Chapter 14- Silver Bellcreek
Aldera coughs in the darkness, but nobody else wakes up to hear it. Or if they are awake, they don't say anything or make any movement. Beside me, Beade breathes steadily, deep in sleep and distant from me. I feel distant from everyone tonight, actually.
I think I might be starting to lose my mind. Shapes and figures slide along in the dark, just out of sight, and when I move my eyes to look at them, they vanish, only to be replaced by another person or a set of swirls, dancing out of reach. One of them always seems to look like Flaire, her red hair flashing and contrasting against the black night.
I wonder what she'd say if she saw me now, lying amongst people I hardly know, wet, hungry, and if I'm going to be honest, scared. I shouted at Oak today, but I'm starting to not believe my own words. The Capitol has to care for us, haven't they? That's what my family has always said. But the way they're treating us now makes me think they don't care at all.
What would Flaire say?
"You've looked better, haven't you?" That's what she'd say. And she'd smile and hug me anyway, because she's my best friend, and then we'd laugh about it and go find some flowers to pick or some adventure to be had. For a second I can see her, flitting at the corner of my eye, and then she's gone again, red hair into black.
The darkness presses down on me, like a large, smothering blanket. The rain stopped, but I can still smell the damp wood and feel my wet clothes and the slippery floor. Without really meaning to, my eyes go towards the corner where, earlier, Willow had a candle. I need light, I need air!
I can't stand being in this crate a moment longer; I need to breathe some fresh air. Beade has her arm on my leg; I push it off as gently as I can. She stirs, but doesn't wake up, thankfully. I don't want to talk to anyone right now.
The train's gentle swaying threatens to knock me off my feet, but I keep one hand on the wall to steady myself. The roof is high above me, but I can see through the slats; there, far away, are the only lights I can see in this place. Stars.
"Who's up?" someone whispers through the dark.
"Silver," I whisper back, keeping my eyes fixed on the faraway stars.
"Oh." I can hear the disappointment in her voice, and it's then that I place her as Oak. I don't have the energy to hate her tonight.
"Sorry to disappoint you," I say, still quietly.
Something fabric rustles; probably her quilt, and Oak stands up. Her shoes make a hollow thudding noise on the ground. "Why do you hate me?" I whisper.
Oak breathes out for a long time, and doesn't answer. "You're a bit of an idiot, honestly," she finally says.
"Excuse me?"
"You go on worshipping the Capitol blindly, and you don't even realize what they've done, and what they're doing," she says.
"They're sending us to our deaths, that's what they're doing," I say without thinking.
Real people are going to die. That's what my mother said the day of the reaping. It seems like years ago that I woke up in my house with my family, eons ago that I volunteered for Flaire in the town square.
"Well you've worked out that much," Oak says. "Have you worked out that they don't care whether you're loyalist or rebel yet? We're all district, so we're all to blame, to them at least."
"Yeah, I know that," I say. "Tulsee said we're all collateral damage."
"Maybe you're not an idiot after all," Oak says, her voice betraying a smile.
"I'm not. I volunteered to be here to save my best friend. I wouldn't have come otherwise." Oh, but I wanted to, I think.
"Why do you support the Capitol the way you do?"
I pause. Why do I? "My family supported them in the war," I finally say.
"I didn't ask about your family; I asked about you," Oak says.
"Why were you a rebel?" I shoot back.
"I believed the world could be changed for the better. And the better would be if the Capitol wasn't in control."
"And because your mom was a rebel, right? She was, wasn't she?"
"Yeah. She was," Oak says. "But that's not the reason why I joined the rebellion. So why do you support the Capitol?"
"They said they would always take care of us," I say. "And they did; I was happy; nothing bad happened until the war started. And what you rebels did to my district was worse than anything the Capitol ever did."
"That's because you're their lapdogs!" Oak says, her voice rising. "You're their lapdogs, and of course they took care of you! They didn't do that to us in the other districts. They destroyed 13 altogether. And don't you dare tell me that they're looking out for you now; you're on a cargo train that's taking you to die. In the end, you're the same as the rest of us."
"That's not true!" I say. Out of the corner of my eye I see another shape that looks strikingly similar to Glass Coramund, the girl who was my friend but supported the rebellion; who told me the day we submitted our names that I lost the war too but just didn't know it.
"What's not true? That you're on a train or that you're the same as the rest of us?"
"They were right; they have to be right," I say, my fingers gripping the rough wooden walls tighter. "If you hadn't stepped out of line then we wouldn't be here. It's- it's because of you."
"I was right the first time; you're an idiot," Oak says, and she stomps her way back to her spot. I hear her sit down, and she doesn't say anything else to me. Fine, that's just fine. I'm not an idiot, I'm not! Just because I believe that the Capitol is doing good doesn't mean that I'm an idiot. They have to be good; they have to be. They have to be.
Somewhere out there, through the dark and the distance, my family lies asleep. Are they thinking of me? Are they worried about me; do they wish I didn't volunteer? If I hadn't volunteered, Flaire would be here, and more terrified than I am. And besides, I would be stuck at home with the unknowing, and I think that would be more unbearable than being here on the train. I'd rather it be me who's sitting here, having the adventure. And, ultimately, that's what this is: an adventure.
I'm going to get to the Capitol, I'm going to win the Hunger Games, however you do that, and then I'm going to go home, and everything is going to be the same as it was before. I'll bet this is just a one year thing, and life will go back to the way it was before the war started; Shine, Flaire, and I will go to school, and I'll have my name down in history. I can't lose, can I?
In the meantime, I'm just going to have to get through the last few days before we reach the Capitol. Tulsee's probably lying that we're going to have to kill each other. The Capitol wouldn't do that, come to think of it. That's something the rebels would do. Isn't it?
Somehow, Oak, Tulsee, and Birches don't seem the type to pit kids against each other to fight. They're just a handful of rebels, though; there're others who would be happy to do it, I'm sure. But the Capitol can't be sending us to die; it must be a lie.
"You could be wrong, you know," someone whispers hoarsely in the dark.
"Wrong about what?" I whisper back.
"The Capitol. I know that you know deep down that they're the villains here. Not the rebels."
"Why would I think that, Volt?" I ask, recognizing the voice now.
"Think about it, if you can," he says, his tone verging on sarcastic. "Why would the people of Panem rebel if there was a decent government in place? If you ever paid attention in history, the governments that were fair, that used democracy, were the ones that lasted. Why would anyone rebel against a system that let them have a say?"
"We have a say, don't we?"
"Again, think about it. Did you have a choice in who runs the country? Would you have been able to see the Capitol if you weren't taken captive? If you weren't a tribute, would you be able to meet people from other districts?"
I don't say anything.
"And if the Capitol was 'all merciful' like you say it is, would you even be a tribute?"
"Just shut up," I say, sitting back down on the damp ground and feeling the water seep back into my dress; my beautiful dress that Mum gave me. It'll be absolutely destroyed by the time I get to the Capitol and go back home again.
I don't want to think about what Volt just said, whether he's right and I'm wrong, and if the world really is as topsy turvy as he says. Mum and Father always said it was the rebels that were to blame, and I really want to keep believing them right now.
The train starts to slow down and I slide a little to the side with its momentum, pushing against Beade by accident. She mumbles something in her sleep, but doesn't wake up. So we're stopping again; I don't think we have many more stops to make now. Maybe three?
Aldera coughs and gasps for breath; she's really sick. Nobody seems to want to do anything for her; we just all leave her alone. I want to help her, but I don't want to get sick either.
"What's going on?" Buck says, making me jump. He's the only one in here that I'm really scared of, what with his violent entrance and all.
"We're stopping," Glow says, noisily sitting up next to me.
"Don't you go running again," Willow says from the far corner of the train. A match strikes and the candle glows again, lighting up Willow's dark face.
"Shut it, I'll run if I want to," Buck says, and I can just make out his outline sitting in front of the door. Someone's cuffs scrape along the floor, making shivers go up and down my spine.
"Buck," Willow starts, but Buck cuts her off.
"I said shut it!"
In the dim light I can see Aldera, still coughing, edging away from Buck, and Keek and Volt as well. Buck's dangerous, and none of us wants to be on his bad side.
"I say we might as well make a break for it while the door's open," Birches says. "If we all rush the door, we'll have a chance."
"And then what?" Oak says. "Better to get out when they're not expecting us to, while the train is going. Then they can't catch us. If we run past them now, they're bound to look for us and bring us back."
"I'm with Oak," Tulsee says simply. And I'm not with any of you! I wouldn't run for anything in the world. I want to have fresh air and light, but I'm going to wait it out until the end of the road. If I got off now, I'd never get home, and that's the goal in all this. Going home again. I wish I never left.
"If you're going to be cowards, I'll go alone," Buck says, standing up and making the boxcar shake.
"And ruin it for the rest of us? Just sit down you idiot," Oak says.
"I'll kill you if you don't shut it," Buck says; Beade's woken up and she squeezes closer to me.
"I'd like to see you try," Oak says. The tension in the room is so thick I can almost see it, dancing alongside Flaire's imaginary red hair that keeps disappearing around non-existent corners. And then, just as I think Buck's going to actually try something against Oak, the door flies open and the tension breaks. Willow blows out her candle in the same moment.
"Stay where you are; if you make a move, I will shoot," a woman says outside. Obviously they got the word about Buck and are ready to kill him too.
"Just sit down!" Willow says, and for once, Buck listens, but reluctantly.
"Get them in; I don't want trouble like 11 had," the same woman says. Two kids, and I can tell they really are little more than kids, are pushed into the boxcar and sprawl on the damp floor. One of them, the girl, stands back up and faces the door and the Peacekeepers outside.
"I'll be back, you'll see!" she says, and she says it with such confidence that I believe her for a second. She's short and sturdy, from her outline, unlike the skinny boy who's still sitting on the floor. "I'll be back!"
"Sure you will," the woman Peacekeeper says, and slams the door shut, leaving us in total darkness again.
The lock rattles on the outside of the door and, almost as soon as it's clicked shut, the train starts up again. Willow strikes another match and the candle gives off enough flickering light to see the newcomers.
"Who are you?" the girl says, turning to face the rest of us. "I'm Osa Bellock."
"Nobody cares!" Jet says, speaking up for the first time since he got on the train.
"Well I do," Osa says matter-of-factly. "I'm Osa, and this is Cinder. We're from 10."
"Did you bring any food?" Beade asks. She's already eaten her way through the share of food she got from the bag earlier.
"I'm not telling," Osa says.
"Shut up and shove off," Buck growls at her. Cinder takes his words to heart, scrambling to his feet and slipping his way over to the unoccupied wall near my group. Osa stays where she is, staring down at Buck.
"I think your bark is worse than your bite," she says. Buck stays still, his cuffed hands wrapped around one knee, just looking up at the girl. She's properly pretty, with dark skin and black hair that's been pinned up messily; I'm impressed at how unafraid she is of Buck.
That lasts until he rears up and punches the girl across the face, sending her sprawling across the floor; the rest of us jump to our feet as one just as Buck reaches Osa and picks her up off the floor by her throat.
"Get the hell off of her!" Flick says, tripping over the water bucket on his way over and spilling the last few precious inches all across the floor. Buck slams Osa against the wall of the train, narrowly missing Aldar, who's on his feet too and attempting to pull Buck off of the girl.
"Leave her alone!" Cass screams.
"Buck! Stop it!" Willow chimes in, but he doesn't listen, just slams Osa against the wall again. Glow and Flick reach him and start to pull him off of Osa, with Aldar's help. Keek's crying again and so is Aldera; next to me Beade is as tense as a taut wire.
Buck drops Osa and turns his attention to the three boys; she lands in a heap on the floor, coughing and rubbing her throat.
"What the hell is your problem?" Oak says. "Why can't you wait to start accosting us until we reach the Capitol?"
"You shut the hell up, girl," Buck says, rounding on her and pointing his finger at her. "I'm here to win this thing, and you don't get to tell me how to do it."
"I'm looking at coming out alive, and I don't care what you do when we get to the Capitol," Oak continues. "Osa's done nothing to you yet; leave her alone."
"Just calm down," Glow says. Cass, who's been on her feet this whole time, darts across the room, slipping behind the four boys and skids to a stop next to Osa, who's still coughing. She says something quiet to her, then helps her off the floor.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buck says, grabbing Cass by the hair. She cries out and tries to pull away from him, but he just grips her tighter.
"Buck! Let her go," Willow says.
"Since when have I listened to you?" Buck says, clearly to Willow but he keeps his eyes on Cass. Aldar and Glow together pry Buck's hands off of Cass's hair; she grabs Osa and the two of them run back to where Willow sits, still holding the candle in both her hands.
"You don't want to be on Buck's bad side, girl," Buck calls after Cass. I expect him to attack Glow and Aldar next, but after a few tension filled moments he backs down and sits back in front of the door. Beade relaxes slightly next to me; I find her hand and grip it tightly.
Suddenly, it's as though things become clear in my head, like I'm seeing a pattern I didn't truly see before. And I don't know if I'm actually an idiot for not fully realizing it before, even though I've heard everyone say it over and over, or maybe I don't want to believe it, or didn't, anyway.
It's not the rebels who are doing this. It's the Capitol. The Capitol is pitting us against each other; they want us to fight. They want us to kill each other. Collateral damage, that's what we all are, just collateral damage in the attempt to break the districts. It's not the rebels' fault, is it? It's the Capitol.
And I chose to follow them to my death.
While my world view snaps and lands in pieces around me, the boxcar is full of mutterings that can barely be heard above the rattling of the train. We're just pawns in the war against the districts; the Capitol never was going to help us, was it? Everything's been a lie, and maybe I understood some things, and reason's been coming on for a while, but my fellow tributes told me the truth and I didn't listen. Didn't want to listen.
Everything's been a lie, one that I believed whole heartedly.
"Your hair!" Oak says, suddenly and loudly. "Osa, your hair!"
"What about it?" Osa says, one hand to her hair. I can see her half in shadow, her cheeks wet with silent tears.
"You have hair pins in your hair," Oak says, and she sounds more excited than I've ever heard her be.
"So?"
"I know how we're going to get out of here," Oak says, and a smile spreads across her face. "Give me a pin."