Sarrel said we would get there in a week or so. I'm glad to get out of this forest and it's only been a day. Sixty five if I'm counting the time I spent in the lake house.
I'm down by the steam. The cool, clean water washes away all the traces of mud and ash from my skin.
The grime reminds me of the zoo and the arena and the bombs that went off. The Games. I scrub it off, harder than reasonable, rubbing my skin red-raw. I'm glad. I would do anything to erase the memories of the Games. Coriolanus? I don't know.
He's a snake. Dangerous. Manipulative. Deadly. In the arena he kept me alive. Was it because he couldn't cope with me dead? No. He was glad, almost willing to kill me in the forest with no one watching. He kept me alive but it wasn't for me. It was for him. There must have been something, some sort of award for the mentor if their tribute won. It all makes sense. The rat poison given to me in his mother's compact. He gave me his most treasured possession so there would be trust between us. So I wouldn't doubt his motives. And what was that thing with the rainbow snakes? Why didn't they attack me like they did with the rest of the tributes? I have a way with snakes but certainty not unnatural ones. Did they know my scent somehow? And what exactly was Coriolanus doing in 12? Training as a Peacekeeper? I don't believe it for a second. After all his time spent in academia, all the time invested in him? Someone must have found out about the snakes. Of course, they knew about the compact. Searched me after the Games and there was no way I could conceal it. I lied though. To protect him. Well there's no way I'm going to do that again. Ever.
I'm not going to forget him. Not really. But I'm going to make him pay for what he's done and what he will do in the future. Not just to me but to all of Panem. There's no stopping what he has the ability to do. Once a snake, always a snake. This won't be the last time he sees me.
I've been up since dawn but I'm not tired. Honestly, I can't sleep. Not with everything that's been going on. I wonder what life would have been like if the mayor hadn't read my name at the reaping. Would I be safe in 12? Probably. I'd be with the Covey now. I would just be Lucy Gray, lead singer of the Covey. Not the Victor. Would Coriolanus fallen in love with the girl. I don't know. I did make an impression right from the start. That's something not many people can do.
I collapse onto the floor of the forest and lean against the branch of a tree. The bark is hard and cold against my skin and the dew on the leafy forest floor dampens my dress and legs but I don't mind. The birdsong fills me with hope and peace. The forest has become a place of tranquil. I want to stay here forever.
***
Over the week, I learn more about 9 and in return, Sarrel learns more about 12. There's only one obvious topic he's stayed away from. I know it's coming though and today is the day. We both don't know if we'll get this peace an privacy in 13. If it exists. Part of me wishes it didn't. Spending all this time in the wilderness is nice. Sarrel makes it nicer too.
"So. The Hunger Games. What was it like?" He breaks the easy silence.
"Awful. I wish I wasn't reaped. Did you watch it?"
"Part of it. Electricity isn't reliable. And I had to work during the day so I only watched it in the evenings. Not very eventful. I saw your reaping though. I loved the part when you put a snake in that girl's dress. Going away in style. Who was she?"
"The mayor's daughter. Mayfair. We were enemies. She was a bitch. Stuck up little girl. I think her father purposely read my name out at the reaping."
"Goodness. She must really hate you."
"Yeah. We'll she's gone now." I leave out the part where she's dead.
"You looked beautiful in your rainbow dress. And your voice and the song you sang was lovely." Sarrel says in a dreamy tone.
I chuckle awkwardly. I'm flattered, really but I can't think of Sarrel in that way. He's too good and I can't end up breaking his heart.
It turns out Sarrel has barely watched any of it so I recount the days in the Capitol zoo and the time in the arena. How I arrived in a stinking cattle truck. It's clear the Capitol hates us. We are just another piece in their Games. They think of is districts as animals. We are uncivilized. Barbaric. Savage. It's ironic because that's exactly how we think of them. Sadistic people who enjoy children killing each other.
I mention Coriolanus as my mentor and tell Sarrel that he was a bit pushy and stuck up. I omit the kisses and the moments of sweetness. I want that to remain hidden forever and then forgotten about. I don't wish it ended differently though between us. We both know what the other is like. Our trust was based on manipulation and greed.
I tell Sarrel the Games from my point of view although I would like nothing more than forget the time in there. It's painful to account. The moment the Games started, I got out of sight. I was in no position to fight. I've never held a weapon before and I wasn't exactly the strongest. Hunger drains you. I hid in the freezing tunnels and behind the stands. It was terrifying. There were bloodstaines from previous games. Obviously the place had never been cleaned. There was always the stench of death and misery. Some of the tributes went absolutely rabid in that arena. Jessup and I became allies. He was kind and strong and reminded me of home. There was only one secondary school in 12 so I saw him sometimes in the corridors, although we never spoke. He protected me but then he caught rabies. We were both hidden so there was no way our mentors could send us supplies. That was the first time I made an appearance, him hot on my trails. He lost his mind and died. Inside, I was devastated. He was from home after all and we could have been friends if we weren't reaped.
The tributes dropped down quickly and I had my rat poison. I was starving and thirsty, I hadn't eaten or drank properly since home. The only times I could get food and water was when I revealed myself and came out of my hiding place. At some points, I really wanted to give up.
When the rainbow snakes entered the arena I thought that was it. It may have well been. It was my final chance to make an impression. Make sure the audience remembers me. My voice filled the arena and the snakes surrounded me. Inside, I was losing it but I tried to remain calm. I needed sponsors after all. They didn't attack me, instead they became my new rainbow dress.
The last tributes died and I was crowned Victor. I would have never believed it. Maybe the odds were in my favour. I never thought I'd see home again. I wasn't treated any differently though. No food or water. It was just straight on the stinking cattle truck home.
I was beyond happiness when I saw the Covey. When I said goodbye to them after the reaping, I prepared myself to never see them again. Well turned out I was wrong. My homecoming was made special by 12. I was their first Victor and we celebrated and caught up in the Hob. After the celebration the night I came home, I never talked about the Hunger Games again. Until now.
I notice I'm shaking somehow and my expression is twisted into a grimace like it's physically painful to talk about the Games. Sarrel wraps his arms around me and I hesitate before stepping into them. I feel so safe and warm and at peace being with Sarrel. It's a lifetime away from the Games and Capitol and all things connected.
***
It's mid afternoon when I see the cleaning through the trees. A mess of rubble and destruction awaits. Could this really be 13? Everything about this place screams death. A tall fence with barbed wire sits at the top so there's no way we can get through. The bottom is chained to the ground with steel plates so we can't burrow under.
"Maybe walk around, see if there's anything?" suggests Sarrel lamely.
"Okay." It's the best we've got. What other choice do we have?
We skirt around the fence and find nothing. I feel like I'm going to break. I didn't spend two weeks in the wild for this end. I feel worse for Sarrel. He's the one who spent a month on the run.
"We could always wait? They have to come out at some point." I say, desperately trying to remain optimistic for both of us.
"Good idea," Sarrel replies in a monotone.
"Hey look! Someone!" I gesture to a figure. I gently shake Sarrel who has sat down, crouched, with his head between his legs.
"Hey! Over here!" We shout to catch their attention. The person notices us and cautiously approaches.
He is short, old and balding but still appears authoritative. His clothes are grey and seem to suck the life out of him even more. He's carrying a gun. Instinctivly, we put our hands up.
"We come in peace. We have no weapons. Nothing. We just want you to help us. Please. We're desperate," pleads Sarrel.
"Hand me your bags," he says in a raspy voice. Begrudgingly, we hand them over. They contain our only possessions and we both do not want to lose what little things we have left.
"What are your names?" the man asks us.
This is it then.
What is my name? Good question. Do I tell him my real name? The one that links me to District 12 and the Hunger Games and Coriolanus Snow?
Sarrel goes first.
"My name is Fennel Ashgrove."
The man turns to look at me.
"My name? My name is Alma Coin."
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So this is it! This is what I thought after I read the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes!
What if Lucy Gray Baird is alive and she is Alma Coin?
In Mockingjay, Katniss describes Coin as being fifty or so. If Lucy Gray is Alma Coin then she would be 80 in Mockingjay. But this plot hole is fixed later in this story so look out for more updates!