Chapter Twenty-One - "Unlikely Heroes"

I need a break.

My fast trudge slows to a tired shamble as I continue my desperate escape through the tunnel system. I end up coming to a halt completely, leaning against the concrete wall in a desperate attempt to regain my bearings. Everything from my waist downward was soiled with water and Panem knows whatever else was mixed up with it. The object that pierced my shoulder wasn't a bullet but rather an arrow bolt. Giving my shoulder a roll is enough to bring on a wave of discomfort, both because of the pain and the sticky blood that coats the entirety of my left side.

I prefer this in comparison to whatever Rief and his gang would do to me if I weren't as determined.

Paulus whistles to get my attention, jutting his jaw toward something. "Zen, you're in luck."

"...Huh? How am I…?" Any niggling thoughts about my last moments are quickly quashed when I shine my communicuff's flashlight further down the tunnel. The front face of a train car stares back at me.

My vision goes from eyeing a smug-looking Paulus to down the tunnel from where I came. I steady my breath and perform a listening halt, holding my position as I still myself, just listening for my pursuers.

One minute in, I hear nothing. They're just as blind as I am down here, which should buy me enough time to prowl around, find another route to the surface.

I quickly trudge my way onboard the train. It's just as wet as the tunnels but at least it it isn't waist deep. It reeks of mold and that one-of-a-kind smell that's signature to train stations. The first thing to greet my vision is a mid- tier loot box. I crack a grin. Despite being close to death, I can't help but feel giddy when I come across these things. Sunshine on a cloudy day. I retrieve a proper flashlight, bent at ninety degrees, a serrated sword and shotgun shells - six of them.

I caress the red-colored hulls in my hand, wishing that I had a shotgun here and now. Cohen and his pals would have a very bad day if that were the case.

"Too bad," says Paulus. "I'd love a shotgun in a place like this…The only equalizer if you ask me."

"Shame." I mumble. Hopefully soon I'll come across a cache containing one. These other guys would be in a heap of trouble if or when I do. I decide to leave the sword behind, because I have no space to properly store it. I debate retrieving my first aid kit to deal with the arrow in my arm. The bolt is proving to be more of a nuisance with each minute it remains lodged inside me. I decide against troubling it, instead choosing to take a moment and rest. Who knows, because Rief and his crew haven't come knocking, perhaps they got all turned around somewhere along the way and got lost.

My brief moments of rest are interrupted as I jump at the sound of rushing water and someone…emerging from it. I hear the telltale sound of water dripping off a person. The person somehow manages to get on top of the cart, their heavy footsteps trudging down the length of it. The trudge quickly turns into a rapid patter of feet.

"Shit!" I hiss, stuffing the shells in my pocket as I level my rifle towards the source of the noise. "The fuck was that?"

"Beats me," Paulus hisses back in reply, rising up from the seat opposite of mine. He nudges his head further down the train. "I think it's time to keep moving-"

It's then that I hear a series of harsh whispers and the trudging of feet through water. My body runs hot with anxiety when the door to the front of the car opens. A black object is lobbed in, splashing into the water like a stone.

My flashlight follows the foreign object, my heart nearly giving out when I see an olive green ball bobbing in the still water. I know that object from years of lobbing them at the range.

I exchange looks with Paulus as his face contorts with fear. "Shit, Zen get down!"

I manage to clear ten meters and dive into the still water but I know it isn't enough. Those things have a five to fifteen meter kill radius and in a place like a train car…well…I cover my head and pray to The Capitol for the best.

The result is a loud thump that causes my insides to shudder and my head to rattle. Instead of my waist being soaked, my entire body is chilled to the bone as water douses me from head to toe. I hear the glass windows shatter all around me. My legs dance in pain as I feel like I'm being stung by a thousand tracker-jackers.

Paulus is already by the exit. "Time to leave!"

Groaning, I spring upward like no one's business, ignoring the stinging pain in my legs. Still, the sensation causes me to hobble a tad as I force myself into an upright position.

Just as I barely regain my bearings Slate Lawson emerges through the smoke with a pistol in hand. The fresh-faced fourteen-year-old regards me with shock as he quickly lines the barrel up with me. On the opposite end, A female from Ten boards the train with her pistol drawn.

They both raise their weapons forward just as I spy a shattered oblong window. Without sparing a single thought, I leap through it. As I tumble through the air, I hear a loud pop conjoined with someone crying out in pain while bleating out a string of curses. As I crash onto the tiled floor of the station platform, the bolt in my shoulder is startled by the movement, prompting me to cry out in discomfort.

Screw it. What's the worst that can happen? I need to get rid of this thing. I grip the bolt and tug it out, grunting as a brief bout of pain pangs out from my shoulder. I lift my head up as I hear more commotion from behind me.

"We almost got her," Rief barks out. "Keep the pressure up!"

My body alive with pain now, I spy a concession stand some twenty meters away. I scramble towards it, making sure to shift diagonally from left to right as I hear a series of loud pops and the resulting rounds whizzing past me and into the surrounding scenery. The fragments in my legs make this a nearly impossible feat, as with each time my legs pound against the tiling, the resulting pain nearly causes me to crash face first onto the floor. If it weren't for years of throwing my body through the ringer, I'd be at the mercy of Rief and his gang by now.

Just in the nick of time, I dive over the desk as a flurry of bullets pepper the rotten paper displayed over it. Quickly, give my rifle a split second check and let it roar.

I spray a burst toward Rief and Esmeralda, who take cover behind a pillar.

I swivel to the right, firing a burst toward an Eleven female who crumples back first onto the ground, clutching her stomach. Just beside the downed Eleven, A female from Ten peaks out from behind a pillar, aiming a pistol toward me.

I duck as a flurry of bullets kick up more grime and dust in front of me. The entirety of the concourse is choked with smoke.

"There's nowhere to go, Spitfire!" Rief calls out from behind a pillar.

"You're fucked, y'hear me!" says a D10 male, judging by the slang. "Fucked!"

"One against a dozen," I clap back with a cackle, popping off one shot. "Really proves how shit you all are! Can't you take a girl one on one?!"

I fire towards Rief, turning towards the others to keep them at bay. My heart drops when I hear a noise compared to that of a stalling car. I consult the rifle for further inspection and let out a sharp curse.

Stoppage. The bolt is fully to the rear.

It's funny. Outside of the arena I could clear this stoppage in a millisecond. Years of having Floris and the Academy's NCO corps breathe down my neck made me able to do so. But now, as bullets rain down on my position, and Cohen's band of rebels close in on my position, I could barely will myself to clear it now.

"Are you fuckin' with me right now!?" Paulus barks at me. "Ms. Jack of all trades, master of all things can't clear a stoppage under pressure?! Clear that jam, Zen!"

"I am, give me a fuckin' second!" I screech back, my hands are trembling something fierce as I try to manipulate my way around the gun. The bullets going off, my bleeding legs, it's all too much right now! I let out a snarl. "Fuck fuck shit! Fuckin' piece of garbage rifle!"

Just as I place the rifle to the side and activate my gauntlets. I hear a series of loud screeches that were in no way shape or form human. The screeches are so loud that their gunfire ceases.

Then a girl lets out a scream of agony.

Tentatively, I peer over the edge of the stand. I could only join my assailants and watch on in horror as a man-sized, rat-like creature sinks its jaws into the chest of the Eleven female I had shot. Wounded and defenseless, all she could do was scream like a madwoman as the mutt treats her like a chew toy, lifting her up into the air before slamming her back down again. The flashlights attached to each tribute make the scene as clear as day as even more muttations join in.

A meter away from me stands a male from Four. He turns around from the gruesome scene, A machine gun in his hands. His face contorts from shock into pure hatred while he twists his body to face me.

"Y'know what they say, Zen." Paulus says, vaulting over the counter. "When opportunity knocks…"

"Open the door and embrace it!" I finish, taking Four by the collar and yanking him over the counter with all my might.

Astonished with his hands splayed outward, Four fires off a burst of bullets from his gun as I heave him along the length of the counter and slam him to the ground. He's too stunned to react as I press a katar into his chest, blood erupting from his mouth as his whole body reacts to the strike.

I claim his machine gun in one hand and my rifle in the other, vaulting over the counter once more. What I see before me is a flurry of flashlights and gunfire as my attackers seem to be on the defense now, barking amongst themselves as a dozen rat mutts descend upon them. The screeching of the rats overtakes the commands and gunfire of Rief and his gang.

Two cannons go off. The Four who lies still inside the kiosk, and that Eleven female more than likely.

Rief manages to impale a mutt with his trident. He glances up from his handiwork, his face contorting into a frown as I fire a burst at him. He drops to the ground as the bullets impact the pillar behind him.

The gun clicks, signifying its emptiness.

I'll be back for you soon, Cohen. If he isn't in the stomach of a rat mutt, I'll have all the time in the world to settle our quarrel. Discarding the gun, I make my way upstairs where I see the faintest of lights shining down from the supposed surface. I make myself scarce, feeling the clamor of the subway platform as I trudge up the steps.

On the landing, I see Slate nursing a bloodied arm. When my light shines on him, his eyes go wide like a deer's.

"'Member...when you asked me what 'compelled me' to come here...?" I ask him between breaths, I taking an aim shot with my rifle. He isn't Matix, Shadd or the rest of them, but he'll do. "Lemme show you."

The rifle clicks. The fucking thing is jammed and I haven't cleared it yet. With the mutts and the shootout I'd forgotten. I glance down at the jammed receiver and back up toward Slate.

He's gone.

I hiss out the hottest of curses as I make my way up the stairs, deftly removing the magazine and clearing the receiver - fixing the stoppage.

When I make the landing, I see Slate, twenty meters ahead, shambling towards the stairs that would take us to the surface proper.

I stagger after him, ignoring the pain in my legs as I fire some shots off. They all miss as Slate proves a difficult person to off, shuffling from left to right as my rounds ricochet off nearby surroundings.

"Zen, stop!" Paulus yearns.

I stagger to a halt, gasping when a mass emerges from the shadows, tackling Slate to the ground. I focus my flashlight on the scene, with Slate's light activated as well it makes what's going on as clear as day to see. It's a rat mutt, sinking its fangs into Slate's leg. It sinks its mouth down, severing it. I barely register that the appendage, clad in khaki because of the pants Slate wore, is entirely separated from his body.

Missing a leg, Slate screams bloody murder, flailing around as he raises his hands in surrender to the mutt who goes for the other leg, taking it in its jaws as he flails the unfortunate fourteen-year-old around.

The mutt tosses him a few meters away and I can't help but follow with my light.

Slate lands smack dab in the middle of a gang of more rats. They descend on him immediately. In a flurry of gnashing teeth and flailing tails, Slate barely gets a millisecond of screams in before he's torn to shreds.

I barely repress a deep shudder as his cannon rings out.

"Zen, behind you!"

I spin my body around, my flashlight illuminating the six foot tall muttation. It had the telltale features of a human, one beady blue eye in contrast to the baseball-sized black ball signature to a rodent. Tufts of hair are removed, showcasing the pecs and belly button. It's grotesque.

It lets out a screech, which quickly ceases when I fire a burst into its mouth.

Blood peppering my vision, I take a hand and wipe my face of the excess while I stagger backward. The bang catches the attention of the mutt's friends, prompting them to lumber - and crawl - toward me.

I fix a bayonet onto my rifle and take up a defensive stance. I wasn't going to go out like Slate Lawson, that's for sure.

I swear as my flashlight dances across the various mutts approaching me, one of them had his arm in it's mouth. They're blocking my way toward the surface.

If I'm going to go out, I'm taking a few of these things with me. I take an aim shot and fire toward a mutt that gets too close, watching as it's head implodes like a smashed pumpkin. Another gets antsy and tries to rush me, earning a bayonet to the eye. It's human-like screams make me cringe.

The mutts get tactical, trying to box me in as I maneuver past the station's various pillars. It's like a game of tag. I move to one pillar, they chase me to another. One of them tries to get me, they earn a bayonet or lead.

I'm tired. I can feel it in my lungs and my shoddy footwork. I grit my teeth and attempt to put on a brave face, but it's getting to that point where I might be devoured in front of millions nationwide.

A mutt lunges forward, coaxing me against a wall. Slinking against it without cover, a dozen rats slowly lumber towards me. One rat, bigger than the rest with its brown fur contrasting against the black of its pals, gets on its hind legs and lets out a deafening screech.

Just as I prep myself for the worst, I see it. A bottle flying through the air, it's tip a bright orange.

My eyes wide, I watch as it lands on the 'lead mutt', dousing it and three others in flames. They let out a horrible shriek, wreathing on the ground like erratic firecrackers.

"Zenobia, we're here!" a familiar voice cries out.

My head whips to the right, startled to see the Capitols bursting onto the scene. Daphne, Cicero and what appear to be three tributes from One fending off the remaining mutts with their respective weapons. You'd think they were Careers the way they were shouting out plays to one another and going toe-to-toe with those mutts like they were nothing. And then Syndra rushes onto the scene, firing off a revolver of all things. When did they get all professional?

"Alright Max, get Zenobia up," she calls out, blowing the head clean off the shoulders of an approaching mutt with three well-placed shots. "Quickly now, we don't want to overstay our welcome!"

Maximus comes into view, securing me by the crook of my armpit and knees. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, inviting the pain to ebb its way throughout my body. I can't help but let out a moan of pain. Shoulder, legs…lungs.

"Easy Zenobia, we're almost out of our bind," Max soothes.

Syndra takes the lead, quickly bounding the steps to the surface. Like a Peacekeeper out of a propo, marshalling his troops forward into battle, she motions us toward her with her revolver in hand.

"We are leaving everyone!" she cries. "Cicero, put that gun to work!"

"Oh I'm putting it, don't you worry!" he calls back, his gun rattling off more shots immediately after.

As we begin making our leave, one of the Ones turns around from fending off the mutts. He fixes me with his blues along with a deep frown.

"They brought us down here for her?!"

"Shut up and pay attention for Panem's sake!" Daphne snaps, feinting a thrust towards a mutt. This startles Max, who nearly drops me in return. He reconstitutes himself, adjusting me once more. I let out an involuntary groan as every muscle from head to toe screams out in resistance to the sudden movements.

Max glances down at me with pursed lips. "We're almost safe Zenobia. Just hold on and rest easy, alright?"

I can't hear the screeching of the mutts as much, just the rattling of gunfire and the voices of the others attempting to make themselves loud and imposing against the remaining creatures. Despite his saying so, I fight to stay awake long enough to see the open sky again.

Being on the surface again really makes me appreciate the open air.

Max sets me gently onto the ground, against a concrete slab. He offers me my canteen. I gulp it down like it's been months without it. Paulus takes a knee next to me, snorting while shaking his head like some disappointed parent.

"Man…You are one lucky bitch."

"Yea…" I grunt back in reply. Max glances at me before turning his attention back to his own canteen.

There's a commotion among Syndra and Cicero. She motions for something, prompting Cicero to lob her what looks like a brick. She retreats back into the subway and then back out again, making a beeline straight towards me.

"Thank Panem we found you," She coos, placing a hand on my good shoulder. "I'm so glad you're as okay as you can be, all things considered..."

There's a really loud noise that makes my head hurt and causes my entire body to rumble. I'm not the only one, everyone's head whips back toward the subway entrance. A plume of thick smoke erupts from the stairs.

"Dynamite," Syndra explains with a tired chuckle. "Chances are, whatever's down there won't be coming up this way…"

My eyes squint in confusion…and exhaustion. I'm so confused. "H-How…-?"

"I'll gladly explain later," she says, waving me off as she takes me by the hand. "You just rest, ok? I got a great place set up not too far from here. I'll explain soon."

"Kay…" I manage to grumble out. Breathing was becoming a chore, as was keeping my eyes open. Who woulda thunk that Capitolites could play the Game as good as any other districtperson.

As my allies settle into place, drinking their canteens or taking a well-deserved breather, the last thing my eyes focus on before whiting out is the smoke that continues to bellow out from the now-destroyed subway entrance.

Coming Up Next...

Would you look at that. The holograms are actually worth their weight. With that, the 'children' disappear, leaving us in silence once again. Almost immediately, all eyes shift onto me once more, all of them filled with uneasy anticipation. I can't blame them for their anxieties, but they all knew as soon as their names were drawn that they were heading into a quagmire, that they wouldn't find 'peace' like the rest of the nation was doing until they themselves were dead or being crowned.

"So?" Syndra chimes with a slightly chipper tone in her voice. "What's the plan, Zenobia?"