I woke as they were tossing me onto the floor of the Hovercraft. I felt its floor vibrating under my hands as I tried to push myself up. I opened my eyes and met Johanna's.
Our gaze held for a second, both as stunned as each other to be alive, and then we were torn roughly apart. As I was pulled away I saw another figure sitting up- Loverboy, Peeta.
I could hear Johanna shouting abuse at the Peacekeepers even when they took me by the arms and shoved me into a seat facing the grey, metal back of the craft. Peeta was silent. I snarled out at the Peacekeepers who touched me but they weren't scared of me like the other Capitolians would have been. Perhaps it was their armour and the large black weapons they sported on their belts.
I didn't bother trying to convince them to let me go. It was obvious that we were all in serious trouble and only my anger stopped the fear from bubbling up inside me.
One of them held something in front of my eyes and it took me a moment to be able to focus on it. It was a syringe filled with pale yellow liquid. "Are you going to behave, Two, or do we have to make you?" he said in my ear, making me flinch away from him.
I pressed my lips together and stared firmly ahead, but stopped wriggling. My wrists were strapped to the chair anyway. The other one gave a grunt of approval and the needle disappeared from my vision. "Good girl," the first one said again, his breath tickling my neck and making me want to lash out at him. My arms twitched against the chair but I couldn't have hit him even if I hadn't suppressed the urge. In the distance I heard Johanna still shouting and I tried to tune her out. That was the problem with the girl from Seven. She didn't know when to shut up. I heard other voices shouting over hers, male ones full of authority, and then there was silence.
No. She didn't know when to shut up.
I was alive but I didn't know how, and I wished I wasn't as the pain of cuts and burns and broken bones hit me all at once. A moan escaped me before I could stop it and a nearby guard stiffened expectantly. It hurt to breathe so I tried not to, keeping my breaths short and shallow. It was likely they were numbered anyway. Whatever had happened in the Arena, the explosion, that had been the plan. That was what Finnick and Johanna and Fire Girl had been plotting and they were going to punish all of us for it.
I closed my eyes and tried to block it all out as we went wherever they were taking us. I wasn't naive enough to believe that it could be anywhere good. They were not going to drop us back home and let us disappear into the crowds. Ramona's words from ages ago suddenly floated into my head from a conversation we'd shared about Raven's disappearance. I hope she's dead, for her sake. Where we headed for the same fate as Raven and Panem knew who else? Would we wish we too were dead? As the journey stretched on I took comfort in the thought that it wouldn't be the first time I'd wished that.
I still don't know where they took us. As soon as the engine's of the Hovercraft changed pitch there was sudden darkness. I gave a shout of surprise, my hands rebelling instinctively against the restraints before I realised that someone had pressed a cloth over my eyes. I turned my head desperately trying to shake whoever it was off. The thoughts of not fighting fled as the panic at being senseless, helpless, rose up inside of me, but all it earned me was a sharp knock to the head with something metal that left my head ringing. Before I knew what was happening there were hands under my arms and I was being dragged out of my seat and dragged between two people. It took me a few moments to get my feet working under me again but I refused to be dragged or carried like a sack of flour.
At first only the sounds of marching footsteps met me as the rough hands guided me. At one point we paused and there was a swishing noise that I couldn't identify. One of the guards muttered something under his breath but I couldn't make out the words. A while later, when the surface under my feet had changed from cold tiles to something that seemed to resemble rough stone, there was the distant sound of dripping water. The air became chilly as well and even though the darkness behind my blindfold hadn't changed I got the distinct sense that we were underground. With every new noise my head turned from left to right, instinctively searching even though I couldn't see a thing. I tried my best to keep my breathing even. Even in this situation my pride still wouldn't allow me to show fear to these guards, though fear was definitely making my heart thud in my chest. I was back in the position I hated most; at the Capitol's mercy and completely powerless to save myself. No matter what the odds though I was never going to not try so when the blindfold was ripped off my head I immediately twisted in the capturers grip's and tried to bite of them. They seemed to expect it though and their grip was firm, shoving me forwards away from them. I stumbled a few steps and, finding myself released spun, snarling at them, only to find a metal door closed in my face. My fingers scrabbled furiously at it even though I knew it was useless.
There were footsteps fading away and I heard their fading voices. "The bitch tried to bite me, can you believe it." Even though they couldn't hear me the comment made me hiss.
Only then, when my fingers had scrabbled at the door till they were bleeding, did I turn around and finally inspect where I was. Unsurprisingly I was met with four closed walls. Dark stone walls and dark stone floor and looking up I saw distant blackened beams of wood. I was in a cell, there was no doubt about it. I tried to stop the panic from bubbling up inside me, and took four quick strides to the other side of the cell. Doing the same two more times I traced all four walls of the small room and ended up back at the bolted metal door. There were a few, faint streaks of blood on it and I looked down at my hands, seeing the nails raw and red where I had tried to scratch my way out. With a sudden bout of anger I slammed my palm against the door, screaming at the top of my lungs. The movement sent pain jolting through my body and the noise echoed and rung through the space but no voices answered me. With a sudden moment of dread I wondered if there was even anyone else for miles around. What if they simply left me here, with no one to hear me scream, and waited for me to die. I spun away from the door as if I wanted to spin away from the terrifying thought as well, and paced the room again.
To begin with I counted the number of steps I made, anything to keep my mind from terrifying thoughts. The rhythmic sound of my footsteps ringing against the stone and the steady numbers in my head helped keep my heartbeat even. I lost count at 200 and by that time, exhausted, I slumped against a wall and let myself trickle to the floor. Pulling my knees up to my chest I began to count again, counting the seconds. Without the movement though the numbers slipped away from me and I'd find my thoughts wandering to dark places.
By some miracle I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew there was a loud slamming noise and I was jerking away, leaping to my feet before I'd even properly remembered where I was. The anger and panic flooded back through me almost simultaneously and I threw myself against the far wall, slamming my back against the stone as I warily watched the bolt on the door slide back.
Two Peacekeepers dressed in white stepped into the room, both brandishing their black batons. I watched the batons instead of the men, and pressed myself even closer to the wall.
"You can either come willingly, or we can make you," one of them said in a voice that I faintly recognised as a District 2 accent. It made me sick to think this could be one of my own people and now he was acting as nothing more than the Capitol's puppet.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, ignoring the options he given me, trying to buy myself some time. They both just looked at me, waiting for my response, and I knew I wasn't going to get an answer. For all I knew they were leading me to my execution. I had a feeling I would be going anyway though, and I'd be in a much better position if I went willingly. I didn't really want to think about what being 'made' involved. So I took a deep breath and I nodded, stepping hesitantly towards them. When they didn't raise their weapons against me I moved more confidently, my head up, and stalked passed them.
Whatever was going to happen I would not show any of them how scared I was. We walked down a long stone corridor and slyly I looked from side to side as we went. The walls were stone lined with metal doors just like mine, and I had a feeling that behind each one was cell after cell. I didn't know whether there were people in any of them. No noises except our own footsteps and breathing met my ears.
They led me up two flights of stairs. The lack of windows confirmed my suspicions that we were underground and the dim light came from pale blue, flickering artificial lights set in the walls. It gave everything a slightly eerie affect, as if we were underwater. Two flights up the stone disappeared and we were once again in a normal looking corridor, though still minus windows. The floors were sleek black tile and the walls were smooth white. The whole thing had a clinical sense to it and it somehow made me feel worse than the dark stone below us had. Perhaps it was because this looked more like the Capitol, and that terrified me.
I was shoved roughly into a small room, growling at the men who touched me though they didn't seem to care. They followed me into and stood firmly either side of me as I turned and surveyed the room. The small man sitting in an ornate silver chair in the centre of the plain room made my blood run cold. President Snow gave me a smile that was far from friendly.
"Ms. Reyes, Enobaria. Please, take a seat." He waved a creased hand to the less decorated chair sitting on the other side of a small table. Everything about this seemed twistedly normal and polite. He seemed intent on ignoring the fact that hours ago I'd been thrown in a cell. He seemed to want to have a tea party. Glaring at him with open hostility I walked stiffly forwards and carefully lowered myself into the chair. I had no reason to trust him, and certainly no reason to adhere to his wishes now, whatever it was he wanted. The only bargaining chip he'd had against me wasn't here anymore to be a part of his sick little game. I swallowed passed the dry lump in my throat and pushed the thought of Clove aside, focusing instead on the President's eyes and allowing myself to be filled with hatred instead of sorrow. He gave me another smile. "I'm sorry about the accommodation. We're running a little low on rooms at the moment."
I didn't answer, refusing to play his little game. From somewhere nearby there came a loud thump and my head flicked around slightly towards the noise. The President's eyes followed the noise too and he gave a small smile and glanced down at his clasped hands. "Now, Enobaria, we have some matters to discuss."
He paused and looked back at me, apparently waiting for an answer. I knew what it was he wanted to discuss. He wanted me to tell him about the plans to destroy the Arena. As I glared back at him I realised that he didn't know, not enough anyway. For once the Capitol didn't have control of everything and he didn't even know how much I knew, let alone the details of the plot. It gave me a sense of satisfaction to know this, though I didn't let it show on my face.
I gave a small shrug, my eyes not leaving him. "I can't help you, President Snow. I'm only a tribute, completely powerless, surely you know that." His eyes narrowed but he didn't rise to the bait. I felt a small surge of triumph as I watched a vein in his neck twitch. He was more annoyed than he wanted to let on. Things must really be serious. After a long pause he inhaled deeply and leant forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. I pulled back in my seat away from him.
"You see the thing is Enobaria, my dear, you're not powerless, are you? That's the problem, and that's why I can't possibly let you go." His tone was almost friendly, if it hadn't been for the coldness of his eyes I would have thought he was doing a good job of his grandfatherly persona again. "Some of your fellow tributes have proved themselves to be far from powerless. They will regret their actions. You though, you I am not sure of." He leant back in his chair and tapped a finger to his chin, studying me closely. "On one hand you have proven yourself to be very...faithful, to me. On the other, you and I both know why that was." A low hiss escaped me at his words and I felt rage boiling up in me again. My fingers where white where they clutched the arms of the chair in an attempt to stop myself wrapping them around his throat. He gave me a cool smile. "By the way, my deepest apologies on the death of your sister, Clove."
"Don't you dare say her name!" I screamed at him, losing my composure and rising to my feet. The guards stepped towards us but the President waved them back, his eyes firmly on me. He hadn't flinched at my sudden burst of anger and this only made me madder. How dare he sit there and give me his apologies. Oddly it was his steady, cool gaze on me and not the warning movements of the guards that made me reign in my anger and step backwards. Whatever the situation this man was still in control, always in control.
"I think that answers my question," he mused, almost sounding as if he were talking to himself and not to me. His eyes raked over me analytically and I clenched my teeth together trying to control the anger that was swirling inside me. "You will be glad to know that you will not be joining your fellow Quarter Quell tributes here, my dear."
As if in answer to his words there was another loud thump, this one sounded even closer. It sounded as if it was against the wall behind the President and I looked passed his shoulder to the unrevealing wall. The President didn't seem to notice the noise. The lights overhead flickered once, twice and my eyes flew from the wall to the ceiling, terrified at the thought of being plunged into darkness in a room with this man. Just as the lights went out there was a ragged scream from somewhere too close and every hair on my arms stood up straight. The darkness lasted only a second but the scream lasted longer and before I could stop myself I was flattened against the far wall, as far away from the President as possible.
Perhaps just as horrible as the scream that eventually tore itself to an end was the dead silence that followed, and the way the President rose from his chair, perfectly calm. "I have something to show you, Ms. Reyes. Perhaps it will make you more appreciative of my plans for you."
Before I could respond rough hands were grabbing me again and dragging me in the President's footsteps towards the door. Every fibre in my body was screaming at me that something was terribly wrong and I didn't care what logical thoughts I'd had before, now I was fighting. I kicked out at the guards and desperately tried to twist out of their grip, but there were two of them and they were much bigger than me. The President seemed as unphased by my shouts and the yells of the guards as he walked calmly down the corridor, as he had by the scream from before. I didn't want to see what he had to show me. I had a sick, heavy feeling in my stomach that I already knew what it was and no matter how much blood and pain I liked I didn't want to see this.
About twenty yards down the corridor he opened another door, just the same as the one we'd come from. Except the room on the other side of this door was completely different to the one we'd just left. The floor was one solid slab of grey concrete, marked with dark splotches that I did not want to look at. The lights in here were so dim it was hard to make out the figures at the far end, but as the guards dragged me closer, following the President's confidant steps they began to materialise into people. Two men and one woman stood with their backs facing us, the woman studying a clipboard. At the sound of our footsteps- or in my case, the scrabbles as I tried to find my feet- all three of them turned around, their expressions morphing simultaneously into surprise and then awe.
"President! W-what an honour. I'm afraid we haven't been able t-" President Snow held up his hand, instantly silencing the man who had hurriedly spoken.
"That is alright. I expect these things will take time." There was something light in his voice, almost as if he were amused. He turned to face me and the two guards dragged me forward another few feet. I glared furiously at the President. "I just wanted to enlighten Ms. Reyes on the alternative to the delightful path I have chosen for her so that she can truly appreciate how kind and generous the Capitol can be."
The intense fear and anger of the last few minutes of desperate struggling surged up inside me and before I could consider the consequences the words had escaped my lips. "Go to Hell!" I hissed in a low voice at the evil man standing before me. He gave an amused chuckle which sent ice slipping through my veins and stepped towards me. The two guards had my arms in a firm, painful grip, but I barely registered the tearing at my shoulders as I focused on his face.
He gave me a small, cold smile. "I am Hell, Ms. Reyes."
Although I was fixed on his soulless eyes, on the edges of my vision I saw a movement, his arm motioning towards the men and woman. Suddenly the lights began to flicker again and there was a strangled sob that sent my head flicking around. I knew the voice, even through the agony and tears.
Before I could focus on the last figure, the one passed the guards, another scream shredded the air, accompanied by the horrible, whirring noise of machinery and the high pitched squeal of electricity. I writhed in my captors grasp wishing desperately I could cover my ears against the horrible noise. I had heard screaming before, and I had heard pain, but this was beyond both of those.
"Stop! STOP!" My voice was matching the shouts of encouragement from my guards, both almost drowned out by the cacophony in the room. Suddenly everything fell silent at once and the lights ceased their flickering. I was gasping for breath as if I had been the one screaming and I could feel a cold sweat prickling at my skin. Shakily I tried to steady my feet underneath me, hating even at this moment how the guards were supporting me. After a long pause I lifted my head and made myself focus completely on the person passed the guards, despite every sense protesting the idea.
Johanna was tied into a chair identical to the one I had been sitting in next door. Her hair was soaking wet, dripping in dark tendrils down her face and into an expansive puddle of water that surrounded her on the concrete floor. Even in this dim light I could see bright ribbons of blood twisting through the water. I forced my eyes from the floor, up to the tendrils of raw wire that snaked themselves around her wrists and torso, and finally, with a riot of voices in my head screaming at me not to, I looked up and met her eyes. She looked like something possessed as she glared at me through the wet, bloody mess of hair that hung in front of her face, and I was reminded of her final moments in the Arena. Her whole body was shuddering and shivering, sending droplets of water flying around her, but her gaze on me was as steady and furious as ever. I suddenly felt overwhelmingly sick, knowing full well that she was never going to give them the information they wanted.