Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games or any of its characters. These belong to Suzanne Collins.
"This isn't what we agreed upon," Plutarch says on the other end of the line. "Don't make this more difficult than it has to be." He makes no attempt to hide his frustration.
"I don't care what your plan was before! We aren't leaving all of these people here. If you don't get more hovercrafts to evacuate all of District 12 then we're not leaving," I tell him firmly. It only took a few minutes for me to realize what I had agreed to when I told him we'd leave. We'd be abandoning the rest of the district. They'd be left to fend for themselves. Peeta and I both decided that unless they take us all we aren't leaving. Needless to say, Plutarch is not happy.
"Katniss, be reasonable. What about Alex?" he tries. I've already thought about that. Alexander is staying with us. We considered sending him on the hovercraft and having him dropped off with my mother or Annie but quickly decided against it. He is safer here with us than he would be with strangers.
"What about the hundreds of people that will be left behind? You're just going to leave them to be taken hostage?" For some reason this doesn't surprise me. Not just Plutarch's refusal to evacuate the whole district but the fact that this is happening again. I, of course, mean little to the country at this point. Peeta and I do yearly specials as a favor to Plutarch to keep up the spirits of the citizens but other than that I'm fairly sure no one cares about me anymore.
"Katniss," Peeta calls my name urgently. It does little to deflect the string of profanities that I continue to yell into the phone. "Katniss!" he says again loudly. He's at my side now and though he waits for my attention I look right through him to Alexander who is sitting on Haymitchs lap at the dinner table covering his tiny ears with his tiny hands. Peeta doesn't have to say anything else. I take a deep breath to calm myself so I can stop scaring my child and hand the phone to my husband. Peeta takes over the negotiations.
I walk to Haymitch and reach for Alexander. He comes to me without hesitation and buries his face into me.
"What's the plan Mockingjay?" Haymitch says with a laugh and I have to roll my eyes and hold in my own amusement at the name. How preposterous to think that I would be called into action as some symbol of strength. I'm just a wife and mother living quietly in the outskirts of town.
"We can't just leave everyone," I reiterate again. Alexander is warm in my arms and the smell of his wet diaper reminds me to take a minute to be a mother. I take him to the living room and quickly change him. Haymitch follows behind me.
"I know what you are doing and I think it's very…honorable," he settles. "But this isn't five years ago. We have to think of this little guy now," he says taking Alex from my arms. "Why don't you three go? I'll stay here, hold down the fort."
"Oh, shut up, Haymitch," I tell him. Like we'd leave Alexander's precious Papa behind. He can barely go twenty minutes without demanding to know where he is. He is more a part of this family now than I ever imagined he'd be.
"You can go to hell then!" Peeta screams into the phone from the kitchen. Haymitch and I both look at each other.
"Guess we're all staying then," Haymitch says in surrender.
Peeta is sitting at the dinner table now with his face buried in his hands. I can see the frustration emanating from him. "What is it?" I ask.
He looks up at me to speak then stops when he sees Haymitch and Alex behind me.
"Can you take him upstairs?" he asks Haymitch. He complies, simply walking away needing no further instruction.
I sit next to Peeta and take his hand into mine. "What is it?" I ask again.
He lets out a deep exhale of annoyance. "They aren't going to send more hovercrafts. They only intended for the three of us to go." He looks up at me then. I mistake his pause for the expectance of a reaction when I begin to speak.
"Haymitch will be on our side whatever we deci-," he cuts me off.
"The three of us," he says again more sternly. "As in me, you, and Alex. They don't even have room for Haymitch."
It sinks in for the first time now. There is a war coming to us and our government now is inherently more disappointing than the one before. At least Snow's administration was upfront about what they were doing. You never had to guess what kind of decisions they'd make because they were beyond predictable. But this? This is deplorable. Plutarch thinks they can just pick and choose who should be saved and who should be left to defend themselves. I'm not leaving my district. Last time I did that the whole town was leveled, hundreds killed.
We don't even know how bad it is. Surely our government can't be stupid enough to put all of its military tactics in the hand of one man. They can't be that dumb, can they? A system of checks and balances must have been created. If not, then there'd be nothing to stop Atkins and Bartlett. They could go from district to district clobbering whole towns if they wanted. With no one equipped to fight back. But, of course, they don't intend to go from district to district. They only need control over one district to have control over all of Panem. District 12. My district. If they get their hands on our coal mines then they will control all of the energy.
How far are they willing to go to seize power from our government? They started a fire in a square. Who cares? One fire is not a revolution. Are they prepared to kill people? Who will they go to first? Our Mayor Faulkner? Will they come to me? Do they think that I have any power left to yield?
"What should we do?" I finally ask Peeta.
"Call Faulkner I guess. See if he's heard anything." I don't get the chance to call our Mayor because we hear the familiar sound of a stealth hovercraft parking in our back yard. Peeta and I run out of the house just in time to see the Mayor getting ready to boarding the vehicle. A man in a black combat suit approaches us.
He yells over the engine. "Are you coming or not?" I push him out of the way and run to the Mayor.
"You're leaving?" I yell to Faulkner. "How can you leave?"
I see the shame wash over him as his young daughter clings to his leg. "This is going to get ugly, Katniss. Come with us. Don't be stubborn."
"No," I say firmly. "We're not cowards. We won't run."
"You don't know what you're saying!" he spits at me. "District 12's military has already begun making threats. They're missiles have been locked and loaded, pointing to town square since this morning. There is no hope for District 12, get that through your stubborn head!"
The severity of his words cut me deeply. Our military base has already been compromised. We have no one left to defend us and our only hope is running away.
"Mayor!" The man in the black suit yells. "We have to go. Now!" he screams over the loud engine. Mayor Faulkner gives Peeta and me one last pleading look before boarding the hovercraft. When it flies away we are left standing in the heap of what was supposed to be our son's first playground. How quickly the trajectory of life can change from one moment to the next.
I feel a panic rising in my chest. Am I crazy? I had the chance to get my husband and my son to safety but instead I've chosen to put them directly into harm's way. The sense of urgency for action hangs in the air but I stand crippled by my laxity. Peeta watches me, as if trying to decide how he'll talk me off of this ledge. He pulls me into his arms and speaks sternly.
"We did the right thing, Katniss. We would never forgive ourselves if we left. You know that," he says confidently. "It's going to be okay." He puts his lips to mine then and for a moment I do feel okay. Because no matter what chaos is going on around me I find solitude and safety in my husband's embrace. I find meaning and calmness in his body, pressed up against mine, his hands holding me tightly, an encasement of protection and promise of unyielding love. I kiss him back without hesitation.
Peeta pulls me back into the house where Haymitch is waiting for us. "Now what?" he asks.
"We need a plan," Peeta says. They both look at me expectantly.
"We have to figure out what Atkins and Bartlett are willing to do to gain control over this district. They have a missile pointed at the town square, but will they really use it? They can't destroy the town when they need its resources." I contemplate. It's amazing how quickly my mind goes into survival mode. It's as if the last five years never happened. It's as if I'm in a new arena of death but this time I'm ten times wiser. Ten times more prepared. But also, I have to admit, ten times more vulnerable because it's not just Peeta who I have to keep alive now. It's Alexander too. Even more…it's our whole district. "We could get the town into the victor houses. They'll be easier to defend if they're condensed into one area," I tell them. "We could call Thom," I tell Peeta, "tell him to get the miners together and gather everyone up. We should be able to fit everyone in our three houses combined. It'll be crowded but we could do it. Then we can split up, Peeta, you can man your house, I'll stay here and Haymitch, you can defend your property."
"Katniss, you're forgetting one very important detail," Peeta says. "Besides your bows, we don't have any weapons to defend all of these people."
Haymitch steps forward then. "I think I can help with that."
"What do you mean?" I ask him.
"Follow me," he says as he leaves our house. We walk into his home which is much more pleasant now than it used to be. Besides that fact that he's baby proofed it far more than necessary it's spotlessly clean. He doesn't even have a maid, he does it all himself. Sobriety, who would of thought? He explains on the walk that my plan won't work because they'll have no problem bombing the victor houses. They are nowhere near the mines. "Down here," he says. We follow him into the basement from a small door through the kitchen. There isn't anything down here since Haymitch doesn't actually have any possessions worth storing.
He lifts a panel in the floorboard which reveals a steel trap door. There is a keypad sitting on top which comes to life when he begins punching numbers into it. "43681," he tells us. "Remember that, 43681."
"43681!" Alexander yells.
"Oh, great," Haymitch says under his breath. He pulls his fingers to his lips. "Shh," he tells Alexander, "it's a secret, okay?"
"43681!" Alexander yells again. Haymitch lets it go for now.
The door opens and leads down a small metal stair case. We follow him down into it and are lead to another steel door. He covers Alexander's ears this time. "58921," he says once. He puts the combination into the keypad and what we are met with is a shock to both Peeta and I.
As the door opens the lights flick to life via censor. It has to be a full two minutes before all of the lights come to life because the room we are met with has to be 300 yards squared. There are large freezers lining each of the walls. Metal crates are stacked from floor to ceiling sitting next to shelving units that are equipped with cans and other nonperishables. In different intervals we can see other doors just like this one. It doesn't take long to realize that that they are spaced out evenly to align with the 11 other victor houses that sit atop of us. Peeta puts Alexander down and he goes running as fast as he can, waving his hands and yelling, "43681" into the open space.
"What is this place?" I finally ask.
"Is this a bomb shelter?" Peeta asks.
"Technically, yes," Haymitch says. "More specifically it's a hideout. Your boy told me about this place when we moved back here. Apparently Snow created these bomb shelters in case any uprisings were started government officials had places to stay no matter what district they got caught in."
"My boy?" I ask, caught on his first words.
"Gale," he says impatiently. "He got clearance to these blueprints once they hired him so he sent me a letter telling me about it. In case… we needed to protect ourselves."
"Gale?" I repeat again, dumbfounded. I haven't spoken or hardly even thought of Gale since I absolved myself from him at my mother's house. When Haymitch and I came back I thought that Gale completely abandoned me. I had no idea he had left instructions for Haymitch to keep me safe if it ever came down to it. I guess Gale and I will never stop being allies. Even if we do live in different worlds now.
"Weapons?" Peeta brings us back.
"Yeah, I'm getting to that," Haymitch says. He walks us over to the only door that isn't actually a door rather a vault. "This door is only meant to be opened by government officials. Ten to be exactly. Each containing a piece of the ten digit combination needed to enter it. Lucky for me, I have that combination," he says with a sly smile. He enters the combination, twists the circular knob and the door decompresses loudly before opening.
What's inside of it is a shock to all of us though it is obvious Haymitch has been in here before. The room is probably 100 square meters in total and there are cases upon cases of vintage rocket launchers, rifles, hand guns, chemical vial tubing…there's even an antique cannon in the far corner.
"This stuff is old. Really old," Peeta says, lifting a shotgun from a case.
"Yeah, well, no one thought much of old District 12 so instead of equipping this place with state of the art machinery we got stuck with 20th century bullshit," he tells us.
"It doesn't matter," I say. "If they can shoot, then they'll do." I look over to Peeta who is still examining the ancient shotgun. "Will you get Alex?" I ask him.
He gently puts the gun down and leaves the vault. I face Haymitch.
"Here we go," he says in anticipation of my conversation.
"You know how this is going to go down," I tell him, rather than ask.
"I don't know, sweetheart," he says. I cringe at the memory of his condescending pet name for me. "It's not going to be that easy to keep him out of the fight if it comes down to it. It never was, if you recall."
"You keep them alive, no matter what."
"And what about you?" he asks. "What will you be doing?"
"I'm going to do what I should have done five years ago."
"And that is?" he asks.
I find a box full of mechanical bow and arrows with more ammo than I could have ever hoped for. I take out a bow and test the release mechanisms. When it snaps into place as if it was just built yesterday I smile. "I'm going to save District 12."