The Victor -Pollux-

Chapter 7

The hovercraft soared through the air. The group silently sat in the back, preparing for what they will soon see. Carson knew tagging along was the right choice. She wanted to see the aftermath of what Snow had done. She also wanted to help in any way possible. The film crew was pleasant company, but Carson would never admit that aloud.

They were different from the others in District 13. They were from the Capitol but had rebelled. Now, they were here, and they were passionate about obtaining change. They truly wanted a better Panem.

Something tapped her foot twice. Carson looked up. Pollux held out his notepad. She took it from him, reading over the words written in black ink. Why do you use a spartan sword?

"It's easy," she hands him back the notepad. "Much easier than a bow or trident."

Pollux wrote something else down. Messalla and Cressida were sleeping, taking up three chairs each. Castor had his head thrown back, but he was awake. He was listening. He was always listening. Pollux handed her the notepad again. Is that what you used in the arena?

It was a simple question. An easy question. "In the Quarter Quell," she whispered. "But not in my first games." It seemed he didn't know that. That surprised her. Everyone watched the games.

Carson handed him the notepad. It appeared he was ready to ask another question when someone else spoke. "It was a knife, right?" It was Cressida. Apparently, she was awake. "Or was it a machete?"

"It was-"

"And the scarf, right?"

Carson clenched her jaw, eyes cast on the floor. That's what people remembered the most about her games. There was a difference between her and many other Victors. Beetee won by electrocuting six people at a time. He killed more than her but less gruesomely. Katniss killed two people, both with an arrow. Carson killed five people in her games. She took five lives.

The first was an accident. It was day two. They were both running when they collided into each other. It was the girl from District 6. Her first instinct was to fight. She had the upper hand strength-wise, but they were in the desert. A thin layer of dirt covered everything, including ledges. The girl misstepped. Carson shoved her backward. She slammed her head on a rock. She died instantly.

The second person was less of an accident. The boy from District 5 attacked her while she slept. Carson stabbed him in the thigh and ran away. He bled out a few hours later.

A week into the games, she killed again. Lucas, the boy from her District, had teamed up with the Careers to hunt her down. Lucas had pinned her down while the other boy prepared to gut her, but she threw sand in his face. It allowed her to get the upper hand. Carson stabbed him in the chest. Her knife went straight into his heart. Two of the Careers fled, but she threw her knife into the District 2 boys' skull.

Three days later was the finale—the big spectacle. A storm had forced the two finalists to meet at the Cornucopia. The fight was in the middle of the night. There was a raging sand storm making it impossible to see. It was Carson and the girl from District 4, her name was Cloak. They were both 16. Everything about them was identical, making them an even match. Carson lost her weapon in the chaos. The other girl didn't.

They fought on top of the mental Cornucopia for a while. Carson had been stabbed, beaten, and on the brink of death when the District 4 girl made a simple mistake. She put too much of her weight on one leg. Carson kicked her knee inward, causing her body to fold. She jumped up, but her knife was still missing. All she had was a scarf, which she used. Carson pulled the scarf around the girl's throat, closing her eyes tightly. There was struggling for a while, then nothing. A moment later, she heard a cannon, but she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes.

"We're here," Cressida breaks the silence. Carson glanced at the open doors. They were back in District 8.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Seeing District 8 again was not easy. The hospital was no longer in flames, but it didn't make the scene better. The building was destroyed, reduced to broken concrete slabs and shards of glass. "Get some shots of the piping," Cressida instructed Castor. "Keep the frame expanded. I want to see the other wreckage as well." He did as told.

Carson stood off the side, eyeing the wreckage. That's when she spotted something in the rubble. It was red in color and stood out against the grey cement. She reached forward, picking it up. It was a toy. A red teddy bear that at some point belonged to a child. The fact it survived was a surprise. It seemed whoever it belonged to did not.

Carson held the bear, her fingers dusting off the ash. Cressida pointed at her, causing Castor to record her. She didn't see them. That was for the better.

There was a heavy silence that hung over the group. It wasn't easy being back here. Carson felt a tremendous amount of guilt. President Snow bombed the hospital because they were here. It was their fault. All these people were dead because of them.

Someone tapped her shoulder. Carson spun around. The toy still clutched in her hand. It was Pollux. He held up his notepad. Are you okay? She read.

Carson nodded, stepping off the rubble. "When I was in the games, I thought I had seen the worst of what Capitol will do to others." He stared at her. "I guess I was wrong." Pollux wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't understand what it was like. He was from the Capitol. He never had to experience the games or fear being reaped. Carson cleared her throat, forcing her emotions to the side. She didn't want to appear weak in front of them. Her eyes combed over Pollux. "You know," she said swiftly. "With those bags, you guys kind of look like bugs."

That caused Pollux to smile. He began scribbling something down. Carson found herself moving closer, curious about what he had to say. He flipped the notepad around. What kind of bug?

She thought for a moment. "Have you ever seen a rollie pollie?"

The smile on his face only widened. "Pollux," Cressida shouted. "Come on. We're moving to back. I want to get shots of the jets Katniss shot down."

Pollux looked almost disappointed the conversation had to end. He walked away from her. Carson watched him for a moment. As the group moved on, she set the bear back on the rubble. It needed to stay here, where it belonged. Turning around, she followed after the group.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late when Carson returned to her room. She closed the door quietly behind her, but it didn't matter. Charlie was wide awake. The young girl was tucked in her bed, her back against the wall. "Hey." In her hand is a book with a dark red cover. It's one she doesn't recognize. "What are you doing awake?"

Charlie sets the book down but doesn't close it. "Waiting for you."

"You didn't have to do that, love bug." Carson slipped off her dusty grey boots. "I said I would be back late."

"It's okay. I don't mind. Beside's, I have a book to read, and it's getting good."

That didn't come as a surprise. Charlie loved to read more than anything else. "Oh, yeah?" It was a new book that Carson had never seen before. "Where did you get it?"

Her response is quick. "Pollux."

The dark-haired girl raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" That wasn't what she was expecting her to say. Why would Pollux give her a book?

"Yeah. He gave them to me after you left the dining hall the other day." Charlie flipped the page. "He has all kinds of books. He said I can borrow them whenever."

A faint smile appeared on Carson's face, but she was still a bit uneasy at the idea of Charlie being alone with strangers. She decided to brush it off, for now. "Well, I guess you'll have to thank him."

"I did," she picks up the book. "He's nice. I like him."

"You do?"

"A lot," Charlie beams. "He's very nice. I can talk as much as I want, and he doesn't seem to mind." Carson assumed it was because Pollux was too nice to tell her to stop talking. Or it could have been because he was an Avox and couldn't speak at all.

Carson laughs loudly. "That's good. You love to talk."

"I do." Charlie looks back at her book. "I'm glad you're back."

"Yeah," she sighs. "Me too."