#ah126

He didn’t speak to Alder as they left the building behind, headed towards somewhere Alder told him would be safe. Safe for who? he wanted to ask, because his own position was confused now.

He had left the Capitol swearing not to speak to Cade again, not only because he had woken embarrassed about what had happened with him and Abel, but because he couldn’t go down the path Cade seemed to want to lead him down.

Slate had a backpack full of propaganda literature against the government when he ran into Luca. And no, he wasn’t really ashamed about that, but he was leafing through the latest issue of TH3 T0MMYKN0CK3R, checking out the pro-rebellion lyrics his friend had printed, and he did shove it behind his back immediately upon seeing Luca in Victor’s Village.

Across Panem, there was rebellion as he’d always envisioned it. Clashes in the streets, fires, all adrenaline and sweat. This was not one of those things. He had a scarf pulled up his face to conceal everything but his eyes, and was crouched behind a bush with Willow next to him as Peacekeepers paced the front of the lumber mill. By the perfection of their gait, the preciseness of their turns, he clocked them as robotic Peacekeepers almost immediately, which he considered to be both good and bad. Good because they could act more indiscriminately, attack with full force at standardized chinks in their armor. Bad because they could not be fooled, and their range of sense would far surpass a humans.  “We’ll have to get around them somehow,” Alder breathed to Willow, turning to look at her. “I don’t think we could take them without raising an alarm, they’re too far away.” The goal wasn’t to attack anyways-- it was to get in and lay the groundwork for one.

Cade had always thought he’d make a great Victor. As a child he’d picture himself living in one of the homes tucked into the heart of District Six, smaller than his own but plenty lavish. He’d be universally recognized for the things he had done, not his father. Despite so few Victors actually coming from Six, he always envisioned every home in the circle occupied. He imagined community. What a joke. Alone, he stumbled into the Village, teetering as the sidewalk pitched and rolled under him. Despite it being mid-morning, he took another pull from the bottle, something clear and strong. He wondered if he was high, too, couldn’t remember what he’d been doing all the night before. Cade wandered into the middle of the circular road that formed the Village and laid down on the asphalt, staring up at the sky as the reassuring repetition of the homes cradled him. Was this was community felt like? Stability? Family? He couldn’t remember why he’d come here in the first place, but maybe he’d hoped he’d find something here that he’d imagined.  He closed his eyes, then, vaguely registering some footsteps nearing him, but he didn’t pay any attention. It wasn’t like anyone really lived here anyways, who would run him over?

Though the city had descended into chaos, and Colette was making plans to evacuate herself and Olympia if need be, she wanted to find the time to see the new Victor. She had met her briefly in training, but always found it difficult to attach to any tributes before the Arena, since it was so likely they’d simply be gone.

“How are you holding up?” The question came with an offering of tea, long after all of the children had all gone to bed. Things had quieted in Twelve in the last week, but there was an unspoken, deep sympathy she felt for Trixie, KyAnne, and Valkyrie since they’d moved in in Twelve. She knew what it felt like to lose a home. To lose everything and somehow keep going. She sat beside her on the couch, patiently awaiting an answer-- or to be brushed off.

He had spent a day cleaning the cabin, which sat low in the several acres of property he owned. Out back was a garden that was much more well-tended than the inside of the home, which ascribed to what he liked to refer to as ‘maximalism’ but was really just mess he didn’t mind. It was never dirty, but rather, had the things that he’d accumulated over his lifetime, and never really knew what to do with.