75th - part 6
johanna's pov
Training goes by quicker than I expected, and suddenly we’re heading into the waiting room, preparing for evaluations. At first, everyone seems casual about it, joking about what they might do. But soon enough, the chatter turns into whispering between allies, and now I’m sitting silently next to Blight.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, sliding off the side of the metal bench and heading for the back of the room.
Katniss is talking quietly to Cole, but I can’t understand what she’s saying. Without waiting for her to notice me, I sit down beside her with a sigh. Cole clears his throat and noticeably scooches away.
“So, have you made a decision yet?” I mutter to Katniss. “Or are you gonna keep us guessing til the horn sounds in the arena?”
She keeps looking at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but me. “I don’t want any allies,” she says bitterly, glaring at the ground.
“Oh really? So if you see me in there, you’re gonna try to kill me?”
“I…I don’t know.”
Oh.
She would kill me? After everything we went through last year? After I was there for her when she needed a friend? I thought I meant something to her. I guess I shouldn’t blame her, because it’s life and death, but…I can’t believe it. She would really kill me?
“Hmm.” I feel the rage building, and I should probably just walk away. After all, fighting the other tributes isn’t permitted. Wouldn’t want to get myself in trouble. “Well, then, I guess this is the end.”
“I don’t—I wish things were different,” Katniss whispers.
“Cool. But you’re still gonna kill me if you get the chance. Got it.”
“What am I supposed to—”
“No, you know what, Katniss?” I spit, getting to my feet, “Fuck off. If you come near me in that arena, you’re getting an ax to the head. And trust me, you and the kid really don’t stand a chance.”
She gazes at me, her face full of despair, but she already made her choice. So I storm back to where Blight is sitting, muttering to himself.
“What’s wrong with you?” I growl at him.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“About what?”
“In the evaluation,” he murmurs. “I want to do something meaningful.”
Meaningful. Whatever he has in mind, I doubt Snow will be a fan. But I’m intrigued, especially if it means giving Snow a piece of my mind. “What do you mean?” I ask Blight.
“I just…,” he sighs. He has that look on his face, the innocent look that makes him look like a little kid. Sometimes I really wonder how he survived the Games. “I don’t want them to get away with this.”
“Yeah, you and me—”
“So why should I do anything?” he continues.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I’m understanding him. “You’re just gonna…sit there?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Because they’ll give you a shitty score and you won’t get—” I stop abruptly as I realize that he’s right. There probably won’t be sponsors anyways, and if there are, there’s no way they’re picking Blight. It doesn’t matter. “Actually, it’s not a bad idea. Kinda funny.”
They call my name before I can decide what to do.
I don’t really wanna throw axes. Or show any of my skills. I think I might just fuck around for a bit and leave. Maybe I’ll take a nap, like Mags joked earlier. Or I could just sit there, like Blight. Or I could throw some axes for the hell of it. Whatever it takes to waste some time.
I catch sight of the Gamemakers as soon as I walk in, and it’s like someone doused me in gasoline and struck a match. I can hear my heart in my ears as I march up to the front of the room and face them, sitting up in their little nest, talking loudly and laughing. Laughing.
“DO YOU REMEMBER ME?” I shout at them.
The whole room falls deathly silent.
“FOUR YEARS AGO, I ALMOST DROPPED A KNIFE ON MY FOOT AND YOU GAVE ME A THREE. THEN I KILLED SEVEN TRIBUTES IN THE ARENA. SEVEN! AND THEN YOU MADE ME MENTOR SIX KIDS WHO NEVER FUCKING HAD A CHANCE. YOU KILLED TWO OF THEM JUST LAST YEAR, REMEMBER? WASN’T THAT SO ENTERTAINING? BURYING THEM IN SNOW? BRILLIANT!”
Half of the Gamemakers look uncomfortable, but some are still chuckling. Pointing at me and muttering like I’m putting on a show. It’ll always be a game to them and I’m so fucking sick of it.
“ISN’T THIS ENTERTAINING?” I screech, knocking over the display of knives. The knives cascade to the floor with a loud clattering as I storm over to the axes and select a few smaller ones meant for throwing. “ARE YOU ENTERTAINED?”
I hurl the axes at the Gamemakers. One by one, they hit some kind of forcefield and get thrown back into the training room at odd angles. A couple come close to hitting me, but I really don’t care.
“That’s enough, Miss Mas—”
“ARE YOU SURE? ARE YOU DONE WATCHING ME?”
“Miss Mason, please escort yourself—”
“YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE REALLY EXCITING?” I scream, walking back to the center of the room as a group of Peacekeepers enters, “IF ONE OF MY FRIENDS HAD TO KILL ME. WOULDN’T THAT BE SUCH A GOOD SHOW? GOOD LUCK TOPPING THAT NEXT YEAR!” The Peacekeepers close in, grabbing my arms and pulling me toward the door, and I blow a kiss at the Gamemakers. “IT’S BEEN A BLAST, HASN’T IT? I’LL MISS YOU!”
I’m released outside and told to go back to my room. I think they’re expecting me to fight, but I don’t. I walk back with my head held high. Blight’s probably getting ready to sit there for a few minutes, and then he’ll join me.
“Johanna.”
I spin around, but there’s no one in the hallway. Maybe I imagined it, but I swear I heard someone whisper right next to me. Whatever. I’m about to keep walking when I hear it again.
“In here, quick.”
“Haymitch?” He’s peering out of some kind of supply closet, beckoning me inside. Alone in a dark supply closet with him. Part of me wants to just walk away, but I’m kind of curious what he wants.
“We need to talk,” he says as I climb into the closet, “but we should wait for Blight.”
“About what?”
“Just wait for Blight,” says Effie Trinket. I almost have a heart attack at the sound of her voice. She’s tucked into the corner, peering at me through those freakishly long lashes that are all the rage in the Capitol nowadays, barely visible even after I’ve realized she’s there.
“I don’t think he’s down for a foursome,” I drawl.
Effie whacks me on the arm.
This closet isn’t very large and I can’t see anything through the darkness. At first I try to feel for a light switch, but it’s useless. Besides, I don’t wanna keep feeling around in the dark, because who knows how many spiders are crawling around us or what’s being stored here. What if Blight never comes? Am I just supposed to leave and pretend this never happened? God, I hope no one sees the three of us leaving together. I really don’t know how I’d explain it.
Haymitch peeks through the slit of light coming through the side of the door, watching for Blight. It feels like we wait for years until Blight finally enters the hallway, humming to himself. Haymitch thrusts the door open, grabs Blight by the arm, and pulls him inside, nearly knocking me over.
“What the hell is this?” Blight cries.
Haymitch hisses, “Shut up!” as he closes the door, plunging us into total darkness. Blight rustles next to me, still confused and disoriented.
“No, seriously,” I whisper, “what is this?”
In a voice so low that I almost miss it entirely, Haymitch mutters, “this is the revolution. You in or out?”
I wish it wasn’t so dark, because I need to see Blight’s face. I have to know what he’s thinking, whether Haymitch is insane or actually worth hearing out. After all, Blight spent several days with Haymitch last year, so he knows him much better than I do. But even from what I know…I feel like we should hear him out.
“In,” says Blight.
“Me too,” I agree.
Haymitch sighs. The closet is so small that I can feel his hot breath, which seriously makes me consider bailing on this whole thing, but I push through it. “Good,” he says, “Now listen…I have a plan to get you all out of the arena, but it’ll depend on several very important factors.”
All? As in everyone? How the fuck would Haymitch pull that off?
“Your job is to get Beetee and Wiress out of the Cornucopia alive,” Haymitch continues.
I can’t help but scoff. “Nuts and Volts? Are you serious?”
“They’re the only ones who can figure out the technical side of things,” growls Haymitch irritably. “Just trust me, we need them alive. So that’s your first job. Your second job is to keep Katniss alive.”
That’ll be easy enough. Except for the fact that Katniss is stupid and noble and suicidal when it comes to protecting others, even strangers. I mean, this is the girl who volunteered for her sister, would’ve killed herself for Peeta, and nearly lost her mind worrying about Santhe and Cole. She’d probably go up against Brutus unarmed if it meant saving Volts.
“Wait, rewind,” Blight says suddenly, “Who’s in on this plan?”
“So far it’s you two, District 3, District 4, District 6, and District 11,” Effie recites.
“But my associates and I are working on turning everyone except the Careers,” Haymitch adds. “We just can’t risk trusting them ahead of time, you know.”
“What about Katniss and Cole?” I ask.
“They don’t know anything,” says Haymitch firmly. “And it’s important that we keep them from finding out, since Snow could try to capture them first if things go wrong. We can't risk them knowing anything.”
“Why would Snow try to capture them first?”
“Katniss is a symbol,” says Effie emphatically, “She means something to the rebels. She’s the reason why all this is happening, and why this will happen.”
“You need to protect her, and trust me, if she knows about this, she’ll make it much more difficult for you,” Haymitch grunts. “Not to mention if they do get captured…”
I think they’re misjudging Katniss, and I definitely don’t wanna be around when she finds out why she wasn’t told. Still, I don’t understand why Cole’s being excluded too. “They wouldn’t crack,” I declare, “Katniss wouldn’t, at least.”
“I’m not afraid of that,” Haymitch replies calmly. “I’m afraid of what they’ll be put through in the process.”
Shit. I feel a chill run down my spine as I try not to think about that. Katniss, Cole, Blight, and me, sitting in some dark room, subjected to all of the horrors the Capitol has to offer. I doubt Snow would spare Katniss and Cole even if they don’t know anything, but at least he wouldn’t keep amping up the intensity to try to break them. He’d just torture them, rather than torture them with a goal in mind.
“You…,” my voice feels weaker when I speak again, “you couldn’t have told us all this earlier?”
“We had to…finalize some things first,” Haymitch grumbles.
“Seriously? Because I just told Katniss to fuck off, so she thinks we’re enemies now. How is she supposed to believe that we’re allies when I find her in the arena?”
“You’ll have Nu—Wiress and Beetee, so—”
“Take this with you into the arena,” Effie interrupts, thrusting something cold into my hand, “She’ll know what it means.”
I flip the object around in my hand. It feels like some kind of necklace, judging by the cool piece of metal and the thin chain, but it’s still too dark in the closet to see for sure. I guess Effie thinks I should use this as a district token? I don’t know how it’ll help, but I put the thing in my pocket and decide to get a good look at it later.
“Well, I didn’t tell her to fuck off,” Blight jokes. “She still trusts me.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” I sigh.
“Listen to me, both of you,” Haymitch mutters, “Keep 3 alive. Keep Katniss alive. If either of those things go wrong, the whole thing is fucked. Got that?”
“You’re not gonna give us any more explanation? Like why they’re so crucial to the plan?” I argue.
“We’re operating on a need to know basis,” says Haymitch. “You don’t need to know.”
“What happens once we get out? Snow’s gonna come after us no matter where we try to hide.”
Somehow, someone finds my hand in the darkness. I can easily tell that Haymitch is the one touching me, because his hands are rough, strong, and definitely couldn’t belong to Effie Trinket. He flips my hand over so that my palm faces the ceiling, then draws a “13” with his pointer finger.
13. As in District 13, probably, because I can’t think of another explanation. It’s supposed to be destroyed…but of course, Snow could’ve been lying about that. But how would Haymitch know that? And how could Snow keep a huge lie like that from the entire country? I have so many questions that I’m suddenly speechless, unsure where to start.
“Like I said,” Haymitch mutters, releasing my hand, “need to know basis. You’ll find out the rest eventually.” He opens the door and light spills into the closet, making me squint as my eyes adjust. “I think we’re done for now. I’ll be in touch.” He marches out toward the elevator with Blight following close behind him.
Before I leave the closet, I remove the token from my pocket and hold it out into the light.
It’s a locket, a beautiful, expensive-looking gold medallion. Carefully, I open the doors of the locket, revealing faces that I immediately recognize as Katniss’s sister and “cousin.” The older woman in the middle must be her mother, but I can’t remember for sure. Still, the serious look on her face is unmistakably Katniss’s.
“Her family,” Effie comments needlessly, “To show that you’re supporting her. Haymitch asked me to order this for Cole, but…I think you should have it.”
“Isn’t it a little weird for me to wear? I mean, it’s her family.” Either Effie thinks too much of my relationship with Katniss, or she isn’t thinking at all. It’s definitely weird for me, another tribute, to wear a locket with pictures of Katniss’s family. It would be weirder if I had any family left of my own, but…
“No,” Effie replies, shaking her head slightly, “because…you promised to protect her, and she protects them. She’ll only trust you if you promise to protect them too.”
I shrug and tuck the locket back into my pocket. “Whatever you say,” I mutter as I walk out of the closet in front of Effie. She follows me to the elevator, but doesn’t say anything else, so I go back to my quarters without acknowledging her again.
Sure, maybe Effie’s right. But I can’t shake the one thing she didn’t say, the one thing that makes the locket feel almost suffocating around my neck: Katniss has people. Katniss has people waiting for her, people who love her, people who need her to come home. Me, Blight, even Cole as far as I know…we don’t.
Which means Katniss really has to get out of this alive, regardless of the revolution.