I'm still struggling to process everything that's happened tonight when Peeta breaks the silence. "That was a real stunt, talking out of turn up there."
"Yeah," I say, not really sure how to respond. "It just sort of came out."
"You scared me," Peeta says. "You didn't see the Peacekeepers gathering just off stage."
"I saw a couple of them," I say. "What are they going to do to me? They're already planning to kill me tomorrow."
After that we fall silent again. Peeta doesn't bring up my other stunt, the fire that turned our baby into a mockingjay. He must know as well as I do that it means Cinna's death sentence.
I don't know how much longer it is before Haymitch reappears. "It's madness out there. Everyone's been sent home and they've canceled the recap of the interviews on television."
Peeta and I go over to the window and try to see the commotion far below us on the streets. "What are they saying?" Peeta asks. "Are they asking the president to stop the Games?"
"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here," Haymitch says. "But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that, right?"
Of course I know that, and on some level Peeta must know it too. Ever since he announced the Quarter Quell, there was no chance of Snow backing down. And after tonight he probably wants to kill me even more than he already did before. "Where is everybody?" I ask. "It's deserted up here."
"Weren't you listening? They sent everyone home! All the attendants, all the assistants, even the district escorts. The only people in this building right now are tributes, mentors, and Peacekeepers."
I want to ask about the missing Avoxes, but I don't. I know we're not supposed to talk about them, and I don't want to cause any trouble for Darius and Lavinia. Instead we fall silent, until Haymitch speaks again. "Sweetheart I'll see tomorrow, but this is where we say our good-bye, lover boy. You got any last-minute mentor advice for me?" Haymitch even manages to smile at his own joke.
I almost expect Peeta to tell Haymitch to stay alive. The admonition is an old joke between us at this point. Except the whole reason that it's Haymitch and not Peeta joining me tomorrow is so that he won't stay alive. The thought robs me of breath.
Peeta croaks out, "Haymitch…" and then trails off. He hesitates for just a moment, then he walks up to Haymitch and pulls him into a hug. I can't help but let out a teary laugh at Haymitch's outraged expression, or the awkward way he moves his arms just slightly in the direction of returning the hug. "Thank you," Peeta says roughly, then finally steps back and releases Haymitch. "There are no words to thank you for this."
Now Haymitch actually looks embarrassed. "Well, I've been slowly killing myself for the last 25 years, really. May as well finish the job for a good cause."
"Well, if this actually works, we'll make sure our kid knows they owe their life to Grandpa Haymitch," Peeta says.
Haymitch waves him off. "All right, all right, enough of this sappy stuff," he says. "Try to get some sleep tonight."
We both nod at him. "You have your district token?" Peeta asks.
For just a moment I think Peeta is talking to me, but Haymitch is the one who answers him. "Yeah, I got it in my room. Don't worry, I'll make sure I have it with me when we leave."
"You have a token?" I ask. It never occurred to me that Haymitch would have something so sentimental. I wouldn't have one, either, if Madge hadn't insisted last year.
"The boy insisted," Haymitch explains.
I turn to Peeta. "Everyone should have a token," he says evasively. Then he changes the subject. "Come on, let's go to bed. Haymitch is right about getting as much sleep as we can tonight."
I let him wrap an arm around my waist and lead me away towards our room, fully intending to interrogate him further once we get there, but after only a few steps Haymitch calls after us. "Katniss." This brings me up short; he almost never calls me by my actual name. I turn and look at him intently. "It might be a chilly night. Dress warmly."
I instantly know he's talking about my sleeves, and I have to tightly fist my hands to keep from touching them and giving it away to the cameras undoubtedly watching us right now. It appears that he has, in fact, been conspiring with Cinna. I have a million questions, but of course I can't ask any of them here. I just nod and say, "Will do." He nods back and turns to leave.
Once Peeta and I are in our room I make an exaggerated yawn. "I'm so tired I don't even want to get undressed. I'm just going straight to bed." With that I immediately get under the covers. Peeta gives me a confused look, and I stare back at him intently, begging him to go along with me. "Come on Peeta, let's just go to bed."
Finally he shrugs and says, "If you say so," and crawls into bed with me, still in his suit.
I carefully wrap my arms around him and yawn again. "I haven't been this tired since that time we walked into town the morning after the Quell announcement," I say. "Do you remember that walk?"
I can almost feel Peeta thinking. "Yes," he says warily.
"Good," I say. "Then let's get some sleep." Peeta just grunts in reply as we settle down.
I really do try to sleep, because I now fully expect we'll be interrupted at some point overnight.
…..
Our wake-up call comes not too many hours later. I wasn't really sleeping, so I noticed immediately when the building lost power. You tend to forget how much noise all the Capitol technology constantly makes until it all shuts off at once.
I'm already rousing Peeta when our door opens. I'm expecting Haymitch, but I look up to find Finnick Odair leaning into our room. "Rise and shine you crazy cats, it's time to head upstairs."
"Upstairs?" Peeta asks sleepily.
There's only one thing upstairs from here. "The roof," I say. "Come on."
We exit to the suite to find Haymitch coming from the other direction. He's changed out of his interview suit and into what passes for a normal outfit in these Capitol-supplied wardrobes, dark brown pants and a blue shirt with a metallic shimmer to it. The top several buttons of the shirt are left undone, revealing a gold medallion hanging from his neck. We don't say anything as we all head straight for the stairs.
The Training Center roof has always been an oasis for Peeta and me here in the Capitol, even back before our first Games when there really wasn't a "Peeta and me" yet. This was where I told Peeta about how I knew Lavinia, sharing secrets with him that I had never told anyone before. This was where we met the night before the Games after I had injured his hands, when I spent my last night before a fight to the death upset that my competitor wouldn't fight harder for his own life. Just remembering times like that makes me shake my head at what a thickheaded idiot I was when I had trouble figuring out my true feelings for Peeta after the Games.
And of course, the roof was where just yesterday we spent what we thought might be our last day together. Our last picnic, our last sunset. Our last lazy summer evening.
But maybe it won't be our last after all, because we exit the top of the stairway to find about a dozen people waiting to board a hovercraft. A hovercraft! People scamper up the ladder as quickly as they can, but it's still taking an agonizingly long time considering that a Capitol hovercraft could come along and blow us out of the sky at any moment.
Finally, after what feels like hours but is surely only a couple of minutes, there's only a handful of us left. I've lingered down here, knowing that I'm probably the only one with a weapon to defend us. Peeta has stayed, because Peeta will always stay with me. Haymitch is still here too, annoyed at the two of us for not being the first ones up.
Finnick and another of the Four victors are helping old Mags up the ladder when I hear what I think are footsteps coming from the stairwell. Years of hunting have made me keenly sensitive to the sounds of steps. I walk a few paces away from everyone else to try to listen more closely. The sound is becoming clearer as whoever it is nears the top of the stairs. "Haymitch, are we expecting anyone else to join us?"
Haymitch gives me a look. "No."
I raise my right arm, fumbling for a moment before my fingers land on what I'm still only assuming is the trigger for a poison dart. "Someone's coming up the stairs. Sounds like more than one." We all have just a moment to brace ourselves. I kneel down so I can steady my arm as I hold it out. I don't dare divert my attention to see what Haymitch and Peeta are doing, but I trust them to have my back.
Suddenly the door to the stairway bursts open, slamming into the near wall. Behind it is a single Peacekeeper, panting for breath, and missing his helmet. I can see his eyes widen at the sight of us and the hovercraft. He's still raising his gun to shoot at us when my dart hits him in the cheek.
Even as I'm firing Peeta is running past me. The Peacekeeper's body seems to jerk once before it begins to fall, but by then Peeta is there. He grabs the Peacekeeper's gun and shoves the body back down the stairs to obstruct anyone else trying to follow. Peeta lets his momentum carry him past the open doorway, just in time to avoid the return fire of more Peacekeepers. I raise up my left arm ready to fire my other dart at anyone else coming through the door. Peeta fumbles with the gun for an agonizingly long moment, but eventually he steadies his grip. He pokes the barrel around the corner and starts firing blindly into the stairwell. Several more shots come back up at us, but they all fly off harmlessly into the sky.
Peeta must force whoever is down the stairs to take cover, because after a while no more shots come back up at us. Into the lull Haymitch's voice comes from behind me. "You two get the hell up here!" I turn quickly and see that he's inside the hovercraft, gesturing madly for us to follow him. Peeta and I are the only ones left on the roof now.
Peeta is still on the opposite side of the door from me, he has to get past the open doorway to get back to the hovercraft, so I run up and slam the door shut from the near side. It won't hold a pursuer for more than a second, but it hides Peeta from their view as he ducks past the door and we both bolt for the hovercraft ladder. As soon as we touch it the current freezes us, and the hovercraft is leaving before we're even retracted inside. I hear the pop-pop-pop of the Peacekeepers firing at us, but we're too far away now.
Finally we're inside the hovercraft and the current releases us. There are several Victors and even some Capitol people staring at us. What a sight we must make, me in my maternity gown with the mockingjay on my protruding belly, and Peeta in his sleep-rumpled suit carrying a Peacekeeper rifle.
After three days, I know most of these Victors, at least a little. Almost all of them are the tributes I've been training with – Finnick, Mags, Chaff, Seeder, Beetee, Wiress, Johanna. But none of these people know Peeta, so I'm still slightly wary as the silence drags on.
It's Finnick who finally speaks up. "Damn, they really do make a good team when Peeta isn't dying in a ditch somewhere."
I glare at him, but Peeta snarks, "Yeah, I try to do less of that these days."
Several of the Victors laugh at him, while Haymitch grouses, "Don't give them a big head. You see what a pain in the ass it is trying to keep them alive?" He turns to us. "Only you two could manage to run into danger in the middle of a giant coordinated rescue operation of which you were the primary targets," he says, shaking his head.
I want to say that I was the only one armed, so I had to be the one to guard our rear, but I hold my tongue. There are more than just the Victors here, there are the pilots and technicians flying this thing, and a handful of Capitol people who are coming with us to… wherever it is we're escaping to. Someone in some sort of uniform I don't recognize comes and takes the rifle from Peeta. He lets them have it because we're really not in a position to start a fight over it right now, and it reinforces my decision to keep quiet. I don't know any of these people. For that matter, I have to remind myself that I don't really know these Victors either. Three days of sharing a training gym is not enough for me to trust them with our secrets, even if I do feel a certain camaraderie with them. So I stay silent.
My suspicions are confirmed when I see Haymitch imperceptibly nod at me in approval. Just like the Games don't end when you leave the arena, whatever game we're part of now hasn't ended just because we've escaped the Training Center.
Haymitch leads us to another room with seats, and finally begins explaining some of what's going on, starting with the rescue plan that we were surprised with tonight. The Victors who were part of the rebellion secretly made their way up to our floor, then the power for the whole building was cut, immobilizing the elevators and disabling the forcefield on the roof. After that it was just a matter of getting everyone up to the roof and onto the hovercraft before power was restored. The Peacekeepers actually did us a favor by sending all of the staff home after the interviews; there were no technicians left in the building who could restore power in time to stop us.
Rather than ask Haymitch for more details, Peeta looks at me accusingly. "You knew this was happening," he says. It's not a question.
Peeta's angry that I knew something about all of this and didn't tell him. And he has every right to be. Even worse, I still can't explain the clues I had that I wasn't able to share with him, because I don't want to give away the secret of my remaining weapon. Instead I say, "I didn't know what was happening, but Cinna gave me this dress," and hope he gets what I'm referring to. "And then Haymitch told me to keep it on overnight. I assumed that meant that something would be happening overnight."
Peeta just keeps staring at me. I don't really know what to tell him. "I tried to tip you off as much as I thought I could get away with. I brought up our talk the morning after the Quell announcement, when we talked about Haymitch having a secret plan he was hiding from us. I didn't think I could get away with saying anything more than that. I couldn't exactly explain my suspicions to our surveillance team."
I don't know if I've mollified Peeta or not, but after a moment he turns back to Haymitch. "How did you knock out the power?" he asks. "A building like the Training Center has to have its own independent backup."
"Every system has its weak points," Haymitch says, "and every system has people who know those weak points but aren't seen as threats."
"The Avoxes," I say, my blood running cold.
"Yep," is all Haymitch says.
Darius and Lavinia. Darius who stood up to the brutality of Romulus Thread and was punished as a traitor for it. Lavinia who was willing to share her name with me last night, hers and her boyfriend's – not because I was about to die, I realize, but because she was. I close my eyes and I can feel tears forming. "Please just tell me we know they're dead, and not captured. Please tell me they won't be tortured."
Haymitch says nothing, which answers my question. I bow my head and let the tears flow.
Whatever Peeta is feeling about my failure to share my suspicions with him, it doesn't stop him from pulling me into an embrace now. I bury my face against his chest as he runs his hands up and down my back. Haymitch reaches out and claps a hand on my shoulder. "Listen, they knew what they were getting into. We all knew that only Avoxes could get down there without being chased away by Peacekeepers, and we knew that whoever knocked out the power was never going to make it out of there. They wanted to do it anyway. The both of them volunteered to go. They thought the rebellion was worth it. They thought you were worth it."
This only makes me cry harder, but a fierce determination grows in me as well. I nod my head and cover Haymitch's hand with my own. "I understand," I say, "but that only leaves us with one choice."
"What's that?" Haymitch asks.
My voice goes hard, despite the tears that flow down my cheeks. "We're going to make sure this rebellion is worth it."
…..
It's some time later when Peeta asks a question that had honestly slipped my mind with everything else going on. "So, does anybody want to tell us where we're going?"
…..
District Thirteen. Alive and well. Still desolate above ground, though not still smoking like in the videos they always show on television. But thriving below the surface, a series of tunnels and bunkers expanded over the years into a thriving subterranean city, secretly surviving outside the control of the Capitol for the last 75 years.
When we arrive, Peeta and I are brought into some kind of command meeting with important people from the district and the wider rebellion. Haymitch is here, along with many of the other Victors who escaped with us tonight. Also here are the Gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee and his assistant Fulvia Cardew. As are a handful high-ranking District Thirteen soldiers. And finally we meet the President of District Thirteen, Alma Coin.
I immediately dislike this woman. Maybe I'm just having an adverse reaction to the title President? Maybe our personalities just don't mix? Maybe it's her hair? We did get off on the wrong foot when she greeted me as Soldier Everdeen and tried to tell me that my "Capitol marriage" could be ignored here, but even after disabusing her of that misconception my unease has only continued to grow. Something about her is telling me that she is not my ally, that she may in fact be every bit as dangerous as Snow.
Peeta seems to sense this as well, as he's been very quiet during this entire discussion. He sits on my right, holding my hand to offer support and silently observing the proceedings. Waiting until we can talk privately and decide together how to handle all of this.
Plutarch does most of the talking, interspersed with terse comments from Coin. Apparently they want me to be the figurehead of the rebellion, to film a series of propaganda videos to rally support for our side. I think I could do it, if we just let Peeta do all the talking. It'll be just like when we were on display for the Capitol.
And that thought helps crystallize exactly what I don't like about Alma Coin.
But as the discussion continues, I can tell that there's something else going on. It's not just the look of disdain that Coin can't entirely hide whenever we speak to one another. Other Thirteen soldiers keep giving me strange looks too – some are merely curious, while others seem almost… sorrowful. But it's not until I realize that Haymitch hasn't looked straight at me the entire time that I realize something serious is going on.
I try to remain calm and not speculate about what might be happening. All I can think of is that Snow has retaliated for our escaping the Capitol by doing something to Prim, or Mom, or the Mellarks. But if I keep thinking about these things I'm going to break down in front of everyone, so I try to clear my mind of these thoughts and wait until a bit of a lull in the conversation to find my answers.
"So," I say to no one in particular but find myself looking at Coin, "Is someone going to tell me what's going on are you all going to lie to me and then tell me it was for my own good like usual?"
Coin gives me an angry stare, but Haymitch is the one who answers. "The latter."
"Yeah, I wasn't really counting that as a valid option," I reply, still looking at Coin.
"Well then it's a good thing you don't determine what actions are valid around here," Coin says with annoyance.
"If you actually want me to perform for you as part of this resistance, you can start by losing that attitude," I tell her. "We don't necessarily have to like each other in order to work together, but it would be nice if my existence wasn't quite so distasteful to you. I already have experience dealing with Presidents who find my existence distasteful." The flinch she gives to that comparison gives me some petty satisfaction. "Then you can stop lying to me and keeping important information from me. You can tell me why the soldiers reading reports on that monitor over there keep giving me looks, why Haymitch can't stand to look at me. What's going on?"
Coin stares at me for a moment before speaking. She seems to be reassessing me, but her demeanor doesn't improve any. She's not reevaluating me as a potential ally, she's just realizing she underestimated an enemy. It's almost exactly the look President Snow gave me just before wishing he could resurrect Seneca Crane and punish him all over again for not killing me in the arena.
She has far too many similarities to Snow for my comfort, and I've barely met her.
"That information is of a military nature and you have no need for military information," she says. "So, moving on–"
"No, we're not moving on yet," I say, purposefully interrupting her. The Thirteen soldiers don't look too pleased with that. "I'm through sitting around having pleasant discussions with people who lie to me. Somebody'd better explain to me exactly what's going on, right now."
"That is not information you need or are authorized for," Coin says coolly.
"Snow's retaliating for you two escaping the Capitol," Haymitch says, earning a glare from Coin. "He's bombing District Twelve."
Oh no. Prim. Gale. Peeta's family. Everyone and everything I've ever cared about, wiped off the map. Peeta squeezes my hand tighter, and we exchange a look of horror. "Wh– When? Do we know? We have to warn them! We have to stop them!"
"They've already started," Haymitch says. "It's a full Capitol bombing fleet. They got there before we got here. There's nothing we can do."
"We can't just sit here and do nothing while people are dying!" I yell back at him.
"Oh, really?" Coin asks disdainfully. It's then that I realize what she won't say: Doing nothing while people die in the districts is exactly what Thirteen does. It's what they've been doing for 75 years. They're kind of like the Capitol that way.
There's that thought again.
I take a deep breath to try to calm myself. "If you can't do anything to protect Twelve," I say in what for me is a diplomatic voice but which probably comes across as a sneer, "then what preparations are being made to help the survivors?"
Coin's lips almost twitch. "Survivors?" The idea sounds so foreign to her.
"Yes, survivors," I say. "People who don't die in the bombing. People who may be seriously injured, and at the very least have nowhere to go now that their homes have been destroyed while we all sit here having drinks and planning video shoots. What's the plan for finding and helping the survivors?"
"Didn't you hear that this is a full Capitol bombing fleet? There will be no survivors," Coin declares. Then she looks away from me and back to Haymitch. I don't look away from her, though. I'm studying her now, and an idea is forming in my head. "This is why you shouldn't have told her. She's no good to me if she can't follow orders," Coin says.
Coin and I need to have this out and settle things between us before we can work together, and we need to do it right now, in time to help save District Twelve. "Hey," I call out derisively, "I'm right here, Coin. If you've got a problem with me you can take it up with me."
She looks back to me, and it's as if I can see her hatred of me seeping from every pore in her skin. "You want me to take it up with you, fine. If you want to actually do something to help people, all of the people and not just your little friends from back home, then you need to grow the hell up. If all you're going to do is sit here and throw temper tantrums whenever things don't go your way, then you're useless to this rebellion and you can go right back to the Capitol for all I care."
I struggle to hold my temper. "Right now, people are being killed. By the thousands. Those are real people, with real lives, that are ending. Right now. And the only thing you want to do about it is hold a meeting to decide how to best work it into a propo. Which of us doesn't care about helping people again?"
Coin gives me what may be the coldest look I've ever seen from another person. Snow's looks could make me feel as weak and defenseless as a rabbit trapped in a snare, but Coin's look communicates exactly what she thinks of me: I'm lower than pond scum to her. "The best thing we can do for people is to overthrow the Capitol. I've been working at that a lot longer than you've even been alive. I've been in charge of this district and the resistance to President Snow for twenty years now. I'm not going to let some little girl in Capitol finery dictate to me how to run this rebellion."
Twenty years? She's becoming almost as entrenched as Snow. She already seems about as tolerant of dissent. And whatever sort of resistance she's been running in that time, it doesn't seem to have done any good for anyone outside of Thirteen. Darius and Lavinia didn't make their sacrifice so that this woman could take power. Something needs to be done, and it's clear that I'm the one that has to do it. I'm the face of their rebellion; Coin said so herself. I'm the only one here who seems willing to stand up to her. And I know I'm the only one who's able to do what I'm contemplating now.
Just as I'm making my decision, realization dawns on me. I look over to Haymitch. I can tell he knows I've figured it out, and he gives me a look that confirms my thinking. This was their plan all along. I don't know if that makes it a better or a worse idea, but it does help steel my resolve. I've trusted them this far, after all.
I almost laugh out loud at that thought. How many times tonight have I let it guide my actions? If I get out of this alive I may never trust anyone ever again.
"There's two things you should know about me, Alma Coin," I say, returning my attention to the president. "One, I'm through being used as a piece in other people's games. From now on no one owns me but me. And two, this bit of Capitol finery was designed by my friend Cinna." Cinna, who was conspiring with Haymitch and the rebellion. Cinna, who signed his own death sentence to give me this dress. Cinna, who passed me my mockingjay pin earlier tonight; not because he didn't think he'd be there to give it to me tomorrow, but because he knew that I wouldn't be there to receive it. Cinna, who apparently knew where I was going to end up before the end of the night and prepared me for my destination by giving me covert weapons.
And with a flick of my left wrist, the body of former President Alma Coin is slumped over the conference table before any of the District 13 soldiers can even draw their sidearms.
…..
Sic semper President Coin.
Not saying anything here because I'm really interested to see people's reactions to this one. :)
Next chapter: Well, I just skipped the last third of Catching Fire and short-circuited most of Mockingjay. So who knows WTF comes next?
Preview quote from Chapter 27:
"So, does District 13 have a Vice President?"
