Mocking Jay

And here I am again. With people dying because of me. Friends, allies, complete strangers, losing their
lives for the Mockingjay. "Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can
finish the mission."
"No one's going to agree to that!" says Jackson in exasperation.
"We're wasting time!" says Finnick.
"Listen," Peeta whispers.
The screams have stopped, and in their absence my name has rebounded, startling in its proximity. It's
below as well as behind us now. "Katniss."
I nudge Pollux on the shoulder and we start to run. Trouble is, we had planned to descend to a lower level,
but that's out now. When we come to the steps leading down, Pollux and I are scanning for a possible alternative
on the Holo when I start gagging.
"Masks on!" orders Jackson.
There's no need for masks. Everyone is breathing the same air. I'm the only one losing my stew because
I'm the only one reacting to the odor. Drifting up from the stairwell. Cutting through the sewage. Roses. I begin to
tremble.
I swerve away from the smell and stumble right out onto the Transfer. Smooth, pastel-colored tiled streets,
just like the ones above, but bordered by white brick walls instead of homes. A roadway where delivery vehicles
can drive with ease, without the congestion of the Capitol. Empty now, of everything but us. I swing up my bow
and blow up the first pod with an explosive arrow, which kills the nest of flesh-eating rats inside. Then I sprint for
the next intersection, where I know one false step will cause the ground beneath our feet to disintegrate, feeding
us into something labeled Meat Grinder. I shout a warning to the others to stay with me. I plan for us to skirt
around the corner and then detonate the Meat Grinder, but another unmarked pod lies in wait.
It happens silently. I would miss it entirely if Finnick didn't pull me to a stop. "Katniss!"
I whip back around, arrow poised for flight, but what can be done? Two of Gale's arrows already lie useless
beside the wide shaft of golden light that radiates from ceiling to floor. Inside, Messalla is as still as a statue,
poised up on the ball of one foot, head tilted back, held captive by the beam. I can't tell if he's yelling, although his
mouth is stretched wide. We watch, utterly helpless, as the flesh melts off his body like candle wax.
"Can't help him!" Peeta starts shoving people forward. "Can't!" Amazingly, he's the only one still functional
enough to get us moving. I don't know why he's in control, when he should be flipping out and bashing my brains
in, but that could happen any second. At the pressure of his hand against my shoulder, I turn away from the grisly
thing that was Messalla; I make my feet go forward, fast, so fast that I can barely skid to a stop before the next
intersection.
A spray of gunfire brings down a shower of plaster. I jerk my head from side to side, looking for the pod,
before I turn and see the squad of Peacekeepers pounding down the Transfer toward us. With the Meat Grinder
pod blocking our way, there's nothing to do but fire back. They outnumber us two to one, but we've still got six
original members of the Star Squad, who aren't trying to run and shoot at the same time.
Fish in a barrel, I think, as blossoms of red stain their white uniforms. Three-quarters of them are down and
dead when more begin to pour in from the side of the tunnel, the same one I flung myself through to get away
from the smell, from the--
Those aren't Peacekeepers.
They are white, four-limbed, about the size of a full-grown human, but that's where the comparisons stop.
Naked, with long reptilian tails, arched backs, and heads that jut forward. They swarm over the Peacekeepers,
living and dead, clamp on to their necks with their mouths and rip off the helmeted heads. Apparently, having a
Capitol pedigree is as useless here as it was in 13. It seems to take only seconds before the Peacekeepers are
decapitated. The mutts fall to their bellies and skitter toward us on all fours.
"This way!" I shout, hugging the wall and making a sharp right turn to avoid the pod. When everyone's
joined me, I fire into the intersection, and the Meat Grinder activates. Huge mechanical teeth burst through the
street and chew the tile to dust. That should make it impossible for the mutts to follow us, but I don't know. The
wolf and monkey mutts I've encountered could leap unbelievably far.
The hissing burns my ears, and the reek of roses makes the walls spin.
I grab Pollux's arm. "Forget the mission. What's the quickest way aboveground?"
There's no time for checking the Holo. We follow Pollux for about ten yards along the Transfer and go
through a doorway. I'm aware of tile changing to concrete, of crawling through a tight, stinking pipe onto a ledge