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I want to ask Cressida why she's lying for me, why she's fighting for us to go on with my self-appointed<br />
mission. Now's not the time.<br />
"We have to go!" says Gale. "I'm following Katniss. If you don't want to, head back to camp. But let's move!"<br />
Homes unlocks the closet and heaves an unconscious Peeta over his shoulder. "Ready."<br />
"Boggs?" says Leeg 1.<br />
"We can't take him. He'd understand," says Finnick. He frees Boggs's gun from his shoulder and slings the<br />
strap over his own. "Lead on, Soldier Everdeen."<br />
I don't know how to lead on. I look at the Holo for direction. It's still activated, but it might as well be dead for<br />
all the good that does me. There's no time for fiddling around with the buttons, trying to figure out how to work it.<br />
"I don't know how to use this. Boggs said you would help me," I tell Jackson. "He said I could count on you."<br />
Jackson scowls, snatches the Holo from me, and taps in a command. An intersection comes up. "If we go<br />
out the kitchen door, there's a small courtyard, then the back side of another corner apartment unit. We're looking<br />
at an overview of the four streets that meet at the intersection."<br />
I try to get my bearings as I stare at the cross section of the map blinking with pods in every direction. And<br />
those are only the pods Plutarch knows about. The Holo didn't indicate that the block we just left was mined, had<br />
the black geyser, or that the net was made from barbed wire. Besides that, there may be Peacekeepers to deal<br />
with, now that they know our position. I bite the inside of my lip, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "Put on your<br />
masks. We're going out the way we came in."<br />
Instant objections. I raise my voice over them. "If the wave was that powerful, then it may have triggered and<br />
absorbed other pods in our path."<br />
People stop to consider this. Pollux makes a few quick signs to his brother. "It may have disabled the<br />
cameras as well," Castor translates. "Coated the lenses."<br />
Gale props one of his boots on the counter and examines the splatter of black on the toe. Scrapes it with a<br />
kitchen knife from a block on the counter. "It's not corrosive. I think it was meant to either suffocate or poison us."<br />
"Probably our best shot," says Leeg 1.<br />
Masks go on. Finnick adjusts Peeta's mask over his lifeless face. Cressida and Leeg 1 prop up a woozy<br />
Messalla between them.<br />
I'm waiting for someone to take the point position when I remember that's my job now. I push on the kitchen<br />
door and meet with no resistance. A half-inch layer of the black goo has spread from the living room about threequarters<br />
of the way down the hall. When I gingerly test it with the toe of my boot, I find it has the consistency of a<br />
gel. I lift my foot and after stretching slightly, it springs back into place. I take three steps into the gel and look<br />
back. No footprints. It's the first good thing that's happened today. The gel becomes slightly thicker as I cross the<br />
living room. I ease open the front door, expecting gallons of the stuff to pour in, but it holds its form.<br />
The pink and orange block seems to have been dipped in glossy black paint and set out to dry. Paving<br />
stones, buildings, even the rooftops are coated in the gel. A large teardrop hangs above the street. Two shapes<br />
project from it. A gun barrel and a human hand. Mitchell. I wait on the sidewalk, staring up at him until the entire<br />
group has joined me.<br />
"If anyone needs to go back, for whatever reason, now is the time," I say. "No questions asked, no hard<br />
feelings." No one seems inclined to retreat. So I start moving into the Capitol, knowing we don't have much time.<br />
The gel's deeper here, four to six inches, and makes a sucking sound each time you pick up your foot, but it still<br />
covers our tracks.<br />
The wave must have been enormous, with tremendous power behind it, as it's affected several blocks that<br />
lie ahead. And though I tread with care, I think my instinct was right about its triggering other pods. One block is<br />
sprinkled with the golden bodies of tracker jackers. They must have been set free only to succumb to the fumes.<br />
A little farther along, an entire apartment building has collapsed and lies in a mound under the gel. I sprint across<br />
the intersections, holding up a hand for the others to wait while I look for trouble, but the wave seems to have<br />
dismantled the pods far better than any squad of rebels could.<br />
On the fifth block, I can tell that we've reached the point where the wave began to peter out. The gel's only<br />
an inch deep, and I can see baby blue rooftops peeking out across the next intersection. The afternoon light has<br />
faded, and we badly need to get under cover and form a plan. I choose an apartment two-thirds of the way down<br />
the block. Homes jimmies the lock, and I order the others inside. I stay on the street for just a minute, watching<br />
the last of our footprints fade away, then close the door behind me.<br />
Flashlights built into our guns illuminate a large living room with mirrored walls that throw our faces back at<br />
us at every turn. Gale checks the windows, which show no damage, and removes his mask. "It's all right. You can