Chapter Text
My hands softly rests on my belly, finding comfort in knowing that I am not alone. I know that I am not alone, Simon is here with me and at least half of the other tributes, those from districts 7 to 12 are in this hovercraft as well. But that is all that we are, a bunch of scared, young tributes of which no one has a real clue what is going on.
No one has been telling us anything. There has been one person, who hasn’t identified himself, that told us we would not be going to the arena but to a safe place, but that is about it. It made me wonder if the other tributes, the career ones, might have reacted more hostile than the ones in our hovercraft. Because in this one everyone seems numb and confused.
“Madge?” Simon softly asks, he has been sitting opposite me this entire time but up until now he has been quiet.
“Yeah?” I whisper back.
“You think this is their plan? You think this is what Haymitch talked about?”
The same thought had crossed my mind, the moment someone told us we weren’t going to the arena. Is this their plan to keep me safe? Is this their plan to jump start the rebellion and make sure we are at the center of it?
“If it is.” I reply. ”Then where are Peeta and Haymitch?”
“Maybe they are in a different hovercraft.” Simon tries. “They wouldn’t have come with us to the launch anyway.”
“Maybe.” I mutter. “I just wish they would tell us a little more about what is going on and where we are going.”
“We are going to a safe place, Miss Undersee.” I hear behind me, making me look around. There is a middle aged man in front of me. He is wearing a suit and a nametag that tells me he is Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker. “A place from which we can launch a true rebellion.”
“With me at the center.” I mutter.
“Exactly.” The man says, sitting down on one of the benches beside me. “You gave us something we needed, Madge. You gave us a way to reignite the flame. To spur up a rebellion that has been brewing for years and has a very visual representation in the form of your pregnancy.”
“What does that mean, Sir?” I ask him. “What does it mean for me? For Simon? For Peeta and Haymitch?”
“We are -”
“Or what does it mean for Twelve? For Rye and my parents? I am risking a whole lot with a lot of uncertainties.”
“Haymitch said that you agreed.” Plutarch says with a look of doubt on his face. “He told me that you agreed to take the risks.”
“I did and I do.” I reply. “But that does not mean that I don’t worry. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“We are trying to keep the casualties to a minimum.”
“A minimum?” I ask, looking at Simon from the corner of my eye. He is listening in, as are most of the other tributes.
“We can’t guarantee anything, Madge.” Plutarch says. “But we are trying our best to save as many people as we can. Right now we have the two tribute hovercrafts en route towards the same destination. We lost contact with the hovercraft that was supposed to pick up the mentors, but we are sure it is just a minor inconvenience. I am sure we will reconnect with them once we are in safer territories.”
“And what is our destination?”
“I can’t tell you yet, but I assure you it is safe.” Plutarch says with a smile before he turns his attention to the rest of the tributes. “Once we arrive you will all receive a medical check up just to be sure. We want you all to get the best care we can provide and that includes medical attention. We do realize that all of this is confusing and that you are all wondering what this means for you and your families. I assure you that we will explain everything as soon as we can.”
“Are our mentors in on this?” Tara from Eleven asks. “Seeder and Chaff didn’t mention anything.”
“Most of them are in on the plans, but they didn’t have the exact details. We only talked about it with Madge and Simon for a reason.” Plutarch replies. “Chaff and Seeder have been on our side for a couple of years now.”
“Our side?” Buck from Nine asks. “What exactly is our side?”
“The side that wants change and a better world for all of us.” Plutarch replies. “A side that has been working on this for a long time and now found the time and place to act.”
“So a rebellion?” Buck asks.
“A rebellion indeed.” Plutarch replies. “The end of the farce that is the Hunger Games and the start of a better life for everybody.”
“But what does that really mean?” Barb from Ten asks. “I mean, we might agree with trying to make this world a better place, but at what cost? What is this going to mean for my parents? Or for my five younger siblings that are all counting on me?”
“We can’t tell you that yet.” Plutarch says. “There is no way for us to predict what is going to happen in the next couple of weeks and months. The only thing I can tell you is that they won’t see you die in the games in the next couple of days, but I am sad to say that we haven’t located all of them.”
“You do realize that the families of tributes are watched carefully right?” Tara asks. “You do realize that they are under an even more watchful eye than they normally are. Especially this time with the Quell twist.”
“They are?” Simon asks.
“Yeah. My cousin Whisk was reaped a couple of years back and we all noticed how the Peacekeepers were keeping an extra eye on them. They were watched during their shifts, after their shifts and the patrol would visit their house regularly just to catch them if they acted out. They all but locked them up during and for at least a year after the games.”
“Is that true?” Ebony from Seven asks, focussing on Plutarch. “Do they really do that?”
“Unfortunately they do.” Plutarch replies. “There are standing orders that the tributes’ families are watched intently because they are most likely to show anger and resentment during and after the loss of their family member. Sometimes we include friends of tributes as well, mostly when they have already shown signs of unrest.”
“What about the families of victors?” Otis from Seven asks. I get why he does as Blight is his uncle. “Do they get watched for as long as the victor is alive?”
“That depends on the victor in question.” Plutarch replies, his eye falling on me for a moment. “Some of the victors enjoy a special status in the Capitol. They visit often and are seen as the inner circle within the bigger group.”
The prostituted victors. Or that is what I assume Plutarch means. Gloss, Cashmere, Augustus, Alana, Finnick and Peeta.
“Others are watched because of their behaviour or the behaviour of the victor. Some are left alone after a couple of years if they’ve never shown any threats against the government. In your case, Blight was and is on the watchlist for suspected rebel behaviour so I guess that your family was still kept an eye on.”
“Lovely.” The thirteen year old mutters, making me smile a little.
“Was Blight in the Capitol with you?” Marlon from Ten asks.
“Yeah.” Otis replies. “My dad asked him to take care of me and he told him that he would. They always were close, Blight is my godfather. I think he also felt at least slightly responsible for getting my name in the reaping.”
“I think all of our relatives would if they had known that we would bear the fruit of their misfortune.” Tyra says. “None of them ever wanted that. I think my aunt and uncle apologized a thousand times to me and I believe they did the same to my parents. They had no fault in any of it but because Whisk was my relative, they felt responsible.”
“My parents were just distraught that they are set to lose another child.” Soya from Nine mutters. “My sister died two years ago and now their only other daughter is set for slaughter as well.”
“I didn’t even know I was related to a former tribute.” Fyan from Eleven answers. “I live in the community home and all my relatives are dead. Apparently my mothers’ younger sister was reaped a long time ago, but I never knew until I got the list of who were in.”
“What about you guys?” Brella from Eight asks, having been silent all this time. Her eyes are completely focused on me, almost staring through me. “You seemed to be the special one in more ways than one and I still haven’t figured out why except for the pregnancy. Was your relative something special or something?”
“Well.” I mutter. “I believe that all of them were. Mine just had the misfortune to get reaped in second Quell. Both the year with twice as many tributes and the year that we managed to get a victory for the first time since the tenth games or something. Haymitch also allied with my aunt Maysilee so when people see him and talk about his games, she comes up a lot.”
“Do you know a lot about her?”
“Yeah.” I reply. “She was my mothers identical twin. She talked about her all through my childhood. I guess that is what people found so special, I could basically be her child since she shared the same genes as my mom.”
“That is just stupid.” Otis mutters. “They want kids to kill each other but they are somehow looking forward to seeing what could have become of their children.”
“They live in the Capitol, Otis. That does not actually mean they are smarter than us.” Ebony tells her district partner. “My mom used to say that they are slow and find entertainment in things that don’t really matter. You can tell that my mom wasn’t exactly pro-capitol.”
Only a second later the hovercraft shakes heavily, making a few of us scream in terror.
“Just a little bit of turbulence, there is nothing wrong.” Plutarch tells us, he seems to be listening in to our stories which seems weird because he was supposed to be the one to kill us in the arena.
“How long do we still have to go?” Simon asks, he looks a little pale as if he is nauseous.
“About half an hour.” Plutarch replies. “We are really nearly there. I promise."
“Mr Heavensbee?” Brella asks, politely. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Brella. What do you want to know?”
“Were the reapings rigged?”
“Rigged in what way?”
“Well.” Brella says with a sigh. She seems like a smart young girl that thinks before she speaks. “My parents have often wondered if a tribute was in the games because someone wanted them to be. If someone had been rebellious for example, one of the relatives would get reaped to calm them down. It has happened a couple of times in the last couple of years and it made me wonder. Especially since Madge told her story.”
“I wondered about that too.” Simon ads. “Haymitch said that he believed it to be true.”
“Thread hinted that he would let me get reaped to get rid of the baby.” I add. “He told me that he would even have me reaped if I hadn’t had a relative. He basically told me he would have made up some kind of connection like he did with the Hawthornes.”
“With who?” Fyan asks.
“The Hawthornes.” I reply. “Gale was Katniss’ best friend but he posed a threat to the love story that Peeta and Katniss had going on. So they made him Katniss’ nephew, which he never was. The Hawthornes have a long family line, but it never crosses with the Everdeens. But despite that all being a lie, his brothers were in the reaping this year.”
“That sucks.” Fyan replies.
“Yeah, I can imagine he was quite mad about it.” I reply, before I turn to Simon. “Was he?”
“Oh yeah.” Simon replies with a grin. “I think his crewmates all but tied him down to keep him from destroying something.”
“And rightfully so.”
“Wait.” Fyan asks. “Why do you need to ask Simon about it? Twelve is small right? Why didn’t you notice yourself?”
“Because I was only led out of the cellblock about two minutes before the reaping.” I reply. “Thread had locked me up in there the moment he found out I was pregnant with his child. He kept me from my friends and family, allowing only himself to visit me for about four weeks. He bought a dress for me and let one of the maids from his house do my hair before he forced me outside to get reaped.”
“Did you see your parents and friends during visitation?”
“Luckily, yes. I am not sure if I would have been able to manage all of this if I hadn’t.” I tell him with a small smile. “I had known for all that time that I was probably going to be reaped, so I had come to terms with it. My dad and boyfriend knew it too.”
“How?”
“My dad is the Mayor of District Twelve.” I reply. “And he is about the only friend that Haymitch has left. My boyfriend is Peeta’s older brother so he is already very aware of the Capitol’s power.”
“You have some interesting connections going on.” Buck mutters, making me smile.
“Thanks, I guess.” I reply. “It already was like that before all of this started. It just so happens that everything seems to be connected to the games.”
“That doesn’t answer my question though.” Brella asks, not having forgotten her original question. “Are they rigged, Mr Heavensbee?”
“Some of them are.” Plutarch replies with a sigh. “Every year we get requests to reap certain people and most of them are honored by the President.”
“Which ones?” Brella asks.
Plutarch lets out a heavy sigh, almost like he does not want to disclose any of this.
“Which ones, Mr Heavensbee?” Brella asks again. “Since we are the subjects of those reapings, we deserve the truth.”
I instantly know that I like Brella. She is smart, thoughtful and just. It makes me wonder what her life has been like. What led her here.
“You do.” Plutarch replies. “If anyone deserves the truth it is you guys and the other twelve tributes.”
His eyes fly over the collection of teenagers in front of him. Almost like he is connecting the faces to the reapings that he is thinking about. Almost like he is trying to see whose lives he influenced deliberately instead of at random.
“There were five that were deliberate this year. The males from Five and Seven and the Females from Four, Eight and Twelve.”
“Why?” Buck asks. “Did they give a reason?”
“They have to if they want to get it approved.” Plutarch replies. “For Twelve it was a personal favor to the Commander. Seven, Four and Five were for suspected rebel behaviour by a family member. And Eight -”
“Because I saw what I saw.” Brella mutters, looking at her feet.
Plutarch doesn’t say a thing, which makes me think that whatever Brella is talking about is right. No one but her and Plutarch know what she saw exactly and I have a feeling that neither one of them is going to elaborate.
Right at that moment we get a notion that we are ready for decent. They tell all of us to get into our seats and buckle up. We can all feel the slow descent into wherever we are going. There are all kinds of sounds and suddenly the windows at the sides are turning dark like we just descended into something. With a harsh bump we land as the tension in all of us gets only worse. Where did we end up and what is expected of us here?
The cargo door of the hovercraft opens, revealing a whole army of people glad in grey of which one enters our hovercraft.
“Listen up, tributes!” He shouts. “This will go easier if we line up carefully and follow instructions. We are going to lead you to an area where you can wind down and where each and everyone of you will get a medical check up and some food. We realize you have a lot of questions, but save those for later. Right now we need to get you settled, questions can wait.”
They line us up in district pairs after that, Otis and Ebony in front and Simon and I in the rear. It feels almost like the military. Like they are drilling and training us for something. Denim from Eight, who is the youngest tribute and the only Twelve year old, is silently crying as Brella holds his hand.
I try to look at all of them, feeling like they are somehow my responsibility because most of this is happening in my name. Most of them are doing decently well, they are tense here and there but they are still walking on the adrenaline of possibly being launched into the arena. In most cases the older tribute of the two watches over the younger one, no matter the age difference or the age of the oldest or youngest tribute. Which means that Simon is my responsibility more than the others.
“Simon?” I ask him softly, drawing his attention. “It will be fine.”
“You sure?” He mutters, sounding unsure and fragile.
“I have to be.” I reply, reaching my hand out to him, which he grabs. “I told Delly that I would try to be your substitute big sister. I am not going to disappoint her.”
“Right.” He mutters, a slight smile on his face as I see the hint of a tear on his cheek.
“I am just so scared of everything right now. Even more than in the last couple of days.” Simon mutters. “I knew what would happen. I knew that I would die, probably about two hours ago in the bloodbath. And now I have no clue at all.”
“I know.” I reply. “We’ll figure it out, one way or another. Trust me on that.”
“I do.” He replies as we start walking off the cargo door into whatever place we’ve entered. We just follow the other tributes since we seem to all be led to the same place.
“Miss Undersee?” I hear behind me, making me stop in my tracks. I turn around, Simon following suit because he is still holding onto my hand. In front of me is a grey haired woman in a grey suit. The man next to her seems to be some kind of military leader as he is wearing a gun on either hip. She looks at me with a cold smile that I am not sure I like. Apparently she knows who I am, although I have no idea who she is.
“Who’s asking?”
“My name is President Alma Coin.” The woman replies. “Welcome to District Thirteen."