Chapter 9

Blood and Oil

Stephen

Prim's kiss is still on my lips when we touch down in District 5 in the pouring rain. It doesn't rain much here – it's pretty dry most of the time. I almost don't recognize the dry, yellow landscape which is always bathed in bright yellow sunlight when it's flooded with rain and the seemingly relentless sun is blocked out by gray clouds. We're in my hometown – District 5 is spread out, but there's a few large cities. This one is called Amarillo, which I hear used to be the name of another city before the Devouring. If that's true, the first Amarillo must be in ruins somewhere in the wild. Maybe it's the city where that man found the Bibles that Mom and Dad were trying to smuggle.

Bucky's waiting for me on the landing pad – I jump out of my seat before we've landed completely, to the annoyance of my pilot. To spite me, he waits a long time before he opens the door. As soon as he does, I jump down and run to Bucky, and we do the manly half-hug we've learned from watching others. I didn't want to bring him here – I liked it better when he was safe on base with the other family members – but he's the only one who knows the city better than I do. "How was the wedding, Captain?" he asks as we walk inside to the makeshift base we've made from what used to be a warehouse, and I cringe at the address he's taken to calling me.

"Beautiful," I answer, but I'm thinking more about dancing with Prim than the wedding itself, but I don't say that. I don't share the news that Clint proposed to Katniss either – I haven't thought about it much myself. "How's it look here?"
"Same as always. No progress." That's not what I wanted to hear, but it is what it is. The Capitol is desperate to hold District 5 – they don't have the arc reactors like we do, and therefore they need my homeland's resources. The rebels don't, but if they can cut it off, the war will be over faster, hopefully with less loss of life on either side. I'm all for that.

"There's someone you should meet, Captain," Bucky says, and I cringe at the nickname again. He motions to a boy a few years older than me, whose eyes are clouded and don't quite focus on us when Bucky says, "Matt, this is Captain Rogers …" Oh for the love of God, Bucky, stop that. "Steve, this is Matt Murdoch …" And then his face clicks. He's a good six years older now, but when he was a boy, he beat a Peacekeeper senseless during a riot and slipped into the crowd. The rebel hackers have been playing the footage nonstop since they got control of the airways … reminding our leaders that a little blind boy was more courageous than them.

"Oh! We thought for sure you'd be …" As funny as it was, you couldn't laugh too hard at that footage, knowing the boy was probably hunted down and quietly disposed of.
"Not for lack of trying," he says grimly. He's got a lot of scars. He holds out his hand and I take it.

"Glad to have you with us," I say, glad that he's safe and thinking that's the end of the story.

"Matt has an idea about how to take the Amarillo refinery," Bucky says quickly. We could use ideas.

Matt leads us into the refinery in a back way no one knew about, through an old, soot-blackened chimney with a very questionable ladder inside. It's cold and cramped and I get nervous going through it and I can see just fine. Maybe that's exactly the problem – I can see exactly how far it is to the ground every time I look down. I have no idea how Matt found it in the first place, but he hurries up the chimney like he does it every day. Matt goes first, I follow second, Bucky follows me, and a bunch of disciplined District 13 soldiers follow. Bucky and I have orders to hang back once the fighting starts, but the cameras need something to capture. This is the first op that's been declared too dangerous for cameramen since I've been in District 5 – the camera balls float behind us.

I remember what Shale said about how her mother died in a refinery, racing to shut down a certain piece of equipment before it caught fire. It makes me nervous to think of fighting in such a place – but that's why we're going to try stealth. They fit me with a uniform so dark blue it's almost black instead of the bright red, white, and blue uniform I usually have, and Matt, Bucky, and the soldiers from 13 are in all black.

We emerge in an abandoned wing of the refinery – Matt explained before we left that it was shut down forever when energy production shifted more towards an algae-based biofuel which is produced in a completely different facility. It was almost reopened now, with the greater need for energy, but so much of the equipment had rotted out it wasn't practical to open it without a lot of rework, which has been called off for the night. I thought of all the times that the power went out, even here in District 5, and how Spruce says the power was almost never on except during the Games and the Victory Tour in District 7, and all the people looking to get a job who would have been happy to work the extra wing … and I think they could have used that extra wing just to help all the districts. Not that that's what the Capitol ever cared about.

We know we're probably on camera now – we're braced for attack at any moment as we make our way through the halls towards the active wings. We need to take it from the inside and make it a defensive spot – a fort for the rebellion and one less refinery to power the Capitol.

It's not long before we reach an active wing. The refinery workers put their hands up in surrender – just as we expected. Several of the District 13 men for every section of the refinery stay behind as we move on to round them up and keep them in one spot to make sure that none sound the alarm. We would take them with us, but then they'd just be shot at. One of them just asks to be allowed to shut off some equipment – we agree, and one of the District 13 soldiers follows him to make sure he doesn't sound the alarm. Even as many as we brought, I'm starting to worry there may not be enough of the guys from 13.

It's almost eerie how much of the refinery we move through before we meet Peacekeepers – they were waiting outside, guarding all the known entry points and never thinking about the abandoned wing. But we do run into them – Bucky and I duck back like we were told and the guys from 13 take them down with frightening efficiency.

I've never quite gotten used to watching the Peacekeepers crumble in a heap of white uniforms and blood – I guess it's a good thing I'm not used to it.

It's a long, hard night – the Peacekeepers can send reinforcements and the battle has gone outside as they try to force their way in. Our forces are outside too – there's fighting in the open lots between towers and outside the complex – there's blood in all the puddles from the rain earlier today and staining the mud. But the refinery is ours – we just have to hold it. Bombs drop occasionally, but they have to be careful – neither side wants to hit something important and blow the refinery. Even if we lose it eventually, every day it's shut down is a day that the Capitol is losing a good portion of their energy resources.

The battle goes on for days on end – with nothing of value for me and Bucky to do. We wait with the refinery workers. I'm almost as scared as them even though I have to be brave and try to comfort them. I lead a lot of prayers – despite the Capitol's best efforts, there are a lot of Christians in District 5. The rebels drop water, food, and medical supplies on the roof and in the lots – retrieving them is deemed too dangerous a task for me, so I have to watch other people risk their life to get it. I watch out the window as several people lose their lives doing this simple mission and I'm not allowed to anywhere near it … It's maddening. The only comfort is the rebel broadcast – we watch it constantly. I see Katniss in District 10 and 11, and Tony in District 1. In spite of everything, I worry about them (and not just for Prim and Brandy's sakes, either), but not as badly as I worry over Thresh – he's risking his life more than any of us, probably because his handlers were scared to tell him to stay behind the lines. I wish he were here … sitting in silence with Thresh was never awkward. Most of all I miss Spruce – he's with Katniss and I worry because of his … condition … but he seems to be doing okay. He gets to actually do useful stuff – the propos show him actually being a medic, cleaning and bandaging wounds and administering medicine. He probably feels almost normal. I'm glad for him.

They even send Clint to District 10 eventually. I am almost sorry I haven't talked to him – he holds burn victims and tells them he's sorry for what happens, and he sings for them. His voice is so beautiful … I look around and see other people are crying. He even walks out in mine fields to help find mines, all though that part's probably staged.

That ends up making me think about Rue. Does she know what's going on here on Earth? I kind of hope she doesn't – I'd want to just leave Earth behind and never look at it again. And anyway … she'd be sad to see what happened to Clint. And probably disappointed in me for shunning him the way I have. But every time I see him, I think about Phillip – what he must have felt in his last moments, being murdered by someone he saved …

It's best not to think about it too much. I see both of them enough in my dreams.

They show Finnick's wedding twice and Prim and I kissing as I leave three times while Bucky and I watch, so I know it's only a matter of time until Bucky asks me, "When did you start going out with Primrose Everdeen?"
"We're not going out," I say, annoyed, as I turn bright red. "She's my … friend."

"But you …"
"It's nothing official." Her sister seems to think it is though.

"Do you …" I don't like what he's about to ask, and I'm almost glad when he's interrupted.

One of the special forces District 13 soldiers … one of the few left from the start of the siege … comes and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Captain Rogers …" Has Bucky got everyone doing that? "You need to come with us immediately."
"What is it?" I ask.

"We've received word from headquarters – you're needed in District 7," he says. That doesn't sound good.

"But why? What's happened?" I ask.

"I don't know – they didn't tell us anything." Wait – aren't Katniss and Spruce supposed to be going there soon? Are they in danger, did something happen?

"But … But we can't leave – we're surrounded …" I stammer.

"We'll get you out, Rogers, don't worry," the soldier says, but those words are not at all comforting. "Come with me now."

"But what about …"
"Everyone else will be fine – you focus on getting to District 7," he says.

"Bucky …"
"I'll be fine, Steve, just go do your thing," he says, and gives me a hug – a real hug, not the stupid manly half-hug thing we've been doing.

They hurry me through the halls between towers towards one of the exits that's relatively less guarded – relatively meaning you look at it and only think "we're probably screwed" and not "we're most definitely screwed." The whole time, I am afraid but I can't show it – I try to pray but the words are jumbled, even in my mind. More than I'm afraid for myself, I'm afraid people are going to die for me – I don't think I can live with that. We're several stories up, going out what used to be a fire exit, but they're going to be on the ground with weapons to shoot up at us.

I'm surrounded by a wall of soldiers three thick and given my shield and my gun – there's no cameras here since it's too dangerous for them, and I'll hardly be doing anything impressive so surrounded. We wait for an agonizingly long time at the door while one of the men closest to me shouts into a radio about waiting for a tactical strike and for the hovercraft to be in position. Another, a woman, tells me what I'm going to need to do in this strong, reassuring voice. I know she's terrified, but she sounds totally calm, like we're in training. "The hovercraft is as low as it can get – but they're going to lift you up with a harness. You just keep as much of your body behind your shield as you can – and we'll cover you so they don't get a shot in with any luck," she says. She keeps a hand on my shoulder until the last minute, just trying to give me a little reassurance. Something huge happens that rocks the whole building, and then there is shouting to open the door. I know they just dropped a bomb on the forces at the door – I take a deep breath and try not to shake.

The door opens to Hell.

There's fire and debris blown everywhere from the most recent bombing … and body parts. Is this what the woods looked like when they bombed the refugees from District 12? Poor Katniss! Gunshots and continued bomb blasts go off all around – I have earplugs in but even with those it's deafening. The hovercraft is waiting for me – the woman who had spoken to me straps me into a harness while everyone else fires at the coming onslaught of Peacekeepers. I feel myself being jerked upwards and curl as much as I can and lift the shield to cover my face and most of my torso, and pull up my legs to be mostly behind it.

I feel a hand on my shoulder yanking me in, and then I get dropped back to the end of the rope just outside of the hovercraft while the person who had just tried to pull me in screams in pain and I feel hot, sticky blood on my face and see red splashed across my goggles. Someone else on board grabs me and pulls me on board before I can get hurt, but that's not much comfort. The woman who tried to pull me in first is bleeding profusely but it looks like she was hit in the arm – which makes sense since they were obviously aiming for me. In the chaos I look down and see, through the red, a Peacekeeper has managed to get really close to the soldiers – many of whom are fallen, confirming my worst fears, and without thinking, the training kicks in and I take aim with the gun in my hand while still covering myself with the shield as much as I can and still see, and aim for the unarmored neck on the Peacekeeper who's gotten in so close.

I hit him. Blood splashes out so I know I hit his carotid … or at least the bullet tore through it on its way out. Everything seems to go in slow motion as he crumples to the ground, dead before he hits it, with blood covering his white uniform …

"Nice shot Rogers!" someone cries as the hovercraft doors are slammed shut, but I continue staring at the closed doors, the image of him burned into my mind. Medics rush about – trying to staunch the bleeding from the soldier who tried to pull me up and checking me over. But the annoying person just keeps cheering me on. "Finally lost your battlefield virginity! Too bad there were no cameras around!" The analogy only makes it worse – that's supposed to be a beautiful thing, and this … I'm glad there were no cameras around. I don't want to see this every day …

As soon as I think that, I see it in my mind, just as vividly as the first time. Along with body parts strewn everywhere, and all those District 13 soldiers, at least seven of them, killed to protect me …

I drop my gun and my shield, fall on my knees, and sob. The accolades stop, and the medic checking me over pulls me into a big, comforting hug, and I try to pretend she's my mother or Katniss that I need to apologize to or the female soldier who gave me instructions … Was she one of the ones who died protecting me?

I'm dreading what I'll find in District 7.

Author's Note

I'm guessing District 5 is in what was once West Texas and Eastern New Mexico, since there's abundant oil and natural gas here, plus a lot of sun for solar power, wind for wind power, and lightning storms if they've found a way to harvest that (as proposed in one fanfic). I have never seen a map of Panem that satisfies me so I had to just make some things up. I probably should related this at the beginning, but I'll relate my best guesses as needed. I chose District 5 for Stephen because New York in the future is apparently uninhabited (probably underwater given the reference to rising sea levels) and since 5 is mentioned as an urban district, I relocated several of the New York characters there.

Also I may get some flak for making Stephen as afraid as he is and so easily wounded by just one death, but he's only fourteen. No matter how badass you are, young teenagers and war shouldn't go together (which you will remember was the basis of Coulson's objections). Well really war in general is viewed as a bad thing (even if it's just which is a debate for another time) and could be said not to go with human beings but … especially not people who are still figuring out this puberty thing.

Also I may have spoken too soon about finding a lab. Ugh. We'll see what happens.