Thanks for your reviews to the previous chapters.
Back to Mags' point of view
The night had provided rest but not dispelled their fears. On the contrary, it had crystallized them. Mags knew that she wasn't a very imaginative person. Imagination turned shadows into monsters and blew fears out of proportion. Imagination was a curse in war time, especially for common soldiers. But even her down-to-earth mind spun grizzly scenarios as they munched with little enthusiasm through their breakfast of vitamins and nuts.
Mags found herself pacing around her companions. She couldn't afford to take the risk. Only an idiot would fail to see they had been sent there to disrupt the rebel's plans and help the Capitol identify, capture or kill them. Their very presence was a danger to everyone they encountered.
"We could be human bombs for all we know," she said, her eyes wide in horror, "what if we are engineered to murder one of the rebel leaders on sight? Teal said they'd planned something. We shouldn't interfere."
She dearly hoped the young woman hadn't encountered any trouble and felt her stomach churn with guilt. They should have followed her and protected her. What if Scavengers had caught her? They hadn't been thinking.
"So we get out and head for the Capitol?" Fife said, sounding unconvinced.
Mags shook her head. Fife's fear of death clouded her judgment. Mags' mind was set. "We find them and tell them the truth straight away. We can't afford to have them tell us their plans."
Fife exhaled, looking less that pleased. "If we could avoid sounding too expendable…."
"Teal will not have us executed. At worst we will leave," Constantine said with an unwavering confidence that awed Mags but also worried her. She needed to know that she could count on her companions, and the young man didn't sound so rational anymore.
"I wish I had your faith. She has just lost her husband. She could by some twisted reasoning decide it's our fault since we came with Will," Fife said, wringing her hands.
"She won't." Constantine's glare was so dark Mags didn't bother arguing.
Constantine's uncompromising attitude made her uncomfortable. They needed to rest in a safe place before one of them snapped. Their other options were slim. With less than three days of supplies left, they had an even chance of not reaching the Capitol and Mags doubted anything other than murder and death awaited them there. In these tunnels, maybe they could disappear. Mags wondered when her future had become such a dense fog. Esperanza, where are you now?
As they stepped down a ladder to the chilly seventh underground, they almost landed on a package.
Three gray uniforms their size and clean underwear were folded in an open box a water-less soap resting proudly in top. A note was pinned to the whole.
Mags gasped in disbelief as she picked up the note. "Humoring us, aren't they?"
So somehow the Capitol knew and somehow they could access even the most remote parts of the sewers. The Gamemakers were three steps ahead of them. Mags ground her teeth in sheer frustration. There had to be a flaw!
"Rat mutts that can climb down ladders, carry boxes and open them?" Fife guessed, evidently having the same thoughts.
Mags' lips curled at the thought of huge rodents stealthily bringing supplies to clueless tributes.
Good morning tributes.
You are too deep underground for the Capitol to monitor more than your approximate location. Last night you spoke keywords that were registered by the trigger in your tracker and alerted us that you had identified a sizable part of this year's twist. Your memories will all return within ninety hours.
Surviving tributes: 10/24
District 1: Constantine Aquila, 18
District 2: Styx Kopis, 18
District 4: Mags Abalone, 17
District 4: Delphin Vega, 18
District 5: Rapid Whelan, 15
District 7: Robin Barke, 18
District 7: Will Pulaski, 16
District 9: Fife Chican, 17
District 11: Lila Carroll, 16
District 12: Keane Embers, 18
May the odds ever be with you.
"Yep, it's the Games alright," Fife said, her voice trembling, "and the first sentences could be utter bullshit for all we know. Except for the memories," she said after a pause, her expression glum. "I should've known better..."
Mags couldn't tear her eyes away from the accursed note. Such elegant cursive, emerald ink flowing on fresh parchment. Such a dispassionate list, death lurking between each line. "Seven, Will, is still alive. What are they doing to him?"
"Maybe humans are like lobsters and are boiled alive."
The two girls turned to a deadpan Constantine in disbelief. The young man looked appalled by his own words.
Fife let loose a sharp chuckle. "No, Constantine. Just no."
"We should hurry," Constantine said, his face somber, "the Capitol has plans for us. The longer we wait, the less we are masters of our own fates."
They hurried. They didn't need to insult anyone, the masked rebels found them first. A dozen had them circled before they had even heard movement.
"Teal…" Mags began, her hands raised before her instinctively.
"Yeah, we know. Follow us," a man said, "we'll leave you with Lila until we figure out what to do with you."
Lila? District Eleven was here? Mags snapped her mouth shut. It was doubtless the best place to be.
"Did she come back unhurt?" Constantine asked, his voice thick with concern.
Mags suspected accumulated stress was making him emotive. His detached demeanor had given way to a more passionate, albeit restrained, behavior. The change made her nervous. She didn't know if it was a good thing. She hoped they could rest here.
"She's fine as can be... You should've killed Atli."
What are you lot waiting for? Mags angrily thought. Constantine was flushed with rage, his whole body shaking. Mags put a supportive hand on his arm, willing him to be reasonable. The rebels chose not to comment as they led towards their hideout. Mags repressed a weary sigh. They probably had reasons, unpleasant but justified ones.
A thick wall opened, and Mags discovered the Citadel was but a small part of the ancient city which spread under District Three. The walls were not decorated but painted in a welcoming pale blue color. They walked through a large empty room before reaching a long corridor with multiple side doors. They were lead in the second side room, an austere but functioning holding cell, with a bunk bed, a table and a few chairs.
"Hello, Lila. We'll come back soon."
The dark-skinned girl inside waved at the rebels. Her round face hardened and a small unfriendly smile flitted over her lips when the door shut behind them.
"The cocky jerk, the opportunist and the mysterious volunteer, ha. Wouldn't have pictured you three as buddies."
Mags and Constantine stiffened. Mags held back a retort. She had no reason to hate Lila and immaturity wouldn't earn them any answers. She wondered where the other's hostility stemmed from. She had few memories of the girl.
"You remember us?" Fife said curiously, the insult having gone straight over her head.
"I never forgot, Fife Chican from Nine. Eidetic memory; must have screwed with whatever they tried to do. The Capitol didn't tell me shit, but I know we're here to ruin things and that just can't happen."
"You don't have any idea as to how we're being monitored or how to escape their tracking devices?" Mags asked. She unfortunately agreed with Lila's blunt assessment of the situation.
"And them murdering our families right afterwards?" Fife muttered with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "Sorry," she added sheepishly when Mags shot her a venomous glare.
Fife was right, curse her.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Constantine accused, anger etched in his features.
"Warning the rebels actually mattered. You'd have started butchering everyone like in an arena."
Mags stiffened again. The last she didn't agree with. She unfortunately also knew that Constantine, proud as he was, would resent her defending him if she spoke up. She hoped that he would know better than to rise to the bait. After all, Lila had been right not to trust them and to seek the rebels out. Why waste time on condemned tributes? Lila hadn't said that the decision had been easy. Mags wasn't sure she wouldn't have done the same thing.
Constantine's lips twisted into a snarl as he stepped towards her. "They were warned, you fool! The whole of Panem knew, except us."
So much for hope.
Lila slapped him. "You get what you deserve for volunteering."
Fife was unable to smother a smile fast enough. Luckily Constantine couldn't see her.
"So how useful have you been feeling down there?" He said with a cruel smile, apparently intent on shattering their faith in his maturity. "I'm sure your family would be fainting with pride."
"Relax and enjoy the show…," Fife loudly interrupted. Mags felt like rolling her eyes at the three of them. She didn't intervene despite her urge to slap Constantine herself. She preferred to see them shout at each other, even violently, than bottling everything up and snapping at a crucial moment. Justified conflict was something she had learned to see as generally healthy. Besides, it would tell her how her companions reacted when confronted, which could be critical later.
"People who have a spine don't slither away from confrontations."
Constantine seemed set on disappointing her.
"You've been great to the two of us in the last six days. I'm grateful, Constantine, so I'll forget that spineless jibe," Fife said, her hands on her hips. "You're too much of a gentleman to strangle her and, selfish as I am, I'd rather know what's not a state secret about this place than see you two lock horns."
Thank you, Fife.
Lila diffidently crossed her arms. "They told me this: roughly two centuries ago, when the earth and the skies grew mad, the government of this country was afraid a world war would erupt as resources grew scarce, especially fresh water and power. They built bunkers to protect the population, storing water and food for millions, imagining a huge underground city able to outlast a nuclear war. The project wasn't finished but even today most of the bunker remains unmapped," she said, as if reciting a text, which she probably was. "The two groups of rebels live in different sections. There is even a huge train line which links this place to another half-built bunker that has mostly collapsed. Most of the food has gone bad but we could live another decade here before running out. Their technology was impressive, much better than ours is today. District Three stumbled on this place twenty years ago when expanding the sewers. They built the seventh and eighth undergrounds clandestinely to link the two."
Fife's black eyes were wide in awe. "That's so cool."
"Would be even cooler if it wasn't the Hunger Games," Lila said bitingly, "shouldn't you volunteers have killed the competition yet? Think you can outfox the Capitol?"
Mags' eyes narrowed in anger, hating Lila's every word. There had to be a way out.
Constantine slapped Lila.
Fife gasped. Mags' hand flew to her mouth to stifle guilty laughter. There were only so many insults one could take. She then sobered and pulled Constantine away from the irate girl. He should have been raised better than this. Slapping women was pathetic.
"Be civil if you expect us to return the favor," the aristocratic boy said with a sneer.
Mags realized then just how pleasant he had been with them. If Lila failed to become more than a nuisance in Constantine's eyes, the two would have to be separated quickly. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. Lila had no duty to Constantine, he had to make an effort. They both had.
"Do you really want Teal or the other rebels to walk on us punching each other?" She said.
Constantine squared his shoulders, an expression of supreme indifference on his features. "Eleven and I have nothing to say to each other."
Lila snorted. "Stop me from talking, will you?"
Constantine didn't react at all. As far as he was concerned, it was as if the younger girl had vanished from the room. Mags rubbed her eyes, feeling old all of a sudden. How could the two even take themselves seriously, behaving like that?
"Mature, Aquila. Then again, at least you just pretend I'm dead. Better treatment than we had from your sort during the war."
Constantine's eyes didn't even flicker. He was gazing at the door, ostensibly waiting for the rebels.
Mags glared at Lila, finding her patience at an end. "So which is it? We're stupid and hang out with a heartless Career, or we're also heartless Careers? Or maybe we're deluded hypocrites and he's taking advantage of us?"
Yet these were the Games, Lila was right to say all alliances were doomed. Mags had just been so sure that the train had been sabotaged that she had let herself grow too close to Fife and Constantine.
Lila crossed her arms. "Listen, Girl, one way or another, I'll be worm food in a week. If you think you had it tough after the rebellion, come to Eleven and see. These people might be the only shot we have at the Capitol before an age. You won't just wisely sit here and wait, it's plain in your pretty eyes. You're going to screw this up and I don't trust you."
"Rebel solidarity is hard earned, isn't it?" Fife huffed. "We're on the same side…."
"I don't care if you want a La La Land of freedom and happiness with all your heart," Lila snapped. "Screw this up and you're against me."
Mags' shoulders drooped. The stakes were indeed too high for her to take offense at the girl's aggressiveness. Lila looked even tenser than they were. Being alone, afraid that talking to anyone would put them in danger must have been horrible. Mags was humbled by the fact Lila was so willing to die for the rebellion. Maybe Mags was the coward, believing a better world needed her alive in it. She sat next to the girl, extending her hand in offering.
"How about we just wait to see what those rebels suggest for us? We won't dash out to save the day."
Lila's lips twitched as she shook Mags' hand, a tentative light in her eyes. "Please don't. These people did great without us."
Fife was whispering to Constantine. He smiled at her but didn't turn away from the door. Fife rolled her eyes, earning herself a friendly cuff.
Mags shook her head. "Would you apologize for accusing him of being a horrid jerk who deep down just wants us dead?" She lowered her voice. "Just so we can work together? He can be great help."
Lila gaped in disbelief. "Do you remember how he acted before the interviews, Mags?"
"No. But in a Games setting I can imagine he used his arrogance as a weapon to bring the worst in people and have them reveal their weaknesses. It doesn't change the fact that he can be decent," Mags said firmly. Constantine had saved their lives, he deserved some recognition for his qualities.
"It's the Hunger Games again, only one winner," the dark-skinned girl said, looking both bitter and utterly disinclined to apologize.
Just brilliant. Mags had two immature children to supervise. The Capitol wanted them here. If they died before they could do whatever it was the Capitol wanted, the Capitol would just send more tributes. Her thoughts must have shown on her face. Lila dropped her gaze.
"Their leader is Wickers. He's a war hero and he's got about two hundred people down here. It's not much compared to the Citadel's thousands, but they don't just sit around. We never hear about anything back home but there have been raids going on for years. They assassinated Capitolites and everything. Now they've prepared something big, something that will get people to move their asses. The don't see eye to eye with the Citadel 'cause they have this Council of Five which is big on everyone being strict equals and they don't do shit except living on. Here there's some fierce competition between people and strict laws. They're an army alright."
Mags' mind was whirring. Two thousand people in the Citadel, led by a proper council and everything, and two hundred here, all living in separate zones of a bunker that had been made centuries before and that could support, even unfinished, hundreds of thousands of people. She swallowed as she realized the cereal and honey paste she'd eaten a few hours before had been prepared before her great grandparents had even been born. Food conserved for centuries... She'd never realized how much technology had been lost before today.
A sly smile graced Lila's lips. "I can tell you more about Teal if you ask, Aquila."
Constantine muttered something to Fife. The girl chuckled before glaring at him. Locked in a stare, the brunette finally gave up. "You're unbelievable, Constantine."
Fife turned to them with an exasperated smile. "He told me to tell you that he'll ask Teal himself."
"Just apologize," Mags begged in a low voice. She feared Constantine was a lost cause. This was utterly ridiculous.
"Screw him, he can get over himself."
Why people placed their pride in such insignificant things was beyond Mags. Her eyes fell on Constantine's handsome frame, wondering what Lila had been referring to. Slowly, images resurfaced from the recesses of her mind.
Mags fingered the heavy necklace of pearls that covered her neck and chest. Her cream and blue formfitting dress trailed behind her. She was both wave and foam and undeniably stunning. Her lips formed a thin line. She looked too feminine to be taken seriously. She hoped the Games would not ruin the credibility she would later need in her District. Money would be useless if the citizens thought her a Capitol tool.
She revised her judgment as she went in the side room next to the interview stage. The girls from One and Ten were oozing sex. Maverick from Ten was a great beauty, but was well… naked. Next to her, Lila was struggling not to scratch at the thick layer of sparkles on her face and chest, but at least her nipples were covered. Mags belatedly decided her costume was very appropriate and vowed to thank her stylist.
She waited alone against the wall as the other tributes slowly arrived. She hadn't pronounced herself on alliances. Three groups had agreed to host her after the bloodbath. She wanted to see how far they would go during the interviews before making up her mind.
Rich laughter made her lift her eyes to the door. Extremely handsome in his dark and silver suit, the boy from One was looking down at his scantily clad District partner.
"I see why you were ready so early, Mirabelle. I think you forgot a part of the dress."
He was staring at her chest with a very amused expression. Mags' eyebrows shot up at his impudence.
"Eyes off, Aquila," the blonde snapped, crossing her arms over her indecent cleavage.
"There is a target on your bosom. I am but following your stylist's directives."
Indeed the colors of the dress grew deeper as they neared the neckline and matched the large earrings. While the young man could have had more class, Mags had seen Mirabelle gleefully bully the untrained tributes during training, promising them grizzly and humiliating deaths. Mags didn't intervene, wondering if Constantine had a plan beyond plain humiliation.
"Don't lower yourself to the crowd's level," Leon said. He was tall for a twelve year old and handed his district partner his velvet suit jacket.
"Keep it. You'll get in trouble," Maverick muttered, her face red, "I can't talk to crowds anyway. Let them look."
"He's already in trouble," Constantine said with a thin smile, "let him be gallant. You look like an object, not a person, Ten. It won't serve you."
"She didn't ask to be painted instead of dressed!" Lila snapped.
Mags shook her head. For once Constantine had been truthful, almost decent. The host could not force Maverick to undress if she came with a coat.
Constantine shot her a condescending glare. "Does that make her look less like an object? Or you less of an over-sized bag of confetti, Eleven? You should have been more polite to your stylist."
"And slept with him while I was at it." The dark-skinned girl's voice was dripping sarcasm.
Constantine cocked an eyebrow at his district partner. "Did you try that?"
Pure fury seemed to have stolen Mirabelle's ability to form coherent sentences.
"Shut your trap, Constantine," the young man from Eleven said, a firm hand on Lila's naked shoulder.
"With such tempers I can't fathom how you'll survive the arena."
The threat had the effect of an electroshock. Mags scowled. It seemed that this was the time for gratuitous insults.
The chubby girl from Three raised her voice over the din. "We're all stuck here, can't you be kind?"
"That's what you promised to your parents? To be kind to the other tributes?"
The boy from Nine jumped to her rescue, a scowl creasing his face. "It's called staying human beings, you gold-sucking jerk."
Constantine chuckled dryly. "I hope your allies share that opinion. You're wouldn't want to bet your life on non-existing virtue."
Despite Constantine's harsh words, Mags couldn't believe how wound up they all were getting. Faces had clouded over as people shot each other suspicious looks. Surely with so much going on, such an obvious barb would not fluster them? Were they all in denial?
Mirabelle slapped Jason from Two as he gingerly handed her his suit, aggressively refusing his help. He recoiled. His elbow collided into Lila's mouth, smudging her crimson lipstick. Imprecations filled the air.
Mags gestured to the empty spot besides her, deciding to give Constantine a chance to show some redeeming qualities. He didn't seem nice but he seemed solid enough to make a good ally, one she would not risk getting lulled into a false sense of safety by. The young man joined her, looking at the group of shouting tributes in wry amusement and scorn. She pursed her lips, irritated by his superior attitude. Only half a dozen seemed to have kept their cool, including a small shrouded figure in the corner. – Who was that?-
"I shit on your ancestors!" The boy from Nine shouted in his deep voice, pulling the taller Jason in a headlock. The same tribute who had just passionately spoken of civility.
Mags' eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Hypocrisy, hypocrisy everywhere," she said with a sigh.
Constantine arched an eyebrow. A small smile graced his lips. "Shhh. They don't know that, the fools."
Divide and conquer... Constantine was doing pretty well. Mags wondered once more what kind of personality lay hidden beneath that superior exterior. The Games were hardly bringing the best out of them.
Wry laughter escaped Mags' lips. Constantine was a jerk who unfortunately knew how to be very charming. A dangerous jerk who would do what was necessary to win. She knew that she was making allowances for him now that she actually was fond of him, but she would not condemn people who were unpleasant in order to honor promises made to their relatives. So many all but gave up and despaired about their tragic bad luck, expecting to be comforted by tributes who were equally doomed. She understood why they despaired, why they banded together, holding onto their humanity, hoping to make it without having to betray their ideals. She was just as guilty of the last but she liked to think she wasn't in denial about her survival chances.
Mags swallowed, feeling her heart reach out to those teenagers she was starting to remember. Those who had suffered from Constantine's words had not deserved it, but she would not blame him for trying to weaken them. They all played in the Capitol's hands when they tried to win, so those who claimed to truly oppose the Capitol had two options, refusing to play and dying or playing but in order to bring change as victors. The volunteers especially had no mitigating circumstances, since they played and would only consolidate the Capitol's rule if they won. She nevertheless hadn't forgotten that, while Constantine had not divulged his reasons for volunteering, it probably wasn't for the good of the Districts.
"There was a target on Mirabelle's bosom," she said in noncommittal tones, only to see Lila's reaction.
Lila's voice was rich with anger and scorn. "You'd defend that ass and speak ill of the dead?"
Mags' eyes flashed. "The dead deserve to be remembered as they were, good and bad. People's mistakes do not vanish with their death. Constantine was harsh but honest, and he didn't make it personal. Everyone else was delaying inevitable choices, even if that made them act more decent. No one who has a clue as to how murder affects a being can say 'let's become friends and then hope you die before I have to kill you' and actually believe it!"
"Our first victor did," Fife chimed in, "oh wait, he committed suicide during the victory tour. You win, Mags."
"One was vicious," Lila shouted, "the Capitol wants us to forget we all were united against them, and he added fuel to the fire."
"Que dramatica eres!" Mags said in sheer annoyance, "with everything at stake you let mere words unbalance you? If I call your mother ugly, will you lose your wits and punch me?"
Constantine pulled his blade out of its scabbard. His eyes were still on the door but the warning was very explicit. Mags had to restrain herself not to go castrate him with the hilt of that bloody sword. His top priority should be fighting a way out of this trap not playing knight-servant. This wasn't being noble, it was just childish. She forced her temper down. They had to cooperate.
"What was that?" Fife said with a frown.
Mags bit her tongue, she couldn't be caught imprecating in Spanish. It was the second time already. "Nothing, I was taught to say nonsense in case of actual curses as a kid. It stuck."
"You threw a trident at Jay because he called you a Career?" Fife then exclaimed, blinking rapidly. "No wonder you caught Constantine's eye!"
"I don't remember that," Mags muttered. Unrelated snippets were flashing before her eyes, but she couldn't make much sense of most of them. She suddenly felt ashamed. She'd thrown a trident at someone and was berating Lila for reacting to Constantine's words? When had she become that judgmental?
I shit on your ancestors. Jay, Fife's district partner. And that twelve year old from District Ten… Leon. People, with faces, names and histories, were replacing simple numbers in her mind. Her good mood vanished entirely.
Fife chuckled. "Tell me when you do so I can tease you again."
Mags lips twitched despite herself. She didn't want them to die. There had to be a way to fool the Capitol.
Please review and tell me what you think of Lila.