ME: Now for the snare-bombs.
Gale and Enobaria were no longer in District Two; now they were in a far poorer area of Panem, District Eleven.
For nearly three fourths of a century since the Treaty of Treason, the locals had been forced to accept the tyranny of the Capitol. Heat, exhaustion and hunger were just a few woes of the citizenry; Peacekeepers, conditioned from birth to obey, were zealous in ensuring the residents followed every arbitrary law, up to and including sending two of their young every year to a televised death match that did not produce Victors most of the time for Eleven.
Now, a combination of ragtag local rebels and more uniform District Thirteen troops fought against District Eleven's Peacekeepers on the battlefield that the agricultural center
Gale would've spit on the ground if it wouldn't have hit. "I see Thirteen's finally gotten involved in getting the White Bastards that carted off Rue and Thresh among countless others to the Games removed and put in the dirt where they belong."
"Purnia was sent along with whatever garrison Peacekeepers were lucky enough to leave with Thread," Enobaria retorted. "According to the Capitol news reports-the only information legal for Panem by word of Snow, and thus what myself and my compatriots were unfortunate enough to believe-Thirteen firebombed Twelve with disguised hovercrafts to pin the blame on the Loyalists."
Gale still had yet to forgive Two-and frankly both the remaining Career Districts as well as the Capitol- for killing the vast majority of his neighbors, Seam or Merchant. "Since when have Peacekeepers like you cared about collateral damage?"
Enobaria removed her helmet, but her words would've carried the same effect regardless of whether or not her face was visible. "An entire District is a much different scenario then two children a year, Butcher Hawthorne, and last time I checked I only rode on aircraft. The bombers in question weren't even flown by regular aviators; crewing them was a group of black ops pilots whose unit in question forsook any basic morality to directly serve Snow. And did Thirteen help anyone in my District, yours or this one for seventy-five years?"
Gale opened his mouth, but she silenced him before he could speak. "Rhetorical question. Now watch."
Purnia was now running with three "New" Peacekeepers (the trio in question were fresh recruits that arrived when Thread took control of Eleven, and thus "new" regardless of actual experience) towards the frontline. While the other three (out of naïveté and genuine zeal) were convinced the Capitol was the only way to order, Purnia merely wanted to keep as many civilians from getting killed as possible regardless of flag. She knew from first-hand experience that what Thread wanted enforce didn't work in Twelve (and she had a feeling it didn't work in Eleven or any other District outside of the Career ones) and thus sympathized with the Rebellion, but it was killed or be killed now.
Suddenly Purnia tripped and fell face first into a ditch. This proved to be fortunate, for soon a rebel artillery shell fell nearby.
The three other Peacekeepers barely had time to shout out a warning before they were propelled backwards into the ditch. Two died virtually instantaneously, while the survivor crashed right next to Purnia.
Getting up and wiping the mud off her visor, Purnia saw that even a Capitol doctor couldn't have helped him. Amidst the vocalizing of his pain while bleeding out from fatal wounds, he nodded and she pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The tears had only begun to fall when an explosion and more screams were heard, more gut-wrenching fo Gale then the Peacekeeper's (who he was surprised to feel at least revulsion for).
"Wonder who that would be?" Enobaria glared at him murderously. "Is it Thread? One of those political officers from Thirteen? No, it's Thresh's relatives!"
Gale sputtered incoherently, but as they travelled to a damaged warehouse he could see she wasn't lying.
A stray snare-bomb had fallen into the warehouse, where both Thresh and Rue's families had taken shelter to avoid being shot by either a Peacekeeper or a Thirteen grunt. Unfortunately for both Thresh's grandmother and his sister, the bomb had landed near them and gone off before they could get clear like Rue's family were, being farther away from where the bomb landed and thus out of range.
Seeing his neighbors needed help, Rue's father opened the door just as Purnia charged in to kick it down if need be.
He instantly froze, horrified at the prospect of no longer being able to protect his wife and five remaining children. Purnia, however, ripped off her helmet one-handed and only grabbed him by his overalls.
"Who's hurt?!" She screamed, sounding more terrified at the prospect of civilians bleeding to death than authoritative.
"Two neighbors," he answered, grateful that not only his sons and daughters didn't see him gunned down but that Purnia was concerned with lives of ordinary citizens like him.
Gale suddenly felt sick to the stomach, knowing what would happen.
"Get your children out of here and a few medics," Purnia ordered the mother, praying that they all would live to the day when bullets weren't streaming through the air of Panem
"All of you," Thresh's grandmother said, "run!"
"Don't worry," Purnia replied as she walked up with Rue's father to try to treat them with her IFAK, "you and your granddaughter will make it-."
"NO!" She screamed to the best of her ability, which wasn't much given her age and injuries. "GET BACK, YOU YOUNG FOOLS! IT'S TOO DANGEROUS TO-."
Tragically, she was right. Just as Purnia opened her IFAK, the snare-Bombs second explosion went off. Unlike the first one, this was designed to be fatal to any and all victims.
Rue's mother ran back in seconds later, and she fainted in sheer shock from what was present. Gale didn't blame her, for he felt like vomiting the contents of his stomach over and over.
Blood and gore was everywhere, staining what was left of the warehouse. What were once two young women who might've been friends if they hadn't grown up on opposite ends of the totem pole, a devout family man and an elderly, kindhearted grandmother were now indistinguishable.
Enobaria put a hand on his shoulder, but it wasn't for comfort. "How does it feel, Gale Hawthorne, knowing the bomb that you designed to wound Peacekeepers then kill any medics who helped them wounded two civilians on top of windowing a mother of six who already lost her eldest and murdered your friend?"
Gale didn't speak, he just looked straight at the Peacekeeper officer, who in turn did nothing but direct her contempt towards her. "What happened to the one who wanted to kill the Oh-So-Evil-Monsters-In-White, Butcher? Do you feel like a hero yet? No?! Well why the hell didn't you think of that when you designed these damn things for Thirteen?!"
Gale wanted to die in a hole. His bloodlust slaughtered not only Purnia but three District Eleven civilians, one of which was around his age when the Rebellion began. And he realized in horror even though Enobaria stayed silent that countless other cases like this must have happened.
If his father would see him, Gale knew he would've asked one thing: "Who the hell are you and what have you done with my son, Monster?"
ME: A/N: Well this was the darkest chapter I've written so far, with more to come.
This was to address Gale's snare-bomb creation, but also Purnia's fate. Since she didn't live the rest of her days as an Avox like Darius (who got carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey in front of everyone's favorite baker, courtesy of some asshole Peacekeeper(s) who probably made Thread look like Jar Jar Binks), chances are she either burned to death like the vast majority of Twelve or died as a Peacekeeper. Her being killed trying to help civilians injured by a snare-bomb killed two birds with one stone.