. If we ever have the chance to have children, would you want them to grow up in a world like what we experienced at the hands of the Capitol? Or would you want them to have a place to grow up free and happy? That's what we are fighting for. We have a voice in this, Katniss. That's huge."
"Okay, we should do it..." I respond with a slight tone of reluctance.
"You say so, but why do I hear differently? What do you really think?" he asks.
"If we do this Peeta, we are encouraging war and death and a cause that might fall to pieces in a few weeks. Hundreds of lives could be lost because of our actions. And if we fail, we are as good as dead in the hands of the Capitol. We aren't safe, even here," I explain, finishing with a sigh of genuine exhaustion.
"We will never be safe until Snow is dethroned and the Capitol held accountable for its actions. We can do this, Katniss. We love each other; we want what is best for this country. That's all that we need."
"I guess so..." I cave. I still have my doubts, but I trust Peeta. He knows when to draw the line. "But only because it's you..." I say with a slightly playful smile.
He takes my hand and leads us back into Command. Almost as soon as we walk back inside, Plutarch speaks up: "So?"
"Like I said, we'll do it," says Peeta.
"Great! We start tomorrow!"
"Great!" I reply in a mock-excited voice.
Something about Plutarch just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe it's the fact that he used to be in charge of the Hunger Games... Yeah, we won't be buddies any time soon, that's for sure.
"Perfect," Coin responds cooly. "Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, and Plutarch and their teams will be in charge of your Mockingjay duties, and Commander Boggs will oversee your activities and report back to me."
"Sounds grand. Is that all?" I ask, annoyed and ready to shower and eat some food.
Suddenly, all my questions can wait. I just want to get away from all these people. I imagine a lot of this feels similar to how a tribute feels before the Games. Like you are being used. Like you are merely a means to an end. It's not right. I don't like it. Actually, I hate it, but what other option do we have? We have nowhere to go.
"Basically. If there are no more pressing questions, you may go, and one of your mockingjay team members can help explain anything else that may arise. Be ready by 08:00 tomorrow for your first day on the job," says Coin.
Peeta looks like he is about to ask another question or say something, but I give him a firm glare to communicate my feelings on the matter. If we need answers, we can ask Cinna or Haymitch or even Boggs. I don't like the others much yet.
"Well, thanks. I guess we will see you tomorrow, then? One last thing: where could we get some food?" I inquire.
"Well, dinner will begin shortly in the dining hall. Boggs can escort you there," replies Coin.
Boggs leads us to the dining hall, as Coin said he would. On the way, I take advantage of his willingness to help once again and ask him about all the stylists and District 12 people that were rescued from the Capitol. Apparently, Cinna and Haymitch were originally the only two from Twelve working undercover for the rebels, but eventually the others found out and jumped on board. Effie was the hardest to convince, but with Cinna's help, she turned in the end. He said it can be really difficult for the Capitol people to leave their lifestyles of convenience and extravagance for the simplicity of a place like Thirteen - not to mention the challenge presented when trying to convince people of the existence of District 13 in the first place.
I had a hard time figuring out how they managed to rescue so many people at once, but he explained that they set off some sort of diversion and everyone met at a specified rendezvous location on the outskirts of Capitol territory. Ultimately, he acts like it was relatively simple; it just required a lot of pre-planning to make sure everyone made it at the same time.
"So what kind if diversion are we talking about here?" asks Peeta.
"Let's just say this year's Games will not easily be forgotten," he remarks with a smirk.
"Wait, you messed with the Games as a diversion?" I ask incredulously.
"Well, it was more than a diversion. We had been planning it for a while. We wanted to introduce ourselves to the rest of Panem with a bang, so we plotted with some of the district mentors - the victors you probably noticed back in Command - as well as Plutarch to bring down the arena force field and rescue some of the tributes. Unfortunately, we were only able to rescue a few. One of them was from your district, a little girl -"
"Iris?! The little eight-year-old!?" I ask excitedly. Peeta and I exchange looks of shock and relief. I cannot believe this news. The little girl is alive! I'm sure she is terrified without her family in such a strange place. I want to be sure to let her know we are here for her.
After a lengthy walk through winding white hallways and an elevator ride leading to more hallways, we finally make it to the dining hall.
"Well, here it is: the dining hall. This is where meals will be served every day at 08:00, 12:00, and 17:00 for one hour. If you miss a meal, you will have to wait until the next meal hour. Understand?" Boggs asks.
"Got it," Peeta says.
"I'll see you two in the morning."
"Thank you," I say.
The cafeteria is much like what one would expect, except everything is still whitewashed and tiled, devoid of personality. A line on the left is where people obtain their food according to some special database that records every person's measurements and calculates their food portions accordingly. Peeta and I walk through the line and receive our servings of pea soup and bread with a side of peaches. Peeta's portion is significantly larger than my own. I understand why, but I can't help but envy him.
We scan the room to find a table, and I notice a small, dark-haired girl sitting off on her own. Iris. I glance at Peeta, who sees her too, and he leads us in her direction.
"Hi, Iris. My name is Katniss and this is Peeta. We are both from Twelve, and would like to sit with you. Would you be okay with that?" I ask gently.
"Okay," she says shyly.
I sit next to Iris, and Peeta sits across from her.
"You probably don't know who we are, but we saw you at the Reaping. You remind me of someone I lost a few days ago," I say.
"I know you. You tried to stop them from taking me... Your families were killed. And now you are the Mockingjays," she explains in a soft voice.
"Yes. I guess a lot of people saw that on television and all, huh?" I reply.
Silence is the response I receive. Several awkward moments later, Iris speaks up in her soft, sweet voice, "Thank you."
I smile and wrap my right arm around her lightly.
"Any time. If you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, you can find us. We are all family here," Peeta consoles. "We are in room 3205."
"And 3204, across the hall," I add quickly, giving Peeta a quick glare of disapproval.
He smirks, "Of course! But if you try one of the rooms and don't get a response, try the other. We spend a lot of time together."
"Yeah..." I deadpan, annoyed. "So... How are you doing? I mean - How do you like Thirteen?"
"It's okay, I guess," she says with a soft smile. "Better than where I was before..." Her face goes blank and her eyes gloss over. I don't know what happened in that arena for those few short days, but whatever it was must've been horrible.
"Well, you're safe now, and that's all that matters. Besides, we are going to blow the Capitol out of the water for what they've done," I say angrily.
Seeing little Iris and the reality of what so many children and their families have gone through because of the Capitol and its Games has ignited something inside me. Now I understand what Peeta meant earlier. We must fight for what is right. In that moment, I resolve to put all that I am into the rebellion. For Iris. For our futures. For our families.