A/N: Sorry this is a little late, guys! Busy morning, the bane of my existence. And THANK YOU SO FREAKIN' MUCH for getting me over 800!

So, I'll just skip the usual babble and get right to the quote of the day and then on to the chapter!

Today's quote comes from none other than my favorite super hero, Tony Stark aka Iron Man.

"It's like Christmas, but with more . . . me." - The Avengers

Random Disclaimer: I do not own CF, though I do own a rather fantastic fedora; "Think you used enough dynamite there, Butch?"; "Why is the rum always gone?"; "Why so serious?"; "I'll get you my pretty! And your little dog, too!"; "I am Asneeze, father of Achoo."; "Dobby did not mean to kill . . . only to maim . . . or seriously injure."; "My precious!"; "Puny god"; "So that's what it feels like"; "Yeah, I can fly."; "There's only one God, ma'am, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that."; "Your skin is pale white, you dress fashionably, and you abstain from sex. . . I know what you are . . . Jonas brother"; "Snakes. I hate snakes."; "When you marooned me on that god forsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing, mate: I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."; "It's like Christmas, but with more . . . me."


Chapter 15

Instinct. Reflex. They are beautiful things, especially when in mortal peril. I spin around to face my attacker, drawing and loading an arrow as I do so. I aim right between my foe's eyes, absently noting the white Peacekeeper's uniform. I wonder if they think I'll 'come quietly.' Or maybe they just planned on killing me here and then leaving me.

Fat chance of that happening.

My fingers are just about to slip from the string when suddenly the Peacekeeper's eyes widen. "Stop!" she exclaims, holding something in her palm.

I don't see why she thinks this will save her life, but my eyes betray me to see what she has in her hand. It's small and round, appearing to be some sort of white, soggy cracker. But what causes my mind to draw a complete blank is my mockingjay, stamped clearly in the middle.

"What does it mean?" I ask her sharply, my arrow still aimed between her eyes.

"It means we're on your side." The voice that answers is coming from behind me. She must have been in the house. I don't hear the click of another weapon, but that doesn't mean that I'm letting my guard down.

"Come around!" I order. "Come around so I can see you!"

"She can't," the woman says. "She's—"

"I don't care," I snap. "Come around!"

I hear a shuffling behind me, the sound of something dragging through the snow, but eventually the other person appears in front of me. Well, actually she's a girl. My age. But she's dwarfed in an ill-fitting Peacekeepers uniform, complete with the fur cloak. She leans on a poorly cut crutch, looking haggard, but I see a spark of hope in her eyes.

"Who are you?" I ask, looking quickly between the two of them. I know that they can't be Peacekeepers. They don't have that look. They're too slight, and not nearly violent enough. If they were really enforcers, I would have been arrested or shot a minute ago. I examine the youngest closely. She has a slight frame, her face is red with cold, her teeth are crooked. My eyes flit to her companion, an older woman that I estimate to be around thirty-five. No, these people are not Peacekeepers.

"I'm Twill," the older woman replies. "And this is Bonnie."

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice losing some of its harshness.

"We're from District 8," Bonnie answers and my eyes widen.

District 8? The uprising in District 8? My thoughts are suddenly flying at this new development. "Where did you get the uniforms?"

"I stole them from the factory," Bonnie explains. "We make them there. Only I thought this one would be . . . for someone else. That's why it fits so poorly."

"The gun came from a dead Peacekeeper," Twill adds and I notice for the first time how awkwardly she's holding the weapon. She's clearly not very much of a threat. Neither of them are.

But that doesn't mean I'm any less wary. Two escapees from District 8? How'd did they get here, in the woods of District 12? Why are they running in the first place? What's their destination? Do they even have one? And what is with the mockingjay cracker?

"That cracker in your hand," I say. "What does it mean?"

Bonnie frowns. "Don't you know, Katniss?" she asks surprised.

"Know?" I repeat. "Know what? I know it matches the pin I wore in the arena."

It doesn't really shock me that they know who I am. I really should have thought of this before, when they told me that they were 'on my side.' Or whatever that meant. But it makes sense that they recognize me. Who else wears a braid, is good with a bow, and hunts in the woods of District 12?

"Do you not know any of it?" Bonnie asks softly, and I feel the need to prove that I'm on top of things.

"I know that you had an uprising in 8."

Twill nods. "Yes, that's why we had to get out."

"Okay, I get that," I say. "But where are you going to go?"

"District 13," Twill answers and my eyebrows rise in disbelief.

"13 was destroyed," I tell them. Everyone knows this. During the Dark Days, the Capitol blew 13 off the map, since it was thought that they were the instigators of the war in the first place. They still play the footage, showing the smoking ruins of the district, just to remind us of their power. "There's nothing left."

"Seventy-five years ago," Bonnie says, and I can't help the dubious laugh that escapes me.

"What? You think there are people there?"

Bonnie and Twill nod. "That's why we have to go there," Bonnie says. "To spread the word."

I'm positive that Bonnie and Twill aren't a threat, but I still can't trust them completely. I step forward, my bow still raised, and take the gun from Twill. She lets me take it without a fuss. "Let's get inside," I say. "And you can tell me everything."

I follow Bonnie and Twill into the little house and see the pot of steaming water and pine needles. "Making tea?" I ask as Bonnie sits down heavily near a feeble fire, warming her pale hands. Twill wraps her cloak over Bonnie's shoulders.

"I'm not sure really," Twill replies. "I remember seeing someone do this with pine needles on the Hunger Games a few years ago."

I'm reminded of my brief visit to District 8 on the Victory Tour. Factories upon factories. Everything was manmade. I don't even think I saw one blade of grass. It would make sense that Bonnie and Twill are completely out of their element. They never got the chance to learn the ways of nature. I'm impressed they've made it as far as they have.

"Out of food?" I ask.

Bonnie nods. "We took as much as we could, but it ran out a while ago."

Pity fills me at her tone, sounding so small and feeble. I slip my game bag off my shoulder. "Well, then it's your lucky day," I say as I take out two cheese buns. I toss one to Twill, but I hand the other to Bonnie.

I made a quick stop by my house before slipping under the fence, mainly so that my mom wouldn't worry about my absence. Food shortages are still apparent, and since I have more than I need, I've been trying to spread the wealth a little bit. Peeta has too. I'll take food to my friends from the Hob, especially Greasy Sae, and, of course, the Hawthornes. I made sure to take enough food this morning to give me the whole afternoon to myself without my mother worrying about me. Peeta, of course, knows me too well to be fooled by my subterfuge, but I don't think about that. I already know the disapproving frown I'll see on his face the moment I walk through the door.

Bonnie and Twill eat the cheese buns faster than they should, and I have to remind both of them to take it slower. I notice that their tea is done, and Twill hands me two tin cups from her pack. I fill each of the cups with the steaming liquid and let them eat and drink their tea while I build up their fire.

All the while I'm wondering about their story. I know that there was an uprising in District 8, but the Capitol men I'd overheard hadn't been too specific, though I did know that they were worried about it. At least, they were at the time. What's happened since?

"So," I ask. "What's your story?"

And they tell me.

District 8 had been simmering with rage just like all the other districts. Until one day, whispered words of rebellion and a new future were not enough. They wanted to take action. Since the textile factories are loud and packed with people, it's easy to drop a whispered word here and there. Twill, it turns out, was a teacher, and Bonnie was one of her students. After school, they each had a four hour shift in the factories. It took months for Bonnie to eventually get two Peacekeepers uniforms, one for Twill and one for her husband. Bonnie would take a boot here, a pair of pants there, until she had two complete uniforms. It was understood that for the uprising to continue, someone would have to escape the district and spread the word, telling the other districts of their triumph to encourage them to rebel too.

As it turns out, the day Peeta and I were in District 8 for our Victory Tour was sort of a practice run. The people positioned themselves according to their teams, each team in charge of taking over a building. The Justice Building, the Communications Center, and the Peacekeepers Headquarters were the three main targets. The armory, railroad station, and the power station were secondary. If the rebels could get control of those buildings then they would have a chance.

The night that Peeta proposed was when everything was put into motion. It was brilliant really, considering that since the interview with Caesar Flickerman was required viewing, it gave everyone a reason to be in the square, huddled around the large television screens. Everyone was in their places when the clock struck eight, and then all hell broke loose.

Masks were put on and the uprising began. Due to the initial overwhelming numbers, the rebels actually had the advantage, overpowering the Peacekeepers. Guns were taken from the fallen by the rebels and it was chaos. The rebels were able to secure the Communications Center, the granary, and the power station.

But their triumph didn't last long. Reinforcements in the form of thousands of Peacekeepers stormed the district. Buildings were bombed by hovercraft, and in less than forty-eight hours the city was subdued and the uprising quieted. The people were put on lockdown for a week. No food, no coal, no nothing for an entire week. Televisions were filled with static, unless they showed the uprising instigators being hanged. When everyone in the district was on the brink of starvation, everything started back like normal.

It is a fluke that Bonnie and Twill are still alive. The road that they usually took to get from the school to the factory was blocked, so they had to take another route. It was this that saved their lives. "We were maybe a hundred yards away when it blew," Bonnie says. "The entire factory just exploded into bits of rock and metal."

"The explosion killed everyone inside," Twill says sadly. "Including my husband and all of Bonnie's family. We ran back to my house, got the uniforms and all the supplies we could carry, including food from our neighbors that we knew were dead." Twill frowns. "I still feel guilty about it."

"We managed to get into a train car," Bonnie says. "Because of our uniforms and it took us to District 6. We left the train when it stopped for fuel and took to the woods, though we still used the railroad tracks to guide us. We just kept walking, and we would be still but we had to stop because I twisted my ankle. We've been hiding out here for two days."

It's a lot of information to take in. I'd never imagined the uprising being so violent. The Capitol men had made it sound like a skirmish, not a full scale rebellion. Even though the uprising fell, the rebels succeeded. In the way that they showed they weren't going to cower in fear any longer. I have a great respect for everyone in 8 that found the courage to fight back.

But something nags at me as I remember something that Twill said. She said that they were trying to get to District 13, a district that everyone knows to be destroyed, nothing but a blackened, smoking heap of rubble.

"Okay, I get why you're running," I say. "But what exactly do you expect to find in District 13?"

"We're not sure," Twill says as she shares an anxious glance with Bonnie.

"It's nothing but rubble," I remind them. "We've all seen the footage."

"That's just it though," Bonnie says. "It's the same footage they show each time. Everyone in District 8 can't remember seeing anything different."

I frown. "Really?"

Twill nods. "You know how they always show the Justice Building?" she asks and I nod. "If you look very carefully, you'll see it. Up in the far right-hand corner. A mockingjay wing. It's just a flash, but it's there. Every single time they play the footage. The bird is always there."

"Back home, we think they keep reusing the old footage because the Capitol can't show what's really there now," Bonnie says.

I'm still not convinced. Their evidence is too thin. They're merely desperate people clinging to one last hope. "That's all you're going on? A mockingjay wing? You think you're going to find some new city with people strolling around in it? The Capitol would never allow it."

"No," Twill agrees, but her hope hasn't been dampened by my logic. "We think the people moved underground when everything on the surface was destroyed. We think they've managed to survive. And we think the Capitol leaves them alone because before the Dark Days, District 13's principal industry was nuclear development."

I open my mouth to disagree with them. District 13 were graphite miners. But that's only what the Capitol has told me. Why should I trust their information?

"They were graphite miners," I say hesitantly, but Twill shakes her head.

"They had a few mines, yes, but that doesn't justify their population size," she says. "That, I guess, is the only thing we know for sure."

My head is spinning. Despite my earlier misgivings, I can't help the excited thrill running through me at the thought of District 13 actually existing. That there was, maybe, somewhere for me to go. Me, Peeta, our families, even Haymitch. There was a place we could go, a safe place left alone by the Capitol. Who knows? Maybe we could even help with the rebellion from there. But then I have a thought . . . if 13 supposedly had all these powerful weapons . . .

"Why haven't they helped us then?" I ask angrily. "If they have all these weapons, why have they let the rest of us suffer when they could have helped?"

Both Twill and Bonnie look to the ground. "We don't know," Bonnie admits quietly. "Right now, we're just holding out hope that they exist."

My pity for them overcomes my need to tell them that they're both delusional, chasing a dream. They have no home. They have lost everything. Of course District 13, a district that thwarted the Capitol and lived despite it all, would draw them in. A surviving hope that they're clinging to. I can't stand to take that away from them.

So I give them the rest of the food I have in my game bag. I make a new crutch for Bonnie, and I also give her an extra pair of socks, telling her to stuff them in the toes of her boots so that they will fit her better and then she can wear them at night to try and keep her toes from freezing. I teach Twill how to hunt and skin a kill. The first squirrel she manages to shoot is hardly edible because she shot it right through the body, but I tell her that she'll get better with time. At last, I teach them how to build a proper fire.

It's after I do all of this that I look up at the sky and note the time of the day. Late afternoon. By the time I get home it will almost be dark. Guilt creeps into my veins as I think of Peeta. My mother may be fooled by my trick with the food, but Peeta knows better. No doubt he's worried, thinking I would have been home by now, and he's right because on a typical day, I would have been home around lunch. At home, everyone is probably an hour shy of dinner.

"I've got to go," I say.

They thank me profusely, each of them hugging me tightly.

"I can't believe we actually got to meet you," Bonnie says, tears threatening to fall. "You're practically all anyone's talk about since—"

"Since I pulled out those berries, I know," I interrupt her with a tolerant smile. I'm seriously tempted to tell them that I never meant to start a rebellion, that I was only trying to save myself and Peeta, but I stop myself. I can't find it within me to dishearten them.

The walk back to the fence takes just as long as I thought it would, but it gives me time to think. Peeta and I were right when we said that President Snow had given us an impossible task during the Victory Tour. Yes, we may have provided the spark for the rebellion, but how could he have expected us to control the fire? I realize that he was just trying to keep us busy, keep us distracted so that we didn't do anything further to fuel the unrest.

A flash of a mockingjay wing catches my eye and I'm reminded of the cracker. The cracker with my mockingjay stamped onto it. It means we're on your side. My side? I had a side? Had I become the face of this rebellion? My mockingjay?

I reach the hollow log where I always hide my weapons, and tuck them gently inside. My feet carry me to the fence, the weak spot closest to my old house in the Seam. I'm just about to reach for the fence when my senses catch up to me. In my shock, I nearly stumble back and fall into the snow.

The fence looks exactly the same, the chain-link dull in the fading light. However, the one thing different is the distinct humming sound, telling me that the fence is electrified.

I'm trapped.


Well, nothing much original here, except me adding in a few thoughts of Peeta, but this was a crucial part of the book that I couldn't ignore. So, here it be.

Next chapter has more 'Me' so hopefully it'll be more fun! :)

Quote from the next chapter comes from . . . Peeta!

"Exactly how many of my shirts do you have?"

Lots of love,

AC