Chapter 4

When I got on board I went straight to my room and lay down on the bed, not knowing or caring how much time had passed. This Mr. Hustler I was convinced, was the mutt Peeta warned me about. He looked too much like a young President Snow, and the white rose, and his politeness… I shudder and turn over and stare at my bow and arrows. More than the mutt, I was afraid of its mission, it was obvious he was meant to kill me and Peeta, and he'd almost succeeded with Peeta.

Time continued to pass without my knowing until there was a knock on my door.

"Who is it?" I call, but I get no answer. Maybe I'd imagined it. But then a few seconds later I hear it again. "Who is it?" I yell. No answer. Frowning I get up and go open the door. "Oh!" I feel my face burning and I look away as I take a step back from the Avox boy. "Sorry," I mumble. The boy nods and holds up a tray with food on it. "Samuel right?" He nods. I wave the tray away, "No thanks." He nods and starts to leave but then I catch his shoulder, "Why are you serving, I thought you're supposed to be taking it easy." He shakes his head. I furrow my brow. "Can you write?" He nods. I take the tray from him. "Go get a pen and paper." I say. He nods and leaves and by the time I've set the tray down on the night stand and turn around he's already back. He holds out the pen and paper to me. "No, that's for you." He shakes his head and tries to hand it to me again but I push it back towards him. "Tell me why you're an Avox, what did you do?" Samuel stares at me blankly. I tap the paper. He looks down at it frowning. Then hesitantly begins to write, but it doesn't even take a minute before he's showing it to me and all it says is, I did nothing. "And the girl?" He writes, Nothing. "Then why are you one?" He starts writing and this time it takes him a little bit longer. When he finishes he hands me the paper. Mr. Hustler didn't like our families. Made us Avoxs in front of them, then killed them. We're from District 5. "And he did this only two weeks ago?" He nods. "Tell me, do you see any resemblance between this man and President Snow?" The boy nods and takes the paper from me and writes more. He keeps a garden of white roses at his mansion. I overheard him say once it was in honor of the President. Please don't let anyone know I have made known these things. Mr. Hustler will kill Avelen and me! "I won't. You can go Samuel. Take advantage of being here and rest, I'll try and get you both freed." He bows and leaves. Of course though, in order to get them freed, I'll need Haymitch's help, and I know I can trust him. I rip off the piece of paper and fold it up and slip it into my pocket then head out in search of Haymitch.

I don't get far before Plutarch finds me and is ushering me towards a last minute meeting where I am sat down in the head chair.

"Ok, so we've decided the first place you'll make your way to is the place of Rue's death." Great, plunge right in to the heavy stuff. "Then make your way to the cave where you found Peeta. It should all be a lot easier this time since this time you'll have a map, marked of course, of the arena. It was supposed to be for the tours so you'll see where other events had taken place and other places where tributes died."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically.

"You're very welcome," he says not hearing the sarcastic tone at all.

Haymitch at the other end of the table clears his throat and takes a drink, "I'll be up here monitoring sweetheart, talking to you through an earpiece. Plutarch is going to try and keep the arena under control. Ain't that right Heavensbee?"

"Yes." He says with a mixture of excitement and uneasiness.

"You just don't forget to smile sweetheart, we'll be there in five minutes." Haymitch says and tilts up the bottle finishing it off, some of it dribbling down his chin.

"I'm not entering through the catacombs am I?"

Plutarch shakily laughs, "Good heavens no! We aren't making you reenact the Game!"

"Could've fooled me." I mumble.

"Five minutes sweetheart, be ready and at the hangar. Mr. Hustler has your things, except your bow."

"Bow?" Plutarch asks. "Why on earth would she need her bow?"

"You want it to be authentic Plutarch." Haymitch says without looking away from me.

"Well yes, but-"

"And she needs something for protection." He looks at Plutarch. "You said yourself the arena still hasn't been completely disabled."

Plutarch opens his mouth to protest but becomes uneasy and shifts. "Yes, her bow is a fine addition." Haymitch studies Plutarch then sees me out of the corner of his eye just sitting there.

"No use just sitting here sweetheart, go get ready." And without any other indication, I'm dismissed.

I get up and leave and head back down the hall to my room and when I open the door I'm surprised to see both Avox children in my room.

"What are you doing in here?" Samuel runs to the bedside and grabs my bow and quiver and run them back to me, then the girl, Avelen I think was her name, hands me a piece of paper with words that freeze my blood, be careful of Mr. Hustler. I look up at them and nod, unable to speak. The fact the Avox children are warning me of him gives me even more of an incentive to stay away from him as much as possible. They would know him better than anyone. I sling the quiver over my head and grasp the bow feeling the power as it hums in my hands.

"Don't worry, Hustler won't get the chance." Whatever it is, Hustler won't get it.

I leave the Avox children with promises of their freedom when I return as I head towards the hangar, towards my own inprisonment.

Hustler is waiting for me; under his arm he holds a black metal suitcase. When he sees me he smiles. "Good, you're here," he reaches in his pocket and pulls out an earpiece and hands it to me and I put it in. "Now gather round everyone," he tells us. Gale, and the other man move to us. Hustler takes the suitcase and sets it gently on the ground and opens it, and I can't see what's inside.

"Can you hear me sweetheart?" Haymitch's voice scares me and I jump. Making everyone stare at me. I give Haymitch an irritated look though he can't see me.

"Yes Haymitch." I say rolling my eyes.

"Ok I want you to hold out your left arms please." I turn my attention back to Hustler confused. He stands up bringing out from behind the suitcase a huge injector. I back up knowing all too well what it is. My hand goes to my left arm to cover the apple sized lump scar that runs on it as Hustler approaches the man who holds his arm out and Hustler sticks him injecting it in him. A tracker. I can see the lump underneath the skin when he removes the injector.

"Haymitch?"

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"Did you know about trackers?"

Hustler is moving to Gale and is about to inject him. "Stop!" I say. Loud and unintelligible words fly over my earpiece and I know Haymitch is yelling. Hustler has stopped hovering right over his skin.

"Something wrong dear?" he asks innocently.

I feel myself wanting to make a disgusted face, or to gag, but all I can do is stare at the injector and say quietly, "Don't inject him."

"Let him inject you." Haymitch says.

"What?!" I yell back.

"Plutarch's reason for the trackers are valid, let him inject you. Sorry sweetheart." Hustler's hesitance is over and he nods then continues his injection with Gale, then he comes to me.

"You've had this before, it doesn't hurt does it?" he says sweetly. He removes my hand smiling and right where the scare is, he injects the tracker. It's cold and painful going into my arm, the lump is there immediately and I feel the need to push it down but I know that will only result in a bruise. Hustler moves away and injects himself then sets the injector back in the suitcase and closes it. When he stands up he seems somewhat confused for a moment, a look I see sometimes on Peeta's face after he's felt pain when he's in a hijacking state, but then he regains his composure and smiles. His face suddenly becomes a mask. "Ok," he looks at Gale and the man, "Get the gear, we're over the arena." They nod and grab it. The man goes to the ladder first and just barely gets hold of the ladder. He's frozen to it and lowered. When the ladder comes back up Gale follows, then Hustler until I'm alone.

I step up and wait for the ladder.

"Alright sweetheart, you've got Gale down there, and me up here, and loverboy recovering in the Capitol. You can do this." Haymitch tells me.
"You're not always good company." I tell him.
"You're not a bunch of rays of sunshine yourself," the ladder's back. "Now grab on, and be the victor you are." I sigh, take a deep breath and grab the rung with one hand while placing a foot on another, freezing myself.

As I descend into the arena, a thought flickers through my mind, stunned prey is easy kill, but then the thought of Gale down there eases it. Seeing the arena from this height I can see it all. We're over the Cornucopia, and when I look out I can see the burned forest and the stream where I took refuge after I was burned, and I wonder how I had made it that long distance and come out alive with just a few burns. I can see the lake which stretches out widely and the cliff that drops off into a valley. Then I can see the field where Thresh had taken refuge. It's a field of overgrown grains and grasses, but at the center, there is a small clearing, big enough for a small camp. Clever Thresh. I knew I would have been no match for him, bow or not.

My ladder stops and the current release me. I stumble away from the ladder and a hand gently catches me at the small of my back. I look up and see an emotionless mask.

"Thanks." Gale nods and removes his hand and goes to set up equipment. I frown slightly.

"Burr, friendship a little cold?" The voice of Mr. Hustler makes me jump and if he wouldn't have walked more into view, I would have thought it was Snow.

"Excuse my bluntness Mr. Hustler, but that's none of your business." He laughs.

"Miss Everdeen, it is every bit my business." He says stunning me to silence. What does he mean by that? He gives me the Snow-like smile and moves to the man and Gale, glancing once over his shoulder.

I soon found myself leaning against a tree hugging my knees to me waiting for them to finish setting up. When they finished, Mr. Hustler, decided that, instead of starting at Rue's death, we'd start here, and asked me to climb the Cornucopia. I didn't want to, but the stupid voice of Haymitch was nagging me to. So I did.

There were claw scrapes dug in the side as I climbed and when I reached the top my eyes darted immediately to where Peeta and I had waited out Cato's death. I hauled myself on top and stood up and walked to it, and there was the faintest stain of dried blood.

"Katniss, what do you see?" Hustler calls up.

I go back to the edge, but stay safely back and call down, "A very small bit of dried blood!"

"Who's?"

"I-I think it was Peeta's!"

"Come down now!" he calls. I don't hesitate in my descent, but I'm not happy when I get down. "Now we need you to go into the Cornucopia."

"In it?" He nods. "But, I never went in the Cornucopia in the Games." I point out.

"We know this, but this is where the 'last' tribute died." Oh. The significant death of the 74th Hunger Games, Cato's.

Haymitch's voice come's over the mini earpiece, "Do exactly what he wants sweetheart, think of him as your stylist, don't resist." To think of this Snow look alike as a representative of Cinna disgusts me. But I agree to Haymitch anyways and walk to the mouth of the Cornucopia, no objection crossing my lips.

A chill creeps up my spine as I remember the last night of the Games. I shudder as I remember Cato's moans of agony as his life was painfully dragged out for the Capitol's sick enjoyment. Mr. Hustler joins me at the mouth of the Cornucopia and prods me forward telling me I need to enter.

"This is a significant spot," he begins. "The place where the last tribute fell making you and Peeta victor. Tell us about the tribute and his death." Hustler says walking slowly beside me.

We are halfway in the Cornucopia, Gale and the man are following. I look down at the ground which I immediately regret. It's covered in dark old stains of blood, and against the wall, closer to the back, there is a large bone. Large human bone. I feel sick.

"Katniss?" Hustler asks again. "The tribute?" I have to turn my back to it, and turn to the cameras. I focus on Gale behind on who looks at me concerned. When I start speaking, I start talking, blocking everyone but Gale out. Like I'm just telling him. My friend.

"His name was Cato; he was a tribute form District Two. The mutts got him, and I killed him in the end out of mercy, to end the Games."

"When you say mutts, what do you mean exactly?" Hustler says cracking my sudden illusion.

I look at him, "I mean dog like and human like creatures created by the Capitol. They had characteristics of the fallen tributes, like their eyes." I say remembering little Rue's eyes within the face of the mutt, set with hatred and lust for my blood.

"So on this topic of mutations, let's talk about your tracker jacker experience." He pauses. "Cut." Hustler says. I see the red lights go off on the cameras and he walks out of the Cornucopia motioning for us all to follow. I follow silently behind Gale, but I can't help the feeling of hate and death that hangs in the air pressing down on me. Cato's agonizing moan's echoes through my head and I shiver and have to sprint past Gale to get out, though it didn't seem fast enough for me. The whole field surrounding the Cornucopia suddenly gives off the same feeling.

Gale puts a hand on my shoulder making me jump but then I calm down slightly. I turn to him and he has discarded his camera somewhere, his face shows concern, "Are you ok?" I could tell him yes, but Gale knows me to well, even if he hasn't seen me for a while. I shake my head. He stares at me. I expected him to ask what was wrong, but he doesn't, instead, he pulls me into a huge hug and just holds me there. And after a while, I find myself melting into his still familiar arms. And after a while he speaks. "I'm here for you Catnip, hang in there." Maybe I didn't need to explain what was wrong, because Gale still knows how to read me. But there are a few things, if I ever get ready to, that I will have to explain to him.

"Let's move onto the tracker jacker tree," Hustler's voice says. I pull away from Gale. "I would like to make it at least to the cave before night falls, then we can come back and camp in the Cornucopia." Welcome back to the arena, I think to myself, and may the odds be ever in your favor.