Chapter Fourteen

Ludovic Robertson (18), Hunger Games Victor

House 8, Victors' Village, District 4

2.30 am, Wednesday 21st January, year of the 69th Hunger Games

Quintus stands and leaves camp, heading to the woods, sword in hand. And he walks almost directly at our hiding spot. If he gets much closer, he'll see us. And then our advantage will be gone.

I turn to look at Maddie, hoping that she's ready to leave. A glance into the clearing tells me that Quintus is closing in quickly. I see Maddie gesture behind us. She wants to move out, and I don't blame her. I don't want to be here when Quintus arrives.

I turn to get to my feet but find my path blocked.

I don't even need to look at their faces before I know who's blocking my way. I drive my elbow into the nearest girl's stomach, incapacitating her for long enough for me to dive past her. I run downhill at a full sprint. Judging by the cries of pain behind me, the girl that I struck out at was Remora. I feel as though I'm travelling light, and then realise I don't have my backpack. It's too late to return for it now. I see an arrow fly over my shoulder and I look back behind me, searching for the bow that it came from. Maddie is the closest to me, but Pearl and Remora are hot on her heels. I can see the bow in Remora's hand. Quintus is a few yards further back, charging down the slope with his sword. I guess that he knew we were there. Pearl and Remora must have crept up behind us and signalled to him. No wonder he came straight at us.

The ground seems more uneven underfoot, and I turn back round to-

SMACK.

I bolt upright in bed, tremors running through my arms, a lump in my throat. The residual visions of my latest nightmare linger in my mind, the thud of the tree into my head and upper body rumbling over and over again, and I reach for the brandy that I keep on my bedside table for moments like these. Its warmth soothes me in the fading moments of terror, but I take a couple of sips and no more. The last thing I want to do is end up like Haymitch; his mind poisoned as much by the substances he takes as the Games he once won.

Not that I have many other options. Most of the other people I would turn to for comfort are gone. It's almost been two years since my father moved out, desperate to fight the grief of my mother's death in his own way. I can't be a burden to him anymore, I know that. The only other family I have, my sister, lives in the Capitol. I guess the other victors could help me, and often they do, but I don't feel close enough to them. My schedules rarely cross with the older victors; Finnick has always been far closer to them than I am. Others, like Julian and Harrow, feel more like uncles to me than anything, but not the sort of person you could confide in on a dark night. I know Finnick is struggling himself, anyway; our paths as victors have been moulded differently since victory, and while I'm sure I'm treading a fine line with Marcus Crane and his team of P.A. workers in the Capitol, Finnick has been more co-operative than me, and he's starting to pay the price for it. Barely a month or two goes by without him being sent off to the Capitol for a weekend to keep his superiors satisfied.

I know there are people I can confide in here in District 4, Annie Cresta and the like, but they don't really understand everything I've been through; not really. They just see the façade I put on when I'm not behind closed doors.

Taking a deep breath and running my fingers through my hair, I realise just how much I need to find some support before I start ruining myself. I can already detect the first symptoms on the road to madness. Maybe, if I can find someone to help keep my head focused, I might be able to steer clear of despair for now.

I rest my head back on the pillow, the shaking gone from my limbs, my heart rate returned to normal, yet the thudding noise remains, away from the dream now. As though there's actually someone out there knocking...

I jump out of bed, shivering as my bare feet hit the cold floor, and dash over to the window looking out over Victors' Village. Pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek out towards my front garden, I just about make out the flash of white in the night.

A Peacekeeper's uniform, and the man inside it knocking at my door.

I frantically throw on a t-shirt and a loose pair of trousers discarded last night, run my fingers through my hair and scramble down the stairs. What's a Peacekeeper doing, knocking at my door at this time of night? It's not like I've done anything-

Oh.

I remember worrying last night about whether Annie had been reckless with her words out on the balcony. Whether a Peacekeeper had intercepted her dangerous conversation. I try to think back to what exactly she said, but all that I can clearly remember is arguing with Dylan, and my blood boils over again. The nerve that guy has, after all these years. I get that he's over-protective, but he should expect better from me.

Still, I'll make him come round. Knowing you're right gets you half way to winning an argument before a single word has been said.

I'm a little nervous as I reach the bottom of the stairs and walk through the doorway towards the front door, my bare feet patting against the wooden floor the only sound but for my own heartbeat rising in my chest.

Please say I haven't gotten anyone into trouble...

My mind flashes to all the people I've gone against in the Capitol. Maybe this is Marcus Crane's carefully chosen moment for revenge? Maybe this is how he is going to get back at me for going against him?

Oh, get a grip, Ludo, I chastise myself as my hand lands on the door handle. Look nervous and they'll think you're hiding something. You've just got to brass it out.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and look out at the man standing before me. Just a couple of inches taller than me, faceless beneath his reflective visor, a regulation rifle by his side.

"Evening, officer," I say as strongly as I can. "Or is it morning? I can never tell what to say when I greet someone at such an obscure time of day."

Maybe the Peacekeeper smiles, at that, maybe he doesn't. I can't tell. Either way, he doesn't reply.

"Is there something you wanted to see me about, officer?" I try again, opening the front door a little wider in an attempt to appear friendly and show that I have nothing to reply. Still no response; the Peacekeeper just stands there stoically for a few seconds, until he suddenly moves forward and into my hallway without saying a word. I freeze as he moves past me, turning left into my living room before I can see him. I follow him into the room and watch as his posture shifts, throwing his gun down onto the couch beside him, and a moment later his helmet joins it, revealing a head of black hair streaked with purple. Then he turns around, and I realise that he's not a Peacekeeper after all.

"Evening, Ludo," Florian Marshall tells me, a smirk on his face. I just stare at him, trying to work out how this man, a twenty-year-old Gamemaker who operates with Cavendish's band of rebels in the Capitol, could be out here in Victors' Village in District 4 dressed as a Peacekeeper, coming to meet with me in the middle of the night.

At least five different questions trip over each other on my tongue as I try to compose a reply, so I take a deep breath to steady myself and decide to go for the obvious.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Florian chuckles at that. "Good to see you too, Ludo. Thanks for asking," he smiles, clearly taking no offence to what I realise came out sounding far more hostile than I intended it to. "I certainly had you fooled, didn't I?"

My face forms a smile, relieved after all that nobody is in trouble, and that I'm instead greeted with a friendly face. Well, maybe not friendly, but certainly a familiar one.

"You'd be amazed what you can manage when you're friends with people with influence," Florian continues, as though he's basking in the glory of a plan coming together. His ego could certainly be considered a weakness, for a person who has so few. One of the brightest and most prodigious minds of his generation, or so I have been told by Plutarch on several of his recent attempts to recruit me. I'm guessing this is almost an extension of their recruitment scheme.

"Being a Gamemaker, it's easy to build up favours with people. The odd clue here and there to people outside the process, a couple of pieces of innovative thinking on my part in the Games HQ, and you can practically get what you want." He smirks again. "Plus, it no doubt helps that I'm such a likeable guy."

"I can only imagine," I say, wondering why someone with so much influence anyway would flaunt so many rules just to come out here and see me. "How come you're out here, anyway?"

"I guess I've got a few things to say to you, on behalf of Tacitus mainly. He still wants you to join our cause. We have a plan ready to-"

"I know, I've heard about the plan. Plutarch seems overly eager about it when I've spoken to him."

"I see," Florian replies, fiddling with the straps to his gloves as he talks, eventually discarding them onto the couch along with his rifle and helmet. "I guess he'll probably do a better job of selling it to you than I will here, but I have to say that it's in your interests to side with us."

"You know, if you've come out here to recruit me, you're not doing a very good job of it."

"It's a good thing that's not why I'm here then, isn't it?"

"So why are you here?" I ask Florian cautiously.

The young Gamemaker smirks. "Well, I'm not here to recruit you, but I am here to take you back to the Capitol so that Plutarch can recruit you."

I stare at Florian blankly. "What?"

"You're coming with me. Train leaves an hour before sunrise, so you've got a few hours to get ready."

"You're actually serious?" I say, still stunned. "The Capitol? Today?"

Florian rolls his eyes. "Yes, today, Ludo. You'll only be gone a few days; should be back for the weekend if you're lucky."

"Won't people notice I'm gone?" I ask.

"Probably," Florian shrugs. "But it'll be no different to any of the other victors spending a few days away in the Capitol, like Finnick or Cashmere. Only your trip will be of more meaning than their brief forays into Capitol culture."

"I didn't mean that," I say, although it is still one thing off my mind. "I mean, I'm not meant to come with you, am I? How are you going to get me away without people noticing?"

Florian rolls his eyes. "Come on, do you really think I'd risk coming all the way out here if Plutarch and I didn't have the whole thing meticulously planned out beforehand? That's what the disguise is for."

I shake my head slowly, as though I can't believe how much effort these people are taking just to try and get me on their side. They either think I'm worth more to them than I can imagine, or they're getting desperate.

"You know Peacekeepers are meant to travel in pairs, right?" I tell him. Florian just smirks again, radiating the typical Capitol-nurtured arrogance I would expect from a Gamemaker.

"Exactly," he says, picking up his bag from the couch and throwing it at me. It's large and awkward to catch, weighing far more than I would expect it to have done. "Kit up."

An hour later and we're both stood in the bay window of my downstairs sitting room, looking out over Victors' Village. The sun still shows no signs of rising, and the view from my window is black but for a light on downstairs in Georgie's house. I guess I'm not the only victor awake at this obscure time.

We're both dressed from head to toe in the white armour of the Peacekeepers, spare the helmets which are still in Florian's bag. The plan is simple. The two of us shall become part of a patrol on a Capitol-bound freight train, laden with District 4's latest quota of fisheries and a select few other luxuries. Following a brief stop in District 6 late this morning, we should arrive in the Capitol by sunrise. There, two of Florian's associates will be waiting to escort us to the Cavendish mansion, where I shall meet once more with the rebels. I'm not sure whether I'm scared or excited by the prospect, but I've warmed to it enough to be convinced by Florian to leave with him.

But before we can go anywhere, we have to wait.

We stand side by side at the window, warm beverages in our hands. A coffee at Florian's request, and a hot chocolate for myself. Looking across at the Gamemaker by my side, I notice his brow furrowed in thought as he gazes out the window, his (certainly unnatural) purple eyes narrowed. As though he is concentrating. Taking in every aspect of the scene in front of him.

"Have you ever been here before?" I blurt out suddenly, cutting through the silence of the room. Florian turns to look at me, eyebrows raised. "District Four, I mean," I clarify.

"No. This is the first time I have left the Capitol." His voice sounds much more uncertain than his usual Capitol tone.

"What do you make of it?"

Florian pauses before answering, his stare stoic as he looks out over Victors' Village. "It is a strange place," he says finally. "Different to the Capitol. I'm not really sure what I expected, if I'm honest. The people here have little compared to the Capitol, have the bare minimum in food and luxuries. The common man here in Four lives as a pauper would in the Capitol."

"But you knew that, right?" I ask. "That Panem's wealth is centred in the Capitol? That is why they have control."

"Of course," Florian replies. "I knew what District Four would look like when I arrived. I've seen enough of it on TV over the years to have a good mental image of the place. What I didn't know was what the people would be like. The people are far happier here than in the Capitol."

I frown. "We suffer so much here," I say slowly, my voice becoming harsher as I let my thoughts unravel. "People are flogged for stealing one slice of bread from a stand in the market. A fisherman can be hung for holding back some of his quota of fisheries to keep his young family alive. How can these people be happy. Our lives are dominated by fear."

"Having seen District Four through the eyes of a Peacekeeper, I see that too," Florian nods. "I know the contempt in the eyes of the common man towards the authority figures. I can see how unwelcome the Capitol's influence is. But beneath the fear, there is genuine contentedness. You are one of the most wealthy districts, where only the extreme poor who live down by the docks really suffer from your situation. You yourself never wanted for anything in your youth, did you?"

I shake my head. "My father was one of few who may have been as rich as the Mayor. He ran the market down in the Docklands for years and years, until he left the job when my mother died."

"I'm sorry," Florian says, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry about it," I say firmly. I have other things to be thinking about right now.

"Anyway, I can see that beneath the fear, the people here are happy, far more so than my friends and colleagues back home. All anyone thinks about is themselves, with their own petty troubles: Whose garden party have I been invited to this weekend?, or What should I save up to tattoo first, my shoulders or my cheeks? It's pathetic, it really is. I was once like that too, before Plutarch showed me the light, shortly after I was promoted to work alongside him as a Gamemaker. Back then, I was as much a symbol of the excesses of Capitol life as anyone else, but now I'm a changed man, and I can see things about District Four that others would have overlooked. The people here want for far less than my old friends in the Capitol, and because of this they are disappointed so much less often."

"I have to say, I've never thought of it like that before." I had never perceived that the people in the Capitol were ever this pensive. I imagined them all to be as shallow as those I have met in journeying there for the Games every year. Of course, Florian is a special case, but he does fill me with hope.

"Having lived twenty years in the Capitol, I can see a beauty in this place that maybe you yourself have overlooked, or taken for granted. Everything about District Four just feels... I don't know, free."

"You do realise there are electric fences keeping us in here, right?" I smirk.

"Yes, but the whole place feels so much less claustrophobic than the Capitol, where the high city walls keep us all penned in together. Here, where the oceans stretch beyond the horizon and the woods much offer a hundred mysteries waiting to be solved, there is a sense of freedom, a sense of optimism that you just don't get in the Capitol. Here, everyone is free to be who they want to be; there is no pressure to conform to the Capitol's stifling fashions and traditions. Everyone here just seems so laid back. That's definitely the impression I get from being here, and what the people in the Capitol see on their TV screens every summer. I'm sure that partly explains why District Four is so popular; everyone else wishes their lives were lived without the petty troubles of the Capitol, and so when they can, they live them through you in the Games. It's only a theory, but I imagine it at least partly explains why District Four never fails to be well-supported in the arena."

"You've really thought all this through, haven't you?" I say, happy just to sit back and listen to the ideals of a man who stands for everything I have come to hate in this world, who really has far more in common with me than I might have imagined.

"I guess it's the sort of thing a Gamemaker would notice," Florian smiles, and I find myself smiling back. "The point is, for the past two years I have been working with Tacitus and Plutarch to find an alternative to the corruption that runs through the whole of the Capitol, from the crooked ideas of its politicians and leaders to the self-centred and prejudiced views of the common people. I have seen both sides of this life and want neither of them. But now, being here to see the flipside of the coin, I know that if we were all to live with the mindset of the people here in District Four... Well, that is something worth fighting for."

Florian turns his head towards me, a slight smile on his face, and for a few extended moments, we let the words hang in the air between us, and I suddenly realise something that has been creeping up on me for minutes.

"You know, I don't think you need bother take me back to the Capitol," I tell Florian with a smile. "I'm already in."