Chapter 5 :
Five weeks earlier…
That day, Effie entered the family house with mixed feelings. She was always happy to go back home but she had a hunch that the luncheon would end with a fight.
Her parents' home was a little out of town, it was a nice estate of several acres, the house itself was a grand mansion pre-dating the wars. She had been fascinated by its architecture since her young age, she was so passionate about it she had even considered becoming an architect at some point. She often thought that her father wouldn't have looked down upon that choice of career like he did on her job as a model… And given how their last phone call had gone, he was even less thrilled by her big news.
She could hear her mother ordering the staff about in the dining room so she bypassed the room entirely and headed straight to the double stairs. She caught sight of her sister and her husband in the parlor but she barely took the time to wave at them.
She had a bone to pick with her father.
She stopped in front of the gigantic silver framed mirror that directly faced the stairs and made sure her lovely bubblegum pink wig wasn't crooked, she batted her long fake eyelashes to make sure they wouldn't stuck – that new brand did that sometimes and it was embarrassing every time – and finally smoothed her short navy dress. It was a darker color than what she usually chose to wear but her father wasn't too fond of fashion and found the whole thing ridiculous, this was the only concession she was prepared to make that day. She surveyed her outfit one last time, concluded she looked nice, took a deep breath and marched to her father's study, her new navy high heeled ankle boots clicking rhythmically on the marble floor. She knocked on the door and waited until he had invited her in to push the door open.
Her father was a small man and her heels always enhanced the height difference, making the whole scene slightly ridiculous. His whole face lightened when he saw her though, and he greeted her with a smile and a hug.
"I'm very crossed with you, Daddy." she said, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Why did you have to go to Agravaine Rumpleton and tell him I wouldn't be a good choice for an escort?" Agravaine was the head of PR for the Hunger Games and he was the one who had personally contacted her to offer her a job. When she had called him back to accept the position of escort, it had come as a surprise to learn they were reconsidering because of what her own father had to say. "I told you this could be my big break."
Instead of sitting back behind his desk, her father leaned slightly against it, arms crossed and a sad but stern expression on his face. "And I told you I didn't want you mixing with that crowd. Once you're in the Hunger Games, you never get out." He sighed and shook his head. "This isn't for you, sweetie, trust me. You may think you will like it but… I know you, you're going to grow attached to those children and you will be unhappy each time they lose."
It was an aspect of things she had taken into account before making her decision. She had decided she could handle it. Being an escort was, first of all, all about looking good on television more than anything else. She didn't need to develop a relationship with each tribute and she didn't plan to. She wouldn't stay an escort forever, she would climb the ladder and maybe even end up being the first woman ever to present the Games. She wanted fame and she wanted it now.
"I think you misunderstand what the job entails." Effie crossed her legs at the ankles and placed her hands on her knees, perfectly lady-like, as her mother had taught her. "If you would just…"
"I am not the one misunderstanding, Effie." he cut her off, rather rudely. Her mother would have scolded him. "The world out there is dangerous and I'd rather you didn't run head first into trouble – which you would if you were involved in the Games, I know you, you would want to correct every social injustice and where would that take you I wonder?"
"Social injustice?" she repeated, frowning. "What are you talking about? The Games are fair. The odds…"
"Effie, sweetie…" Her father rubbed his forehead. "You've lived a life of privileges since you were born. You're old enough to know everyone isn't as lucky, you have to open your eyes at some point."
"I know that!" she huffed, a tad offended by the way he was speaking to her. She wasn't a little girl anymore.
"Do you? I wonder sometimes."
She squirmed a little under his thoughtful gaze. Maybe she shouldn't have asked her mother for so much money last month… But those new wigs were in fashion, everyone had one, and they were very expensive… Another reason to take the job as an escort : it was really well paid and she could make friends with stylists. "Daddy…"
"What do you think of the situation in the districts?" he asked her. "You want to be an escort, you must have an opinion on the subject."
"The districts?" she wrinkled her nose in disgust. The districts from what she had seen on television weren't places she would like to visit. "Well, the tributes are probably very grateful to be able to see the Capitol at least once… They are very lucky."
The way he turned his head and closed his eyes, you would have thought she had slapped him.
"Lucky? Lucky to be starving? Lucky to live enclosed in fences like giant kennels? Lucky to watch their children die every year?" he spat. She felt really uncomfortable all of a sudden and got up at once to open a window. She saw dust rising in puffs far back on the road, a car was coming to the house. Her father wasn't done though. "Do you think they deserve that? Do you think the Capitol is fair to them?"
Her mouth felt parched, her gloved hands were shaking on the window handle. "You can't say things like that, Daddy." She clenched her fist three times to get rid of the tremor, like she always did to fight stage fright before every fashion show. "The Capitol is essential to the districts. They would die without us."
"We would die without them." He looked disappointed in her, so, so disappointed… It was even worse than when she had announced her desire to become a model. "Do you really think that, Effie? Do you really think Panem is a fair place?"
Of course she didn't think that. Nobody with a brain thought that. But nobody with a brain would say it out loud either. There were rumors about people who had badmouthed the Capitol and who had disappeared, never to be seen again. The districts were a constant danger, they rebelled once, they could do it again so the government kept a close eye on them. It wasn't fair but she couldn't do anything about it so she chose not to trouble herself with it.
"I think Mother's luncheon is probably ready." she said, turning around to close the window. There were three cars at the end of the lane coming steadily closer. "Are we expecting guests?" The cars were black and sturdy and…
"Oh, god…" Her father was watching through the other window, he was deadly pale. It was as if he had just seen a ghost. "Effie, did anyone see you come in?"
"No…" What an odd question to ask. "I let myself in. I know how Mother likes to order the staff around on Sundays… Well, I did see Domi and…"
"Go to the library." He ordered her, gripping her arm to drag her to the door. "Hide. You know where."
She was starting to get scared. "Daddy, what's going on?"
He didn't answer but pushed her toward the double doors to the library, while shouting for her mother and her sister. Effie was barely in the room when she heard a crash and some frightened screams. Her father didn't seem surprised, he just pushed her further and further between the shelves.
"What's going on?" she asked at last, refusing to move. She heard a piercing yell and she knew without a doubt that it was her sister's voice. She tried to run for the door, to rush to Domitia – on instinct really, she might be the youngest yet no one ever picked on her big sister if she had anything to say about it – but her father pushed her back. His face was ashen, he looked panicked. "You can't help her. I'm not even sure I can. Hide, Effie, you have to hide. Whatever you hear, whatever you see, stay there."
She could hear doors banging open further down the hall and barked orders to search every room. "What's going on? Who…"
"Peacekeepers." he said. "I shouldn't have talked to Rumpleton… They have been unto me for some time now. I've been sloppy…"
"I don't understand anything you're saying. You're not making sense." She could feel herself becoming hysterical. "If they're Peacekeepers, then we're safe. All we have to do is…"
His grip on her arm tightened to the point he was actually hurting her. "Run. You have to run." He shook her a little. "I may not be able to save your sister and your mother but I can save you. Listen to me, sweetie, you run, you hear me? You don't let them catch you."
The sound of stomping boots was coming closer. Effie's heart was beating so fast she could swear the library was swirling around her.
"Go to Thirteen. District Thirteen. Jorna and Hadrian are there."
Jorna and Hadrian, the names were familiar and foreign at the same time. "They're dead." Had her father lost his mind? His brother and his nephew… They died years ago in an accident. "Daddy, they're dead."
"They're rebels." his father whispered. "You will be safe there. You're a clever, girl, Effie, you can do it. Don't trust anyone. Run and never look back."
"But…"
Another scream from Domitia and he pushed her again. "Go!"
She watched him disappear behind the library doors and half-wanted to go after him but then there was a loud noise, like a gunshot, and more screams, and she turned around and ran to the far end of the room, squeezed between two shelves and felt the wall until she found the catch. The secret door opened as easily as it had always done in her childhood. She had to bend a little at the waist but she managed to lower herself into the passage.
The house was old. No one knew what the gaps between the walls were intended for but they ran all over the house and the estate and had presented hours of amusement and glee to Domi and her. Effie was far from being amused at that point though. She thought it must have been a bad joke. It had to be. Peacekeepers? Rebels? District Thirteen? All those words were swirling into her mind and none of them made sense. She followed the sound of voices to the ground floor living-room, there was no way she could see into the room without betraying her presence but she could hear what was being said as clearly as if she had been in there with them.
She sat on the ground in the dust, not even caring about the state of her dress, and hugged her knees. Someone was shouting at Domi who kept calling her husband but he never, not once, answered her pleas. Her father's voice was screaming they didn't know anything and they should leave them alone. More screams, more loud noises and still Domi was crying and accusing someone of having killed her husband but it couldn't be right. It couldn't be.
The cacophony was deafening and Domitia's yelling wasn't helping Effie make sense of what was happening. And then there was a bang, like a gunshot, and she pressed her forehead against her knees, feeling sick. She waited for Domi to start screaming again but she never did. Her mother however let out a raw and horrible howl that warranted another bang.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. This was a nightmare. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Everything had been so normal that morning. She had got up in her cozy apartment, had chosen her outfit with the same care she always did, had called Cyrelle for two hours and… This was a normal day. This wasn't happening.
"There should be another one. The would-be escort spy." someone said on the other side of the wall. "Where's she?"
"In town." Her father sounded breathless. "At her apartment."
"Negative." another voice said. "We followed her from there. She's here, her car is in the lane."
There was a loud noise and then the first voice shouted again. "Where is she?"
"Safe." Her father snarled in reply. "Safe from the likes of you!"
There was another bang. Effie nearly let out a whimper but she bit her hand at the last minute.
"Find her." The voice ordered. "She can't be far. Shoot on sight."
Stomping of boots and then silence. How long did she sit there? It felt like hours, she couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stay there and shake. And then she heard something further down the corridor that made her jump to her feet. A rat. Or a Peacekeeper. How long before they'd find her? She couldn't stay there. She couldn't… She couldn't abandon her family.
She had no family left to abandon.
The thought made her want to throw up but she forced herself to think clearly and to forget what had happened on the other side of the wall. She couldn't think about that. Not now. Now she wanted to put as much distance as she could between that house – not home, never home again – and her. There were three entrances to the tunnels : one in the library, one in the kitchen and one at the far end of the gardens. The gardens were her best chance.
She started to run, her heart racing in her chest, the tunnel got very narrow and very cluttered with bits and pieces when she finally estimated she was out of the house. Her mother had warned them time and time again not to play in there, the tunnels could collapse she always said. Effie had never been afraid to roam the passages and she was actually glad for the familiar settings.
She finally reached the gardens secret door, her immediate surroundings were deserted so she took her chance and ran towards the outbuilding where her father kept his cars collection. She could hear the Peacekeepers in the distance but they seemed to be around the house and not really on the grounds. The garage was unlocked so she sneaked in and took the first inconspicuous car she could find: black. She had troubles getting it out of the building and she was half-afraid an army of Peacekeepers would storm in but she finally got in on the graveled path.
Except she couldn't exit by the main entrance.
They were probably watching it. She nearly came undone then, she collapsed on the wheel and started to sob. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to get out of there. She didn't even know how big the "there" was, it wasn't just the estate she had to get out from. This was all a nightmare. She could get out of there and then… what? Go to Thirteen. District Thirteen. Jorna and Hadrian are there. Thirteen didn't exist. Thirteen was long gone and she didn't know what her father had done but obviously he had gone crazy some time ago and she hadn't noticed anything. Maybe she should go to the Peacekeepers and tell them that. Maybe she was making things worse by running away…
But what about Domi and her mother?
Perhaps she had misunderstood the situation. Perhaps…
But she hadn't. She knew she hadn't. They were dead. They were dead.
She got the car in reverse and did a U-turn. She couldn't leave by the main entrance but she could use the trail in the woods. From there she could turn on the main road. And from the main road… Go to Thirteen. You will be safe there. You're a clever, girl, Effie, you can do it. Thirteen… She would never even make it out of the Capitol. Nobody would help her.
By following the path in the woods, she managed to reach the main road but there were Peacekeepers cars everywhere. All she could do was act innocent and unconcerned by the various cars she saw going in the direction of her parents' house. She stayed on the main road, drove at the perfect speed and convinced herself every ten minutes that she was going to get caught at some point and executed on the side of the road before being thrown in a ditch somewhere, like a dog.
But nobody stopped her and she reached the city. Eventually, the car got stuck into traffic and she parked it in the first space she could find, figuring she would be quicker on foot. Her dress was truly beyond repair but she brushed the dust off her wig and walked as if nothing was the matter. She didn't know she was heading for the train station until she was standing right in front of it. She walked in slowly and wandered about in the midst of people, wondering what the hell to do. Train stations weren't that frequented in the Capitol, the only places you could go to were the resorts in Four but she would never get there without a ticket and to get a ticket she needed money which she didn't possess given that her purse was in her car, in her parents' house front lane – her dead parents' house front lane. She could feel tears building behind her eyes, exhaustion and fear taking their toll on her body and she walked desperately closer to the platform.
Peacekeepers were everywhere. She had never noticed how many of them were there before. There were at least ten in her sight and probably more where they came from. They were busy supervising a group of people from a district or another who were climbing back into a train after their monthly delivering. There was a lot of them, skinny, wearing tatters… All going back to their district…
She dived into the closest ladies room, wondering if she would really have the nerve to do that. Fortunately it was empty. There wasn't any time to waste so she didn't let herself think twice about the whole thing. She washed her smudged make-up away, took off her fake eyelashes, threw her wig and gloves into a bin and tousled her hair. She looked hideous but not as much as the people waiting on the platform, it would have to do, though… Her dress was certainly dirty enough.
Sneaking in the group of district people wasn't as difficult as she thought. Peacekeepers looked bored and were more busy talking to each other than looking at what was happening. She took one of the big weaved basket people were hauling into the train and hid behind it as much as she could. An old woman kept looking at her but she didn't call her out and Effie managed to climb on. It had nothing to do with what she was used to. The carriage was clear of seats and people were sitting on the ground, talking softly in small groups. She curled up in a corner and hid her face in her arms until the train moved.
She couldn't believe what she was doing. She couldn't believe… She started crying, ugly sobs that wrecked her body… She tried to stop, to calm down, but she couldn't. People were looking at her now, probably wondering who she was, why she was there… How long before they'd report her to the nearest Peacekeeper? She was half expecting the train to stop but it went on and on… It was night before she knew it. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she blushed but no one was paying attention to her anymore. She overheard some chatters and concluded they were going to Seven. Seven was good. Seven was big enough of a district that he should be able to blend in. She was young, maybe they thought she was doing delivery for the first time. Maybe…
It was nearly dawn when the train began to slow down, people climbed off, laughing and exchanging goodbyes… She followed a little more slowly, looking around her in utter disorientation. Everything was foreign : the trees, the mountains she could see in the distance, the cold wind… Everything else was grey. Grey concrete everywhere. Even the sky looked cloudy, as if it wanted to match the desperate feel emanating from the landscape.
And people were looking at her again, she noticed. The shoes and the dress were going to give her away. Most people were walking towards cars – or what passed for cars in that part of the country – parked in front of the station. Effie walked in the town direction with a confidence she didn't feel, she kept wandering the streets until she felt the need to sit down. There were no public benches though, nowhere to rest that wouldn't draw attention, and there were Peacekeepers patrolling. She got rid of her shoes in a bin. The heels would betray her, she figured going barefoot would help her blend in. If she could ever blend in… The navy dress, although probably the plainest dress in her closet, was also catching attention. It was shorter than what women were wearing, obviously of better cut and fabric too… She was starving. It had been a day since her last meal and she wasn't used to that kind of deprivation.
There was nowhere to sit, nowhere to rest, nowhere was safe. So she kept walking until the sky darkened and she felt dizzy with hunger and exhaustion. She collapsed in an alley that had nothing to do with alleys back home. The houses in that part of town were made of wood, it was dirtier, poorer. She was sitting in the mud or in something that looked like mud and she didn't even care. She felt the laugh building in her chest, it shook her whole body until it morphed into wracking sobs. She was going to die. She was going to die in the mud in District Seven and nobody would be the wiser.
"Hey, there."
She bolted to her feet when she saw the Peacekeeper standing not two feet in front of her. He was old, white hair falling around his face, kind eyes. Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't think.
"I've never seen you around here before." he said. "Where do you come from? Where do you live?"
She could run. But they would know you're here, she thought. Did they know she left the Capitol? Were they already on her tail? She had to think and think fast.
"Behind the hill." she lied and her voice betrayed her. She saw in his eyes the precise moment he recognized the accent. She stepped back and rose her hands in defense, sure she was about to be attacked. "Please." she begged. "Please."
"Kids your age I find around here are usually looking for something to eat." the man sighed, before rubbing his eyes. "What happened to you, girl? How did you end up in here?"
"Please." she whispered again, frightened tears rolling down her face.
He frowned and went to grab her arm, she avoided him and tried to run but she was so dizzy. She fell. And everything turned black.
When she woke up, she was lying on a shabby couch in a wooden house and the old Peacekeeper was sitting on a chair, looking at her thoughtfully. She was so afraid she scrambled as far from him as she could but he didn't move, didn't try to do anything. He just nodded to a loaf of bread on the table next to a bowl. "You should eat."
Fear and hunger fought a valiant battle in her for a few seconds but hunger was the strongest and she warily approached the table. She was so hungry she forgot everything her mother had taught her and threw herself on the bread and the bowl of cold stew. It wasn't good by any means but at that moment she could have sworn it was the best dish she had ever tasted.
"Thank you." she said, at last, ashamed of her poor manners. She didn't feel safer in his presence though. That man was a Peacekeeper. He wore the uniform. Peacekeepers were her enemies now.
"You can stay here tonight." he offered. "And tomorrow you can tell me your story and we can figure out a way to help you." Her eyes shot to the window outside, to the lamps on the table. She had been so focused on the food she hadn't even noticed it was still night. "It can't be as bad as you think it is, girl, you'll see when you're as old as me."
He gave her a kind smile, dimmed the lights and went to the only other room in the house, a bedroom – she saw a big bed through the half-opened door. She sat back on the couch, wondering why he hadn't reported her. He didn't look threatening. She waited until all noises had died down in the bedroom and then waited some more before standing up again and looking around curiously. There were some faded old photographs on the fireplace's mantel. A woman and a child. But there was no trace of other people living in the house. Why hadn't he reported her? He must have understood where she came from… Her accent was a dead giveaway. Perhaps he was just kind. Lots of people were kind.
Don't trust anyone, her father's voice reminded her in the back of her head.
She couldn't take the risk. She found a basket of laundry in the corner of the room. It repulsed her but her dress was more dangerous than dirty clothes at the moment so she quickly shed the navy dress to put the first pair of pants and the first shirt she found. The Peacekeeper's belt was hanging from a nail next to the door, she used it to make sure the pants wouldn't fall off her. There was a pair of boots beside the fireplace. She took them.
She was at the door before she could give herself time to feel guilty.
She didn't know where she was but she wandered around until she found a particular house she had noticed earlier because of its ugly weathercock. It wasn't so difficult to find the train station again from there. She hid in the bushes on the other side of the tracks and waited until morning, trying to stay as awake as she could.
The District woke up eventually but there wasn't any uproar, no one seemed to be concerned about a potential intruder. The old Peacekeeper must have keep her presence a secret. She had to wait until midday to see another train. That one looked shabbier than any she had ever seen so she guessed it wasn't coming from or going to the Capitol anytime soon. Men loaded up heavy-looking lump of wood but they didn't climb on the train like they did for the Capitol delivery. It made sense, she supposed, it limited movement and contact between Districts.
Once again, the Peacekeepers looked bored and they were more busy chatting between themselves than actually keeping watch on who was doing what on the platform. She had to get out of this District, so she took her chance, she sneaked in one of the cars and hid behind a stack of wood. She soon heard the heavy door being shut close and the train's engine roaring to life. She allowed herself to relax. She needed to keep herself together.
Go to Thirteen. District Thirteen.
North-east. She had to head north-east, get to Twelve and from there… From there, what? Assuming she even managed to get to Twelve… What would she do? Roam the woods like a madwoman? Did she have a choice in the matter? It seemed every time she closed her eyes, the sound of gunshots boomed in her ears. Domi's voice, her mother's…
She would get to Twelve and from there, she would get to Thirteen. One problem at a time. She had to act with method. She was good at that: planning. First thing in order was to find food, then a place to stay for the night and after that she had to keep hopping on trains going north. If all Peacekeepers in the District were that careless, it wouldn't be that hard.
But, as she soon discovered, all Peacekeepers weren't that careless.
The screeching of the train coming to a stop woke her up rather abruptly. It wasn't long before the door slid open, letting in a cacophony of voices and animals' mooing and lowing. Livestock. Ten. She was in Ten. She could hear someone trying to bring order; she peeked around the stack of wood, the platform was in utter chaos. Cows, pigs, people coming and going and… On the left, a peacekeeper entering and exiting each car after a cursory glance inside. She was going to be found. She panicked and tried to jump from the train, praying that nobody would pay attention to her. Her shirt got stuck on a branch sticking out from a log and she had to turn around to free it with frantic fingers.
"You!" Someone violently grabbed her arm and she barely had time to see the white of a Peacekeeper uniform before she was flung out of the train and unto the platform. The drop was short but the landing was painful, she tried to break the fall with her hands, she only ended up with scratched palms and knees for her troubles. Fortunately for her, the platform wasn't made of concrete. She was sprawled on grass and dirt. "Nobody get on the train before we've checked the contents. You know the rules!"
"Cut her some slack, if you checked the car with any semblance of order we could keep track of what had been checked or not." Another voice shouted out over the small commotion her fall had caused. Hands helped her up and guided her further into the crowd while, behind her, the man who had come to her defense, obviously the one in charge of deliveries, argued with the Peacekeeper.
Someone asked her if she was new, if she had come from The Willows with the other ranchers. She had absolutely no idea what they were talking about so she only nodded and let them bring her to some of the bovines. When a woman handed her a rope attached to an actual real cow, instructing her to take care of it until they could get it on the train back to Seven, her eyes grew wide. She had never, in all her life, seen a living cow – nor pigs or goats and they were all around her. She was afraid the cow would notice her terror and try to run her over but it was really well-behaved. It mostly chew on the grass and watched her with a puzzled look. At some point, someone released her from the cow and gave her another task. People were so focused on what they were doing with animals they didn't seem to notice she didn't know what she was doing or that she was careful to give only short answers.
The day was long and hot but bottles of water were passed around and, when the train was finally loaded up, someone lighted a camp fire. She should have left to find somewhere safe to hide until the next train but women had come from town with food for the workers and she couldn't say no to the plate someone put in her hands. She understood quickly that people lived in small communities, in different ranches, and didn't always know each other. Big district. Her luck. Their southern accent was hard to decipher for her but she managed to understand they expected a delivery from Four the following week and were supposed to send a shipment back. A whole week to wait and Four wasn't even close to Twelve. What choice did she have but wait though? She inspected her hands in the flickering light of the fire: her nails, usually so lovingly polished, were all broken. Like her, she couldn't help but think. None of her friends would have recognized her if they could have seen her : she was covered in dust, sweat and other things she didn't want to venture on.
Her week in Ten wasn't as terrible as she thought it would be. There were big barns all around, fields with stacks of hay… Places to rest for the night were easy to find. She also became quite the expert at stealing vegetables and fruits from gardens and properties. The guilt was heavy. People in Ten might have had a great livestock, but they never ate meat and food was scarce. She was relieved to see the train from Four arriving. People had gotten used to seeing her wandering around but they were beginning to ask questions. She helped unload the few iceboxes full of fish and made sure to be the last in the car when the two cows and the three goats were forced to board the train. She hid behind the heap of hay, the Peacekeeper who glanced lazily in the car before shutting the door didn't see her.
Getting off the train was equally easy, sneaking around had become second nature by then. Too easy. She grew too comfortable. She stole food when and where she could, shellfish washed away on the shore mostly. An old woman with a toothless smile took pity on her one day and taught her how to open them with a big stone.
It was her third day in Four and she had just caught word that a train for Eleven would be departing two days later when she saw the knife. The docks were always swarming with fishermen, people gutting fish or loading trucks with seafood products. The fisherman was busy putting his day catch in one of these huge buckets full of ice when the rope tightening his boat to the dock broke and he had to dive into the water before the tide could carry it too far away. His knife had been left behind. Most people were pointing at him, yelling their support as he swam towards his boat but Effie only saw the knife. Weapon. The need for a weapon had never arisen before that moment but she didn't think twice before snatching it away in the huge pocket of her baggy pants. She had never stolen anything in open sight before and she walked away from the dock in fear of having been caught.
She felt safer once in the narrow streets. She felt the glee of having gotten away with such a stunt. Nobody cared, nobody was paying attention… She felt as if she could get away with anything so during the next days she grew bolder. Careless. The morning before the train was due to depart for Eleven, she realized that the weather was getting colder and that it would only get worse the further north she went. She knew a place where houses were small and where laundry was always floating about in the wind, strapped to clotheslines… She just had enough time before she needed to sneak into the train, so she nicked one of the heavy looking fisherman jackets hanging there. She was four back alleys away when someone called for her to stop.
"What do you think you're doing?" The Peacekeeper sneered. He was ugly, small cruel eyes and a bundle of black hair crowning a bald skull. "You know what happens to thieves, girl?"
She ran. What else could she do but run? She was quick but he was quicker and she didn't get far before he caught her by the arm. She struggled to get free, he lifted his gun and swung it down on her face, rear end first. Her vision flashed white for a second and she tasted blood from where she had bitten her cheek. She collapsed on the ground.
"Stupid chick." he cursed, grabbing her arm again to pull her up. "You're under arrest."
No. No. She had not gotten that far only to be arrested for a petty theft. They weren't going to kill her like they did her family. They weren't. She wasn't going to die. She didn't want to die. When she clutched the knife in her pocket and slammed it down in his neck, it was to the echo of Domi's voice roaring with despair in her mind. The man let her arm go and fell down. The gurgling noise was terrible and it followed her when she ran away. The blade was covered in blood and she threw it away before going back to pick it up with shaking hands. She needed the weapon. She needed…
Go to Thirteen. District Thirteen.
The train. She had to get onto the train. The news a Peacekeeper had been stabbed was on everyone's lips when she finally got to the train station. It was sickening how easier it made it for her to hide on the train. There were only two Peacekeepers at the station, all the others had gone to investigate the assault. At least he wasn't dead, she told herself again and again, while the train weaved around, at least he was just wounded. She wasn't a killer.
Yet she had gone for the kill.
She had stabbed at the throat because she knew it would be serious enough for him to let her go, she had watched enough Games to know. She had gone for the kill. Her cheek was throbbing badly but she didn't even care. She almost welcomed the pain, it was a reminder that she was human.
Eleven was the hardest District to blend in. Her cream white skin made her stand out compared to the dark skin of most people. It was cold. People were miserable. It was the worst District so far. It didn't take her long to understand that trains didn't stop there that often. Finding food was hard and she was more careful after what happened in Four. All in all, most days she was starving along with the rest of the District. She wondered if it was a cosmic punishment for the carefree way she had always lived her life before…
It took days before a train finally stopped by on its way to Twelve and it was only for fuel. She got from a conversation between two locals that coal often came from Twelve but that nothing much went their way. It was the poorest District. There were more Peacekeepers than usual at the train station; they remained next to the train, watching carefully anyone who stepped too close. She knew she would never be able to get on board the usual way. So she waited and waited for an opportunity that never came. When the train engine switched on, some of the Peacekeepers scattered around, talking about waste of time and how it was such a chore to search the trains… It was a long shot but she was used to that by now. She sneaked behind their back and huddled on the small platform between two cars, clutching at the safety rails, just as the train started to make its slow way out of the station. She had never done that before but it seemed less dangerous, somehow, than trying to open a door and get inside.
It only grew worse as the train gained speed. She was tossed about and all she had for her safety was the guardrail she was crouched against. The cold was sharper and the wind caused by the train rushing through woods and flatlands only made it worse. Soon, the landscape was covered in white. Snow. It never snowed in the Capitol. She hated snow. She couldn't feel her hands anymore so she threw caution to the wind and let go of the safety barrier to thrust them in the pocket of her jacket. She knew falling asleep would be dangerous but it really wasn't a problem given how afraid she was of tumbling overboard at every sharp turn the train took. The coat of snow on the ground seemed to only grew thicker with time.
How long had it been ? Hours? It felt like days. She couldn't tell. She was freezing, shivering and delirious in her terror to fall. When the train started to slow down she suddenly got very afraid. She couldn't stay there. They would see her as soon as they entered the District. She was lost if she stayed.
But where could she go? Where could she hide? There was no way to get inside one of the cars from there. There was nothing she could do except… She excluded the idea at once but her mind insisted it was the only possible option. The snow was deep, the train had slowed enough that it wasn't so risky. Who was she kidding? It was risky. It was the stupidest riskiest thing she had ever thought about doing until that very moment. But did she have a choice? She seemed to ask herself that question a lot those last few weeks.
Standing up was more difficult than she had expected, her legs had fallen asleep under her and it took all she had to slam her fist into them until they regained feeling. She nearly tripped stepping above the railing, the train was going slower but not slow enough. The snow was deep, she reminded herself, it would cushion her fall. She would be okay. More okay, in any case, than if a Peacekeeper saw her there and shot her without any question asked.
She couldn't do it.
She couldn't let go of the railings. She couldn't…
Her right hand slipped and she had to chose between slamming against the train side or let go.
She let go and free fell, back first, arms and legs flapping uselessly in the air. For a moment, she felt like she was flying. For a glorious, painless second, there was nothing but the white sky loaded with heavy grey clouds and she was flying. And then her leg sunk into the snow while her whole body collapsed the other way, her knee twisted rather violently, but that didn't stop her from rolling on the ground like her body couldn't get away from the train fast enough. She rolled down a slope, the snow was thinner, and sharp stones clawed at her flesh despite the heavy jacket.
By the time the world stopped twirling around her, her whole body was in pain. She rolled on her back and watched the sky, panting for breath. Nothing was broken, she thought with relief, after having checked her leg. Her knee was probably sprained but she could deal with a sprain. Her back however… The jacket was in tatters and her fingers came away tainted with blood. Not good. She put the jacket back on and limped to the shelter of the woods nearby. She didn't want to walk in the open in case of passing hovercrafts. She followed the train tracks from afar, dragging her injured leg in the snow and keeping her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket just in case.
It took her almost two long hours before she caught sight of Twelve. She went further into the woods, praying that no wild beast would try to prey on her – even if, at that moment, she was hungry enough that she would take her chance with any edible animal – and wandered around until she could see the electric fence. How was she going to pass the fence? Did she even want to? She had found Twelve… All she had to do was going north until she stumbled unto Thirteen.
But she needed food.
If she really wanted a chance to reach Thirteen, she needed food and better clothes. She had to find a place where she could steal all that. It almost made her smile as she hiked near the border of the forest, still following the fence in the distance, it was sort of funny how she couldn't even remember how long ago everything had started. She thought about the old Effie, the Effie who had worn wigs and pretty dresses and whose only worry had been to know if she should chose apple nail polish or ruby red, and she nearly laughed at the stupidity of it all. It felt like another life, a life that wasn't hers. Night was falling when she found what she was looking for. A hole in the fence, at ground level, she crept closer warily, it was at the foot of a hill and she could see houses – big solitary houses – looming in the distance.
She dug through the snow, trying to see if she could slither under that. It was supposed to be electrified but she couldn't hear the familiar buzz of electricity. Better safe than sorry, the jacket had to go, she made sure it was in the woods, out of sight, before limping back to sneak into Twelve. Her shirt got caught in the wire but she pulled, not caring about the tear in the fabric. She got up in Twelve, feeling strangely victorious.
Still alive, she thought.
She rummaged the snow until the blood spatters she had left behind had disappeared and then she limped up towards the houses. In the dark, it looked almost like a small village but it seemed deserted. Houses were in a state of disuse and neglect which, really, was perfect for her. She needed to get warm - she was damp with snow - and get some rest if she could. She chose the most isolated house, thinking, that way, she would be able to hear people coming up to the village. The back door gave easily under her pushing : it was unlocked, all the better.
The kitchen was littered with dust and empty bottles, whoever that house had belonged to hadn't bothered cleaning up before leaving. They might have left something behind for her to use. Clothes, gear… Anything, really. Clothes were her priority she decided. She was so tired… She crept out of the kitchen and into the corridor, the house smelt faintly like decay and the silence had an unnatural feeling to it but she told herself not to be stupid – of course, the house wasn't haunted, she wasn't a child to believe such things. She went up the stairs and to the first bedroom she could find, there were more bottles lying around and clothes too. People must have left in a hurry. One of the bottles was still full, a sniff confirmed it was alcohol so she soaked her snow soiled shirt with that and dabbed at the cuts on her shoulder, she tried to reach the one on her back but it wasn't easy. She put on the first shirt she found in the closet and collapsed on the bed, not even bothering to properly get under the cover.
She didn't know what woke her up, she opened her eyes lazily, wondering why her body was hurting all over, until she remembered the train and everything else.
"Please, tell me you're at least eighteen."
There was a man looking at her. Dirty blond hair framing a scowling face, cloudy grey eyes, broad shoulders… She bolted from the bed and flattened herself against the wall, forgetting her leg and her back in the process. When she reached the wall she was already panting in pain and in fear. The man – not really a man, he looked only a few years older than her but it didn't make him less of a threat – stepped closer and she instinctively stepped back, except there was no possibility of retreat. She had been reckless. She should have checked the house before assuming it was empty. She should have made sure there were no neighbors.
He rose his hands slowly and pointed at her face. "Did I do that?"
There was concern and even disgust on his face and she shook her head no, wondering what sort of man needed to ask that question. Did he make a habit of hitting women and then forgetting about it?
The following conversation was a sort of blur. He kept taunting her and she kept snapping back, all the while knowing she should just go, rush past him, threaten him with her knife maybe… But it wasn't until he actually said he would take her back to the train station that she felt the need to pull out the knife – she couldn't get the last time she had used it out of her mind, she just… couldn't. She didn't want to be that kind of person.
Hitting him was pure reflex though, really. And he had been the one attacking her, so she didn't feel the slightest bit sorry when she ran out of the house. It was snowing and the snow was deep, there was no escape in sight, her back was hurting and so was her leg; she sneaked into another house, making sure that one was absolutely empty, and waited by the upper window, watching the streets.
She didn't know what she was waiting for exactly.
For the man to fetch Peacekeepers, perhaps. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest when she saw him leaving his house because she was sure that was it. How many Capitol girls were running away from District to District? They would know it was her. They would know and they would shoot her on sight and she could hear Domi's voice in her head followed by the gunshot and her mother's scream and another gunshot and it played over and over again until that train of thoughts was broken by the sight of the stranger leaving a knife on a rock near the entrance of the oddly empty little village. His intents were obvious.
She swiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks and went out as carefully as she could just in case it was a trap. But it wasn't. He had left a hunting knife for her, it was better and probably more useful than the little one she had stolen. He wouldn't report her. Snow was falling hard so she retreated to her new house with her precious gift tucked in her belt.
She hated snow and her hatred only grew in the few hours after that when a real blizzard started rattling the windows and the doors of her shelter. She was freezing despite being inside.
How could she hope to reach Thirteen in that weather?
She tracked the light of the lamptorch flickering in the street with her eyes as the man roamed from house to house before he gave up and went back home. She saw him dropping something on the back door porch.
Don't trust anyone.
There was absolutely nothing to eat in her shelter, she was freezing and she knew, with certainty, she couldn't light a fire for fear of being found. It was clear that the man was the only inhabitant of this strange deserted village. People would notice two smoking chimneys… And even if she had been desperate enough to risk it, she wasn't sure she would know how to start a fire without burning the whole house down. If the man had not turned her in by now he probably wouldn't…
Don't trust anyone.
Curiosity killed the cat, as they said, but she didn't feel very catlike when she fought against the wind to reach his house. There was a woolen blanket and some food on the doorstep. She took the whole package and went back to her hiding place. She devoured the food in a matter of minutes and then arranged the blanket in a nest that would keep her warm enough. The night was cold but bearable.
The next day was worse. The wind had died down but the temperature were getting lower and lower. She could see ghostly vapor each time she took a breath. She was going to die, she knew it. The man must have known it too because she heard him starting his search anew.
Don't trust anyone.
The storm began mid-afternoon, by nightfall it was raging on. She was freezing. The blanket wasn't enough.
Don't trust anyone.
Sometimes, you had to take a leap of faith. It was a matter of choice once again, or rather, of not having a choice. He had a fire, his house would be warm. She had nothing and she would be dead by morning.
The short trip from the house she was hiding in to his was enough to drench her clothes and the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders. She knocked on the back door but the wind was too strong for her to be heard so she let herself in. It was warm, hot even, and it was paradise. She followed the noise to the living-room.
"Look what the cat dragged in." He was sitting next to the fire and turned to her slowly, there was a twinkle in his eyes and the ghost of a smile on his lips. The light of the fire projected strange shadows on his face. He was handsome. Not like a man from the Capitol could ever hope to be handsome but there was something raw under the bitterness of his smirk : a strength, a roughness that was tugging at strings she didn't know she had. There was kindness in his eyes too. Concern.
She wasn't thinking all that clearly, her teeth were chattering and she was shivering more and more strongly by the minute but she knew that man would be the end of her. She had come that far, she had succeeded in escaping the Capitol, but as she looked into his grey eyes, she felt as if she had fallen into another trap, even more vicious and dangerous.
She promised herself she would leave as soon as she could. The second the snow stopped, she was out of there. Somehow, he didn't seem like the kind of man one would want to leave behind once you had gotten to know him.
I feel like this chapter it probably the crappiest. Sorry. I hope you liked it anyway. Please let me know what you think!