Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games
PART 3
"THE FIGHTER"
Blaine's POV
My name is Blaine Maysilee Abernathy. Six years ago, I was reaped from District 12 and forced by the Capitol to be a Tribute for the 69th annual Hunger Games. Out of the twenty-four tributes, I came out alive as victor. However, I was forced into a secret unit by the President of Panem in conspiracy while being a mentor for the Games with my father, Haymitch Abernathy.
The Profit Circle destroyed my identity and threatened the people I loved. One year ago, I mentored the Girl on Fire, who defied the rules in order to save her tribute partner and create a scandal for the Star-Crossed Lovers. President Snow used me to betray my friends by becoming a spy to convince Panem of the love between Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. However, during my time on Operation Catching Fire, I fell in love with District 12's stylist, Cinna- who was an insurgent in a secret covert unit called Jabberjays that the Capitol didn't know about.
During the Third Quarter Quells, I was arrested and tortured along with Cinna for information until the Rebels infiltrated the arena, saving as many tributes as they could, only to betray their allies while the Insurgents rescued Cinna and me. We escaped and have been declared dead to the public ever since. I was one of the few victors to get out. I'm going to make sure I'm not the last.
With the Insurgents' help, we will take the Capitol down before the rebels make the final invasion!
.o0o.
I finished writing the first entry of my journal. Lyme insisted I continue to write my journals, so when Cleo got me a leather-bound book, I took the opportunity to write the first page. It has been a month since I was at the Nest, and a lot is happening in my mind. Staring at the digital clock, I decided it was time to get breakfast.
Damn it! I grabbed my head from another migraine as I collapsed onto my knees. I closed my eye to prevent the illusion of fear from consuming me. When Damon and President Snow try to force Cinna to confess any information about the rebels, they inject several serum dosages that simulate my deepest fears. It has been a month, and nearly every day, I can't sleep or breathe without nightmares. The sounds of screams bellowed in my ears, but I refused to open my eye to see the figment of my imagination.
"Blaine," Miya called out, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "It's not real!"
"I know," I whimpered, still keeping my eye closed.
Miya is the youngest victor alive through the Victors' Purge. The Victors' Purge is an assemblage of arrest, interrogation, and execution of previous Hunger Games victors, orchestrated by Panem's Government after the Third Quarter Quell ended unexpectedly with the rebels' invasion. The rebels managed to rescue Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair, and Beetee Latier. However, not many were fortunate. The Capitol was able to capture Peeta Mellark, Johanna Mason, and Enobaria Ripper, along with other victors.
Some victors were saved by another organization, a middle ground that wanted to end the Capitol's power but not end it through mass destruction. This group was called Jabberjays, and they rescued a handful of victors willing to serve the cause of reason. However, our friends are not so lucky through the Victors' Purge.
After five minutes of suffering through another episode, the screaming stopped. I sighed slowly, opening my eye to see Miya concerned. The Victors' Purge wasn't the only problem. Before the rebels attacked the arena, I was arrested by President Snow and taken to interrogation not for treason but for torture against Cinna. Cinna did the unthinkable during the interview that sent Panem outraged in turning the Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen, into the symbol of Rebellion, the Mockingjay.
His action triggered a theory of being a rebel for District 13 when he was an insurgent for the Jabberjays. Although Cinna wouldn't betray his comrades, thinking he would be executed instead of arrested. Little did he consider that President Snow makes sure all traitors suffer, and that was forcing Cinna to watch me being tortured by Damon until he snapped. I went through hell of being electrocuted, waterboarded, flogged, and had my left eye gouged out. But the worst part wasn't only that. Damon injected a serum that created a simulation of fear through both the conscious and subconscious mind.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I sighed, "For now."
"Do you want me to get you something to drink?" she asked again.
"Miya, every time I drink something, I'm drinking sleep syrup," I told her.
She frowned, slightly ashamed. The Jabberjays had been adding sleep syrup into my drinks every now and then to help me through my recovery. Only it makes things worse when consuming it, for it increases the nightmares instead of sleep.
"Oh, okay," she mumbled, sitting back on her bed petting Shiloh's head.
It was early morning, and life seemed complicated for both of us. Miya lost her parents when she disappeared, thanks to Simon for saving her and Acre. I took responsibility as Miya's guardian until further notice during this war, though lately, she's been taking care of me through my mental conflict. I wasn't insane, though, on the borderline of being labeled mad if it weren't for Dr. Caduceus, Cinna, and Xavier Varick putting me through therapy and testing. There had to be a cure or an anti-serum for the simulation in my head? It doesn't matter; I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe…
"Do you want to get some breakfast?" I offered, standing up to change.
"Sure," she said with a small smile.
The Nest, as we called the Jabberjay headquarters, was utterly different from the Capitol. Here, there are no Avoxes to serve you. You serve yourself. However, we ate from a small cafeteria with a loyal chef. Food wasn't extravagant or culinary cuisine. In fact, the chef here focuses on the healthy side, ensuring each agent follows a specific diet until necessary to have a decorative meal. Nothing is overly sweet or rich, just right in blends of taste and nutrition. Although I had to be cautious around the soups and beverages since everyone is dosing sleep syrup to a point, I'm considering protesting by fasting.
"I'll see you at lunch?" Miya asked, standing up.
"See ya," I said, waving the cowgirl off.
The Jabberjays have been very competitive with the rebels on soldiers over the past few weeks. Here, soldiers weren't the proper definition; they preferred agents when they were out in the field. And that doesn't mean everybody is on witness protection living the highlife of sanctuary. Everybody is designated to a specific branch of training or work placement. For example, Hacker is the primary tech expert on computers, hacking into the Capitol mainframe.
On the other hand, Miya is training in communication skills, while Acre is participating in fieldwork and combat training with Cleo and Jason. Although Lyme had returned to District 2, in organizing the rebels, they had to be reasonable instead of ruthless like the rebels have demonstrated. I, however, am still in recovery and intelligence on the Profit Circle.
However, Xavier Varick and Simon were surprised by the conspiracy and scandals the Profit Circle committed by using Victors to gather information and manipulate clients for funding. Now they know why Finnick seemed to be a dream come true when he only wants secrets for sex. Followed by Finnick being my Keeper.
They were confused until I explained that Finnick and I had made a pack and would use the secrets given if anything happened to us. Finnick knew all my clients' secrets, and I know his. Varick wanted me to tell him, yet I refused. I have to keep my word that only death can reveal it. However, I did start writing things down, so if anything happens to me and Finnick, the information is there. I keep the journal hidden. Not even Miya knows where it is kept.
I sighed, drinking my juice, when Cinna sat beside me with a newspaper.
"Take a look at this," Cinna murmured, handing over the Capitol News. As I read the paper, Cinna continued, "The Capitol announced us dead and that the rebels have kidnapped or are murdering other victors."
"You're joking," I grumbled, reading my name to be in the crossfire of a terrorist explosion at one of the peacekeeper departments. The reason for me being there was for protection. However, Cinna was mentioned as a traitor. I clench my fist, wondering how torture is considered protection. "Well, I guess we can have a clean slate."
Cinna shakes his head, "Not quite. Xavier is considering that you make an appearance, showing that their Government is inaccurate."
"I don't think I'll be able to face the public," I murmured sadly, nodding my hair down to cover my left eye patch.
"Blaine, we are still looking for a donor, and Hacker is making a-"
"Cinna, just stop," I interrupted. "I appreciate the support, but it's pointless. Nobody in the Capitol is an organ donor or qualifies to be one. And even if there is a chance, I don't think I could live with somebody else's eye."
The stylist sighed, though a slight hint of approval could be heard. Unlike everybody who is optimistic about my need for sight, Cinna disagrees with it. People from the Capitol think imperfections should be removed through plastic surgery, dyes, and accessories. However, Cinna believes imperfection tells us who we are. Although he recommended that I undergo a Remake in order to heal faster, he doesn't show disgust or apprehension when looking me in the eye.
His damaged hand took my own. He traces over the electrical scars that danced along my wrist up to my forearm. Dr. Caduceus has set up another Remake to remove the scars. However, each experience of Remake leaves a mental side effect. Let alone being put under and dealing with the nightmares. So, I live with the reminder on my skin.
I glance at Cinna's hand, followed by his interrogation scars. Damon enjoyed seeing people suffer through the most painful experience from their most valuable body parts. Capitol traitors were mutilated; they knew information that could put the Capitol in a frenzy, so their tongues were removed. Cinna's case was his hands, which were tools for creating beautiful art in fashion. Therefore, Damon broke his right hand and cut his fingers on both hands. His right ring and pinky fingers' distal phalange were cut off while his left hand was worse; his ring finger and pinky were gone. He kept his left hand in bandages. He, too, refused artificial digits for his left hand, though sometimes I wonder if he has difficulty in his work.
"How are you feeling?" he suddenly asked.
"Tired," I breathed, taking another sip of juice.
"Another nightmare or simulation?" he asked again, worried.
"Both," I answered.
Nothing was said after that. There was nothing to be said or done with the fear simulation serum running inside my head, activating on who knows what trigger. Dr. Caduceus believes the serum will leave my system in due time, but it's hard to believe and set hopes on. Suddenly, Cinna traced his hand through my oily ponytail, and I stiffened.
"Blaine," Cinna sighed again, shaking his head.
"Shut up, okay." I almost snapped.
Add Aquaphobia to my bucket of fears, as the doctors put it. How the fear simulations hold snakes, blood, past kills, and things my subconscious mind announced. Though I'm not afraid of water, I just can't stand the feeling of something wet on my face. Every time I take a bath or shower, flashbacks of Damon waterboarding me pop out of nowhere, and my body shuts down or shakes violently, I scream or cry, and I end up hallucinating blood coming out of the faucet. So, to stay clean, I usually get a washcloth and wipe myself, though my hair now suffers the disgusting weight of oil.
"It's been a month," he noted. "Sometimes I worry if you'll be alright."
"I'm fine…" I breathed, resting my head on my arms. "It takes time."
"I know, I know," as he patted my back.
"Can we change the subject?"
"Hacker has been trying to contact Beetee or anybody in District 13." He announced.
I shot up, looking at him with a hopeful expression. I hadn't seen Haymitch for three weeks and had to rely on Xavier's words to determine if my father was safe. When the rebels attacked the arena, Haymitch went with the new Head Gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee to rescue the tributes. After that, nothing since the rebels disconnected the shell box, a secret communication web in the Panem network. Also, Finnick and Katniss are with them.
"Anything?"
"Heavensbee assistant, Fulvia Cardew, activated the shell box and sent a message on Plutarch's behalf. Things are not going well for them, apparently. Finnick and Katniss are not cooperating since news broke out of Peeta and Annie being captured and District 12 destroyed. Beetee is still in intensive care."
"What about Haymitch?" I asked quickly. "What about my dad?"
"Is it really difficult to get Haymitch sober?"
A laugh burst out from my lips before realizing what came out. Quickly, I covered my mouth, surprised. At the same time, everyone in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing and looked at me, bemused. I haven't laughed or shown any positive emotion to anybody since waking up from the Remake. Then again, the image of Haymitch pacing in a small metal room muttering all types of alcohol or tied to some chair screaming for a drink while wearing a straitjacket. A snicker still rumbled in my chest, and a smirk hidden as I continued to chuckle uncontrollably at the many images my father was going through. Sobriety and Haymitch don't go together in the same pot, let alone give the guy a knife for a teddy bear.
Cinna smiled at hearing the fits of giggles. "I'll take that as a yes."
I nodded, still unable to stop snickering, "Imagine taking candy from a baby."
Once I was able to calm down from the fit. I sighed, taking a deep breath. It felt good to truly laugh, even for a moment. But the subject of my father had me concerned about his post-traumatic stress disorder. Even to this day, he gets nightmares pertaining to the Hunger Games, and he tries to sleep by day instead of night to evade the nightmares.
Hearing Finnick and Katniss not doing well left me ultimately on edge. Hacker has been on surveillance after hacking into the Training Center's cameras, noting Peeta is alright along with Annie, but Johanna was absent. Doing what Hacker does best through the network, found out that Johanna is being interrogated personally by Damon. Only Damon isn't going full-on torture other than sleep depravity, waterboarding, and occasional beating. Turns out the ring I thought I lost was in her possession, assuming Haymitch gave her the ring while giving Finnick his bracelet to earn Katniss and Peeta's trust.
After a week of recovering, I watched the Third Quarter Quells. Everyone advised me I shouldn't watch it, but I did. To watch the Quell, it was difficult to see friends kill one another, but I had to know what had happened. Followed by hearing Damon's voice reminding me of each death. Cinna joined me as I watched Mags sacrifice herself after giving a farewell kiss. I watched the Mutts chasing after Katniss, Finnick, and Peeta until Fara stepped out of her hiding spot and pushed Peeta out of the way, taking the blow. Watching Peeta comforting the Morphling until she died. I watched Blight walking into the force field. I saw the distress it put on Johanna as she mourned for her comrade in blood rain before leading Beetee and Wiress out. Followed by watching Cashmere slit Wiress's throat.
The worst was seeing Finnick in distress as jabberjays were used to trick him. Hearing Annie and my voice calling out his name. The Gamemakers used our voices, knowing we were his weakness. His lover and his adopted sister. Not long after, Katniss fell victim to hearing her mother's and sister's voices and Gale's. I tensed, yet Cinna squeezed my hand as we continued to watch. Especially when Brutus killed Chaff, seeing the man I saw as my uncle be murdered.
Then came the final moment. Katniss was separated from the others with Johanna. Enobaria and Brutus almost caught them until Johanna struck Katniss, taking a knife and supposedly stabbing her. The Careers thought so, too, until Katniss got up and returned to the Lightning Tree. Peeta seemed to notice something was wrong and searched for Katniss, which Finnick chased him, only to be separated. Peeta ran into Brutus, killing Chaff. Enobaria was still chasing Johanna. Peeta, in a fit of rage, tackled Brutus. They fought until Peeta punched Brutus to death. Peeta went into shock.
The scene changed to Katniss back at the Lightning Tree. Beetee had taken the coil and tied it to a spear, striking the forcefield, only for it to backfire, knocking him unconscious. Katniss stumbled over, finding Beetee. Katniss seemed disoriented and tied the wire to her arrow. Finnick rushed in, only to stop when he saw Katniss aiming an arrow at him. Even though I knew of their current situation, seeing this put me on edge.
Until Finnick said, "Remember who the real enemy is."
The exact words that Haymitch used the night before the Games.
Afterward, Finnick tried to get Katniss away as lightning was about to strike. Katniss turned her attention to the sky and fired as lightning came down. Afterwards, it ends there. The screen goes black. Varick comes into the room and tells me the aftermath for the third time.
It took me a few days to grasp all that had happened. Once I comprehended everything, I did my part in giving information—not all the secrets, but what the Jabberjays needed to take down the Government.
I snapped out of my train of thought and looked at Cinna.
"There's more, isn't there?" I asked after calming down.
"…They think we're dead too, another reason why things are becoming difficult." Cinna answered.
"How do they know that? We can tell them we're still alive?"
"Plutarch told Katniss I was dead after the peacekeepers arrested me. Saying I died in interrogation and in the bomb. He even gave her the journal I created specifically for her in this war."
"Oh," I mumbled, not looking at him. "…what convinced them I was dead before the news?"
Cinna was silent for a moment until he said, "Your eye. According to Fluvia's report, President Snow left a rose in Victors' Village with a small present for Haymitch. Katniss had to see if District 12 destruction was true and went to deliver the box to Plutarch, who gave it to Haymitch, and when they opened it..."
"My eye was there. Damn it." I slammed my fist onto the table.
President Snow has such irony in making people suffer more than they have. First, Seneca Crane was forced to eat Nightlock after letting two victors win the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games. Then me, by killing Midnight to show he could take my source of happiness no matter what form. And now this, Haymitch last killed Tribute, the career from District One, he stabbed her eye out, and now he gets the eye from his daughter as a present.
"Varick is going to keep us a secret, isn't he?" I asked.
"It appears so, but not until the time is right to earn Plutarch's trust again," he answered calmly.
Plutarch Heavensbee has been declared the leader of the Rebellion against the Capitol. However, he's not a top dog, just the face in case of assassination or a disguise. Two more Rebellion members are joining Plutarch in the event: Xavier Varick and President Alma Coin from District 13. Although Varick and Coin don't see eye to eye with Plutarch, for Plutarch wants to bring back the Roman Republic (City-states), Coin prefers Totalitarian democracy (though Varick would mutter democracy like an insult.). Varick recommends that Panem return to its founding father's Government of a Constitutional Republic. Now you can see the disagreement is leading to no end. Capitol authoritarian power, Rebels wanted freedom through violence, and the Jabberjays like both ends to cease fire and discuss matters logically.
This is why I don't like to get involved with politics. Hasn't the apocalypse shown an example of how the human population is close to extinction? Add the Hunger Games and this war; there will probably be no civilization afterward.
Where's Peeta Mellark when you need him? I thought bitterly at the thought before getting up. "I should start heading to work."
"You know that is not necessary," Cinna murmured, taking my tray, but I took it from him.
He has hardly been able to manage things with one hand lately.
"It's better than doing nothing," I assured him. "And besides, you know what happens when I get bored."
Cinna scoffed, last week after going through basic testing and hasn't been assigned to do anything the simulation triggered. So, I keep as active as I can throughout the day, and I do that by creating a chart about the Profit Circle. And if I hallucinate, I enjoyed yelling at my fears when they appeared in a human apparition, cursing up a storm to the point I laughed when somebody came in asking if I was alright. I kissed Cinna on the cheek and left him to do his business.
.o0o.
The room that was supposed to be my office had a table center covered with pictures and files, and one of the walls was decorated in about the Profit Circle in a spider web. So far, I have managed to have members, the center being President Snow, with a note underneath stating him as founder and director. I keep scrolling around the list, some images being blank with code names. A red string close to Snow was Damon with a note saying Cleaner and Interrogator, along with other members of the board.
Then there was the Vulture group. Vultures are famous Capitol family members who keep a close eye on the Profit Circle's subordinates and pay for entertainment…in other words, Augusta Flickerman's picture was there with clients he interacted with. Another group was Gamemakers; Seneca Crane's picture had a red x, along with other members who had an X on them. I closed my eyes and sighed sadly for the youngest Head Gamemaker.
The victor group was extensive, with nearly ten people involved in many conspiracies. Gambit, known as Kern Spectral from District Five, was a top gambler Snow used in poker tournaments and games. Tattoo two dice on snake eyes. A red x over his picture indicates he's dead. He died at age fifty, assuming lung cancer from smoking, but actually terminated for letting Capitol Citizens win or ditching out on games. Next was a sword for Enobaria from District Two, who was used in sex and propaganda for her sharp golden teeth while participating in a few assassinations. Gem and Silk are Gloss and Cashmere, both with an x on them, while notes tell their place as members of prostitution, tattoos…unknown. Shark, Finnick Odair, in prostitution and information gathering on secrets while tattoo being a shark tangled in a net. Cowgirl Miya Langdon, the youngest music industry member, tattoos an upside-down horseshoe. Then, mine came up with an extensive list. Canary, Blaine Abernathy, participated in scandals and assassinations in the music industry. Tattoo, small canary with shackles on its feet-
"I never quite understand the tattoos?" Varick said out of nowhere, as he came in. "Or at least the symbolism behind them."
I turned around and sighed, "The Tattoos are symbolic references that symbolize us but with a twist indicating that I was not free. Gambit was a gambler, and snake eyes were the lowest point, meaning loser in dice. Sharks are top predators in the aquatic food chain, yet it's vulnerable when caught in a net. Finnick is in that position, being forced into prostitution with many people on the line. The horseshoe means good luck since Miya won her Game out of luck, but when it's upside-down, it means bad luck. The Canary, a songbird who is always caged."
"But the picture doesn't appear in a cage," Varick stated.
"That's because I'm on a longer leash…" I muttered.
Varick nodded since he knew everything that was involved from the Profit Circle after investigating privately. Xavier Varick used to be the Capitol's top journalist for Capitol Couture and News. He had this way of searching for scandals, from celebrities and icons to being front-page news. However, from what I've been told, he got an anonymous letter about Finnick turning sixteen and being a prostitute by the Capitol Government and so on with the other tributes. Since he was straight and couldn't afford Cashmere, he went for the cheapest member, who was me as an escort date. I didn't pay much attention until President Snow said we have a fly on the wall.
Varick shook his head, "The Hunger Games should have been over long ago."
"Why hasn't it?" I asked.
Varick took a seat, "From what I have been told, the Games were dwindling interest after ten years. The Capitol didn't want the Hunger Games, and viewership was declining. Until Dr. Volumnia Gaul wanted to change that. She wanted a spectacle to put the Districts in their place. So, she made students from the Academy mentors on the Tenth Hunger Games."
"I know of it," I said. "It was my cousin's game."
Varick nodded, "However, Dr. Gaul did not realize that a Jabberjay was on the team and that they intentionally bombed the arena."
My eyes widened, "A lot of innocent people and children were killed."
Varick sighed, "I wasn't alive back then, but I understand sacrifices had to be made."
"And who was the spy?" I asked.
"Casca Highbottom," he answered.
I had to sit down when hearing this. The Dean of the Academy and creator of the Hunger Games was a Jabberjay. Varick read my expression and continued.
"From what had been documented, Highbottom did not intentionally create the Games. It was a homework assignment when he was young with his classmate. Both got drunk when writing it. However, the next day, Highbottom regretted the thought of wanting to change it. But his classmate turned the essay in."
"And who was his classmate?" I asked bitterly.
"Crassus Snow," he answered.
"You gotta be shitting me," I gawked.
President Snow's father, I thought in dismay.
"I wish I was," Varick said. "Crassus turned the assignment in, and Dr. Gaul started the Hunger Games. Highbottom spent a decade with the Jabberjays to stop the Hunger Games after the first Game. One Hunger Games was enough. Yet the Government wanted more. Highbottom and the Jabberjays tried to stop it. By small things, such as poor television quality. Terrible airing times. Except Dr. Gaul was persistent."
"And the academy changed that," I added.
"All thanks to Coriolanus Snow," he confirmed. "He and several of his classmates came up with the sponsorship. After Lucy Gray Baird's Game, he supposedly felt enthralled to be a peacekeeper, but that is a lie."
I snorted, "From what the Covey told me. Snow cheated by giving Lucy Gray a compact filled with poison."
"And placed a handkerchief that contained her scent in the mutt's enclosure." He added. "Highbottom thought the best way to eliminate Snow by exposing him or sending him away."
I was surprised.
Varick noticed this, "I will see if there are records of Lucy Gray's game."
"Why?" I asked.
He gave a sincere smile, "So you know who your cousin is."
"They say her game got lost in the system," I reminded.
Varick laughed as he stood up. "It got deleted from the public record, but Highbottom and Dr. Gaul kept a copy."
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
"Because Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom weren't the only creators of the Hunger Games." He answered. "President Snow was a Gamemaker. He made the Hunger Games as it is today. Small mercies to support the victors."
"I know what he is," I seethed.
Varick then handed me a file.
"And there is more truth than what you are told," he replied.
I sighed, picking up the Operation Burning Wing file and opening a picture of me of the presentation after the sixty-ninth Hunger Games. "Why me? You could've gone to Finnick or Johanna, but why me?"
"Because we saw a man who would go to great lengths to save his daughter. And the daughter, who tried to preserve what little innocence she had. I saw a young girl who was scared and took the opportunity," he said. "Though, I think I pushed too far to get shot."
"I tried to warn you," I grumbled. "You're lucky it wasn't a knife."
"Since you wear them in your boots."
"And sleep with them under a pillow." I chuckled. "A family habit."
Varick laughed, scratching his head. "You Abernathy's are strange."
"Not strange as you, dead man," I countered.
Varick scoffed and agreed that we were all strange in our predicament of being both declared dead. Once we calmed down, he got back to business. "I assumed Cinna informed you about the rebels and other things."
"Yes, though I'm wondering why we can't at least tell the rebels I'm alive. I don't want my father to suffer..."
Varick sat there looking straight into my eye, saying not, not until he gains Plutarch's trust. I sighed, trying to hold back tears or argue. There were so many things I wanted to say, except I kept my mouth shut. Though a sarcastic remark slips off the tongue, "So, are you going to make me propaganda for the insurgents, calling me…The Jabberjay."
"Not to be sexist, but jabberjays are male." He pointed out. "Although, I have some expectations that I need your help with. I have a hunch things are not going to plan, not with the Capitol now bombing District 8."
I scowled; first, District 12 and now District 8 are being bombed. The death toll is increasing rapidly, and I hope Cecelia's children are safe. Then again, family members of victors are being watched or executed as well.
"So, what do you have planned?"
"First, I need you to be declared fit for active service. You can have liberty going out when you've passed the tests, so take them seriously. Your psychological evaluation is…. complicated. Let's hope your medical and physical tests are better and your psychological doesn't get the best of things." He then stood up, making his leave.
"I know what's real and what's not real." I sneered. "Anything else?"
"Just waiting for the opportunity for your invention," Varick added. "Hacker's making your eye, and let's not forget wardrobe."
I was still not happy about the part of Hacker's invention that was inside my head. It was based on a theory to repair one's eyesight with machinery. The reason is that Hacker has a tendency to blow things up. I'm alive right now, but what happens when the second part of the invention is put in?
"Terrific," I said sarcastically. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow. Cleo will be your trainer, so be nice." Varick patted my back, leaving me deep in my thoughts.
Great, just great, I thought.
No matter where I go, I still live amongst the shadows of spies. Then again, the Insurgents are not known to the public or declared the enemy to the Capitol, for nobody knows who they are. They're not districts. They are individuals, an opaque group who live in the shadows, fighting the Capitol's darkest secrets.
So much for a clean slate.
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