Mocking Jay

knife. And I'll have Katniss," says Gale with a smile. "She won't give them the satisfaction of taking me alive."
The thought of Peacekeepers dragging Gale away starts the tune playing in my head again....
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
"Take it, Peeta," I say in a strained voice. I reach out and close his fingers over the pill. "No one will be
there to help you."
We spend a fitful night, woken by one another's nightmares, minds buzzing with the next day's plans. I'm
relieved when five o'clock rolls around and we can begin whatever this day holds for us. We eat a mishmash of
our remaining food--canned peaches, crackers, and snails--leaving one can of salmon for Tigris as meager
thanks for all she's done. The gesture seems to touch her in some way. Her face contorts in an odd expression
and she flies into action. She spends the next hour remaking the five of us. She redresses us so regular clothes
hide our uniforms before we even don our coats and cloaks. Covers our military boots with some sort of furry
slippers. Secures our wigs with pins. Cleans off the garish remains of the paint we so hastily applied to our faces
and makes us up again. Drapes our outerwear to conceal our weapons. Then gives us handbags and bundles of
knickknacks to carry. In the end, we look exactly like the refugees fleeing the rebels.
"Never underestimate the power of a brilliant stylist," says Peeta. It's hard to tell, but I think Tigris might
actually blush under her stripes.
There are no helpful updates on the television, but the alley seems as thick with refugees as the previous
morning. Our plan is to slip into the crowd in three groups. First Cressida and Pollux, who will act as guides while
keeping a safe lead on us. Then Gale and myself, who intend to position ourselves among the refugees
assigned to the mansion today. Then Peeta, who will trail behind us, ready to create a disturbance as needed.
Tigris watches through the shutters for the right moment, unbolts the door, and nods to Cressida and Pollux.
"Take care," Cressida says, and they are gone.
We'll be following in a minute. I get out the key, unlock Peeta's cuffs, and stuff them in my pocket. He rubs
his wrists. Flexes them. I feel a kind of desperation rising up in me. It's like I'm back in the Quarter Quell, with
Beetee giving Johanna and me that coil of wire.
"Listen," I say. "Don't do anything foolish."
"No. It's last-resort stuff. Completely," he says.
I wrap my arms around his neck, feel his arms hesitate before they embrace me. Not as steady as they
once were, but still warm and strong. A thousand moments surge through me. All the times these arms were my
only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone
forever. "All right, then." I release him.
"It's time," says Tigris. I kiss her cheek, fasten my red hooded cloak, pull my scarf up over my nose, and
follow Gale out into the frigid air.
Sharp, icy snowflakes bite my exposed skin. The rising sun's trying to break through the gloom without
much success. There's enough light to see the bundled forms closest to you and little more. Perfect conditions,
really, except that I can't locate Cressida and Pollux. Gale and I drop our heads and shuffle along with the
refugees. I can hear what I missed peeking through the shutters yesterday. Crying, moaning, labored breathing.
And, not too far away, gunfire.
"Where are we going, Uncle?" a shivering little boy asks a man weighed down with a small safe.
"To the president's mansion. They'll assign us a new place to live," puffs the man.
We turn off the alley and spill out onto one of the main avenues. "Stay to the right!" a voice orders, and I see
the Peacekeepers interspersed throughout the crowd, directing the flow of human traffic. Scared faces peer out
of the plate-glass windows of the shops, which are already becoming overrun with refugees. At this rate, Tigris
may have new houseguests by lunch. It was good for everybody that we got out when we did.
It's brighter now, even with the snow picking up. I catch sight of Cressida and Pollux about thirty yards
ahead of us, plodding along with the crowd. I crane my head around to see if I can locate Peeta. I can't, but I've
caught the eye of an inquisitive-looking little girl in a lemon yellow coat. I nudge Gale and slow my pace ever so
slightly, to allow a wall of people to form between us.