this chapter is a product of Easter break! He is risen!
Do you know what is completely outlandish? The amount of spam messages I've received in the past week asking me to pay them to draw fanart for me. I only believe one of them is real, the rest are annoying.
General blanket statement: I will not be paying someone pretending to be a fourteen year old girl from Pakistan to draw Finnick Odair. There are plenty of real fourteen-year-old girls from Pakistan who have done it just fine without getting paid.
Katniss.
My days seemed to all follow the same pattern. Completely disregarding the schedule that was printed on my arm (as always), I spent all the time I could in the hospital, watching August. A few times a day I was kicked out so that the doctors could do their job, but for the most part they all agreed that one of the best things that could be done for the premature baby was allowing me to be nearby. Unfortunately, some of the higher ups in District 13 saw this as obsessive behavior, which meant my "mentally unstable" hospital band wasn't going anywhere fast.
It was about a week and a half after August was born that Plutarch called for me again.
He immediately proposed that I go to District 8.
"Absolutely not," Peeta said quickly. I looked at him, confused. "She just gave birth, Plutarch. Her son is fighting for his life in the hospital wing. You can't seriously be asking her to risk her life again."
"It's not a risk at all," Plutarch informed us. "The fighting at District 8 is over. The rebels have full control there, and it's been like that for some time now. We have no reason to suspect that the Capitol will suddenly attack again."
"But how could you take that risk?" Peeta argued.
"I want to go," I told them.
Peeta looked at me, disappointment on his face. "Katniss, you need to be careful right now. What if something happens? August needs you."
The smug look on Plutarch's face almost made me want to agree with him. "It'll be okay, Peeta. I promise. I need to be out there." I glanced at Peeta's concerned face. Part of me wanted desperately to agree with him. August would not be an orphan. I wouldn't allow it. And if something happened in District 8, would Coin really follow up with her end of the bargain? I wasn't sure she would.
But I was going crazy, sitting around doing nothing. I knew I had to get out. I had my end of the bargain to uphold anyway. "I'm going," I told them.
The hovercraft landed in District 8 the very next day. I was sent in with Boggs, Coin's trusted colonel, as the leader of our squad. I was given a bow by Beetee, and I was surprised to find that it wasn't just a prop like I had assumed it would be. It seemed that they actually wanted me alive after all.
I was joined by a film crew, led by a woman named Cressida. She had a few tattoos and her hair was shaved on one side, but beyond that she looked normal, as did the rest of her crew. But then again, Effie looked pretty normal these days, too. Maybe they weren't always that way. My husband would have been suspicious of Cressida. The way she carried herself... I knew he would have many complaints about her. I smiled to myself, imagining what he would say when we were alone. I imagined his goofy smile as we laughed about her stiffness and arrogance... stop it.
He's not here to laugh about it, and he won't be until you go through with this.
"How do you feel?" Gale asked me. I looked over at him, the only person I was comfortable with who came with me. I still hadn't really thanked him for getting Prim out of District 12... not really. Or anyone else. Beetee had made him a new bow, too. A crossbow.
"I'm ready," I told him. He nodded. The door opened to let us out, and a woman was waiting for us.
"Katniss Odair," The woman held out her hand for me to shake. "My name is Commander Paylor. Welcome to District 8."
I shook her hand. "Thank you." I allowed a small smile at hearing her use my name so easily, unlike everyone else. Even Peeta and Prim fumbled with it, as though they didn't like the way it felt on their tongues. She led the way towards a large tent that had been set up, connected to the Justice Building. Much like District 12, there was no real hospital so they had resolved to set up this make-shift one. I entered through the tent, a curtain over the open doorway pushed to the side to let us through.
I took in the sight of the rows and rows of people. Some had small cots set up, some only had a blanket on the ground. My eyes fixed on a young man about my age. His head was shaved and covered in a patchy burn. Dark circles under his green eyes and painfully thin skeletal hands caught my attention. An image of Finnick flashed in my mind, the way I hadn't been able to tear my eyes off of his bony, shaking hands, the very same hands that held mine in the arena. The same ones that had tended to my wounds in our apartment and wrapped around my waist in his house in District 4.
"Katniss Everdeen?" A small voice called, tearing my gaze away from the poor man to focus on a boy about fourteen with dark skin that showed brilliant. "Are you fighting with us?"
"Yes," I answered, my voice weak. "Yes," I said clearer. "I'm going to fight with you."
"What happened to your baby?" A woman asked. I turned to her and bit my cheek, stopping myself before I could tell her every last detail about August Caspian. It was hard to stop myself from rambling on about him.
"My baby... he didn't make it." I told them, the lie slipping easily through my lips. The son of two Victors... even in a reformed Panem, he would be paraded in front of the cameras at every chance they got. I would not allow that. August would be kept undercover for as long as possible, I determined. Besides, what right did these people have to hear about him before my husband even knew he had been born? It was unfair to both of us.
"My condolences, Mrs. Odair," Paylor offered quietly.
I heard Cressida whispering to Castor and Pollux as I moved around the hospital tent.
We spent about an hour visiting the hospital until they got enough footage of me holding babies and comforting comrades. As we were walking back to the hovercraft, we saw the first sign of the Capital.
"Get down!" A blind force struck me from the side, slamming me into the ground under the overhead covering that the Justice Building provided. My head hit the stones, and I stared up at the sky about me, my eyes closing briefly at the impact. Three more crafts approached overhead. I pushed Gale off of me and rolled to my feet.
"Gale!" I called over the commotion of screaming people. Paylor yelled at the soldiers closest to her to take down the aircrafts. He glanced at me and nodded, knowing exactly what I was thinking. We hadn't regularly hunted together in years, but we still knew how to work together easily. I pulled an arrow from my quiver—an explosive one—and loaded my bow.
I released three in rapid succession, two hitting the aircraft on the left and a third taking out the lead. Gale's crossbow took care of the one on the right, and a second bolt hit the air where the lead would have been, had I not already blown it up.
But the explosions didn't stop there.
"No!" I cried out. We had missed one. A third aircraft swooped in from behind us.
"Move!" Gale yelled over me, grabbing my arm and tugging me away from the hospital. We couldn't shoot it down. Not while it was directly over the tent. Dread settled in my stomach as I watched something fall down... down... down...
The explosion knocked me off my feet and I was instantly back in the arena. Gale's hand in mine suddenly felt so much smaller and softer. Cameron.
I looked at her, my repaired ear touching the warm ground.
"Katniss!" She screamed. I stared at her, wide eyed. I could feel the warmth of the fire burning the hospital next to us.
The hospital.
I sat up, letting go of her hand.
"Gale!" I cried.
"Katniss," Gale repeated. "We have to go. We don't know if there will be more or-"
I stood up and retrieved my bow, walking away from him until I was out of ear shot.
I stumbled toward the flaming tent, the rubble of the building actively crumbling.
"Katniss?" I heard someone say. I turned around and the film crew was there... following me... waiting for me to provide entertainment for them.
I remembered my husband on the television, pleading for peace. For rebels and the Capitol alike to throw down their weapons. After what I just saw, I knew that wasn't possible. It would never be possible. Not as long as the Hunger Games continued and President Snow was in control, willing to shoot a man in the back while he was still down. Willing to bomb a hospital full of injured men, women, and children, some of whom were innocent.
For once, I wanted the camera on me. I wanted everyone to see what he had done. I wanted them to feel the same rage I did.
"Why would they do that?" I whispered. "Why would they target people who were already dying?"
"Scare others off," I heard Cressida say from next to her cameramen. "Prevent the wounded from seeking help. And if the Capitol wins, what will it do with a bunch of damaged slaves?"
I didn't respond.
"Katniss," she said. "President Snow just had them air the bombing live. Then he made an appearance to say that this was his way of sending a message to the rebels. What about you? Would you like to tell the rebels anything?"
"I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I'm right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women and children. There will be no survivors." I felt anger bubble in my stomach as I spat out the words. "I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you're deluding yourself." My voice softened when I remembered who I was really talking to. Not the rebels. Not the Districts. Not the Capitol. Just my love, sick and alone, wishing for peace. "You know who they are and what they do." I pointed to the devastation behind me. "This is what they do! We must fight back!"
I swallowed my tears. "I have a message for President Snow. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that?"
One of the cameras follows as I point to the planes burning up on the roof across the rocks on top of an old warehouse. "Fire is catching!" I didn't realize I was shouting. "And if we burn, you burn with us!"