Inhale

There was a moment of stunned silence in the square. Then another yell pierced the area and the cameras shut off, slinking back onto their track and scooting out of the way of harm.

And harm spread quickly.

I felt Mags clasp my arm as the peacekeepers, the largest amount I’d ever seen, descended on the crowd, even those who had nothing to do with the fools who’d shoved their hands high. The peacekeepers saw no difference, everyone was a target. They dove into the crowd, batons raised as people scrambled to get away from the growing chaos. I could hear the yelps of the five who had dared, so defiantly and publicly, to show a level of support for Katniss that was clearly unacceptable.

It had been the sign she had held up to the cameras, the day Rue had died. It was a symbol of District Twelve, some silly little thing they did. It certainly wasn’t a childish habit now. The noise grew louder, and the screams of the guilty blurred in with everyone else, parents calling children, couples searching for another.

There was blood soaking into the sand that always caught between the cobbles and just as swiftly I felt it on me, sinking into the skin of my hands, spots on my hair from the cut just above my hairline. The tear in my thigh reopened, the bone sticing from below my kneecap, the burning into my arms as I desperately tried to cling to his bloody fingers. They were slipping, Tyger was slipping and would end up in the abyss. I was going to lose him.

“Elenia...move!” I blink, wrenched harshly forward, a claw around my wrist. My hands were clean, covered in nothing but sweat, my leg was fine and the burning in my shoulder was Finnick, trying to get me to move, to unfreeze and leave the danger. I took one harsh breath. I wasn’t there, not in the arena. That was over.

“Elenia!” I let the oxygen force its way down my throat and the noise around erupted fully again. The crowd was evaporating, the peacekeepers everywhere, looking like they were attacking at random, shoving past people, calling hard orders. “Here. You can't do that, you need to stay here okay?” I shot him a shaky nod, not trusting myself to speak, “We need to get home, stay with me?” I nod at him, my eyes wide, Mags huddled into his other side.

I probably looked as mad as I truly was.

Finnick wiped a hand over his tensed jaw, eyes darting, deciphering the situation and looking for our best route. I glanced around, the others were gone but I could make out the back of Andromeda with Tobias and a couple of the others.

“I saw your brothers in the crowd.” His voice broke over the waves of distress, “I think they’re meeting us at yours okay? I couldn’t really hear Luka but that looked like what he was mouthing. “ His teeth met his lower lip briefly, “We need to go now, this is getting out of hand.”

Mags nodded furiously and I let him pull me along, although my eyes lingered on people crumbling to the floor, batons still flying and bashing against weak skin. It was impossible, what was happening; what we were weaving around? We broke from it eventually, having to take more time for Mags but there was some reprieve. They wouldn’t dare touch a Victor, especially not Mags, they’d be insane too, more trouble than it would be worth.

Yet everything had spiralled from so small an action. No, I realised, pausing as my heel caught between two small cobbles. This had come from those berries, from that hint of rebellion, that moment the Capitol had been defied and the main rule of their games had broken. There was only supposed to be one Victor.

We stop down a smaller road, doors and homes were slammed shut and locked, people closing wooden shutters. “That was ridiculous.” Finnick panted, and I finally pulled my hand away, he’d held it so tightly that blood flushed to it now, making it burn. “Sorry.” He breathed and I nodded, rubbing it gently, more concerned about the growing red patch on Mag’s bare shoulder.

“Bastards,” I grumbled, finally feeling able to speak, although she shook me off. “Where did everyone else go?”

“Naloh dragged Luine away as I got you, that was about all I saw...well other than your brothers.” I nodded at him, biting the inside of my cheek and tasting blood. At least I was no longer seeing it on every surface. I have to stay here, stay with Finnick. I felt an odd sense of calm suddenly, that analytical part hidden deep inside my damaged psyche took a leap forward.

“And they’ll be at home?” Finnick nods again, tongue dancing over his lips. There were still the sounds of shouting, arguing from the square, catching and drifting on the wind. My stomach churns, people were being beaten, hurt. What could have happened? And how long ago, the peacekeepers had been here for...

A gunshot echoed in the air and was followed by a split second of dead silence.

“We need to get home.” This time I broke Finnick from some deep thought and he nodded.

“Yeah...we do.”

“Take Mags.” I replied with as much force as I could manage and they agreed, him slinging her onto his back like a doll as we peeked around a corner. A woman screamed as a house further up the hill burst into flames that dominated the sky. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, an earthquake threatening to destroy. It only dropped as Finnick called my name again, a few steps ahead, pale.
I forced my feet to move, there was nothing we could do right now. This was beyond us surely? This was madness, utter lunacy. I followed after my friends.

What were the authorities so scared of? An uprising? That sent a shiver vaulting up my body.

After a while I stopped, surprised even with our slow pace to find myself panting, tearing the heels from my aching feet and holding them loosely. “Finnick!” A voice rang out, a bike skidding to a halt close to us. He turned and the boy clambered down, I barely stopped him from falling. His face was flushed a deep red and sweat was in beads across his temples. He looked close to tears. “You have to come, they’re going to lash the people who put their hands up!” I felt the words catch in my mouth, lash them? I couldn’t remember the last time someone had been publicly lashed whatsoever. “One of them is my brother, please you have to come, they’ll listen to you! Please, Finnick!”

He couldn’t have been much older than fifteen, one of the children who stood each year, praying someone would volunteer so he would definitely be safe for another twelve months. I was certain Finnick had made up his mind before he faced me, so I don’t know if my gentle nod made any difference. I slid Mag’s arm through my own, watching as they both darted off, the boy’s bike lay on the ground.

I grabbed it, murmuring to Mags and leaning it against a nearby chunk of rock, a piece of the cliff that had collapsed years ago, become a landmark for girls to meet boys at.

“Let’s head back, okay?” She was worried about Finnick, she managed his name, eyes desperately searching that direction. “I’m sure he’ll be able to do something, you know how much influence he has.” I was saying it more for myself than her.

Lashes, in the square. It was barbaric. I just prayed it was nothing more. That the gunshot we had heard was a warning shot, not murder.

It took a while for us to get back, I wasn’t strong enough to sling her onto my back as Finnick had, so we walked slowly, and I kept my sight out desperately for my brothers. They’d be there before us, waiting in my living room, perfectly fine. I wish I had known they were coming today, I would have looked out for them more, been more aware and ready to act.

I was still struggling to comprehend what had just happened. How had it spiralled out of control so easily from just the position of fingers, a raised arm? And Finnick’s face, I knew he was aware of something I wasn’t, he received enough phone calls from the Capitol, arranging his ‘visits’ to influential people. Charming them over the phone to find anything to his advantage. He had to know something, it was written all over his face.

“This is bad.” Mags mumbled, the words slurring together as they did. She was the oldest person I knew, grandparents weren’t that common unless you were a young child or very well off. I didn’t know what exactly the average lifespan was, that was hardly something they taught you in school, but a lifetime of hard work definitely look a few years off what you would expect. I didn’t like to think about it, like so many other things the idea of death, the external reach of nothingness petrified me. And yet I had killed people. Sent them to that black eternity, been forced to smile about it, stutter my way through interview after interview like it was fine.

I hated it, I hated the Capitol. I hated the games, I hated it all.

I’d just never comprehended that others had, at least not in the way to show it like this, knowing the risks. A brisk wind danced across my arms and I shivered, we were almost back, away from all of the other houses but most doors we had walked past had been closed, one only opening to offer Mags a coat.

“There you are!” Luka jogged over suddenly, own cheeks still flushed, wide green eyes scared. He had obviously been waiting by the entrance to the Victors Village, “Are you both okay? Where’s Finnick, he was supposed to be with you!”

“He went off to help.” I snapped, not liking the way his voice had lifted, “Let’s just get inside alright? Is everyone okay?” I was still terrified something bad may happen, even so far away from the madness.

“Someone knocked Rita over but yeah, we’re...” There was an expression on his face I didn’t like, “I wasn’t anywhere near them, they were at the back but, we’re fine...I...just...what the fuck just happened Elle?”

I didn’t really have an answer for him.

A few hours passed, the children were tucked asleep in my second bedroom, the five of them in the large bed. It was the biggest room in the house, obviously meant as the master bedroom. I preferred the other, I didn’t need so much room, it only emphasised how isolated I was.

We turned on the hologram in the hopes they would cover it but nothing, they showed the speeches, the glimmer of us former victors. Thankfully it almost looked like I was clapping, so I couldn’t be accused of that. We sat watching Katniss and Peeta’s Victory Tour so far.

Drinks were passed around, both of my brothers muttered in low, hard and hurried conversation. Mags was dozing in an armchair, a thick blanket was drawn over her by Rita and Phillus. “I’m going to go and check on the kids.” The latter proclaimed, trying to break through the awkward feeling in the room but failing, her feet padding on the stairs as she vanished.

Finnick should be back by now. What if he had gotten involved and gotten hurt? Taken to the few cells under the town hall? No, they couldn't. I was right, he held too much influence, he was too well loved and known. The Capitol would be distraught if anything were to happen to him. I'd be distraught if anything happened to him.

I scold myself, trying to clear my head. That wasn't helping, this wasn't helping. My fingers were tapping a random rhythm close to my knee. I was growing agitated, I could feel it, my legs tense like I should be moving, not sitting here unable to do anything.

“Do you agree with what they did?” I barely heard my own voice, just the heads twitching in my direction.

“If you’re asking us if we want an uprising that’s a tricky subject.” Luka pressed carefully. I keep my eyes holding the flickering fire. “I don’t think we’re going to have much of a choice. Something else had already happened.”

“How do you know that?” Thom leant forward, elbow resting on his knee, chin on his hand, “Have you heard something from the Capitol?”

I shook my head. “The security, we’ve never had all those peacekeepers before. Something must have happened in another district to warrant it.”

“Well there’s no way they’d show any of that is there?” Luka chipped in scornfully, “But it makes sense...you...you think it would do anything? If all the districts did revolt? If we tried...”

“Tried what?” Rita cut her husband off, “Another rebellion, you want Four to end up like Thirteen? Don’t be ridiculous. By all accounts from what Elenia has said we have it good here compared to a lot of other places!”

“We send children off to die every year; they sent my sister off for their own sick entertainment!”

Suddenly I was nameless, not in the room. “She came back.” Rita grabbed his hand softly, voice lowering accordingly, “She’s here.”

“Yes, but she’s...” He trailed off and I left, he didn’t have to say it. He wouldn't when it was in my hearing range but I knew it would be, “She’s not the same is she?"

I had no idea he felt so passionately. It was too dangerous and I took a long sip of the water, glaring out of the window when I noticed a light flicker on in Finnick’s kitchen. I could see it through the gaps in-between the wooden shutters. Why hadn’t he come over?

I didn’t bother with shoes, slipping out of the back door and treading softly over the damaged grass, patches of dying yellow forming patterns. The groundskeeper seemed to be slacking lately. I stopped, rapping my knuckles sharply across the wood. I heard the sound of a chair scraping across the wood before the door swung open. I never knocked, so he may not have been expecting me.

The air leaves me sharply, and I'm not in control of my lungs. “It looks worse than it is.” I gape on broken syllables instead as he moves aside, closing the door gently behind me. It was cool in his kitchen, cooler than mine ever was.

“Wha...” I still couldn’t.

“They shot someone.” He sounded so unlike himself; all the warmth and cockiness that resonated in his voice had fallen, the words had so much meaning but felt so empty. “They’ve set up the stocks, the pole for lashes...” His damaged hand clenched into a fist, “A shooting squad.” His kitchen twisted in my view and I groped for the counter to remain upright. “And I couldn’t do anything.”

The creak of his voice sent a physical pain through my chest and all I could do was slam into his. He was shaking but his arms easily wrapped around me, chin resting on top of my head.

It wasn’t just the shot, although that was horrific enough. The death before him would have transported it back to what we all tried hard to forget. The sight of blood, the act of seeing someone die was the arena, it was the games.

I found my voice for him. “You did everything you could. You went back with that kid and...”

“What I said made no difference, they didn’t even listen. Me saying it was the same as anyone else.” I felt a brow creak upwards, “Well,” he forced himself to smile, “I guess the insults they shot at me were far more colourful than if they’d spoken to a canner or something.” I stop myself from asking questions, well aware of the unfortunate view people had of what exactly Finnick, myself and other Victors did in the Capitol.

“We need to get you cleaned up first, 'kay?” I was aware of him nodding but had to push his arms for him to release me, “Sit down.” My voice would have sounded firm if it wasn’t for the slight quaver but he did as I said, still looking downtrodden, fury glimmering every few seconds. He had gotten a large bowl of cold water ready, a bloodied rag.

His face wasn’t as bad as I had feared originally, there was a small cut by his eyebrow and his lower lip was swollen. I wanted to ask him but didn’t dare, the look was enough to render me silent once again.

His hands were the issue, he’d obviously swung a lot of punches, tried to pull people back. His knuckles were already covered in specks of drying blood and there were scrapes all over his palms and elbows. I needed to disinfect it but all I could think of were spirits, some clear alcohol. I knew he had some, he barely moved even as I gathered the bottle, nearly dropping it and swearing loudly. He flinched a little as I pressed a cloth soaked in it against his fingers, the smell stinging my nose and the sore patches where I had torn off too much nail with the building panic.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t shush me.

For a month all ships were grounded. Fishing and production completely shut down. Not only did it affect the deliveries to the Capitol it started to affect everyone. People were going hungry, which rarely happened. So much of our food came from the ships and wealth they brought.

The peacekeepers ruled us all. The head peacekeeper, a new woman who sounded as if she was straight from District Two set a strict curfew. There were boundaries for movement, no-one was to be out of their homes when it was dark, children were not to roam unsupervised. Shops could only sell certain materials, although after a couple of weeks they were running low themselves. If you broke any of these new rules you would earn yourself five strikes.

At least one hundred people were lashed. It was compulsory for the family of that person to attend.

It didn't stop with lashes. Four groups of people were found guilty of conspiring against the Capitol. They were accused of plotting, or being part of an underground revolution which seemed to have formed on the fishing boats, brainstormed on the docks. Seven men were killed by the firing squad before the curfew was lifted. Their homes were burnt to the ground. It was the highest form of treason.

One of those men was Luka Volute.