Hey B,
I'm sorry it's been a while since I last wrote. I know you've been worried about me. I've been fine.
We're living underground at the edge of the district. Some old underground bunker Samson secured. I'm still surprised he didn't rat us out, but she must have promised him a nice price. Overpromised, most likely. T and I have been here for almost six months now, and it's starting to feel like a home. A cold, dark home, but at least it's safe.
The longer I'm gone, the more I wonder what remains. We don't have access to any media down here, but word of mouth from Samson when supplies are delivered. She's still holding onto hope that everything wasn't for nothing. She can't accept that it's over. That it died, that her people are dead. I think she still believes Kate is going to barge through the door with a gun and a promise. I know better.
Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, Samson hasn't been back in a while. I should check with her.
Anyway, I learned that all the old victors seem to have finally been released. Those applicable seem to be getting prepared to mentor. If the temperature tells me anything, the reaping will be among us within the next month or two. Another opportunity for innocent children, many like yourself, to be thrown into a pit against…children like her. Not a fan of that outlook.
I saw a bumblebee the other day. I don't know how it got down here. It was a big one, well-fed. I let him be. Ha, bee. I'd like to think you're still here with me.
Anyway, I'm sorry this was long. I just miss you. I think about you every day. I keep myself awake, wondering what I could have, no, should have done to keep you alive. I failed you. I'm sorry.
I should let you get to it. I miss you, B. Stay strong.
Your brother,
C
Tatiana Emery is angry.
She's angry it was all for nothing. The rebellion, the pain, the suffering. She's angry she spent her entire life for a cause that was dead in the water before it even had a chance to breathe.
And now she's a goddamn fugitive of the god damned country. A country she was once so desperate to make better. She gave her life away for a cause she believed in. Young, silly Tatiana, who had so many ideas to change the world.
What a waste of energy.
She's thankful she has Samson. She didn't know him well during the first few years of the fight, but when Kate realized things weren't looking up for their group, she introduced them. And ever since, he's been monumental in keeping Tati safe.
Tati doesn't know the details of his background, but what she does know is he's good at keeping things (and people) off the grid. He's secured them nearly a dozen safe houses to hide out in, each one more conspicuous than the last. None of them are as elegant or comfortable to what she's used to, but she couldn't care less.
She has her life. And that's more than a lot of others can say.
Where she is now, hiding out in a forgotten bomb shelter built during the dark days, Tati has finally been able to breathe. But that doesn't mean she can relax, throw her feet up and drink beer until the end of her days. No, if anything, the work is just beginning.
Thanks to Samson, Tati is very aware of what's transpired since Kate and the Order broke her and Conrad Martell out of the arena of the 95th Hunger Games. She knows the Capitol sprung into action, bringing every living mentor into the Capitol for various methods of questioning.
(She can't help but wonder how they were able to intervene so quickly.)
Samson shared gruesome details from those years of interrogations. She had to learn quickly how to repress her feelings of guilt, black out the faces of those who were taken to let herself sleep at night. Once she realized none of his updates were positive, she stopped asking for them. She concluded ignorance was bliss in this case.
But the one person she can't get a status update on, no matter how hard she tries, is her leader: Kate Wakai. She's been MIA for over ten years now, and every day Tati's hopes diminish.
(She can't believe she held onto hope for so long. How could she be so foolish?)
She doesn't feel like she has a lot of prospects left. If the Capitol ever got their hands on her they would crush the life out of her as slowly as possible.
Tatiana is no coward. She's never feared death. But she's also not stupid. If the Capitol, if President Pitheart got his hands on her, death would certainly never come. For every year of trouble she's caused him, she's guaranteed quadruple the amount of revenge. And she does not want to provide that satisfaction.
Tati is well aware of small pills that will take her out of this world quickly and painlessly. She considers having Samson secure the backup method for her.
The hard part is, Tati doesn't know what she wants to do. She has no arms, no fired-up rebels supporting her - hell, she doesn't even think Conrad is supporting her anymore. Not that she could say he ever really was.
He was just lost. Just like you.
She thinks about Darrah frequently. Tati never interacted with Darrah, not that she can remember at least. And yet the girl was deemed Victor of their Hunger Games. Of Tati's games. She couldn't even do that right.
A twelve-year-old child won. And I lost. I lose every damn day.
Tati knows one thing for certain. She needs to do something. Wasting away underneath the earth is not what Kate would want her to do. She could be out there waiting for Tati to make a move. Maybe she's building up a new resistance. Quieter, slower, under the radar. Maybe it will all work out in the end. Maybe-
A rumble in her stomach snaps her back into reality. She stands up from her poor excuse for a mattress and does a lap around the room to stretch out her legs. After some time, she leaves the small disgrace for a bedroom and walked into the dull living room. She knows checking the cabinets is fruitless, but she does it anyway.
When was the last time we received supplies? Tatiana genuinely can't remember. Samson comes sparingly, but he's never let them go without food or water for a sustained period. And Tati hasn't eaten in two days.
"Conrad."
Tati's voice echoes through the cold stone that surrounds the bunker. Walking over to the room that sits across from her own, she knocks. Her stomach rumbles again.
"Conrad," she says louder. She can hear him start to stir.
"What?" She can tell he just woke up.
"We're out of food."
She can hear him sigh through the door. "And?" His voice cracks, and Tati can hear him fall back on his mattress.
Tati pushes the door in."We can't sit around and do nothing, Conrad. We'll starve." She crosses her arms, in disbelief at the fact he's acting like a child.
"What do you suggest we do?" He pushes himself up into a seated position, his blonde hair in a scruffy mess.
He barely looks at her as he does.
"How about you stop laying there and we figure it out."
"Then get out and give me a minute."
She obliges, making sure to slam the door as she leaves. God, she can't remember the last time she was this angry. Hunger is a cruel punishment - one they shouldn't be having to deal with. Coupled with a piercing headache, Tati can't catch a damn break.
Where the hell is Samson?
She paces in the living room as he slowly gets ready. When he comes out, he yawns, as if to rub it in her face. He takes a seat on the single wooden chair that rests against the edge of the wall.
Conrad's exhausted, Tati can tell. She's exhausted too. But she will never stop fighting.
"Okay. What's the problem?"
She stops pacing, but keeps her arms crossed. "Like I said. We have no food. And I don't know why Samson hasn't brought us any recently."
"And you propose we do what, exactly?"
"We need to figure out where Samson is. If he's been taken in, or killed, we're not safe here."
He's quiet for a while. Maybe she's gotten through.
"I don't suppose you think it's a good idea for us to go out there searching for him, do you?" he asks suspiciously.
"No. I don't think we both can leave. But I think it needs to be one of us."
Her words seem to hit Conrad like a freight train. He stands up from the chair, coming face to face with Tatiana.
"You want me to go out there."
"It's either that or starve to death," she tries to reason, but he's not hearing it.
"They're going to kill me in an instant if they see me. How the hell am I going to find him anyway? Knock on every door, asking for a Samson? You think that'll turn out well for me, do you?"
Tati places a hand on his shoulder. "They don't know what you look like. Keep your head down, and be smart. You've done worse."
He's silent for a while. He takes a step back to lean against the wall, avoiding eye contact with Tatiana.
She knows that he knows that she's right.
"Fine." He pushes past her towards the single exit the bunker has.
As he takes a jacket and moves to leave, Tati tries to say something. Something to thank him, or to reassure him. But no words form. Instead, she just stands there silently as he leaves her alone in the bunker.
And all she can do is hope it doesn't stay like that for long.
Conrad Martell wants to be anywhere else.
Ever since he was reaped almost fifteen years ago, it's been a never-ending nightmare. A nightmare that shifts in intensity. A nightmare he would do anything to wake up from.
When he thinks about who he was before the reaping, it almost feels like he's looking at a completely different person. A careless racer living each day to the fullest. When he was reaped, all he wanted was to keep his head down and survive. Then, he met Beckett. The little boy from District Three who he allied with without a second thought. If he knew then that allying with Beckett would lead to him taking him under his wing as his own brother, he still wouldn't change a thing.
All he would change is keeping Beckett alive at his own expense.
He would take out the evil Career from District Four way sooner. He would never leave Beckett's side, no matter what. He wouldn't have left Beckett alone, to be murdered in cold blood by that Career. He would…he would…
He has to push all these thoughts out of head. Focus on the present, Conrad.
He climbs the metal ladder that leads out of the bunker and pushes up the wooden plank that obscures the hole in the ground from any passersby. The rising sun momentarily blinds him; the warmth spreads through his skin, refreshing him. What he would give to be able to live back out here.
He doesn't understand Tati's play. She'd send him out on a rash suicide mission while hiding behind closed doors. After all they've done together, after all they've been through, he would think she would be smarter than that. There's a reason they've moved hideouts so many times, a reason they have an unassuming hand on the outside: to keep them as safe as possible.
This doesn't feel very safe.
Conrad takes a deep breath in, allowing himself to get lost in his own head for just a moment. He finds himself thinking about Beckett again. He thinks about the life Beckett could be living if he was the one who survived instead of Conrad.
That was Conrad's goal, after all - to get Beckett out alive. And he can't stop thinking about how miserable he's been since he failed.
His eyes dodge away from Nadia's body, lying against the floor. He moves through the hallway, into the main room.
There he is…clutching an open wound with his tiny hands and groaning in pain…
"Beckett!"
He snaps back to the present, escaping the moment as soon as it started. But for the better, as any memory of Beckett ends in a nightmare. If it goes on for too long, he'll see him die in his arms. He'll see the face of Beckett's murderer as clear as day.
And the rage, oh the rage. He doesn't ever want to feel that again.
Back to the task at hand. Supplies. Samson. Don't get caught. Easy enough. Conrad covers his head with the hood and starts the walk towards the district.
Based on Samson's limited information he can only assume this is the outskirts of District Five. From this distance, he can just barely make out the roof of the furthest house in Victor's Village. Unless he's mistaken, only two of those houses are filled.
Wanting nothing more than to ensure that his stay outside is short, he pushes towards Victor's Village. He tries to come up with some sort of plan, something to reduce the chances of his capture. But the closer he gets to the houses, the harder it gets to think of something.
His only saving grace is that most people should still be asleep. He has no idea what day of the week it is, but hopefully, those who would work an early shift are already there, and everyone else has no reason to be awake yet.
So when he gets to the perimeter of Victor's Village, and he hears a door slam open, he nearly has a heart attack. Quickly, he moves to hide from whoever this new person could be. Pressing himself against the side of one of the houses, he holds in his breathing.
Stay quiet…
Whoever it is appears to be intoxicated. The footsteps are dragging, and the voice is mumbling something incoherent. At some point Conrad thinks he hears the individual fall, or at the very least trip.
"Where's the serviceman…" the voice slurs, stumbling down the road. Conrad stays still, yet the person just keeps getting closer.
"Hey! Areyou here…to fix…mytoilet?" The man's drunken voice makes Conrad's heart do backflips. With nowhere to turn, he faces the man.
Conrad doesn't get out much, but there's not a lot of Victors living in District Five. He recognizes Aleida Edevane immediately. He's gripping a bottle of whisky in one hand, wearing a crumpled-up white t-shirt and gray sweatpants with holes decorating the bottom. "You have me mistaken-" Conrad begins.
"My toilet's leaking, comeon." Aleida reaches out to grab Conrad by the wrist, but Conrad pulls back.
At once, Conrad notices a few things. First: Aleida's eyes start to squint, as if the few functioning parts of his brain are slamming together. Second: a pair of Peacekeepers in the distance, getting closer to Victor's Village with each step.
Shit shit shit I have to go where can I go I'm trapped I'm going to get arrested I'm going to die-
"What are you…doing…" Aleida starts, but stops himself. Conrad's wide eyes and heavy breathing speak more than his words could. A quick glance over Aleida's shoulder, and he can see the source of the panic.
"Please," Conrad whispers. In a swift second, Aleida shoves Conrad back.
"Hide. I'll deal with them." Aleida leaves Conrad behind the building and starts walking towards the Peacekeepers.
"Hey! Where's the plumber?" Aleida's voice reverts to a drunken slur, yet assertive all the same.
"Sir, you're intoxicated, you need to-" one of the Peacekeepers begins before Aledia interrupts him again.
"No, you need to get the guy out here to fix my toilet. It's been broken since last night. Unless you're here to fix it." Aleida's voice scares Conrad, and he's not even the one being yelled at.
"Go home. Don't make us make you." The second Peacekeeper is more direct than the first. But that doesn't stop him.
"Go back to the District, and don't come back until you're here to help." Aledia's footsteps indicate he's backing up. After a few seconds, Conrad can hear more footsteps, most likely those of the Peacekeepers, disappearing into the distance. Once they're gone, Conrad waits.
"Come on." Aleida comes to the side of the building, and Conrad follows him around to the house Aleida initially exited from. He waits for Aleida to open the door, then pushes them both inside and locks the door behind him. For a moment, he's able to slow his breathing, slow the shaking that has started in his hands.
"Conrad Martell," Aleida's voice sounds like the man has never had a taste of alcohol in his life. The switch is instant, just like it was outside.
"Please. I need help." These are the only words Conrad can manage. Time seems to slow as Aleida checks him out. Conrad can't imagine the thoughts rushing through Aleida's mind. Conrad's hollow face, weakened muscles, dirt encrusted in his skin. How pathetic must he look.
"Come on. We can talk." If it were anyone else, those words would leave Conrad with a certain level of doubt. Over the last decade and a half, he's never been able to trust anyone. But he's hungry, he's tired, and he's just straight up afraid. So he follows Aleida, and all he can do is hope for good intentions.
And with that, the prologues are done! Huge thank you to goldie031, rising-balloons, ladyqueerfoot, and District11-Olive for beta'ing you're all beautiful people.
It also means that the cast list is officially locked in and you can see the list on my profile along with a link to the blog. Thank you to every single person who submitted, I loved every single kid I received and am really looking forward to this cast as we get into intros. Speaking of intros, here's the intro groupings and order:
1: Exa, Owain, Astel
2: Tamin, Roman, Reagan
3: Ronan, Caliadne, Eleanora
4: Mishra, Davidson, Oswaldo
Interlude Chapter/Subplot Chapter
5: Vetiver, Chaffinch, Moriko
6: Aizen, Becca, Hem
7: Klara, Dahlia, Bazooka
8: Choux, Amatus, Valerian
See you next chapter for our first set of intros!