Back in District Four, the little kids played a game called "Shark." At least, they had when Finnick had left. He didn't know if they still played games anymore.

To play "Shark," the teacher chose one kid while everyone's eyes were closed. That child was the "shark." Then they all walked around while the "shark" would try and tag people as discreetly as possible. Whoever they tagged "died" and was out. The remaining kids were supposed to try and figure out who the "shark" was. Once they found out, then everyone could scream "SHARK!" and run around laughing their heads off as the "shark" tried to tag as many people as possible.

Finnick felt like he was playing a giant game of "Shark" now. Except this time, if you died, you died for real, and even if he yelled "SHARK!" nothing would change.

You would think Snow would be the "shark." After all, it was his rule they were fighting against, his pods and booby traps that were already beginning to pick soldiers off. He was the Bad Guy, the one public opinion was supposedly turned against. But at least he operated with a pattern. If you looked hard enough, you could see him tagging people.

Coin might be the "shark," too. But she was sneakier about it. Nastier. She did things that made Finnick seriously question whether she was a good replacement for Snow.

Things like letting Peeta join Squad 451 armed, without any guards or manacles, knowing his new goal in life was to kill Katniss.

8:00 in the rebel camp, outside the Capitol.

With dinner over, the watches set, evening roll called, the soldiers had a few hours to relax before 11:00 and curfew. Some played cards. The more hard-core did sit-ups or cleaned their already spotless weapons. Sometimes a couple managed to evade their squadron leader and slip into the shadows for their own romantic interlude.

But Finnick had the best job of all. He got to be on guard duty and watch Peeta.

Gale, his partner in the watch, was already there when Finnick walked over to the little camp heater that Peeta was crouched next to. It was clear Gale was even less happy with this new task than Finnick was. He was pacing relentlessly with a scowl on his face, close enough to Peeta so that he could still technically be guarding him but far enough away that they couldn't hold a conversation.

Finnick sat down a few feet away from Peeta. His rope – tied around his wrist – chafed his skin and Finnick rubbed it absentmindedly. He wasn't sure how he felt about having his rope with him again. True, he hadn't needed to use it yet. And he supposed it was comforting, knowing it would be there if he did. But it was also disquieting, a nagging little reminder waiting for him to slip up.

Peeta was a black silhouette against the yellow glow of the heater. He sat hunched over, with his face in his hands and his elbows propped on his crossed legs. Finnick folded his own arms on top of his drawn-up knees and let his gaze wander. It felt awkward sitting next to Peeta, and Gale was clearly in no mood for a conversation. Finnick wished one of their squad members would drop by.

A low muttering started up on his left. Finnick turned his head and saw that Peeta was murmuring things to himself. It was almost loud enough for Finnick to make out what he was saying, but not quite, and Finnick found himself automatically trying to pick out phrases, trying to make sense of the constant stream of blurred words…

After about five minutes, he couldn't stand it. "Here," he said brusquely, untying the rope from his wrist and holding it out at arm's length to Peeta. "Take it."

The muttering stopped. Slowly, Peeta raised his head. "What?" he said.

Gale, who had paused to watch them, made a sound of exasperation and resumed his pacing. Finnick controlled himself slightly better. "Just take it," he said. "Tie knots. Keep your mind off things." When Peeta still made no move to accept is offer, Finnick added, "It worked for me."

"Thanks." Peeta cautiously took the rope, though he didn't tie any knots. He just sort of wound it around his fingers.

They sat in silence for a long, long time. Finally Gale got tired and threw himself to the ground several feet away from both Peeta and Finnick. In about fifteen minutes, though, he was back on his feet.

"I'm thirsty. I'm getting water."

Finnick looked up at him. Gale's tawny District Twelve skin was a sickly yellow in the light of the heater, his eyes monochrome. "You're on guard duty. You're not supposed to leave."

"So?" Gale's tone was irritated, edgy. "It'll take about two minutes."

Finnick kept his tone mild, inoffensive. "That's not the point. It's an assignment. You're on guard duty, so you guard."

"Oh, for Chrissake – " Gale turned away, running his hands through his hair. Swinging back to face Finnick, he said, "Look, all I want is a drink of water – "

"If you're guarding something, you're not supposed to leave it – "

"That's why there's two of us, dumbass!"

Gale glared at Finnick. Finnick glared back. Peeta started talking to himself again. And Boggs strode up, in just as good a mood as Gale. "Is there a problem, soldiers?"

"No, sir," muttered Gale, ducking his head sullenly. But Finnick took it upon himself to say – as was his duty to a superior officer – "Gale wanted to leave his post, sir."

"What the hell!" snapped Gale. "Jesus, Finnick – "

"Well, you did – "

"Oh, f—k," groaned Boggs, walking past them. "Just shut up, both of you."

They did. Gale shot Finnick a venomous look. "Sir – " said Finnick.

"Look," said Boggs, turning to face them. "You're bored. You're irritated. And now we've got a brand-new problem to deal with." He glanced at Peeta, who was apparently oblivious to the whole argument. "But we can't afford to lose our tempers. Soldier Hawthorne, I appreciate your position, but this isn't a situation you can run away from. You've got to stick it out like the rest of us. And Soldier Odair, please try to be mindful of that and treat Soldier Hawthorne appropriately. And if I catch you two arguing like f—king first graders again, you've both got KP for a week. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good night, gentlemen."

"Good night, sir."

Grumbling, Gale sat down again. Finnick toyed with the idea of teasing him – asking him if he was still thirsty – but considering Boggs' admonition and the fact that he'd probably end up getting punched by Gale, it wasn't really worth it.

And after all, Gale really was in a tough position. Finnick should be trying to help him. It was the sort of thing Annie would want him to do. She was big on empathy and helping others.

Ah, Annie…

No one said anything (unless you counted Peeta's muttering) until midnight, when Katniss and Jackson came in for their watch. Finnick, who actually was thirsty now, hiked over to the cantina and filled his water bottle from the big plastic cooler. When he was done, he stepped back, letting Gale fill his own bottle.

"Sorry I called you a dumbass," said Gale.

Finnick took a swig from his bottle. The water still tasted metallic, even though they weren't in Thirteen anymore. "S'all right," he said. "I deserved it."

"Still…" Gale held his hand out. "Pax?"

Finnick frowned at him. "What?"

"It means peace. Truce. Whatever." Gale shrugged. "No more fighting."

"All right, then." Finnick shook Gale's hand. "Pax." He hesitated before saying in a lower voice, "Look, Gale, I really am sorry about…all this." He gestured vaguely to refer to the whole mess with Peeta and Katniss.

Gale shrugged. "It's all right," he said. "But thanks anyway."

Finnick really wished they'd been issued thicker sleeping bags. He swore he could feel every single bump in the ground through his. Though he'd been lying in the tent he was sharing with Homes for almost an hour, he still was wide awake. Closing his eyes, he started taking deep, rhythmic breaths, hoping it would send him off to sleep…

"These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you," said Peeta. "Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth."

Groaning, Finnick pushed himself up on one elbow. He didn't have to worry about Homes, wrapped in his own sleeping bag like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He slept like a rock.

"I never wanted to kill you," Finnick heard Katniss say. Against the thin tent fabric, Finnick could see her and Peeta's silhouettes, looking like black paper cutouts against the yellow light of the heater. "Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as … an ally."

Finnick wasn't one to wonder what other people were thinking, but he did with Katniss now. He thought she'd really been in love with Peeta. So why was she suddenly so antagonistic? If Finnick had known Annie before her Games, he still would have loved her once she was mad. Heck, he might even have loved her more.

He'd think Katniss would feel sorry for Peeta, at least. She was no stranger to nightmares and "psychological distress."

"Ally. Friend. Lover. Victor." Peeta began listing a bunch of various titles. "I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out." He paused, added, "The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore and what's made up."

Finnick caught his breath. Annie had said much the same thing to him after her Games… "Help me, Finnick," she had pleaded. "I don't know what's real and what isn't…"

"Then you should ask, Peeta," Finnick spoke up quietly. "That's what Annie does."

All it took was one step to change everything.

Boggs had been walking backwards, looking for better light to read his Holo. And then there had been the explosion that slammed Finnick into the ground, starbursts of pain shooting up his legs and down his spine. Another one overhead made him instinctively shield his head with his arms –

Someone, either Leeg 1 or Katniss, was screaming. Finnick jerked his head up, seeing nothing but colored stones darkened by soot, conscious of the hot trickle down the side of his head. And then he saw the pool of red.

Finnick scrambled to his feet, but one look at Boggs' mangled limbs and Homes' grim face told him it was too late to do anything for their commander. The others were picking themselves off the ground, running to where Katniss and Homes were bent over Boggs. Messalla lay crumpled at the foot of a wall.

The shock, the adrenaline, was beginning to kick in, making Finnick's pulse race and his breathing speed. His gun and trident swinging from their shoulder strap, he leapt over chunks of tile and rock to reach Messalla. He really, really wished he'd had more medical training, but surely the strange angle of Messalla's wrist wasn't good…

"Sh-t," breathed Finnick, slapping Messalla's face. "C'mon, man, wake up…" He glanced over his shoulder frantically. Katniss was running back to Boggs with something in her hands. Jackson was shouting into her walkie-talkie.

Messalla groaned. There was blood in his cropped blue-black hair, more blood pooling in his ear. Finnick shook his shoulders. "Wake up!" he yelled. But Messalla didn't respond, and Finnick thought, What if his spine's broken?

Desperately, he looked around again, hoping someone – maybe Homes – would know what to do. He saw Katniss crouched over Boggs again, her face glowing green with the light from the Holo, and Gale and Leeg 1 standing with their guns at the ready, and tiles bursting from the end of the street as a black fountain gushed forth –

"Prepare to retreat!" yelled Jackson.

"We can't!" shouted Finnick, pointing to the viscous spray of oil, tar, something – "Goddamit, Jackson, there's no way back!"

Gale and Leeg 1 began to fire on the tiles in front of them, trying to trigger any remaining bombs. Finnick seized Messalla under the armpits and hauled him along, the assistant director's head lolling. One of his many ear piercings had been ripped out and blood trickled down his neck. Up in front of him, Katniss and Homes were doing the same with Boggs, and the cries of his commander giving in to pain scared Finnick more than anything else, even more than the black tidal wave behind them –

Peeta lunged forward, grabbing Katniss' shoulders so hard she released Boggs and fell backwards onto the ground. Finnick, his arms burning with Messalla's dead weight, yelled an inarticulate warning as Peeta lifted his gun to smash the butt into Katniss' head –

But Katniss rolled out of the way and Finnick pulled Messalla along though his arm muscles were screaming in protest. Gritting his teeth in determination, Finnick got a firmer grip on Messalla and pulled him almost to the end of the block just as Mitchell flew backwards into the intersection –

A net of barbed wire snapped through the pastel tiles, taking Mitchell with it and enmeshing him in a bloody spider's web. Finnick choked, whether in horror or because of the noxious gases rising off the black wave behind him he didn't know. "Don't move!" screamed Katniss to Mitchell. There was the sound of more gunfire as Gale shot the lock of the door on a building, then turned his gun on the wires that held the net aloft. Boggs was being dragged by Homes and Katniss, Castor, Pollux, and Jackson were trying to restrain Peeta, and Cressida was screaming at Finnick to get inside –

Chest heaving, Finnick hauled Messalla along after those fighting with Peeta. Cressida caught up to him, tried to help him, but another wave of poisonous fumes from the tar made her gag instead and cover her mouth and nose with her hands. Gale was still desperately trying to shoot down the net –

"Leave him!" yelled Finnick, dragging Messalla through the door. "Gale, leave him!" Leeg 1 rushed up beside Cressida, gasping for breath. Gale bounded for the door, throwing himself inside, as Leeg 1 slammed the door shut with all the force in her slight body and the massive surge of the foul-smelling black liquid crashed through the street.

Windows shattered with a tinkling sound and the fumes, smelling of petrol and acid, gushed into the living room. With a final burst of energy, Finnick dragged Messalla down the hallway and into the kitchen where the others were grouped.

"Gale!" screamed Katniss.

Finnick let Messalla fall to the floor, whipping around to see Gale choke "Fumes!" and hunch over the canary-colored sink. The two twins were blocking the cracks around windows and doors with towels. Lightheaded from the poisonous gases, Finnick couldn't make sense of the rest of the scene, the too-bright kitchen and Boggs' strangely shrunken, bloody form on the floor, the muffled pounding coming from somewhere…Finnick held onto the back of a chair, leaned forward, closed his eyes as his head swam and his ears were filled with a dull roaring. Dimly, he heard Homes ask for Mitchell.

Everything was swirling…

At last his head stopped spinning. Cautiously, Finnick raised his head. The room was silent except for everyone's ragged breathing. Finnick took a couple of deep breaths – he could still taste gasoline in the air – and waited for his heart to slow its pounding. He realized his hands were shaking.

The thuds coming from a closet slowed in frequency. Finnick, his eyes flicking over the group, realized they must have shut Peeta in there. And then he saw Boggs, lying gray and red on the white marble floor…

"He's gone?" said Finnick stupidly. Of course he was gone. There was no mistaking the vacancy, the stiffness of his expression. Katniss nodded, blood and ash smeared on her face, and Finnick became aware of the liquid stickiness oozing from his own injury.

"We need to get out of here. Now," he said, swallowing. "We just set off a streetful of pods." His mind flashed back to District Four, to the imaginary camera in his bedroom. "You can bet they've got us on surveillance tapes."

"Count on it. All the streets are covered by surveillance cameras," said the non-Avox twin. "I bet they set off the black wave manually when they saw us taping the propo."

"Our radio communicators went dead almost immediately," said Jackson. Great. "Probably an electromagnetic pulse device. But I'll get us back to camp. Give me the Holo." Jackson reached for the little scuffed box, as was her right as second-in-command, but Katniss drew back, hugging it close.

"No. Boggs gave it to me."

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Jackson. Soot had settled in the creases of her heavily lined face, dusted her black buzz cut with dark gray. She was about to seize the Holo when Homes spoke up.

"It's true. He transferred the prime security clearance to her while he was dying." Homes did not look happy about that, and his voice was sullen. "I saw it."

Jackson turned and rounded on the others, looking for support. "Why would he do that?"

The only person who could possibly have an answer was Katniss, and she just looked bewildered. Finnick felt dizzy again and held on to the chair again, hunching his shoulders as he drew a deep breath, eyes closed. Someone came to stand next to him, the footsteps too light to be Gale or Homes. Finnick opened his eyes and saw Leeg 1, pale and dirty but uninjured.

"Because I'm on a special mission for President Coin," said Katniss. Finnick's head snapped up as he stared at her. "I think Boggs was the only one who knew about it."

"To do what?" said Jackson suspiciously.

"To assassinate President Snow before the loss of life from this war makes our population unsustainable."

Finnick's grip tightened on the chair as he realized what Katniss was doing: taking matters into her own hands, making sure she got the chance to kill Snow. It was risky, there were so many things that could go wrong…and yet, he approved. Because what had just happened only made him want Snow's blood more.

"I don't believe you." Jackson scowled at Katniss. "As your current commander, I order you to transfer the prime security clearance over to me."

"No." Katniss glared back, lips pressed together. "That would be in direct violation of President Coin's orders."

Tension crackled between them. Finnick saw Homes' hands move towards his gun…

In a flash, Finnick had his own gun pointed at Homes. The middle-aged soldier responded just as quickly, training his own weapon on Finnick, but he wasn't the only one. Jackson had her gun pointed at Katniss. Gale had his aimed at Jackson. Leeg 1 pointed hers at Finnick first, then switched it to Katniss.

"It's true." Cressida, the green vines tattooed on her head smudged with soot, stepped to stand next to Katniss. "That's why we're here. Plutarch wants it televised. He thinks if we can film the Mockingjay assassinating Snow, it will end the war."

The guns were slowly being lowered, though Finnick's pulse was racing again. Jackson pointed to the closet with her gun. "And why is he here?"

Katniss looked blank and Cressida jumped in again. "Because the two post-Games interviews with Caesar Flickerman were shot in President Snow's personal quarters. Plutarch thinks Peeta may be of some use as a guide in a location we have little knowledge of."

Finnick wondered what Snow had done to Cressida. And how many other people here might have hidden vendettas of their own –

"We have to go!" snapped Gale. "I'm following Katniss. If you don't want to, head back to camp. But let's move!"

As if anyone could go back. As Homes went to release Peeta, Finnick bent and checked Messalla's pulse. It was regular, as far as he could tell, but other than that he had no clue how to proceed. Cressida hurried over to kneel next to her partner and Finnick stepped away, relieved.

"Ready," said Homes. He had Peeta draped over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"Boggs?" Leeg 1's voice shook slightly.

"We can't take him," said Finnick, walking around the table to where his corpse lay. "He'd understand." Kneeling, he eased the strap of Boggs' gun over his head and shoulders. He paused for a moment to close his dead commander's eyes, wanting badly to say something, but not knowing what. With a sigh, he stood, slinging Boggs' heavy gun across his shoulders.

"Lead on, Soldier Everdeen."

The living room they entered seemed vaguely familiar to Finnick, with marine blue upholstery and mirrored walls. But at this point, he didn't really care. Unslinging his weapons from his back – his own sleek sniper's rifle, Boggs' chunkier SMG, and the glossy black trident – he propped them up on a cushioned chair and sank onto a sofa gratefully. The pack of ammo he was carrying weighed a ton, and the body armor wasn't helping either. Gale sat down beside him, but his eyes were trained on Katniss. Homes put Peeta down a sigh of relief, Peeta's shaggy blond head hanging off one end of a futon and his booted feet off the other. Everyone else was depositing weapons, collapsing into seats. Finnick closed his eyes and leaned back into the cushions, massaging his temples. Apparently one of the aftereffects of the poison fumes was a wicked headache.

Far away, explosions sounded like a drumroll, making the floor shake. Finnick jerked his eyes open, but Jackson said, "It wasn't close. A good four or five blocks away." Relaxing, Finnick sank back into the cushions.

Leeg 1, her eyes red-rimmed – whether from smoke or tears Finnick didn't know – added, "Where we left Boggs."

Right as she said his name, the wall-sized TV screen lit up with a video of the street they had just left, a high-pitched beeping issuing from it. Finnick leapt to his feet, automatically reaching for his rifle, but Cressida shouted, "It's all right! It's just an emergency broadcast. Every Capitol television is automatically activated for it."

But Finnick remained on his feet, staring at the TV. There he was, being filmed from above. Finnick saw himself rush over to Messalla, saw Katniss retrieve what he realized was the Holo and Peeta attack her and Gale try futilely to save Mitchell, saw the wave of goop rush through the street and cover the lenses of the cameras with blackness.

"The soldiers have been identified as Gale Hawthorne, Finnick Odair, Savin Boggs, Peeta Mellark, Cressida Trace, and Katniss Everdeen," said the reporter, her voice professional and unshaken. "They are rebel soldiers of District Thirteen. The public is warned that they are armed and extremely dangerous."

"There's no aerial footage. Boggs must have been right about their hovercraft capacity," said non-Avox twin. Well, it was comforting to know they weren't going to be bombed into oblivion.

There was more camera footage, and even though Finnick knew he was blocks away, he still felt his heart pound in fear when he saw the squads of black-clad Peacekeepers, the missiles being fired into the apartment building where they had shattered. With a pang, he thought of Boggs, his body being immolated without anyone knowing it was there…

"As you can see, the apartment building where the rebels took refuge has been completely destroyed," said the reporter, standing on a rooftop, accompanied by Peackeepers, her black tuxedo suit and spiked magenta hair immaculate. "We are confident that all the soldiers listed are dead."

"Finally, a bit of luck," said Homes.

Strategically, yes, but…

"My father. He just lost my sister and now…" Leeg 1's voice trailed off.

Oh no.

Annie.

Finnick felt himself grow pale as he realized that it wasn't just Capitol citizens who were seeing this, it was everyone in Thirteen, too…His knees felt weak and he sat back down, staring at the TV without really seeing it. Oh God. Annie. Oh God. This would destroy her for sure…

His hands started shaking uncontrollably and he clenched them together, propping his chin up on his fists. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Over and over the Capitol broadcast played images of their destruction, of the bomb blowing Boggs' legs out from under him, of the apartment being reduced to a pile of flaming rubble. At last Finnick couldn't take it and he lurched off his seat, twisting away to stand in a dark corner of the room with his back to the TV. Holding onto a mirrored wall, his hand leaving sweaty streaks on its polished surface, he tried to take deep, slow breaths to steady himself.

"Finnick?" Gale had walked up beside him.

"What will this do to her?" Finnick whispered, turning to him. He saw Leeg 1's head swivel towards them over the back of the sofa. "Gale, what will Annie do when she thinks I'm dead."

Clearly Gale hadn't thought about this aspect of their supposed defeat. "My mom," he gasped, face paling. "Rory, Vick…Posy – "

They stared at each other, each horrorstruck by the realization of the all-too acute grief their loved ones were feeling. "What do we do?" said Finnick.

"We win," said Gale grimly. "We win this war and show them that we're not dead after all."

That was all very well, thought Finnick as they returned to their seats. But what state would Annie be in even if they did win?

At last, the emergency broadcast was over. "So, now that we're dead," said Gale, not really pulling off the nonchalant attitude, "what's our next move?"

Finnick expected Katniss to answer, or maybe Jackson or Cressida, but it was Peeta who did, awkwardly pushing himself into a seated position with his cuffed hands. "Isn't it obvious?" he said. "Our next move…is to kill me."

Well, that was blunt.

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Jackson. The stress was really wearing down on her, Finnick could tell.

"I just murdered a member of our squad!" shouted Peeta. Finnick could only see the back of his head, but he could imagine his tormented expression.

"You pushed him off you," said Finnick, keeping his tone even. "You couldn't have known he would trigger the next pod at that exact spot." His sympathy for Peeta was warring with his fear – yes, he admitted it, fear – of his homicidal episodes.

"Who cares? He's dead, isn't he?" said Peeta. Finnick pressed long fingers to his temples, trying to quell his headache. "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt." He sounded like he was crying, and if Finnick hadn't been exasperated, he probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!"

Finnick pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not your fault, Peeta," he said with forced calm.

"You can't take me with you." Peeta's tone was ragged, desperate. "It's only a matter of time before I kill someone else." He paused, added, "Maybe you think it's kinder to just dump me somewhere. Let me take my chances. But that's the same thing as handing me over to the Capitol. Do you think you'd be doing me a favor by sending me back to Snow?"

Finnick couldn't suppress his irritated grimace. No one was dumping Peeta anywhere. Katniss would carry him herself if she had to. He accepted Peeta was upset, but did he really need all the melodramatics?

You're being mean, he chided himself. Be nice to him like Annie would.

It hurt to think of Annie. Finnick rubbed at the sharp pain in his chest. Beside him, Gale rose from his seat to look down at Peeta, one hand resting on the back of the futon.

"I'll kill you before that happens," Gale said to Peeta. "I promise."

For Katniss' sake, he was trying to keep his tone neutral, but Finnick could hear the subtle layer of menace that turned it from a promised mercy kill into a threat. Finnick was suddenly very glad he didn't have Gale as his enemy.

"It's no good," said Peeta. "What if you're not there to do it?" The brief expression that Finnick caught on Gale's face made him think Gale would try very, very hard to be there. "I want one of those poison pills like the rest of you have."

Finnick had all but forgotten about the little purple pill in his breast pocket. Purposely forgotten, really. Pills were too closely related to the medical profession for him to be comfortable with them.

"It's not about you," said Katniss. Finnick agreed with her. "We're on a mission. And you're necessary to it." Well, Finnick disagreed with that, but they couldn't leave Peeta behind and however much of a liability he was, it would be wrong to kill him.

He just hoped Mitchell would be the only one to die because of Peeta.

There was an odd mixture of fear and hate running through Finnick's veins. Hate, because they'd seen Snow's special message fifteen minutes ago on the TV, and Finnick hadn't really realized how much he despised that man until he saw him gloating over their deaths, painted up like a clown. Fear, because he'd seen the Holo, and there were about a thousand pods between them and the president.

Fortunately, they had another option: underground. As they squeezed through the maintenance shaft, the cameramen clutching their handhelds to their chests (Finnick didn't understand who they were filming for, but he knew why they'd brought cameras – it was the only thing they felt they could do), he tried very hard to keep his mind on the here and now. But it was hard. He couldn't help picturing what he would do when he reached Snow, planning out how he would kill him.

At last they reached the center apartment. Finnick was sure he'd been in this one, or at least an apartment with a very similar layout. The manhole-like entrance was exactly where he'd thought it would be.

Eyebrows pulled together, Messalla tapped the metal circle of the lid with his boot heel. "It's why no one ever wants the center unit. Workmen coming and going whenever and no second bath. But the rent's considerably cheaper." Finnick smirked, remembering when he'd had to hide down one of these tubes from a jealous husband. Messalla seemed to think he was laughing at him, however, and quickly shook his head. "Never mind."

In silence, they lifted the cover, climbed down the ladder into the sewers. As Finnick's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he saw a world far more complicated than the pretty pastel one above it. Pipes and tubes ran everywhere, crossing over each other; tunnel after tunnel intersected each other or opened up into spaces so wide the other side was hidden in haze. Two stories down, streams of sewage bubbled sluggishly under their feet, and there were catwalks everywhere, either bolted to the walls or suspended from the ceiling. The dirtied fluorescent lights colored the gray metal dark olive green. Several of the pipes oozed jets of steam, and a foul smell, composed of rotten eggs, mold, and harsh chemicals wafted about them.

The Avox twin staggered, clutching his brother's wrist. His twin supported him, said, "My brother worked down here after he became an Avox. Took five years before we were able to buy his way up to ground level. Didn't see the sun once."

That was…horrible. There was no other word for it. Finnick tried to imagine having to work here for five years, with only the faintest hope of escape, and quailed at the thought. And he felt intensely for the Avox, forced to return somewhere he'd thought he'd never have to be again. No wonder he looked sick. Finnick wanted to commiserate, find some way to express his sympathy, but his tongue was stuck. He looked down at his hands instead. He heard a distant, mechanical rumble, and closer, the steady drip-drip of water.

It was Peeta, of all people, who broke the silence. "Well, then you just became our most valuable asset." That broke the tension – non-Avox twin laughed quietly, ruffling the hair on his brother's head – and they set off down the tunnel. Pollux and Katniss took the lead. Then Peeta, dragging his feet and flanked by a grim Jackson and a grimmer Gale. Non-Avox twin, Cressida, and Messalla formed a tight little pack. After them was Leeg 1, then Homes, and Finnick brought up the rear, his sniper's rifle in his hands, his ears pricked and his eyes peeled. Because just because they were underground didn't mean they were any safer.

After hours of walking, fatigue began to set in. Finnick, thinking of the Peacekeepers digging through the ruined apartments, felt like there was a clock ticking away, counting down their time until discovery. Its seconds beat away in rhythm with his pulse, his footsteps that echoed on the slimy metal. Even when they finally stopped to catch a few hours of sleep, the clock continued. Finnick thought of Nuts, back in the arena. Maybe she hadn't been so crazy after all.

Tick, tock, indeed.

Finnick felt himself being roused from an uneasy slumber. He groaned, opened his eyes, found Katniss bending over him and shaking his shoulder. "What time is it?" he mumbled.

"Almost seven," she answered, and moved to wake Homes. Finnick sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. They were sure to have found the absence of their bodies by now. The clock was ticking faster.

"Wait!" Katniss' voice echoed around the small room. "Everyone, hush!"

They all froze automatically, listening. Finnick, straining his ears, could hear a low, uneven hissing that hadn't been there when he woke up. Frowning, he listened harder…

"Katniss."

Finnick started at the low hiss. It sounded a second time, and he looked around wildly, trying to identify the sound. Leeg 1 nudged his arm, pointed. And Finnick looked down and saw a still-sleeping Peeta, his lips forming Katniss' name, Katniss standing over him with an arrow nocked and drawn, and Finnick realized, There's something coming after us…

"Katniss!" Peeta jerked awake, panicking. "Katniss! Get out of here!"

She didn't run, as was Finnick's instinct, but frowned instead. "Why? What's making that sound?"

"I don't know," gasped Peeta. "Only that it has to kill you. Run! Get out! Go!"

Yes! Let's go! Finnick wanted to scream. The hissing was growing louder, and the clock was ticking faster, and instead Katniss relaxed her grip on her bow and turned to the others with a calm expression. "Whatever it is, it's after me. It might be a good time to split up," she said.

"But we're your guard," said Jackson, frowning.

"And your crew." The low light shone on Cressida's shaved scalp.

"I'm not leaving you," said Gale fiercely, eyes burning.

They should have left right then, taking off at a run down the tunnels. But they had to distribute weapons, make sure even the film crew, who didn't even know how to fire a gun, were armed. "Finnick," said Katniss. "Give one of your guns to Castor. Someone eject the blank cartridge from Peeta's, load it with a real one, and arm Pollux." She unslung her own gun and handed it to Cressida.

Finnick pulled the strap of the sniper rifle over his head, handed it to the non-Avox twin. As he loaded Peeta's rifle, he could feel his pulse pounding in his stomach, counting down time, making his fingers slip in their haste as he fumbled to load the clip. No sooner had was the gun loaded than he handed it to Pollux and sprang for the door, throat dry.

But still they couldn't leave. Katniss insisted they take everything from the room that they had brought, including empty food cans. Finnick wanted to shake her, to scream at her. Can't you see our time is running out?

They started moving, not sprinting like Finnick wanted to, but a brisk walk. He chafed at the restraint, feeling driven onward by the pulsing urgency. They weren't moving silently, so why on earth couldn't they just run –

Unearthly, horrible yells rose up behind them. Finnick halted in his tracks so suddenly Gale crashed into him, his heart clogging his throat.

"Avoxes," said Peeta at once, his pale face shining with sweat in the gloom. "That's what Darius sounded like when they tortured him."

"The mutts must have found them," whispered Cressida.

Leeg 1's eyes were wide, panicked. "So they're not just after Katniss."

"They'll probably kill anyone." Gale's voice was tight. "It's just that they won't stop until they get to her." Finnick couldn't help glancing behind him, dreading what monsters he might see bearing down on them with bloody jaws. Why, oh why couldn't they get going again…

"Let me go on alone," said Katniss. "Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission."

Jackson looked fed up with Katniss' martyr instinct. "No one's going to agree to that!" she snapped.

"We're wasting time!" said Finnick desperately. Let's go, we have to go now…

"Listen," whispered Peeta.

Louder now, the hissing whispers rose from below and behind them. Katniss, Katniss, KATNISSSS…

At last, they started running. But all too soon they stopped, at the stairs that would take them down. Finnick knew the mutts were waiting for them below, and he could see why Katniss and Pollux would want to consult the Holo, but couldn't they move at the same time?
Suddenly Katniss hunched over, gagging. Jackson snapped out a command to put their masks on, but Finnick didn't bother. Because he could smell what Katniss did – roses – and though it didn't affect him, he'd realized it was Snow's message to her a long time ago.

Stumbling, she swerved to the right. Finnick ran right alongside her and came out onto the tiled streets that mimicked those on the surface, bright, clean and unreal after the dank gloom of the sewers. Katniss shot down the first pod, creating an explosion that seared strangely-colored shapes onto Finnick's dark-adjusted eyes. Then she ran, and Finnick followed with the others, but all too soon they had to stop –

"Watch out!" shouted Katniss. "Only step where I step!" She began to move forward, hugging the wall. Finnick, right behind her, glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone was following and froze –

"Katniss!" he shouted, voice strained and cracking, his hand on her elbow. She whipped around, braid flying over one shoulder, gray eyes wide. For Messalla had taken one misstep into the street and was now frozen in a beam of golden light, stuck in misstep, screaming silently as his features blurred, liquefied, his clothes disintegrating and his flesh melting…Finnick stared in horror, heart pounding so hard and fast it might break his ribs, and though he wanted to run and the clock was ticking his feet were glued to the floor –

A rough hand shoved him off balance and Finnick automatically jerked his SMG up, ready for defense. But it was Peeta, spurring everyone into motion. "Can't help him!" he shouted, pushing Katniss forward. "Can't!"

They sprinted, ran for their lives, Finnick's breath scraping in his throat and his trident bouncing painfully against his back. Katniss skidded to a stop at the next intersection, and almost at the same time gunfire ricocheted around them. Finnick slammed into a wall to halt himself, threw himself into a crouch. Behind them, back the way they had come, was a squad of Peackeepers running towards them. Finnick brought the gun to his shoulder, fired. His heart was pounding and his throat was dry and his sweaty palms were sticking to the trigger of his gun –

With a reptilian skitter, the mutts burst out onto the street, decapitating the remaining Peackeepers with razor-blade teeth. Finnick saw white leathery skin, long bony limbs, lizardlike tails and human-shaped heads with no eyes, just flaring nostrils and snarling mouths full of teeth…

"This way!" screamed Katniss as the mutts headed for them. Their boots pounding on the tiles, the squad followed her, skirting the center of the intersection, and when all had reached the other side Katniss fired into the street, triggering flashing metallic teeth, clouds of dust, a whirring roar that almost drowned out the hissing that was closer to a screech.

"Forget the mission," shouted Katniss, seizing the Avox's arm. "What's the quickest way aboveground?"

Finnick didn't bother to think. He just followed her and Pollux, barely aware of the switch from bright white to dank gray and the smell of chemicals against the roses, the flaming, steaming, noxious sewage hissing and bubbling beneath them. Finnick swallowed hard as he tried to move his feet faster on the slimy, narrow path and across the catwalk that was a foot-wide metal grid with minimal handrails. Pollux slapped a ladder, pointed.

"Wait!" Katniss stared at their diminished group. "Where are Jackson and Leeg One?"

"They stayed at the Grinder to hold the mutts back," said Homes.

Finnick was dying to go, to leave, but Katniss leapt for the bridge, stopped only by Homes' hard hand on her arm. "Don't waste their lives, Katniss," he shouted. "It's too late for them. Look!"

Hordes upon hordes of the mutts were pouring out of the pipe they had come from. And even when Gale blew the narrow bridge up, they still came, clinging to the walls, charging through the sewage despite the acid that burned their skin, ripping and clawing at each other in their bloodlust…

Katniss was frozen, staring at them with a pale face. "Let's go!" shouted Finnick. Gale and Peeta were yelling, too. "Katniss! Move!"

Gale lunged forward, picked her up as she fired at the closest mutt, forced her to climb the ladder after Pollux. Then Peeta. Cressida. Gale jumped down beside Finnick, fired explosive arrows into the mass of mutts.

"Go!" roared Homes over the horrific noise of the mutts shrieking. "Get out of here!" Finnick leapt for the ladder, climbing frantically. He reached a platform, skidded around, gun pointing below. Gale jumped up beside him, breathing harsh. "Homes?" gasped Finnick.

Gale shook his head jerkily, blood running from the wound on his neck. Finnick realized Castor was gone, too – he hadn't even realized –

Mutts were scrambling up the ladder. Finnick aimed, fired a spray of bullets that sent a dozen tumbling to their deaths, only to be replaced by more. Gale's exploding arrow was just as effective.

"There's too many!" yelled Gale. "I can't climb and shoot – "

"I'll hold them off!" shouted Finnick. He fired again, seeing red spray from the white bodies. "Just get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving – "

"GO!"

Gale's hand was hard on his shoulder for the briefest instant, and then he was gone. Finnick sent out bullets until he was out of ammo, but the mutts still came. Heart pounding painfully, lungs gasping for air, he threw down his gun and leapt for the ladder, sweaty hands scrabbling desperately on the metal rungs. Claws raked his leg from knee to ankle and he cried out, willing himself desperately to move faster. But stench of roses was suffocating him, and sharp claws grabbed his hair, yanked his head back, and he supposed that if he were the hero of a novel, he might have died with Annie's name on his lips, but as it was his mind was blank as the razor-sharp teeth swept towards his naked throat –