A Real War

The three victors continued their escape without Liev. On they ran, into one of the Capitol's business districts towards the residences of many of the wealthiest citizens. They were hoping to reach the train station, to reach their homes on the outgoing goods and peacekeepers transports. But the train station felt far away. Liev had died, the arena had fallen and taken with it so many of their friends. Nine victors from Districts Six and Seven arrived in the Capitol following the reaping and now only three remained to journey home. They could only hope that Johanna was safe.

They worked their way forward, one block at a time, hiding their faces from Capitol dwellers forced to return home, staying alert to the threat of peacekeepers. The noise from the chaos in the centre was creating confusion as the shouts from the crowds echoed around the streets that sprawled out into the Capitol.

But as the victors crossed the street between blocks, a gunshot rang out closer to them. Sensing the greater proximity, Linder screamed at Sawyer to go to ground as he pushed Poppy to the floor covering her body with his. The bullet sailed past them as they lay on the floor, in shock at their latest close encounter with death.

"Move," Linden urged.

Staying close to the ground, the three victors weaved across the road to hide at the corner of the next block before figuring out their next move.

"We can't stay in one place, we'll end up trapped," Poppy said.

"We don't know how close they are. That last shot could have been stray."

"Or, they've found us again," Sawyer added.

With that, Sawyer extended his arm and fired into the centre of the adjacent road to determine whether he would be met with a response. Another gunshot followed.

"Double back, go around," he said as he took the lead once more with Linden and Poppy following behind.

The three victors continued in their journey, running once more through the streets of the Capitol's centre, quickly tiring and beginning to run out of options. They were not encircled but they needed to escape before that became a reality. With the gunshot coming from the road they wanted to cross, they turned back and along a side street they had not previously used, evading the peacekeepers.

But a few moments of grace would be all the victors had before they met the peacekeepers once more. They had realised that the group had not attempted to escape via the Avenue of the Tributes after all. The three were under direct fire yet again. It was a stalemate. Each party remained in their locations, taking shots at each other, trying to do as much damage as possible before making a move. But any change in position would be a significant risk for the victors.

Sawyer fell quiet, his motions on pause whilst Poppy and Linden defended their position, before speaking, "On my count, run forwards and turn right. I'll go straight, distract them. Don't follow me."

"That's suicide!" Linden replied.

"It's giving you both the chance at an out. You have the best chance of making it back alive anyway."

"Sawyer-"

"No. You both do as I say. I've been around longer than you both. We're not Twos, Linden, but I'm pulling rank."

Poppy grabbed hold of Sawyer's wrist, "Thank you," she said earnestly.

"Only if you're sure. You have a chance to make it out."

"Linden, you've both been dedicated from the start. Go home. Poppy, get to Six. Our people need you both at home."

Linden pulled Sawyer into a firm hug and whispered his gratitude and apologies for the circumstances before Sawyer released him from his grasp and checked they were ready to move. He counted down, "Three. Two. One. Go!"

The three victors charged. Sawyer maintained a straight line with Linden and Poppy directly behind, aiming their guns at the peacekeepers at the sides before diverting sharply to the right. The peacekeepers focused on Sawyer, as he too focused on them before he fell to the ground, motionless and bleeding. This latest arena did not announce his death as his heart stopped beating and Linden and Poppy continued in their escape.

….

Noah and Maria made their way through the crowds, hiding among the chaos, heading in the direction of the gunshots. They noticed that the frequency of the shots was fast increasing and anxiously tried to move through the centre to reach their friends. It was obvious that they needed help but among the confusion, the two victors needed to remain undetected.

Suddenly, Noah pulled Maria in the direction of an abandoned peacekeeper truck. They were heading straight into an area where the peacekeepers were concentrated, directing people across the main streets to avoid further panic and to maintain order. But that would not assist Maria or Noah, they needed to avoid proximity with the peacekeepers and eye contact with as many people as possible.

Maria appeared less than impressed at what her accomplice was suggesting, "Are you serious? They'll notice us!"

"And we'll be on our way before they can shoot us."

"It's too risky!"

"And this isn't? We're about to walk into a route lined with peacekeepers on both sides and hundreds of anxious Capitols. We need to be out of their way."

"It is quicker, I suppose. Fewer screaming Capitols."

"Exactly, let's go!"

"Can you even drive?"

"Of course! How else do you think Four's 'borderland bandits' got around!"

"You Fours, why am I not surprised," Maria laughed as the pair headed for the abandoned vehicle.

But as they arrived, it seemed that other people had a similar idea. The truck was no longer abandoned. Three men were already inside, ready to leave before they noticed the latest arrivals.

"Noah, Maria, is it?"

"Who's asking?" Maria replied.

"Don't we know you?" Noah asked.

"I should hope so. If you're a friend of Blight's you will. Well, you ought. Our faces have been everywhere."

"Just like ours are about to be if we can't get out of here," Maria said.

"Blight's bandmates," Noah confirmed. "And you're going where?"

"To help Blight's friends. He told us what might happen. And it sounds like they need backup."

"We're coming with you. We're on our way to find them."

"And we'll get there quicker if you stop this chat, and get in. Shut the door behind you, Noah. Keep hold of your guns."

….

Chloe and Coral continued walking through the Capitol until they reached the Four House, the property brought by a Capitol contact of District Four's victors to give their activities an above-board façade. As with everything involving District Four's victors, the house provided cover for their real work and Chloe and Coral arrived to complete the tasks required of them before they attempted to journey home.

They deposited some of the money they had accumulated in the safe for collection by one of their associates who would help release the money to District Four and checked that no paper trail had been left behind by any of their most recent transactions. Finally, they collected the bags that had been prepared for their journey home, locked the door, hid the keys and began their journey. They were to meet Noah and travel together if possible. Contingencies were in place, but they trusted that Noah would meet them, and they would do their utmost to return home.

The streets in this part of the Capitol were quiet, however. Chloe and Coral had created distance between themselves and the chaos in the centre but undoubtedly, Games revellers who lived alongside the Four House ought to be returning home. The pair wanted to avoid recognition or a confrontation, so they kept their heads down and continued walking.

They made progress along the street towards the corner where they would turn to put them on the path to meeting Noah. The streets were still quiet, too quiet for their liking, and it was Chloe who spoke up first.

"I don't like this, Coral. It's too quiet."

"I know. Something's not right. But keep walking, heads down. Sidearm ready."

Whilst the two victors differed in their approaches to many tasks, they were united when it counted. Chloe, always more thoughtful and careful, in contrast to Coral's sheer confidence and impulsiveness. But they worked, in every aspect, from the moment Coral returned home from the Twenty-Eighth Hunger Games. This would be no different.

The couple continued down the street until Chloe noticed a figure in the first-floor window of one of the houses.

"Coral, are you thinking the same?"

"That we've just walked into an ambush?"

"Yes. Peacekeeper at three o'clock."

"There's a gun drawn at eleven o'clock. My side."

They shared a quick glance at each other, wordlessly agreeing their plan, "I've got you, Coral."

"You too, Chlo."

Instinctively, the victors turned back-to-back, taking a side of the street each and drawing their weapons. They briefly squeezed each other's hand in the split second they had free before a bullet sailed past them and both victors fired back.

The peacekeepers on the ground floor were too slow and fell to the floor. Chloe and Coral, through their ongoing training at the Centre, were both excellent with long-range, precision weapons. They had taken to firearms almost instinctively during the past few years as their preparations increased. But they were significantly outnumbered and as soon as two peacekeepers had fallen, two more took their place.

They fired at the upper floors, aiming at shadows and barrels of drawn guns where they could not see the exact location of their foes as they took steps towards their destination, covering each other, one step at a time. But every step Chloe and Coral took, there were peacekeepers opposite.

A bullet narrowly missed Coral, Chloe forcing her partner to the ground and covering both sides whilst Coral recovered and steadied herself. They worked together intuitively, as they had done for decades, remaining with their backs turned, tracing each other's steps, and covering for each other whenever they saw the opportunity.

As they began to reach the corner where they hoped they would be able to break free, a truck full of peacekeepers pulled up, screeching to a halt in front of the two victors. Chloe immediately released the first gifted spear from the bag she had taken from the Training Centre and launched the weapon, hitting the first peacekeeper to leave the vehicle immediately above their chest plate where protection was lacking. They fell to the floor immediately and one of their colleagues tripped over their body and was duly shot by Coral.

But there were eight peacekeepers facing Four's victors. Chloe had managed to recall the spear, a sign that Beetee's and his colleagues' inventions were working, and took aim again, disarming another peacekeeper. Coral backed up her partner with a shot to the neck as the peacekeeper tried to retrieve their weapon.

Nobody dared close in on each other. The victors' spears would be out of range and unless Chloe and Coral charged, the peacekeepers would fight from a steady distance, gradually closing in until they were able to overwhelm their opponents. Four's women were worthy opponents, however. They had trained in peacekeeper tactics themselves and previously, secretly attended training exercises with the force in District Four.

The peacekeepers were weakened. The two victors were becoming fatigued too. They were running out of ammunition, and it was difficult to maintain a fighting pace when reliant on spears. One of the peacekeepers had managed to break one of Chloe's spears before she could retrieve it and Coral moved to cover her partner as the peacekeepers took advantage of the distraction.

But they were determined, closing in on the peacekeepers and putting down half of their number before the bullets ran out and the pair drew their knives, readying themselves to get closer. Coral sent a knife flying into the arm of one of the peacekeepers but one of his allies shot her in return. A bullet then grazed Chloe as she dived to assist her partner.

Armed with traditional arena weapons versus a steady stream of ammunition and replacements, the tide turned against Coral and Chloe, a change they could feel.

"We're brilliant, Chlo, but I'm not sure how much longer we can hold out."

"As long as we can Coral, weaken them, distract them. Keep them away from the others."

"I love you, Chloe."

"I love you, Coral."

They fought until the last moment when the constant shower of bullets became too much. But they had faced dozens of peacekeepers hidden in the nearby properties and eight peacekeepers in the street before they finally fell. They had done everything they could to get beyond their predicament, and everything possible to support Four and the rebel effort for decades. Both Chloe and Coral understood the risks of both rebellion and travelling to the Capitol, and they took them willingly. Despite their status in District Four, they were a small piece in the rebel machinery and their deaths would only serve to galvanise their home and enable their forces to continue.

….

The order had been given. Immediately after the decision was taken to firebomb District Twelve into non-existence, President Snow turned on the victors. They were all to be killed without hesitation or question as to loyalty. Their own had set about the undoing of the Hunger Games and the Capitol regime, they were guilty by association, regardless of previous favour.

A group of peacekeepers headed straight to the accommodation for each individual district as soon as the instruction was given. But they found nothing of interest on District One and Two's floors. The victors had all disappeared. The same could be said across the Training Centre. Four's apartment and District Twelve's penthouse were torn apart, the peacekeepers hellbent on finding evidence of rebel collaboration or plotting. But they should have known by this point that the victors were too smart to leave evidence on display. Their floors were just as quiet as the others.

As they forced their way onto District Three's floor, the peacekeepers were certain they would find their targets. The door had been barricaded and they had to force entry. But on their arrival, they found Pluto and Max lying across the sofas, their mouths stained purple, their hearts no longer beating. The television was broadcasting the documentary hurriedly aired as their poisoned wine dripped onto the carpet, staining it with each drop that fell.

The victors had taken their own lives. They knew their physical limits and did not want to run the risk of capture during an escape. Max knew that his body had been tortured enough through decades of illness and Pluto valued his dignity and the power of making choices as freely as possible. Both men took their own way out and passed away peacefully and painlessly, in the company of the friend they so valued, before they could be found.

….

They left Sawyer's body behind and ran frantically, Linden muttering to himself over and over about the loss of his friends and Poppy calling for her partner to keep up the pace. They needed to escape. They were being hounded.

In leaving at the latest possible moment, they knew it would be dangerous, but neither victor quite expected to be caught out in this way. Chaos in the city centre was inevitable and the victors believed they would be able to use the panic to their advantage, but they realised they should never disregard the presence or fervour of the peacekeepers in chasing down a target. By now, it was clear they had orders. Linden and Poppy were the peacekeepers' primary targets.

But they kept running. By now exhausted, in shock and aching from the knocks and hurried falls they had taken. But they had been left with no choice. Liev had been killed, Sawyer had sacrificed himself and now it was up to them to do what they had set out to do. They were both victors who were determined to live above all else, and they were focused on returning to their respective homes.

It was not long before they found themselves on the defensive once again, their latest brief reprieve over before they had to take cover once more. A mistake from two of the peacekeepers led to Linden and Poppy shooting them both, taking advantage of the mistiming and reducing the number of opponents they had to face. They ran on again, emboldened by their moment of success.

But the remaining peacekeepers responded in kind and ran out in force, weapons drawn and both victors stopped in surprise. They too drew their weapons, tried to take cover, and fired at their opponents. The peacekeepers moved in closer, one step at a time as Linden and Poppy shot at them in return before moving to run for the cover of a street corner.

The peacekeepers continued and from behind the victors, another peacekeeper truck came to a screeching halt. Linden heard his name being called as the peacekeepers came in closer. He moved to cover Poppy before he felt a searing pain in his shoulder and he fell towards the floor, surprised to find a pair of arms break his fall.

Poppy looked back in horror before shooting at the peacekeepers with increased rage, spraying bullets across their formation, managing to take one of their number down.

Linden screamed as the remaining peacekeepers closed in, "Run, Poppy, run!"

The pain in his shoulder increased, intensifying towards his chest as he heard Noah's voice in his ear, "We've got you, Linden."

At their side, Maria, accompanied by Blight's friends took down the remaining peacekeepers as Poppy continued running further into the Capitol's streets, desperately vying to reach her escape.

….

The arena fell and Panem exploded. What had been simmering for months boiled over furiously. Five districts rebelled instantly. District One had the money to begin a swift overthrow of their controllers whilst District Three set their plans in motion. District Four retaliated in response to the burning of the Victors' Village, killed their Mayor and quickly took control of their home. The fighting continued in Eight, and Eleven exploded into violent revolt, using the peacekeepers' aggression against them.

District Seven was preparing, their own uprising imminent, and District Six would not be cowed by the destruction of their neighbours in District Twelve. The firebombing was the fuse for rebellion to reach District Ten too, the final push that Maria knew her home would need.

Districts Five and Nine would find their way into the war before District Two decided which way it would fall. Once the districts were united, the Capitol regime and President Snow could not win.

What ignited in the arena of the Quarter Quell was the result of decades of work from thousands of people across Panem. Some spending decades dedicated to the fight, others young and inspired by their family, friends and colleagues or perhaps provoked by the actions of teenagers in the Hunger Games. But among them were the victors. Some caught in the crossfire, others pouring petrol on the flames and some providing the matches from the very start. They all played their part, many sacrificing themselves in the process or simply following through with the path laid before them when they were made tributes once more.

At the centre of it all, sat Haymitch Abernathy, forcibly sober, in the command room in District Thirteen. He was alive. Katniss Everdeen was officially their Mockingjay, and his life has been torn apart. His home was destroyed, Peeta, alive but being tortured in the Capitol, and so many of his friends dead. He was forced to revisit the moments as President Coin replayed the Hunger Games, trying to understand his friends' motivations, trying to find a weakness to use against the victors both under her roof and in the Capitol. He was forced to watch as Brutus killed Chaff and Peeta killed Brutus. His best friend was dead, his boy falling apart and President Coin watching him, questioning. She was a problem, but she would have to be dealt with later.

He wanted to know what Mags would make of all of this. His leader, mentor, and friend, killed by the Quarter Quell. She would know what to do, how to deal with their allies, what moves to make and when. He needed to put himself into her shoes.

The war would end, and they would win, of that, Haymitch was sure. But what next? Hopefully, life in Panem would improve and all would be worthwhile. But what would become of him and his friends? Just as with the Quarter Quell, just as under Snow, their position remained precarious, and survival would have to be at the forefront of their minds. But survival is what the victors did and will always do.

He was reminded of that during a briefing from Commander Paylor of District Eight. She was asked, by President Coin no less, for a status update on key personnel in District Eight. When Paylor began to say the name of Cecelia's husband, a leader in his own right, Haymitch watched as Plutarch's eyebrows shot to the top of his head and his eyes widened. Beetee suddenly interjected with the first question he could think of and Haymitch glanced towards the screen where Paylor was shown, his eyes clear in their warning to her.

They would protect each other. They were the best defence mechanism each other had. In quiet moments with Beetee, Haymitch had managed to make contact with Halley and Poppy, although there was no doubt in his mind that they would have survived their escapes home. He knew that Cotton was still alive in Eight and that Halley had rescued Aria from the fighting in District One and that she was fighting fiercely in Three, a proud member of their rebel forces. They had withheld that information from their hosts in Thirteen and did not plan on divulging. Haymitch was not sure whether Beetee had had any conversations with Mags about their group, but they were on the same page. The victors, as many of them as possible, would survive the war.

"Stay alive," he had told them, hearing Halley and Poppy's laughter in response. But they lived by that same mantra as much as he did and were thriving in the leadership of their homes, whilst he was annoyingly sober, trying to come up with a plan to save them all.

It seemed that plan and scheme was all he would ever do. He was being used as a key strategist by District Thirteen, although he suspected that was a ploy to keep him under watch. He played chess, figurately and literally with Plutarch for years and had worked as part of the rebel network for twenty years. Now he must plot the demise of two presidents and the survival of his friends.

He would make it work. He was not their leader and was not Mags by any means but along with Beetee, he was what they had. From the beaches of District Four, where so much of their work began, to the underground networks of District Thirteen, the new centre of command, their rebellion grew and took shape, moulded by so many of the victors, taking them to the precipice of where Haymitch now stood.

There was no turning back. The war would be won, and the victors would survive. Whether caught in the crossfire, the villains of the story, a sacrifice of the rebellion or leaders in their own right, the victors had a hand in shaping Panem's future. It was only right that those who could be saved or saved themselves had the chance to see the future they helped create.

The End

….

Author's Note: Thank you so, so much to everyone who has stayed with the story and read until the end. A further thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review, message and engage with the story. I truly appreciate the ongoing support.

Fifty weeks later, the story is over. Much longer than I initially envisaged, but it took on a life of its own and I have fleshed out what has been in my head for a long while now. I love these characters and have grown to love them more as I wrote this, so I hope you have found something you have enjoyed too.

But now for a break. Writing has become an undertaking and I need a rest. I have also just started a new job and I need to take a few weeks to devote myself to my new role and routine.

I will be back, with my AU era, likely around November. The main story will be an AU version of 'Her Entire Species' from the perspective of a rebellion that never kicked off, starting with a different version of the Quarter Quell. The working title is currently, "Invincible" but that might change. Running alongside it will be a series of one-shots which cover these current victors as they live out their lives, without the rebellion.

Hopefully, some of you will join me in the new stories and once again, thank you to everyone reading!