Mocking Jay

water from Boggs. "You did great," he says.
Well, I didn't faint or throw up or run out screaming. Mostly, I just rode the wave of emotion rolling through the
place.
"We got some nice stuff in there," says Cressida. I look at the insect cameramen, perspiration pouring
from under their equipment. Messalla scribbling notes. I had forgotten they were even filming me.
"I didn't do much, really," I say.
"You have to give yourself some credit for what you've done in the past," says Boggs.
What I've done in the past? I think of the trail of destruction in my wake--my knees weaken and I slide down
to a sitting position. "That's a mixed bag."
"Well, you're not perfect by a long shot. But times being what they are, you'll have to do," says Boggs.
Gale squats down beside me, shaking his head. "I can't believe you let all those people touch you. I kept
expecting you to make a break for the door."
"Shut up," I say with a laugh.
"Your mother's going to be very proud when she sees the footage," he says.
"My mother won't even notice me. She'll be too appalled by the conditions in there." I turn to Boggs and
ask, "Is it like this in every district?"
"Yes. Most are under attack. We're trying to get in aid wherever we can, but it's not enough." He stops a
minute, distracted by something in his earpiece. I realize I haven't heard Haymitch's voice once, and fiddle with
mine, wondering if it's broken. "We're to get to the airstrip. Immediately," Boggs says, lifting me to my feet with
one hand. "There's a problem."
"What kind of problem?" asks Gale.
"Incoming bombers," says Boggs. He reaches behind my neck and yanks Cinna's helmet up onto my head.
"Let's move!"
Unsure of what's going on, I take off running along the front of the warehouse, heading for the alley that
leads to the airstrip. But I don't sense any immediate threat. The sky's an empty, cloudless blue. The street's
clear except for the people hauling the wounded to the hospital. There's no enemy, no alarm. Then the sirens
begin to wail. Within seconds, a low-flying V-shaped formation of Capitol hoverplanes appears above us, and
the bombs begin to fall. I'm blown off my feet, into the front wall of the warehouse. There's a searing pain just
above the back of my right knee. Something has struck my back as well, but doesn't seem to have penetrated
my vest. I try to get up, but Boggs pushes me back down, shielding my body with his own. The ground ripples
under me as bomb after bomb drops from the planes and detonates.
It's a horrifying sensation being pinned against the wall as the bombs rain down. What was that expression
my father used for easy kills? Like shooting fish in a barrel. We are the fish, the street the barrel.
"Katniss!" I'm startled by Haymitch's voice in my ear.
"What? Yes, what? I'm here!" I answer.
"Listen to me. We can't land during the bombing, but it's imperative you're not spotted," he says.
"So they don't know I'm here?" I assumed, as usual, it was my presence that brought on punishment.
"Intelligence thinks no. That this raid was already scheduled," says Haymitch.
Now Plutarch's voice comes up, calm but forceful. The voice of a Head Gamemaker used to calling the
shots under pressure. "There's a light blue warehouse three down from you. It has a bunker in the far north
corner. Can you get there?"
"We'll do our best," says Boggs. Plutarch must be in everyone's ear, because my bodyguards and crew are
getting up. My eye instinctively searches for Gale and sees he's on his feet, apparently unharmed.
"You've got maybe forty-five seconds to the next wave," says Plutarch.
I give a grunt of pain as my right leg takes the weight of my body, but I keep moving. No time to examine the
injury. Better not to look now, anyway. Fortunately, I have on shoes that Cinna designed. They grip the asphalt on
contact and spring free of it on release. I'd be hopeless in that ill-fitting pair that 13 assigned to me. Boggs has
the lead, but no one else passes me. Instead they match my pace, protecting my sides, my back. I force myself
into a sprint as the seconds tick away. We pass the second gray warehouse and run along a dirt brown building.
Up ahead, I see a faded blue facade. Home of the bunker. We have just reached another alley, need only to
cross it to arrive at the door, when the next wave of bombs begins. I instinctively dive into the alley and roll toward
the blue wall. This time it's Gale who throws himself over me to provide one more layer of protection from the
bombing. It seems to go on longer this time, but we are farther away.