"It's kind of amazing, isn't it?" the boy said, pressing his face to the window. "They really rebuilt a town in two weeks." He seemed so childish, gazing at the outdoors the way a little kid would at a cake shop window. Rose Levine had to remind herself that he was, in fact, two years her senior.
"It's not quite the world in seven days," she muttered, brushing a wisp of blonde hair behind her ear as she looked over his shoulder. The truth was that she absolutely refused be awestruck by anything the Capitol did. That's what they were aiming for. Look at our might. Look at what we can do without even trying. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of being able to think that.
That wouldn't change the fact that it was an undeniably powerful feat. What had still been a wreck of burned out buildings and razed fields two short weeks ago had now regained the shape of civilization. Unlike the scabs on her arms and legs, which healed inward from the edges, the town made its recovery from the center outward. First to spring up had been a Justice Building and a Town Hall, the latter of which became the temporary home for the most co-operative district citizens. The rest went on living in their little shacks. A massive television screen was installed beside the Justice Building, and gradually, store fronts and offices began to take shape.
What captured Rose's eye most, however, was a row of buildings just off in the distance, almost out of sight. They were houses, but nothing like the houses she had ever seen in the past. When she was arrested and imprisoned the Capitol, she had very briefly got a glimpse of the candy-colored streets with their glimmering buildings. That was the closest comparison she could make for these newly built homes in the distance. However, where the Capitol had seemed overdone and tacky, these houses seemed grandiose and proud. Were they to be Peacekeeper homes? Were they for citizens who had betrayed the Rebellion — or rather, sided with the Capitol? Rose had watched them intently since they first appeared on the horizon, but she hadn't seen a single person go in or out of them. What were they for?
Rose had no chance to wonder over them today, though, because there was a different sight that was giving her pause.
A crowd had formed outside the justice building, and on the massive TV screen, some man with garishly purple hair matched by an equally appalling pinstripe suit was speeching and gesticulating over something. It was impossible to hear at this distance.
It was a twisted sight for Rose. The massive crowd, the figure speaking out in front of them — that much felt like home. But who was this disgusting purple man? It was supposed to be her parents up their speaking, telling the old tales from centuries before. Tales of rebellion against tyrants. Tales of salvation. Even if she told herself she wouldn't see her parents speaking like that again, another part of Rose told herself that information was too much. She had to shut it down, sort it into a non-threatening corner of her mind. Yes, she had seen her parents with their hands tied behind their backs. Yes, she had seen Peacekeepers pull black bags over their heads. She had seen two people wearing black bags over their head stand against the wall as a detail of Peacekeepers took aim. She had seen two bodies crumpled on the ground and a wall splattered with an alarming shade of red.
But none of that had to mean anything if she didn't string it all together. Dead was a word someone else might use, but "somewhere else" was what she would say. Rose shut her eyes a moment, shuddering as that same lump threatened the form in her throat. She wouldn't allow that to happen anymore. She as fourteen years old; as far as she as concerned, she had outgrown tears.
"Rose… Rose, they're coming here."
The boy's voice made her start, snapping her eyes open and her chin up to attention. She saw what he meant. The same four Peacekeepers from two weeks prior were making their way towards the little shack.
As if caught in the act of some wrong, the boy scrambled from the window, and his agitated movements made Rose copy him without quite meaning too. He had no calm to him whatsoever. He kept glancing up at the door and then back at her, then towards the floor. Rose grimaced. Pull yourself together already! She would've liked to have said that, but somehow it seemed unsportsmanlike of her.
The Peacekeepers did not bother knocking. The same stocky, pony-tailed woman from before pushed the door open. This time, they were not handcuffed, but instead had one Peacekeeper on each side. Each Peacekeepers placed one hand on their shoulders, holding a gun in the other.
"Shall we?" the pony-tailed woman said, although the guns made it clear there was no question about it. Rose shut her eyes for another moment, taking a deep breath in. The District 5 girl's words were running through her mind. It will be a thousand times worse. To force that thought from her mind, she pictured her parents. She pictured them when they had their hands tied behind their backs. She remembered the calm on their faces. The dignity of their heads held high.
She opened her eyes and nodded once. "Let's go."
x/x/x/x/x/x
"Can't you at least let him hold my hand? It's obvious we're not going anywhere, sir."
The pretty girl sounded so angry when she said it. She was arguing with the men-in-white. Peacekeepers, they were called. Vega had some foggy memory of when he was very small, and white-clad people called Peacekeepers would visit the orphanage to make sure the kids were getting enough food. That was always the reason they gave for visiting, anyway. If he remembered right, he had been hungry an awful lot at that orphanage.
"Oh, buck up. He's twelve. That's well old enough to walk by himself!" The lead man-in-white was arguing back at the pretty girl. Vega had to remind himself that she had a name, too. It had been hard for him to say, though. Jee-on? Ji-yun?
"Jiyeon," she had said, laughing as she corrected him for the third time. "Just call me Genie, or Jiji. Everyone else did, too."
Vega hadn't been sure what she meant by that. Everyone else did, too. What had happened to them? He had tried asking, just once, but when he did, all the laughter had fallen from her face. He didn't want to see her looking like that. He never mentioned it again. He was never sure what was an acceptable thing to say, what would make Jiji turn away, what would put that infinite distance into her eyes; or what would make her smile at him, laugh for no reason he could understand. It had been so long, so very long since he had spoken with people.
There had been a time when he wasn't quite sure that others existed. Was there really such a thing as "other people," or was it a fantasy that he had just dreamed up so he wouldn't feel lonely? He had asked the birds, but the birds just repeated his words back at him. They were such strange creatures, the birds. He missed them, a little bit. But then, they had led him to the Peacekeepers, and the Peacekeepers had put him in prison, and he hadn't liked that at all. So why could he not stop missing the birds?
"If he's old enough to walk by himself, why are you putting a gun to his head?" Jiji was retorting, arms crossed. Vega looked up at her, not saying a word. He wondered if she realized there was a gun behind his head as well. The Peacekeeper was rolling his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lips tightly pursed.
"Look," he said. "If you think it'll make such a difference to hold the little bastard's hand, then go ahead, but believe me, it'll only hurt you later."
Jiji didn't answer him. She just put her hand in Vega's and gave it a tight squeeze. He was still looking up at her. She glanced down at him and smiled. It didn't look like the smiles she had when she laughed. It looked like she was really doing her best to keep it there.
Hand in hand, they were led to the Justice Building. Jiji ignored the Peacekeepers walking in a square surrounding them, instead swinging the arm that held Vega's hand and glancing about them.
"Look," she said, nodding to some of the buildings. "They've already got some factories back up again." Vega tried to follow her gaze, but the buildings she was looking at seemed exactly the same as all the rest to him. If he was twelve now, then it had been what, five years? Since he had last been in District 8. He felt the same now as he had back then. The place as altogether too gray.
When they reached the crowd, the Peacekeepers made them separate, sorting Jiji into a crowd of other girls, and Vega, a crowd of other boys. The pretty girl winked at him as she walked away. She stood tall among the crowd; more of a woman than a girl like the rest.
But now a woman in a rectangular purple dress was hobbling onto the platform in front of them, and beside her, a massive screen lit up with her face.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce to you," she said, and paused as a drumroll played over the speakers. After the bash of the cymbals had a moment, she again took the mic to her mouth.
"The first annual Hunger Games!"
The words of the dark-haired boy from the prison cell echoed unbidden into Vega's mind.
Maybe they'll eat us.
For whatever reason, a shudder went down his spine.
x/x/x/x/x/x
At first, Jonah had tried to count the days by scratching a little line into the cell wall every time she woke up, but she gave up after about a week. What did it matter how long she would be in that cell? It couldn't matter at this point. When the day came that two Peacekeepers did open the door to her cell, she didn't jump to her feet or even turn her head. She just narrowed her eyes in their direction.
"What now?"
"It's time to let you out." She recognized the Peacekeeper who spoke. She remembered the discolored electricity burns all down the left side of his face. It was the same man who had failed to arrest her once — and had succeeded he next time.
"You're just going to let me out?" Jonah raised an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hip. "If that was how it was going to be, why not just send me home with that other District Fiver? What's-his-name, Andy, or Ryan, or… Adrian, that was it."
The burn-scarred Peacekeeper stayed standing rigid at the door, while two others came into the cell. One handcuffed her while the other led her out at gunpoint. They made their way through a twisting passage, up a number of ladder, and finally up from underground, and out onto a train station. A train was already waiting, doors open.
"They were cleared for house arrest," the scarred one said as the others pushed Jonah onto the train. "You, on the other hand, were not. We decided the threat you posed was more serious than the need to keep up the illusion."
Jonah glared at him. Blasted Capitol, what did they think they gained in being so artfully vague? "What illusion?" She didn't expect to get a straight answer.
She got exactly what she was expecting: a thin grin dancing over the man's scarred features. "I'm sure you'll figure it out, Miss Rouen. You were always a smart one."
The train doors slid shut, and the man's face seemed to blur into his scars as the train sped away.