PART II. PREPARING.
CHAPTER 16. CAGED.
My hovercraft version is not the one from the movie – I didn't like how they had the tributes all together. It made for a nice movie scene, and for pictures… but for the circumstance… I don't think the Capitol would have been stupid enough to put them all together at such a crucial and stressful time. Which, in the book, they didn't. I also forgot to mention, but I stuck to the book with the Interviews as well.
Very short chapter today. It's nothing big – just doing some last minute character building, a little bit of foreshadowing, and getting Fawn into the arena. The drama starts to get crazy with the dying of tributes next chapter – in Part 3.
~BTCS~
"Good job," Blight begins. He's sent the stylists and prep teams away – I've said my official goodbyes to Cinna, Portia, and Clio. Garnish is standing just over Blight's shoulder, silent for the moment. "You were both very good tonight. You will be a hard pair to ignore. I have full confidence that I will be meeting with sponsors shortly after the bloodbath tomorrow morning." I shudder at the words 'bloodbath' and 'tomorrow morning' in one sentence. Now that the Interviews are over, there is nothing more to do to prepare for my entrance into the Games. The Games seem closer, now, more real than ever, and I feel helpless.
"Tomorrow morning," Blight speaks carefully, and I pay attention, memorizing my mentor's last words to me. "you will be roused by your stylist. After giving you minimal prepping themselves, they will escort you to the roof to board the hovercraft. You will be allowed to eat there, and I'd advise you to, Raven." He turns to me. "You should drink, and eat a little, but nothing that will hinder you physically. You'll have food from the Cornucopia soon enough." Raven and I nod in agreement.
"When you arrive, you'll receive your clothing for the arena. No one but the Gamemakers know what they look like – not even your stylists. Clio and Tigris are prepared to help you make observations and guesses about the arena from the clothing. The Games do not begin until 10 o'clock, and you will have nearly an hour in the prep room. I'd advise you both to clear your minds during this time. Stretch a bit, pace the floor, even cry a little. Because after that hour, you're in the arena where everyone – especially the sponsors – are watching."
He lets this sink in. "When you are lifted into the arena, you have to start acting again. Raven, located Maze immediately, and run as quick as you can. Hide until you and October and Fawn can meet up." Raven nods, his face blank – as though he feels as helpless as I do. Blight turns to me. "You run to the Cornucopia as quickly as you can. Don't worry so much about killing tributes – I want you to be sure that you get your knives, an axe, and whatever else you can. Don't be so sure that the Careers will let you have everything they promised." I close my eyes, trying to suppress the image of me stabbing a faceless tribute to death.
Blight hesitates. "Tonight will be a long night for all of us – there is no doubt about that." He hesitates again. "Just know this. You are the most promising pair of tributes that I've had in a long while. You are here to represent District 7, and you shall do so well in this."
Then, to my surprise, he embraces Raven, and then me. He hesitates as he holds me, and I understand why he is doing this. "I know it's hard to believe, but you can win this, Fawn. Raven's not as likely to, but you can. Believe in yourself." Then he pulls away as if he never said a word, and walks out of the room without looking back.
Garnish embraces me too, and the Raven, beaming. "You are wonderful tributes." She tells us. I flinch at her words. I had thought that Garnish grew attached to Raven and I, but perhaps I had been wrong. "Don't worry, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She trots out of the room, and I think that we are rid of her till she reappears in the doorway, exclaiming, "Happy Hunger Games!" before disappearing once more.
Left alone with my ally, I don't know what to say. We both look at our shoes for a long moment before he says, "I don't want to say goodbye in this," he gestures to our extravagant outfits and I understand. There's a chance we will never speak again, and it's best that it isn't done in this apparel. "Can I come by your room in an hour or so?"
I shrug, knowing that I won't be sleeping tonight anyway. "Better make it two. It might take my hours to get this off me." It is a bad excuse for a joke, but it makes him smile anyway.
In my room, my screen is on, which I think to be odd. I glance around, but no Avoxes are present. With a shrug, I glance at the recappings of the Interviews, which we had skipped watching tonight – after all, we'd been present and been able to see all of the interviews. I instruct the screen to turn itself off, and take one last look at myself in the mirror before taking off the dress and tiara. I keep the necklace, however, grabbing my own carved duplicate and entering an icy bath.
The 'stardust' washes off me with surprising ease. I let my hair tangle and curl in the water, grateful to feel simple once more. I hold the two necklaces at arm's length, considering them. The carved one was a thing of simplicity, but had a charm in its own way. The metal one was beautiful – it took the carved necklace and made is dazzling. Just like me.
I emerge from the bath after what feels like a very long time, and return, dripping wet, to my room. My outfit from the night has been removed, and I request one of the simplest nightgowns from my closet. It gives it and I dress in it. For a moment, I consider the two necklaces, still dangling from my hand, and then put down the sparkling one. I slip my token around my neck.
I dry myself and have the wind-machine straighten my hair. Then I go to my letters.
I cannot stop my hands from trembling as I pick them up, thumbing through them. I composed seven letters in total. I wrote to my mother, Creta, and Aria separately, reminding them that I love them, and of the good times I wanted them to remember rather than the Games. Inside Mom's tightly wrapped envelope I place not only her letter, but also four others, with requests that she deliver them to their owners.
The first is to River. It is the one that Cinna found this morning. It begs him to move on, and to forget the life we may have had. It promises that I won't stop fighting to come back to him. Another is to his family – Byron, Tyrone, and Lily. My wishes for them to help River move on are inside, as well as good wishes to the end of Lily's pregnancy. "A life for a life, I've heard said," the letter includes, "Fate had best not cheat your young one as it has me." I also include that I wish they would express gratitude to the Mist Troop for their words in my goodbyes.
The Crescent Moon Troop's letter is in one paper. I thank them for the good times, and give them the responsibility of my family. It is one that they will not want, but one that I think they shall accept, for me. The final is to Web, and it is the shortest of them all. It contains only a few words: "Thank you. I have done all I can. Die peacefully." I know that Web will compose his final song – a rebellious song – and be killed later. Once I am dead, there will be no one else for him to live for.
Raven arrives just after I have sealed the last envelope. When I open the door for him, he stands awkwardly in my room. I understand. I don't want to be in here, either. The recently closed letters have touched my hands for the last time, with a sense of finality that leaves me cold. "Let's go up to the roof."
This time, I am the one that is late. I spot two shapes in the darkness where I met October just two nights ago. I go to one, the shivering body of Maze, and hug her tightly. Human contact is, for some reason, crucial at this moment. When I let go, I go to October. I hear Maze and Raven embracing behind us.
When we let go, we sit together is a tight circle. The Capitol is located high in the mountains, and is, by effect, rather cold in the windy night. I don't mind the wind or the cold very much, but my allies certainly do, and so I keep them warm.
After several moments of silence, October says, "Let's go over the plan." His voice is hushed. The cameras won't catch our hushed voices in the wind, or any other lurking tributes, for that matter. "Fawn and I aren't trusted enough to be allowed out to hunt tributes at night, or at least we think. So you'll be in the trees waiting for us the first night. The signal –"
"Will be a birdcall," Maze interrupts, letting out a loud, high pitched sound that was very similar to a bird's call.
"You will distract whomever we are left with," I tell October, "and I will have my knives ready to –" I cut myself off. I know the moment must come, but even thinking about it is difficult. Saying the words is dooming me, and acknowledging their truth is torture.
The others say nothing. Surely they understand. That's why I am allied with them, isn't it? Wasn't I first attracted to them because I felt they could understand me? Isn't that why I am not a Career? "And then we grab whatever we can and run." Raven states, his voice cold. "The Careers won't take long to return to the Cornucopia, especially after hearing a cannon."
I know the significance of this conversation – our last outside the arena. I cannot pay it attention, however. My heart is flying with worry, and my mind is flying as it tries to guess what will await us tomorrow. A desert? It would be a cruel joke for the Capitol to put me somewhere so warm. But, I think as a yawn escapes me, at least I have allies to believe in. So many tributes are tossing in their beds without them.
~~BTCS~~
A touch on the shoulder wakes me. I jerk up, blinking the sleep from my eyes. How did I fall asleep? I glance over to see October, whose hand is still hovering over me. I blink several times, my vision still spotty from sleep. Maze and Raven come into focus. They're both leaning on trees, fast asleep.
"We can't stay," October's voice is hushed. The time for words has passed. He gestures at the skyline of buildings, and my heart sinks. The sun is rising from a break in the mountains. Today, the 70th Hunger Games begin. Today I might die.
~~~BTCS~~~
Tigris is waiting for me in my room. She doesn't ask where I've been, and the prep team is not with her. I will never see them again. Some part of me is saddened – goodbyes are trying now, no matter how small. Without a word, Tigris leads me to the bathroom where I am quickly rinsed off and lathered. My hair is brushed and left loose. My stylist gives me a simple shift to wear.
We head up to the roof. I don't see Raven – our goodbye was on the roof. We'll see each other in a few short hours, but it feels like goodbye nonetheless. The roof is empty, and in the light has lost some of its magic. I don't look around, and grab the ladder leading to the hovercraft immediately. I am frozen in place, and lifted up.
A medic waits for me inside the hovercraft. She has a kind face, but she isn't smiling. "This is your tracker, Fawn," she tells me, moving closer. She has a needle. I've never enjoyed the feeling of hopelessness Capitol doctors give me. In a needle can be a life saving cure or a poisonous toxin. If I could move, I would flinch.
"This won't hurt too long," she says, and quickly moves towards me frozen body. She injects the tracker on my right forearm, and the ladder unfreezes me. I gasp in shock and pain, clutching my arm. By the time Tigris has entered, however, the pain has faded to a dull throb.
"This way." The medic leads us to a small room with two chairs and a table piled with food. There is a window, so that Tigris and I can look at the land we pass over. My mouth is sand, my tongue clumsy. I can't form the words to thank the medic. Tigris does, instead.
We sit. I stare at the landscape below, my breath stolen from me. Already, we have left the Capitol and its buildings behind for the snowy mountaintops and rolling green fields of grass and groves of trees. This, I think, is what the birds see. Birds are the only true free creatures in Panem. And the ironic thing is that I am not free, but am permitted to see this anyway.
For a time, at least. Too soon, the windows become black, and there is no more landscape to look at – no more forgetting that I am near the end of my life. The hovercraft doesn't appear to be moving, not without the aid of vision. I might be anywhere. But that's not true. There's a feeling of confinement, of being caged, in the hovercraft. I am an animal being transported for slaughter.
Tigris is eating before me, slowly, without looking at me. I stare, forgetting manners in my haste to forget my situation. With her long fang-like teeth, she can shred anything she puts in her mouth in a matter of seconds. I'm admiring the silkiness of her fur, something I haven't truly appreciated until this moment, when she glances up at me. I look quickly down, abashed.
"Are you not going to eat?" Tigris purrs. I say nothing, and grab a buttered roll. I force myself to eat it, and bite my tongue three times in the process. Remembering Blight's instructions, I also drink several glasses of water before I cannot force myself anymore.
Four Peacekeepers enter the room, and one says, "It is time to escort you to the Launch Room." I rise, surprised that I'm not shaking, and allow the Peacekeepers to form a boxed formation around me. Tigris walks behind us. As we exit the hovercraft, I see that it landed in the underground Launch Pad, beneath the arena. The Launch Rooms, or, as they are referred to in the District, the Stockyards, consists of several rooms underneath the arena, in which anything sponsors may want to give tributes lie, as well as the rooms tributes are in before they are sent to the arena. The rooms, as well as the arena, are preserved for Capitol citizens vacationing.
When we enter the small room with two chairs, a table, and the circular tube that will take me to the arena, I know that I am not truly caged. There is no escaping. The only way out is the tube, and the tube leads to death.
Tigris stands by the door, watching me closely. I wonder what the other tributes in the past have done in these moments before the arena. Have they cried, screamed, tried to kill themselves? Tigris is surely comparing me to them now. I must be dull, though, because I cannot come up with any emotion besides stillness at this point. Even the fear is gone.
"You're doing well," she tells me, and then turns towards the door as it opens. An Avox places a pile of clothing in her furry arms. Tigris walks towards the table, sitting the bundle on it. Slowly, she opens it, studying the clothes. I remember what Blight said – Tigris can help me understand what the clothes mean is in store for me in the arena. I move closer to her, looking over her shoulder.
A tight, light gray shirt lies on the top of the pile, with darker pants. There are sturdy black boots meant for running and a thin white and gray jacket that reaches the thigh. When I have put them on, I discover that the outfit is very lightweight and warm. In fact, I'm perspiring under it all. Tigris doesn't have to tell me that the arena will be cold.
Tigris takes my token from where it was sitting on the table, and puts it over my head gently. It settles outside my jacket, and I look at it a moment before back at her. "It is nearly time," she tells me.
Dread washes over me. Fear, sharp as a dagger, strikes in my chest. I reach for my letters, hidden in the pocket of the shift. "I should have given these to Blight," I admit, showing her the letters. "I forgot last night, and I didn't see him this morning. Will you…. see that they make it to those I addressed them to?"
Tigris looks at them a moment before accepting them. "I will do my best," she promises. My heart relaxes a little, knowing that the letters are safe. "It's time," Tigris tells me, motioning to the tube.
Fear envelopes me suddenly, leaving me freezing under the warmth of the clothes. I push it away, forcing myself to face the tube. "Goodbye, Tigris."
"Goodbye," she echoes.
I step into the tube, and it seals around me. I'm caged, perhaps more tightly than before. I glance up. There is a light, coming from above. It is blinding – sunlight. I am raised upward, just as I was last night, towards the light. Only this time, I can't see the crowd. And they can see me more than ever.
~~~~BTCS~~~~
Yes, that was short. It accomplished a lot, though :) I'm sure that you're very eager for the Games to begin, so I'll try to hurry the next chapter.