A Knife in the Dark | ✓

Thirty Nine

"Uprisings." Beetee answered. A glowing blue map of Panem appeared on the screen, overshadowing the image of him. "They've begun here, here, and here." Red dots appeared on the screen in District Six, District Nine, and District Eleven. "Underground groups that first appeared during the Dark Days are surfacing here, here, and here," green dots appeared in District One, District Four, and District Twelve, "and these districts have agreed to join the rebellion." District Eight, District Ten, District Seven, District Five, and District Three lit up in gold.

"So where do we come into this?" Jake asked, studying the map carefully.

"We're the only district with nothing." Saylee observed. "No underground groups, no uprisings, nothing. Most people probably don't even know that there are problems."

"We need District Two." Beetee said. "District Two is the physical power behind the Capitol, and its mountains form the border. If we don't get District Two, then we have no hope."

"You picked the wrong district to need." I told him. "Nearly everyone in District Two is a firm supporter of the Capitol. They feed us, they pay us, they train us, and they favor us. You might have some sway over the small group of people that have lost friends and loved ones in the Games, but even that's a bit of a stretch."

"We had sway over you." Enobaria pointed out.

"We're outliers," I said quietly, still looking at the map. "We were guaranteed something and never received it. Promises like that shouldn't be broken." I addressed Beetee once more. "A total military takeover won't work without mass casualties, citizen and soldier alike. You'll have to start from the inside and work your way out. I suggest the Victors and the children and teenagers that frequent the Training Center. The Victors are well-trusted and the trainees are impressionable, and are willing to follow the Victors. Get the youth and all of the Victors and you'll be able to take over easy."

"Bold." Enobaria mused. "You think we have that much influence?"

"I'm sure of it." I replied. "You're idolized by the trainees. By influencing them, you'll influence the children that aren't as fortunate as the ones that usually train as well, and then their parents might be persuaded eventually. It'll take time and a lot of patience, but trust me, it'll work best."

Part of me was wondering why I was helping them. They hadn't saved Cato and Clove. I should've let them figure it out for themselves. That part of me didn't want to help, it wanted to sit back and let them do what they wanted. Another part of me was thinking that it was what Cato would have wanted. The little part that felt closer to him by helping made me think that it might be worth it.

They were still talking. Beetee was writing down my ideas while Haymitch and the others discussed the probability of getting the majority of District Two on "our" side. I knew it was next to hopeless; they wouldn't go against the Capitol. Still, their persistence and their optimism were both admirable.

The problem was that I knew my district. I knew the land, knew the jobs, knew the facts. The Peacekeepers and the civilians, the trainees and the benefactors, the laborers and the fighters, the Victors and the dead--I knew them all. And I knew that very few would side with the resistance right away, and that a smaller amount would slowly trust this group so determined to save our country.

Even the Victors were blinded by this group, with their "pure" and "good" motivations. They were in firm agreement with Beetee and Haymitch. The exceptions were Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair, and Ren.

Annie didn't seem too involved in anything happening; in fact, she seemed far more interested in Finnick. I knew that Annie was crazy, that she'd had the sanity driven out of her by the Games, but she didn't act crazy. I'd seen plenty of Victors driven mad by the Games, yet Annie seemed fine, and--I would never have said this aloud--even sane. She just had a faraway, dreamlike look in her eyes.

Finnick seemed invested in what was going on, but a shadow occasionally passed over his face, something like doubt. I knew he was studying me out of the corner of his eye. Not judging, but trying to fit me together like a puzzle, almost like he'd known me before and recognized me but couldn't quite put together the how and the when.

Ren seemed the most doubtful of the Victors. His expression didn't directly show it, but it was one I recognized from his grandsons.

The five Marcelluses in the room were wearing matching expressions. The brothers kept exchanging cryptic looks. Bell kept looking at Leah to make silent comments. Ren just stared at the screen, his chin resting in his hand. Sometimes, he looked over at his grandsons and cocked an eyebrow at them.

Saylee and Jake weren't speaking for everyone to hear. They'd either whisper their comment or share it with a hard look. Most times, it was the latter. Part of me wondered what they were saying, but based on their expressions, it was easier to guess.

The call ended with me knowing little more than what I'd started out knowing. It was not the fault of the others; it was mine for not listening well. Not that I'd genuinely cared for what they'd had to say, anyway. It was hard for me to fully invest myself in anything anymore. I briefly wondered if that part of me had been broken.

The Victors left, and when they were gone, the rest of us slowly made our way out as well. Ren seemed exhausted, so we went without being asked.

Alone once more, flickering streetlights were my guide home.