Clover Nguyen- District Eleven male (18)

The stench was almost majestic in its repulsion. I wasn't sure Indica was going to make it. New guys often barfed on their first day. Some of the older guys had even set up a betting pool. We'd rib him if he cracked, sure, but we'd all been there. I was old enough to remember digging the hideout in the first place.

Rebels in Panem had a short lifespan. Anyone who made it past a few months was already past the most dangerous point. The Capitol had all the advantages and what did we have? We had shit. Most Peacekeepers hadn't caught onto my group yet, since we were pretty small and hadn't make any particularly bold moves yet, but even the ones who were looking for us had never looked here. Out in the backwoods of Eleven, far out in the rice fields where the Capitol couldn't be bothered to run water pipes, there were outhouses. Under those outhouses there was a cesspool. Under that cesspool there was a small but homey bunker. There, under the stench of our own compatriots, we made war.

"Word has it there's going to be some Reserve training in four days," Ba Pahoua said from her perch on the stump we'd dragged in especially for her. Our base was very sparse but none of us were willing to watch Grandmother try to sit her old bones on the ground. She was perhaps the most effective source of intelligence in our group. Peacekeepers paid no mind to a bent-over old woman shuffling past a group of them. There was nothing conspicuous about how long it took her to get past them or how she squinted at them occasionally like she hadn't noticed their uniforms and thought they might be a grandchild of hers. There was no danger speaking freely with the ear horn tucked into her breast pocket.

"Any vehicles?" I asked.

"They didn't say," Pahoua said.

"Probably," Sumac said. "Reserve forces don't get to work with that kind of equipment much. They'll want to brush up."

"How's our supply?" I turned to Tater. It never ceased to amuse me that that was actually his legal name. Some people said my name was girly but first off, there's nothing wrong with girly, and secondly, it wasn't Tater.

Tater raised a flask. "I got about twenty gallons," he said. I'd heard the other Districts thought that Eleveners must be the best-fed of the Districts, since we grew the food and all. That sadly wasn't the case. We grew the food. We didn't eat the food. The only food we had access to was the rotten fruits that escaped our notice when we were picking. After our punishment for missing it, we would gather it up to use as fertilizer. The thing about compost piles, though- they smell. Not as bad as the outhouse, but bad enough the Peacekeepers didn't like going too close. That gave us the chance to divert some of the fruit to Tater and his group, who did their weird science voodoo and turned it into moonshine. If anything the Peacekeepers covertly supported us, since they could lean on us for free moonshine. It tasted absolutely foul but maybe they mixed it with something or whatever. The important thing was that it was flammable.

"Will it melt the tires?"

Tater shrugged. "It might. If it doesn't on its own we'll find something." Moldy oranges weren't in short supply and neither was styrofoam from Peacekeeper takeout containers. If the Peacekeepers had rubber that could withstand moonshine flames, we'd just keep adding more stuff until we got through.

"How long is the training exercise?" I asked, turning back to Pahoua.

"They were complaining a lot, so I'd guess at least a few days," she said.

"What's the weather going to be like?"

Moonshine- especially with napalm added- would burn even in rain. Rain would come with the added benefit of making the Peacekeepers miserable, making the ground all muddy, and cloud coverage reducing moonlight. The Peacekeepers would be out of their element training in the woods. They'd be tired and upset and most of all, they wouldn't be expecting actual hostiles. Me and my team, however, would be on familiar territory. As long as we could get past their firewatch, which would no doubt be two bored Peacekeepers waiting for an hour to go by so they could go back to sleep, we could throw our moonshine molotovs and disappear into the foliage before they even burst. They'd be too busy putting out the fires to come after us and even the ones who did would just get lost. This wasn't their land. It was ours.

Persimmon "Persi" Calloway- District Eleven female (15)

"Can I get two scoops of echinacea?"

"Of course. Be right with you." I hefted Zapote up onto my hip and tucked the spoon I'd been feeding him with back into the mason jar of mashed mangoes. Zapote waved at the customer and then tugged at my hair with his fat little toddler hands.

The smell of bread hit my nose as I was helping the man ring up his purchase. The bread was almost done- one more thing to remember. If we got just a few more customers I might be able to buy some margarine for it.

It's Wednesday, right? The electricity bill was due on Friday. I'd been looking through our sales records checking that we had enough when Zapote startede fussing.

"Have a great day!" I called out after the customer as he left the store. As soon as he was gone I rushed into the back room. There wasn't enough room back there for six people. There really wasn't. We had five mattresses arranged alone the walls, an orange crate with blankets for Zapote, a tiny closet with a sink and toilet (and a plastic tub for bathing), and a stained old oven that honestly made me nervous. I wasn't at all confident that it wouldn't explode one of these days or gas us all in our sleep. It was on my list of things to save money for but that list was a lot longer than our money supply.

I wrapped my hand in a rag and took the bread out. Stupid, I scolded myself when I saw it was a little dark on the top. I should have been on top of that.

Ding!

The doorbell chimed before I'd even set the bread down. I hastily set it on top of the rag on the counter so it wouldn't burn through and rushed back out.

"Hi!" the woman asked as she came into the store. From her clothes I guessed she was richer than most in Eleven. "Is the storekeeper in?"

"It's me," I said, almost out of breath from all the rushing. "I'm the storekeeper."

"You? But you're what, twelve years old." The woman smiled like I was joking.

"I'm fifteen," I said.

"Oh, so industrious! Your parents must be so proud," the woman said.

"Thanks," I said. She probably wasn't wrong. If Mom was alive she'd be so proud to see we'd managed to stay together. As for Dad... Mom wasn't much of a marrying type. She wasn't even a dating type. She most certainly wasn't a birth control type. My own dad died of fever not long after I was born. I'd seen Colleen and Adobo's father around the store a few times when he came looking for money. Luckily he wasn't on the birth certificates so he didn't have any leverage. As for Pepito or Sean's fathers, sh hadn't even known their names.

"Can I help you find anything?" I asked.

"I've heard such wonderful things about these natural remedies," the woman said. "Do you have anything for ashy skin?"

"Sunflower oil helps for that," I said. "You can also use it to remove makeup."

"Ooh! Does it smell nice?" the woman asked.

The phone behind the desk rang. I ignored it. I already knew it was Thelma calling to ask about my next order. I picked a lot of my own supplies but some things were more efficient to outsource. I could call her back later.

"It has a pretty mild odor. We have essential oils too though. You could add those. They're also great for adding to the bathtub." I accompanied the woman around the store as she examined products. I perked up as she started tossing items into her basket after just an impulsive grab and quick read. This one was a hobby shopper- the type with money to burn and a curiosity about things she hadn't tried. They were the kind that kept the lights on and maybe would let me replace Sean's tattered blanket.

"Come again soon!" I called after the woman after wrapping her items and adding one of the bows I kept around for now and then. I opened the register and started calculating. We would definitely have food for the week, which wasn't usually a problem but sometimes things got tight. I could maybe add a few things to my order. There was a little to put away in our rainy-day fund, which at this point might actually get us through a rainy day.

Gotta remember to finish those tax forms, the thought nagged as I counted. Then sweep- there's some dirt by the door. Restock the nettle tinctures that are starting to look cloudy. Remind Colleen about her homework. Practice letters with Sean. Grind the flour. After all that, maybe I'd even have time to sleep tonight.