The morning after the whole, uh, kissing extravaganza, Katniss stays asleep much longer than the others.
Unlike when the Quell started and even in the months preceding it, I'm able to get a full night's sleep myself most of the time. It's stupid, I know, but it almost feels like the Quell will go on infinitely. That it will never end, thereby keeping all of the tributes safe. It's been pretty laid back in between the major fights, and our alliance is clearly dominating. They outnumber every other alliance now, so the Games are being played on their terms. It's not if they'll be attacked, but when they'll hunt the others. They've switched from the prey to the predators.
"It's so different," I muse watching the others sit around on the beach. "These Games, I mean. Don't they seem more… relaxed?"
"How do you mean?" my wife asks coolly. The truth is, she was probably right about Wiress. Now that I can detach from the emotion of the event, I see the way she viewed it all along. I still don't want any of these victors to die, but our alliance is so much stronger than the others that it gives us something breathing room.
"The Careers won't attack now that they're so outnumbered," I explain. "Our alliance is the biggest and strongest in the Quell."
"Yes, but the field is down to eight." She fiddles with a strand of her hair.
Of course I know that. We were interviewed this morning. They showed up with their microphones and cameras, just like last year, but I'm pretty sure I gave them a better show. If Peeta can act for the cameras, so can I. "So?"
"Pretty soon, they'll have to… you know, turn on each other. They can't all win. The alliance is temporary."
Like the smashing of a dam, the weight of the Games bursts forth from the places where I'd managed to harness it. The alliance. Of course, it's temporary. It's only a matter of time now before someone turns.
"That's what they really want to see," my wife says quietly. "Have you noticed how quickly the field has been dropping, yet this group stays pretty much intact? They can't wait until the tension starts to turn the victors against each other. The drama, the bloody backstabbing, the unpredictability - it's what they live for."
She's talking about the Capitol, of course. Those people with their sick enjoyment of watching people kill one another.
Now that I know how close we are to the turning point, I think I see the trepidation in Katniss as she wakes and joins the others. As she sits next to Peeta, savoring her breakfast parachute rolls, I see her working it all out. To stay. To go. When to go. The announcers are right. This is the strongest alliance with the strongest victors. As soon as someone breaks it off, they'll be hunted like there's no tomorrow. And there's a good chance there won't be, at least not for them.
"Come on," Katniss says at last, taking Peeta by the hand. "I'll teach you how to swim."
Swimmings never been a necessary skill here in Twelve and I'm still mystified as to how Katniss learned it. Probably in the woods somewhere.
Peeta looks a little confused, but some all-too familiar note of underlying determination in her voice makes him follow.
"I'll show you the basic stroke and you can just copy," she says, wading into waist-high water. "We'll start you in the shallows."
She demonstrates the simple arm movements, explaining how to conserve breath and stay afloat (which is pointless because Peeta's still wearing a flotation belt). My son studies her for awhile, then tries it out himself.
"Yeah, lift your arms a little higher," she advises. "There you go." She picks at a few of the remaining fog scabs on her arm, and surprisingly, they peel off. Picking up a handful of sand and rubbing it up and down her arms, she's able to rid herself of most of the rest. "Peeta!" she taps him to get his attention. "Stop for a moment and take off the rest of your scabs."
Dripping wet and shining in the hazy sunlight, he stops his practice and lifts a handful of sand to his arm. As she pretends to show him how to peel away the rest of the scabs, we see why she's isolated them from the rest of the group.
"Look, the pool is down to eight," she says quietly. "I think it's time we took off."
I try to imagine them severing the alliance. Fleeing the other victors as well as the jungle. An image of Peeta and Katniss stuck in the cave, bleeding from their wounds - his leg and her head - forms itself in my mind.
My son nods. "Tell you what. Let's stick around until Brutus and Enobaria are dead. I think Beetee's trying to put together some kind of trap for them now. Then, I promise, we'll go."
Katniss sighs reluctantly. This idea of breaking the alliance is hard on both of them. The delusion of safety is one that's hard to willingly give up. But it's the best option they have. The longer they wait, the more likely someone else will turn first and who knows how bloodthirsty they'd be? Maybe they'd just kill everyone in their sleep without a fight. But to escape now, with the Careers still lethal and active, also might not be the smartest idea. They'll have to time it just right.
"Alright," she agrees at last. "We'll stay until the Careers are dead. But that's the end of it." Suddenly turning back to where the others are, she shouts, "Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!"
How quickly she shifted from talking about betraying Odair to teasing him. Hearing her, he'd never suspect a thing.
Peeta was right about Beetee coming up with a plan. He calls everyone over and apparently had devised a strategy of killing the Careers with lightning and the coil of wire.
They're not quite sure how much Brutus and Enobaria have figured out about the arena, but we as viewers know they're pretty well off. Enobaria figured out that the Gamemaker horrors were occurring in a circular pattern about a day ago and they've done a pretty decent job of moving from sector to sector without getting caught. They haven't used the word "clock" yet, but they might as well have.
Everyone agrees, however, that the Careers understand that the beach is the safest place, and the only reason they're not here is because of their camp. Beetee wants to use his wire to electrify the saltwater and the damp sand. I remember Beetee's Games. How he electrocuted six tributes at a time. This electricity stuff seems to be his trademark or something. That's right, didn't they call him Volts or something?
In truth, I don't really understand the complicated inner-workings of his plan. And announcers surely don't.
"Well, he isn't the Capitol's brain for nothing," Claudius laughs. "Simply put of course, I think Beetee wants to use that wire to electrify the water using lightning. I don't know, Caesar, seems pretty legitimate to me. The question is, can he pull it off?"
I'm not sure even the other victors know what he's talking about other than the most basic idea. Lightning. Wire. Electricity.
"Does he even know what he's talking about?" my wife grumbles. "Sounds like a bunch of gibberish to me."
"This is District Three," I remind her. "If anyone can do it, it's him."
"But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt it is up to you four," Beetee says.
Allies. That word kills. If this works, they'll no longer be bound by it.
"Why not?" Katniss says at last. "If it fails, there's no harm done. If it works, there's a decent chance we'll them. And even if we don't and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too."
"I say we try it," Peeta says. "Katniss is right." He was waiting for her to approve.
Finnick and Johanna exchange looks. It seems this alliance will split off into three sections. Katniss and Peeta, and Johanna and Finnick. I don't know where Beetee will go, but the odds aren't in his favor.
"Alright," Johanna rolls her eyes. "It's better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they'll figure out our plan since we can barely understand it ourselves."
The plan is officially set in motion. Beetee needs to inspect the lightning tree, so Finnick and Peeta take turns carrying him while the girls take the front and the back, watching for either Gamemaker traps or tributes or stray vines.
Although the morning's still young, the victors are sweating buckets. It runs down their faces, gathers on their lips and cheeks. The humidity even fogs up Beetee's glasses.
The expansive lightning tree is hard to miss. It rises into the air, reaching for the pink sky that will unleash the bolts upon it. Katniss checks for the force field with her apparently ultra-hearing and a clump of nuts. The kinds Mags liked to eat.
"Just stay below the lightning tree," she announces.
They split off to replenish themselves. Johanna taps a tree, Peeta and Katniss head a little ways away - he gathers, she hunts - and Beetee and Finnick stay at the tree, the latter guarding the former while he diligently inspects it.
I spend some time in the bakery while they're still there. I don't think they'll be attacked by anyone and as long as they stay mindful of the time, they should be in the clear. By the time I return, they're just starting to leave. Not back to the beach, though, just to the tall tree in the blood- rain wedge.
Beetee needs the rest of the afternoon to plan out the details of his trap, so the four other victors are out of a job. By the afternoon, everyone is restless. I never thought I'd use that to describe the Games.
"Well, Beetee certainly seems very confident," Caesar says. "It's just too bad the rest of us have no idea what he's talking about!"
It's Finnick who suggest having a feast of sorts since this is probably the last night they'll be eating seafood. He instructs them on harvesting fish, shellfish, and even oysters. It's like a holiday - each victor blissfully absorbed in their task. They always keep someone on watch, but other than that, it could be a group of friends hanging out on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
"Hey," Peeta laughs as he opens up an oyster. "Look at this!" In his hand is a shiny, perfectly spherical pearl plucked from the inside of the shell. "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns into pearls," he says with a dead serious expression.
That's not true and Finnick dismisses the comment, but Katniss begins laughing, so it must mean something to her. Perhaps an inside joke or something.
Gently, Peeta rinsed the glimmering pearl in the water before placing it in Katniss's palm. "For you."
I can hear the sighs in the Capitol.
Katniss stares, as if mesmerized by the pearl, for a long while. Then, she encloses it in her first. "Thanks."
They lock eyes and the laughter dies away. For a moment, I'm worried they'll start kissing again, but Peeta just leans closer and whispers, "the locket didn't work, did it?"
Finnick and Johanna are standing right there, so I don't know what whispering does for him. "Katniss?"
"It worked."
"But not the way I wanted it to." My son looks back down at the oysters, disappointed.
"What did he expect?" my wife says. "That she'd just agree? Okay, Peeta, you're right. You should die so I can have my family back. Haha, silly me."
I shake my head. Seriously, Peeta couldn't have actually thought she'd cave so easily. This is Katniss Everdeen we're talking about. She'll never go down without a fight.
So they dine on the oysters and shellfish. A parachute arrives bearing bread and sauce, adding to the special feel of the meal.
After they've eaten all they can hold, Peeta and Katniss go down to the edge of the water and sit side-by-side, holding hands. They don't talk, each lost in thoughts that can't be very happy.
Finnick and Johanna walk a little ways away, too.
"Are you ready?" Johanna asks cryptically.
"Yeah. It's getting close."
They don't elaborate or say anything else. What's getting closer? The time to sever the alliance? Why don't they form a more detailed plan? Why speak in almost code? Do they know each other that well that they can read minds? Interpret words that could mean just about anything? I mean, it's almost time for the sun to go down. Peeta and Katniss better get a move on.
"Are you coming?" my wife asks, coming into the room. She left a little while ago to take a shift at the counter.
"Coming? What do you mean? Where?"
"We're watching them set the trap in the square," she says. "Come on. It'll be better that way."
I'm not so convinced. Is she implying that this night may be the finale? I guess there's a good chance. Holy crap, I'm not ready for this yet. It switched so quickly, from relaxed to the end.
Are you ready?
No.