Сьюзен Коллинз - Mockingjay

If this was a test, Finnick and I both pass it. When Plutarch finishes and the meeting’s adjourned, I have a bad moment when I learn there’s a special order for me. But it’s merely that I skip the military haircut because they would like the Mockingjay to look as much like the girl in the arena as possible at the anticipated surrender. For the cameras, you know. I shrug to communicate that my hair length’s a matter of complete indifference to me. They dismiss me without further comment.

Finnick and I gravitate toward each other in the hallway. «What will I tell Annie?» he says under his breath.

«Nothing,» I answer. «That’s what my mother and sister will be hearing from me.» Bad enough that we know we’re heading back into a fully equipped arena. No use dropping it on our loved ones.

«If she sees that holograph—» he begins.

«She won’t. It’s classified information. It must be,» I say. «Anyway, it’s not like an actual Games. Any number of people will survive. We’re just overreacting because—well, you know why. You still want to go, don’t you?»

«Of course. I want to destroy Snow as much as you do,» he says.

«It won’t be like the others,» I say firmly, trying to convince myself as well. Then the real beauty of the situation dawns on me. «This time Snow will be a player, too.»

Before we can continue, Haymitch appears. He wasn’t at the meeting, isn’t thinking of arenas but something else. «Johanna’s back in the hospital.»

I assumed Johanna was fine, had passed her exam, but simply wasn’t assigned to a sharpshooters’ unit. She’s wicked throwing an ax but about average with a gun. «Is she hurt? What happened?»

«It was while she was on the Block. They try to ferret out a soldier’s potential weaknesses. So they flooded the street,» says Haymitch.

This doesn’t help. Johanna can swim. At least, I seem to remember her swimming around some in the Quarter Quell. Not like Finnick, of course, but none of us are like Finnick. «So?»

«That’s how they tortured her in the Capitol. Soaked her and then used electric shocks,» says Haymitch. «In the Block she had some kind of flashback. Panicked, didn’t know where she was. She’s back under sedation.» Finnick and I just stand there, as if we’ve lost the ability to respond. I think of the way Johanna never showers. How she forced herself into the rain like it was acid that day. I had attributed her misery to the morphling withdrawal.

«You two should go see her. You’re as close to friends as she’s got,» says Haymitch.

That makes the whole thing worse. I don’t really know what’s between Johanna and Finnick. But I hardly know her. No family. No friends. Not so much as a token from 7 to set beside her regulation clothes in her anonymous drawer. Nothing.

«I better go tell Plutarch. He won’t be happy,» Haymitch continues. «He wants as many victors as possible for the cameras to follow in the Capitol. Thinks it makes for better television.»

«Are you and Beetee going?» I ask.

«As many young and attractive victors as possible,» Haymitch corrects himself. «So, no. We’ll be here.»

Finnick goes directly down to see Johanna, but I linger outside a few minutes until Boggs comes out. He’s my commander now, so I guess he’s the one to ask for any special favors. When I tell him what I want to do, he writes me a pass so that I can go to the woods during Reflection, provided I stay within sight of the guards. I run to my compartment, thinking to use the parachute, but it’s so full of ugly memories. Instead, I go across the hall and take one of the white cotton bandages I brought from 12. Square. Sturdy. Just the thing.

In the woods, I find a pine tree and strip handfuls of fragrant needles from the boughs. After making a neat pile in the middle of the bandage, I gather up the sides, give them a twist, and tie them tightly with a length of vine, making an apple-sized bundle.

At the hospital room door, I watch Johanna for a moment, realize that most of her ferocity is in her abrasive attitude. Stripped of that, as she is now, there’s only a slight young woman, her wide-set eyes fighting to stay awake against the power of the drugs. Terrified of what sleep will bring. I cross to her and hold out the bundle.

«What’s that?» she says hoarsely. Damp edges of her hair form little spikes over her forehead.

«I made it for you. Something to put in your drawer.» I place it in her hands. «Smell it.»

She lifts the bundle to her nose and takes a tentative sniff. «Smells like home.» Tears flood her eyes.

«That’s what I was hoping. You being from Seven and all,» I say. «Remember when we met? You were a tree. Well, briefly.»

Suddenly, she has my wrist in an iron grip. «You have to kill him, Katniss.»

«Don’t worry.» I resist the temptation to wrench my arm free.

«Swear it. On something you care about,» she hisses.

«I swear it. On my life.» But she doesn’t let go of my arm.

«On your family’s life,» she insists.

«On my family’s life,» I repeat. I guess my concern for my own survival isn’t compelling enough. She lets go and I rub my wrist. «Why do you think I’m going, anyway, brainless?»

That makes her smile a little. «I just needed to hear it.» She presses the bundle of pine needles to her nose and closes her eyes.

The remaining days go by in a whirl. After a brief workout each morning, my squad’s on the shooting range full-time in training. I practice mostly with a gun, but they reserve an hour a day for specialty weapons, which means I get to use my Mockingjay bow, Gale his heavy militarized one. The trident Beetee designed for Finnick has a lot of special features, but the most remarkable is that he can throw it, press a button on a metal cuff on his wrist, and return it to his hand without chasing it down.

Sometimes we shoot at Peacekeeper dummies to become familiar with the weaknesses in their protective gear. The chinks in the armor, so to speak. If you hit flesh, you’re rewarded with a burst of fake blood. Our dummies are soaked in red.

It’s reassuring to see just how high the overall level of accuracy is in our group. Along with Finnick and Gale, the squad includes five soldiers from 13. Jackson, a middle-aged woman who’s Boggs’s second in command, looks kind of sluggish but can hit things the rest of us can’t even see without a scope. Farsighted, she says. There’s a pair of sisters in their twenties named Leeg—we call them Leeg 1 and Leeg 2 for clarity—who are so similar in uniform, I can’t tell them apart until I notice Leeg 1 has weird yellow flecks in her eyes. Two older guys, Mitchell and Homes, never say much but can shoot the dust off your boots at fifty yards. I see other squads that are also quite good, but I don’t fully understand our status until the morning Plutarch joins us.

«Squad Four-Five-One, you have been selected for a special mission,» he begins. I bite the inside of my lip, hoping against hope that it’s to assassinate Snow. «We have numerous sharpshooters, but rather a dearth of camera crews. Therefore, we’ve handpicked the eight of you to be what we call our ‘Star Squad.’ You will be the on-screen faces of the invasion.»

Disappointment, shock, then anger run through the group. «What you’re saying is, we won’t be in actual combat,» snaps Gale.

«You will be in combat, but perhaps not always on the front line. If one can even isolate a front line in this type of war,» says Plutarch.

«None of us wants that.» Finnick’s remark is followed by a general rumble of assent, but I stay silent. «We’re going to fight.»

«You’re going to be as useful to the war effort as possible,» Plutarch says. «And it’s been decided that you are of most value on television. Just look at the effect Katniss had running around in that Mockingjay suit. Turned the whole rebellion around. Do you notice how she’s the only one not complaining? It’s because she understands the power of that screen.»