The walk back to the main bar takes an age. How can I possibly tell Katniss what has happened? I still can't believe it myself. My body aches and burns, a feeling that is echoed in the shame in my heart.
I don't know what Finnick will do with that footage, but he seemed deadly serious about using it to take down Briar. I hope whoever was in the photographs is safe, and inwardly thank her for her pain; if it wasn't for her being threatened Finnick would not be now doing everything in his power to stop her.
On my way back I bump in to Haymitch, awake again at last and clearly suffering the effects of a terrible hangover.
"Who's still alive then?" he asks. I shrug in response. "You don't know?"
"They all were a couple of hours ago," I reply, my tone flat and deadened.
"What have you been doing for a couple of hours?"
I open my mouth but I feel my voice catching in my throat and I can't answer. The memories are too close; even now I keep feeling an occasional strange rushing sensation as the last of the drugs Finnick forced upon me leave my system. Haymitch sees the pain and emotion in my face and he clearly understands where I've been, even if he doesn't know the extent of what happened. He pulls me into a hug, and I don't care that I'm overcome with the stench of old alcohol on his breath, or the powerful stink of the white liquor sweating out of his pores. I begin to shake and tremble in his arms. "I want to go home," I say, my tremulous voice muffled by his shoulder.
"It won't be long," he says. "Whatever happens."
"I can't do this. I can't cope." I'm ashamed by how much I sound like a child, and wish it was dad holding and comforting me.
"You're doing good, kid. Stay strong." He knows his words are hollow and empty, but he pulls me even closer as my tears pour out from me. It feels cathartic, and now that I have started I don't think I can stop.
I don't know how long we are stood together. I can hear Capitol citizens walking past us every now and again, making comments about 'inappropriate behaviour,' or 'the end of the age of decorum,' but I don't care about them; I've needed this release for so long…
Eventually my breathing begins to regulate. I'm still shaking, but I feel drained, as if I have nothing left inside to give. I slowly pull away from Haymitch's shoulder, a little disgusted by the glistening patch of saliva I've left on his clothes. "Sorry," I mumble.
"Don't you dare ever apologise for what they've done to you," he says firmly.
"Sorry," I mumble again.
"Don't apologise to me either." He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, before slapping his hands on either side of my shoulders. "Come on, kid. Let's get you cleaned up. You don't want those bloodsuckers seeing you like this."
"You're a mess too," I point out.
"Yeah, but they expect it of me. If I didn't look like shit they'd think something was wrong."
His rooms are closest, and he walks me towards them, helping me wash my face and calm down once we are inside. Once he is satisfied with my appearance we make the walk back to the bar together. As we approach it we can hear the patrons first. The excited noise from the bar, the raised voices and cheering doesn't bode at all well. Something has caused their blood to start pumping, and I jog the remainder of the distance.
It is with relief I see the two separate fights taking place on screen. At one end of the arena some of the remaining careers, the boy and girl from One are fighting with the boy and girl from Eleven, and it is pretty clear that neither the girl or boy from District Eleven are going to come out on top. At almost the opposite end the two adults from Four are in individual battles with the men from One and Three. Dad, Yohan and Ava are still safe, oblivious to the carnage taking place around them.
The first battle is over in minutes. The cannon fires twice and District Eleven are out of the Seventy Fifth Hunger Games. But the fighting hasn't finished. No sooner has the boy from Eleven fallen than the boy from District One turns on his District Partner. She is instantly on guard, holding her knife in a defensive position against him. "What the hell are you doing?" she screams.
"This can't last forever," he replies.
I check the other fights. The woman from Four has the man from Three outclassed in every way. She's younger, stronger, faster and better armed. Her harpoon pierces the man through the neck and she turns to help her District Partner just as the man from One draws a knife across his throat. She barely has time to pick up her harpoon before the same knife lodges itself in her chest and she falls to the floor.
At the other end of the arena the girl and boy from One are still in a stand off with each other. Their eyes burn with mistrust, knowing that one false move will result in death. After what seems an age they slowly lower their weapons; their tentative and temporary alliance still holds, for now at least.
Four deaths in as many minutes. At least the blood thirsty gamemakers should hold off setting any traps for a while.
Haymitch lets out a low whistle. "The rest of District Four wiped out in minutes. Shame none of our guys were involved in that, we could have had the sponsors eating out of our hands."
His flippant remark burns me, reminding me of what I have to become in order to survive life in the Capitol and despite the comfort he has recently offered me I turn away from him. All of District Four gone… I look around the bar for any sign of Finnick and how he feels about this, but he still hasn't returned. Will he even care? I doubt it. The distress on his face at the sight of those photographs has pushed all other cares and worries from him. In fact he'll probably be grateful that he now has no other demands on his time.
Katniss is doing her best to shmooze up to some of the sponsors in the bar. I watch her from a distance for a while. She talks to a few citizens who clearly show no interest in helping her, and as they turn away from her she pulls a disgusted face at them behind their back. The sight forces a strange feeling out of me; I begin to giggle at the sight of her, at her clear disdain for everything Capitol and related to these brutal games. She catches my eye across the room, sees my amusement at her behaviour and flashes me a wink and a smile, which I can't help but return.
It is pretty apparent that she isn't doing a great job speaking to the Capitol sponsors and starts to duck and weave through the crowd back towards me. As soon as she is close enough I throw my arms out and wrap her up in them, pulling her slender frame against me. "I've been so worried," she said. "You were gone ages."
"I'm sorry," I reply gently, still apologising even though Haymitch told me not to.
She places her hands either side of my face and pulls me towards her, her soft and sweet kisses pushing everything else from my mind. "Don't be," she says. "Are you ok?"
It's too soon to relive it. I shake my head slightly, and cannot make eye contact with her. She places her palm upon my chest and rests her face next to it. "You will be," she says softly. "You will be." I rest my chin on the top of her head, enveloping her even closer, and I pray that she is right.
Two days pass by without incident, and the Capitol citizens are becoming tetchy as a result. After a completely uneventful morning and afternoon, with none of the tributes even passing close to each other, the gamemakers start setting off traps. The woman from District Two is the first unlucky one to be killed by the arena, when a swarm of mechanical beetles descends upon her. They seemed to be hiding within the trees, pouring out of knots and holes, until they were completely surrounding her. They attack her slowly but surely, tearing away strips of flesh that cause her unimaginable pain, but without causing enough injury to finish her quickly. It takes several minutes of listening to her screams as she desperately tries to push them away from her until she finally begins to quiet. Her lack of screams seems to encourage them, and they attack even more furiously. When the cannon fires the beetles vanish back in to the trees and all that is left of the woman from Two is a bloodied skeleton with a few tiny strips of flesh clinging to the bones.
Briar has returned to hanging around the bar, although as yet she has not made any kind of contact with me. I still have not seen Finnick since, and hope that whatever he is doing comes to fruition soon. Surely it won't take Briar long to notice the missing data disc, and to retaliate? Or perhaps she herself is actually concerned about its whereabouts, and doesn't want to provoke either Finnick or myself in to revealing her illegal activities?
She sees me watching her and affixes me with a hard, ice cold stare that sends shivers down my spine. I watch as she leans over to her friend, Damiana Ivory, the sister of one of the gamemakers, and she whispers something to her. Damiana shrugs and clicks her fingers, and from nowhere an Avox appears by her side. Damiana scribbles a note on a piece of paper, hands it to the Avox who vanishes as quickly as she had appeared. Briar then turns back to me and smiles, a cold smile full of cruel humour.
Nausea bubbles up inside me and I snap my head away from her. The whole exchange felt incredibly sinister and I don't want her to see the worry that must be clearly etched on my face. Katniss is currently sleeping and without her here for support I feel unbelievably exposed with Briar here.
A movement on screen catches my eye. Dad, Yohan and Ava had been sat together, splitting a meagre meal of berries, roots and leaves when suddenly something causes all three to snap their heads upwards. I move closer to the screen, and I want to reach through and pull dad to safety. Panic wells up and I turn to Briar. She raises her glass to me in a toast, smiling that cold smile once more. I return my attention to the screens, hardly daring to breathe.
A scream causes all three tributes to turn in unison. "That sounded close," dad says, "Someone must be near us. We should move."
He and Yohan quickly gather the remainder of their meal and start to move away from the sound of the scream. Ava stays rooted to the spot. "We have to go," says Yohan desperately.
But Ava is wide eyed and terrified. Whoever screamed before does so again, and Ava cries out, "Lena!" and begins to run in the direction of the screaming.
"Ava, no!" calls my dad and he begins to follow her, but stops solidly in his tracks. I see the look of fear on his face, and it must be reflected in the fear and confusion on my own, as I hear my own voice cry out, "Dad, help me!" He stumbles slightly and looks around, and as he does so my voice seems to issue from the trees again. "Peet!" cries my dad, anguish distorting his features. "Peet, where are you?"
He stumbles blindly further and further into the trees, trying to find me. "Dad, stop," I whisper, knowing full well he won't me. "Please dad, it's not real. It's not real."
The screams are getting louder and louder; they seem to be completely surrounding the tributes. Yohan has curled up on the ground and is crying for his parents, but Ava is still running with purpose, further and further into the trees, away from the shoreline, all the while calling for this 'Lena.'
On the screens it shows a close-up of what is causing the voices. A jabberjay, a Capitol mutt, physically harmless but emotionally crippling is causing the pain that the three tributes are currently suffering. There are no other tributes in their vicinity, so they aren't in danger of running in to any potential enemies, but this will leave them emotionally scarred, more likely to make mistakes when they do finally run in to other fighters.
Dad looks up as the screams become unbearable, and he sees what we have just been shown. Understanding floods over him and he runs back towards Yohan, who is curled into himself, rocking slightly and crying. "It's ok," he says, scooping the small child up into his arms and holding him there. "It's ok. Whoever you can hear, it isn't real. They're just trying to upset us. I promise. They're safe, ok? They're safe." I start to breathe again; he is safe if they can just ride this hell out.
Together dad and Yohan try to calmly walk away from the sector. Dad must think they had unwittingly stayed too long in one place, thinking the traps are still being set off like clockwork. He keeps the shoreline on his left hand side, and starts to lead the young boy away, knowing that once they escape the sector the voices will stop. It is a hugely unpleasant shock to see that they cannot escape. A forcefield of some kind prevents them from leaving. Both dad and Yohan drop to the floor, and dad encourages Yohan to block his ears, to ignore the hellish screams as best as possible.
It takes a full hour for the assault on their ears and hearts to come to a stop. Almost as soon as it started it is over. Dad crawls towards where the forcefield had previously prevented escape and reaches out. Where there was previously solid air there is now nothing. "It's over," he breathes, bending down to encourage Yohan back to his feet. "It's over." He looks around, trying to find any clue to the whereabouts of the third member of their party.
Ava has separated so far from the group, it is unlikely she will find them again. Despite the screams abruptly ending, she is still stumbling further and further away, tears streaming down her face. "Lena!" she cries. "LENA! LE-"
Her scream is cut short. A crackle of blue electricity and she is thrown ten feet backwards. A few small wisps of smoke rise up from her chest. Her eyes are still open but clearly unseeing. The cannon blast moments later confirms this. I watch her body until the hovercraft appears and takes her away, and impatiently wipe away the tears that threaten to fall. She died believing someone close to her was being tormented. The Capitol didn't just kill her. They destroyed her.
I look back at Briar, who looks slightly disappointed at the turn of events. Her eyes flick up to meet mine. They are narrowed in hate and I understand. She knows one of us has taken the data disc. She is trying to teach us a lesson, to bring us down before we can do the same to her. I have to find Finnick now. Whatever he is planning, it can no longer wait.
A/N – Thank you for your patience with waiting for this chapter, it's been really hard to write such dark themes when a) I'm still buzzing with joy from my wedding day and b) we're finally having a summer here in England after waiting for about seven years! I'm sorry it's quite short compared to the last two chapters, but it is a kind of 'interlinker' (I love making words up) to what happens next :)