The Capitol seal appears on the large plasma screen and the national anthem plays. I'm sitting in an elevated chair beneath the bright hot auditorium lights with a vast map of Panem projected behind me. Snow stands at his podium with the familiar white rose tucked into his breast pocket of his charcoal grey suit. His snake-like tongue wetting his dry cracked lips as he greets the nation with open arms. Oblivious, I scan the crowd for Lavinia, Portia and Effie. Like Darius, they never returned to the penthouse after my last interview. Which means they were held captive somewhere in the dungeons of the Capitol. If not in Snow's mansion itself.

That's when I see them. They're watching from a booth, accompanied by lavishly dressed Capitol stylists and their extravagant diamond-studded entourage. Effie sits closest to the stage, wearing a light blue gown; her curly blonde hair adorned with little blue butterflies. Portia sits beside her in classic black, proudly wearing her rhinestone choker and a cold-hearted stare. And Lavinia sits beside Portia, in a shimmering red gown with long red gloves hiding her scar. When Lavinia catches my eye, her rosy tear-glazed face lights up and she gives Portia's hand a squeeze. But Portia doesn't dare snatch her gaze from Snow; as if one look at me may crack her protective shell and unleash a flood of tears or worse pure unadulterated fury.

The eyes of Panem turn to me, an entire nation leaning forward in their seats. I clear my throat, adjust my tie and demand a ceasefire. My voice is shakes as I highlight damage done to key infrastructure in various districts. And parts of the map light up, showing images of the destruction: a broken dam, a derailed train with a pool of toxic waste spilling from tank cars, a granary collapsing in a fire. Under the treacherous glare of Snow, I blame the chaos on the infamous Mockingjay and her rebel armada.

Without warning, Katniss is on television standing in the dusty rubble of my parents' bakery. A pang hits me in the chest, sheer shock rendering me speechless. As images are projected on screen, a wave of frantic whispers sweep through the auditorium. The words fumble out of my mouth as I struggle to fixate their attentions on the bombing of a water purification plant. Suddenly I hear a familiar voice and my jaw drops to the ground. Finnick O'Dair is no longer the charming green eyed Victor of District Four. But a soldier of the rebellion, his face no linger bearing that healthy glow but hollow, exhausted and grief-stricken. Finnick is over shadowed as the broadcast deteriorates and is bombarded with photos. I can hear Snow's frantic technicians struggling to control the broadcast then the Capitol seal flashes across the television again. Through restrained anger, Snow plows through his speech and asks if I have any last words for Katniss. My face contorts at the sound of her name on his bloody lips and I gaze into the camera again, mustering every ounce of courage I can.

"Katniss...how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts." My voice shakes as I imagine the burning of twelve and the districts of Panem, "And you... in thirteen..." I inhale a sharp breath, feeling the noose around Lavinia's neck tighten in Snow's cold wrinkled hands. "Dead by morning!" The Capitol people let out a strangled gasp.

"End it!" Snow orders from the booth as the television is flooded with photos of Katniss. The stage is in chaos, the camera is knocked over as guards swarm in.

I'm hauled to my feet, throwing punches when a gun knocks me in the jaw and I cry out in pain, smacking my face hard on the floor. Blood and spit spew from my mouth and splatter on the tiles. Strangely a wild and untamed rage engulfs me as memories of Snow beating Darius to death flicker in my mind's eye. With a rush of adrenaline, I kick a guard hard in the knees and he plummets to the floor. Hovering over him, my hand curls around his collar. The blow of my fist unleashes a deafening sound as I punch him again and again. His face swells with plump bruises and my knuckles are coated in blood.

When I hear bones breaking, a dark chuckle escapes and curls my lips into a smirk. Hands lock around me from behind and I'm thrust back-ward onto my feet. A guard strides toward me but I jut my foot out. He stumbles, clutching his stomach and groaning. I lunge and headbutt him in the nose. The guard tumbles, hauling two more to the ground. Knocking my head back, I stun the guard and his grip around me slackens. Elbowing him, I feel the crack of a rib and the he howls out in pain. Gritting my teeth, I grab his arm and flip him over my shoulder. He crashes to the floor and curls into a ball. I'm reaching for his gun when the sound of gun fire makes me flinch. I suck in a sharp breath, bracing myself for the pain.

But it's Effie's cry that shreds my very nerves. My gaze diverts from the guard at my feet to Effie who falls to her knees. Portia lays on the stage quivering, her red hair cascading over her face. Tears gush down Effie's pale cheeks and her hands tremble violently as she lays Portia across her lap. "Portia..." She whispers but her voice barely registers over the sound of my heartbeat raging in my chest. Suddenly Effie hands are smothered as she clutches the spot where the bullet has punctured Portia's chest.

The scream begins in my lower back and works its way up through my body only to jam in my throat. I'm an Avox mute, choking on my grief. Even if I could release the muscles in my neck, let the sound tear into space, would anyone hear it? The room's in an uproar and people are fleeing the auditorium. Every muscle in my body itches to lash out, my hands shake as I battle rage and heartache. But I'm frozen to the spot. Portia's name is on the tip of my tongue when heavy hands clamp down on my shoulders and I'm dragged off stage, unable to tear my gaze from Effie who cradles Portia in a pool of blood glistening under the sparkle of lights.

I'm shoved into the eerie corridor once more and the huge auditorium doors lock behind us but my ears are still plagued with frantic screams. Glancing around, I expect to see Lavinia in her beautiful red dress with her hands bound by cuffs. But she's vanished without a trace. Instead Snow lurks in the shadows wearing a coy smile with the white rose twirling around his finger. "I warned you Mr Mellark," Snow muses, strolling toward me. His snake-like eyes unwavering as if desperate not to miss a second of my reaction. He's standing so close I can smell the blood on his breath.

"You disgust me!" I spit in his face, lunging at him in my chains but the guards have an iron grip on me. "I eagerly await the day Katniss shoots an arrow through your head!" Snow's face contorts into a grimace, his eyes narrow darkened. In this moment, I lust for a merciful bullet. But a cruel smile curls Snow's lips as he back-hands me across the face. The sheer force of the slap buckles my knees. The pain is blinding and jagged flashes of light flicker across my vision. I black out with only the taste of blood and tears in my mouth.

My ears buzz with the an unbearable numbing sensation as I wake. Dizzy and disoriented, my body aches as I move. Suddenly my fingers lace through hot grains of sand. Coughing, I spit blood and clutch my head, pulsing with a migraine. The numbness thaws and a shiver runs through me as the noise breaks through my grogginess. I open my eyes and blink, blinded by the sun beating down on me. Something moves in the corner of my eye and my body tenses, agile and alert. A woman in white with luxurious ginger curls materializes from the shimmering haziness. She's twitching with tears gushing down her cheeks as black birds swarming around her.

My face drains of colour, "Annie!" I scream, kicking up sand as I hurtle toward her. I smack the air with such force I'm thrust back and the wind is knocked out of me. The impact of the blow ignites sparks and suddenly I realize I'm trapped in a transparent cage. Crawling into my knees, I scream Annie's name and pound my fists against the hard smooth surface. I hear her cries as the jabber-jays bite her, sprouting droplets of blood, but she can't hear me.

Without warning, Finnick crashes out of the jungle as orange monkeys chase after him, hackles raised and howling. Finnick's eyes flicker with fear and relief as he sees me. But he smacks the cage and trident knocked from his hand. Finnick lets out a small yelp and crawls to his knees. It's then that I see blood trickling down his suit from a broken nose. The monkeys leap from the trees onto the beach. As if a reflex, Finnick snatches his up his trident and with each stab, a monkey plummets to the sand. Dead.

The sharp screech of metal pierces my ears, making me wince. Cringing, I tear my gaze from Finnick as the monkeys converge on him. Desperately, I search the beach and the dense jungle. What is it? I demand, my eyes dilating as the arena comes into focus. Blue water, pink sky and Johanna. She's standing on a pedestal off shore, wielding her axe ferociously as golden tentacles rise from the sea and wrap around her ankles. With each swing of the axe, a slimy tentacle is severed from the creature only to regrow another. Trapped by her fear of water, she'll drown or be eaten alive before she can swim to shore.

Falling back into the sand, I thrust my hands over my ears, desperate to drown out the treacherous symphony of sounds. Without warning, I hear a soft harmonious giggle. My head snaps to Annie, who now sits in a pool of her own blood. But she's paralyzed in shock, drained of colour and emotion. Strangely, I notice the shells scattered around her. My gaze wanders up the tree and my heart skips a beat.

Katniss sits in the tree, with a perfect view of the chaos, eating the mystery nuts and giggling deliriously. Her bright red eyes dart to me suddenly and my body convulses in fear and fury. Tossing the nuts, Katniss arms her bow and shoots an arrow at the cage, igniting sparks. The rush of adrenaline makes me nauseous. The crack of bones sends a shiver through me. Snapping my head around, I gaze at Finnick. It's not until the knife falls from his hand and thick blood pollutes the sand that I realize the monkeys have cracked his skull.

Suddenly the ground jerks and sand trickles into the earth. With a sharp zap, the cage shatters. Shielding my face from the shards, I wince as glass cuts my bare arms. The monkeys howl, retreating into the jabber-jays squawk and disperse into thin air. Crawling on my hands and knees, I whisper Annie's name and take her head in my hands. Her once emerald green irises have darkened into bottomless orbs. The blue veins beneath her pale skin protrude to the surface, blackened by poison. Her corpse disintegrates into embers until dead ashes slip through my fingers.

The world spins fast, incredibly fast. Bracing myself, I dig into the sand and hold on. Lightning cracks, wind whips across my face and the sky darkens with thunder clouds. The world bursts into flames, trees wither succumbed to wildfire and burn to ashes. The heat is horrendous, but worse is the smoke. I pull the collar of my sweat-soaked shirt over my nose and squeeze my eyes shut.

A sharp ring pierces my ears, waking me from unconsciousness. My body aches as I writhe on the hard ground beneath me. Snapping my eyes open, I realize immediately the once sandy beach is now a paved cobblestone street. My throat is sore and with each inhale of jagged breath, I suffocate. Coughing hoarsely, I free the smoke from my lungs and brush off the thin layer of soot. My eyes widen in shock as the world materializes from the smoke. The square plagued by a whipping post splattered with dry blood, the smoldering marble of the Justice Building, the sizzle of burning embers. District twelve is on fire. The smell of dead hearts and incinerated flesh makes me gag. Screaming people, bleeding people, dying people scatter frantically, fleeing. Bombs obliviated what once was the Seam and now is a city of collapsed buildings in charred heaps. The fires at the coal mines belch black smoke in the distance.

Strangely, a suspiciously ordinary silver parachute falls from the sky and lands in the center of the square. Without warning, the parachute explodes. The sound busts my eardrums but it's the sheer force that knocks the ground out from under me. Crashing into a pile of bricks, I howl out in pain. Gasping for air, I feel the warm ooze of blood trickling down my spine and shudder. I sit paralyzed for several minutes until the numbness thaws to a throbbing ache. Gritting my teeth, I suck in a deep breath and cringe, mustering every ounce of strength to heave myself out of the rubble. A searing pain shoots up my spine as I stand.

That's when I hear my name. My gaze darts to a little bakery scorching in flames. Stumbling across the square, my eyes sting and water. The roof of the bakery has collapsed and the window display is barricaded by fallen beams but the heavy wooden door is still secured to its hinges. My hand clasps around the knob and I cry out, gazing at the blistering pink burn in the palm of my hand. Uttering a curse under my breath, I clench my hand into a fist and jut out my elbow, breaking a window. My breath catches in my throat as my father's striking blue eyes meet mine. Blood trickles down his temple from a gash across his wrinkled brow. I reach through the window and grab his hand. But it's too small for even I to climb through. My gaze flickers back and forth, trying desperately to decipher an escape route but suddenly I'm peering over my father's shoulder.

Three blonde haired bodies lay dead, buried beneath feet of rubble, coated in blood and flour as the fire blazes from every crevice of our home. My heart aches as I gaze at my family and a strangled sob shakes me to my very core. The crackling of wood frightens me. Scanning the ceiling, I realize the last standing beam will collapse any second, swallowing my father in a sea of flames. My father smiles softly and plants a single kiss on my forehead; his hand pink with burns slips from mine as he backs into the flames. I'm screaming now, kicking the door ferociously. The beam snaps and right before my eyes my home succumbs to the fire. Stumbling back, I fall to my knees and cry, choking on my grief.

Scores of parachutes rain down from the sky. Children emerge from the school, eagerly for food, medicine and gifts. They scoop them up and fiddle with the strings, seconds pass and without warning twenty parachutes simultaneously explode. A wail escapes my lips as the square is bombarded with tiny bloody bodies. Some children die instantly from the blast, others crawl through the crumbling cobblestones, crying out in agony. From the smoldering vestiges of the Justice Building, a flock of white uniforms sweep into the chaos. But they aren't Peacekeepers; they swarm in among the children, wielding medical kits.

Strangely, I catch a glimpse of the blonde plait down her back. Then as she yanks of her coat to cover a crying child, I see the duck tail of her untucked shirt. Heart pounding and adrenaline pumping through me, I limp across the square, shouting her name. I'm so close when she hears me. Just for a second she sees me. And that's when the rest of the bombs explode.

The blast knocks me into the rubble, the fire licking my bare arms and burning the edges of my clothes. Coughing uncontrollably, I stumble across the square and fall to my knees. "Prim." I whisper, through my sobs. Slowly, I cradle her fragile bleeding body in my arms and brush the blonde hair from her porcelain face. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is painstakingly shallow. But she's alive. "Prim." I whisper, rocking her slowly. She shudders, breathing one last breath and her body goes limp.

As the smoke clears, I notice the dead bodies scattered across the square, burnt and bloody. A child stumbles through the wreckage, shivering and calling someone's name. Suddenly an arrows shoots through the child's head and he plummets to the ground. I follow the arrow to the roof and my heart rages beneath my chest. Katniss stands atop a building armed with her bow, targeting anything still breathing.

"KATNISS!" I growl, shuddering with rage as I pace. A bag of coal catches my eye, I striding over, I grab the handle and throw it high and hard over my shoulder. Katniss is quick, dodging the flying coals but loses her balance and tumbles down the side of the building. Her bow escapes her grip as she dangles from the gutter. As I storm toward her, Katniss plummets to the ground, rolling over and gasping in pain. Her eyes dart to me and panicking, crawls toward her bow. She cries out when my foot snaps it in half and I kick her hard. She yelps hoarsely and clutches her stomach. I climb over her, pinning her down with my weight. A dark chuckle escapes me as I slowly scrape a long shard of glass across her cheek. Thick red Blood spews from the gash and she begs me for mercy. A boulder of cement catches my eye. As I reach for it, Katniss squirms and shrieks beneath me. I'm raising it above her head when the scuffle of boots startles me.

"Peeta," Someone whispers, shaking my shoulder. I jerk awake, gazing at a pair of Seam grey eyes. My first instinct is to lunge but the chains restrain the impulse. But it's not the mutt of my nightmares.

"Gale?" I whisper, my voice husky. He was the same tall, broad shouldered man with a scowl etched across his face. But he wore a soldier's uniform, branded with the infamous mockingjay symbol and held a large gun. Gale gazed at me tensed with his brow furrowed, as if he's seen a ghost. Strangely, a simmer of agitation, relief and anger coils in the pit of my stomach. I sigh and relax in the chair. The shackles chimed, brushing against metal snatching Gale's attention.

"Where are those keys?" Gale growls as the Cage descends into the Chamber. A soldier strolls in, wearing a uniform identical to Gale's. Standing before me, both men gazed in confusion at the ring of little silver keys. I'd watched with the same perplexity as the guards chained me into the chair. Truth be told, the shackles were as sophisticated as the torture itself. There were a total of twenty small keys. The trick was finding the locks, because they were impressively camouflaged and only revealed when the specific key was aligned.

Having watched the guards, I guide the soldier, with the name 'JACKSON' stamped onto a patch on his left breast pocket. My legs were first and when the heavy chains clunked to the tiled floor, still stained in Darius' blood, we simultaneously exhaled a breath we didn't realize we were holding. The air of light-hearted relief vanishes the second my knees are unlocked. Slowly, Gale removes the chains and I groan, relishing the weight off my body. Gale's eyes widen, gazing at the belt of pink wounds and pricks of blood stained on the thin white cotton. Once completely freed, I rubbed my wrists, still pink from the handcuffs and turn to Gale but before I can open my mouth, the Cage descends into the Chamber once more.

Eight rebel soldiers stand on the platform wearing uniforms branded with the mockingjay and holding guns. An older man whose uniform featured several badges converses strategy with another soldier. Annie whispers quietly with a soldier, who tightens a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and Johanna stealthily steals a knife from a soldier's belt and tucks it into her waistband. When Annie's eyes lock on mine, her cheeks flushed pink and her dimples showed.

"Annie!" I chuckle as she leaps from the Cage and runs into my embrace. She hugs me tightly,knocking me a little off balance and I bury my face in her curls.

When she finally releases me, she holds my cheeks in her palms. "Do you know these people?" She whispers, peering suspiciously over her shoulder at the armed soldiers.

"They're here to rescue us." I whisper back in her ear and smile as Johanna playfully elbows me in the ribs. She gives me a sheepish grin and pull her body into my embrace and kiss her forehead.

The older man whose name is Boggs glances in my direction and strides toward me. "Mr Mellark," He commands in a tone that demands all our attentions. "On the behalf of the citizens and refugees of District Thirteen, I salute you. You saved many lives." He says and raises a firm hand to his temple. The soldiers line in a row and do the same, even Gale looks proud. Yes I saved lives but I put my loved ones at risk to do so, I think but only nod.

"How are we getting out of here?" I ask, cutting to the chase.

"We've devised a route using the catacombs." Boggs says, tapping a button on his watch and a hologram materializes from thin air. A map of the building lights up, blinking with green dots indicating our warm bodies. A red line traces through the underground tunnels leading directly out the Chamber. Suddenly the camouflaged door opens in the white room and Frankie and Bennie emerge. Every loaded gun aims in their direction, little red lasers targeted to their chests. Frank raises his hands in surrender but Bennie's clasp the gun in its holster. There's a tension in the air at the strange stand off.

Boggs commanding voice breaks the silence, "At ease soldiers. They're one of us." The soldiers lower their guns and Frank strides toward Boggs with relief etched across his face.

"Commander," Frank gives Boggs a salute. "The catacombs are clear but my men can only buy you minutes before Snow knows they've escaped." My heart sputters with the thought of Snow. Boggs nods and purses his lips.

"You only have one shot," Bennie says rather defiantly catching all our attentions, "Snow's guards won't hesitate." The tension in the Camber is suddenly suffocating. The soldiers look to one another as if realizing that this rescue mission could go sour at any moment and cost their lives.

"The fate of the rebellion rests with this mission." Boggs says in a voice that could lead a nation. "We alone are responsible. Let's make the Mockingjay proud."

And with that we file out of the Chamber into the narrow corridor. Boggs and Frank lead, guided by the hologram. Annie, Johanna and I are clustered in the middle. Gale and Jackson are closest to me, their guns raised slightly and Bennie heads up the back. It takes my eyes mere seconds to adjust to the near darkness. Small spotlights hang from the ceiling around the maze of pipes and wiring. The soft shuffle of boots and breathing is the only noise above the hiss of steam above our heads. As we walk, I notice the doors and shudder wondering what horrors lie in those Chambers. That's when I hear a sound, no louder than a whisper but raises the hairs on my body. I notice a light coming from under a door and hear the stomach-lurching noise that I only associate with Darius.

I grit my teeth as we pass, but the cry of agony shreds my very nerves. With a huff, I spin on my heel, budging my shoulder against Gale's. Bursting through that door, no amount of bracing myself could extinguish the sheer shock of what was right before my eyes. Lavinia lies on a metal table in her beautiful red dress. Wires are taped to her temples, hooking her up to a machine that beeps erratically as her body convulses in a cold sweat with her eyes shut tight. Without warning, Lavinia's tremors cease and the beeping flatlines. Fear and adrenaline kick-start my heart and with a jolt, I lunge for her. But arms are thrust around me.

"Peeta it's too late." Gale says through gritted teeth, struggling to withstand my strength.

"I can save her!" I cringe, writhing against in his locked arms. I don't want to hurt you Gale, but you're giving me no choice. Sucking in a breath, I knock my head back. Gale cries out stunned as my head collides violently with his chin. Wielding all my strength, I rustle myself from his grip and stumble across the room as he curses himself to oblivion. Suddenly I'm paralyzed, gazing down at Lavinia. Jaded with guilt, I fight the urge to hold her as if she were asleep. Slowly, I pluck the wires from her body and the noise ceases immediately. I smooth out her dress and place her hands in her lap. Kissing three fingers, I raise them into the air. In this moment, I say goodbye to: Lavinia, whose scar was beautifully tragic; Portia, who protected me with her life; and Darius, whose death will not be in vain.

Sighing, I walk out of the torture chamber and close the door behind me. The squad of soldiers gaze at me with a look I can only describe as empathy. They bow their heads for a moment of silence. Gale's face is screwed up in a grimace as he grudgingly bows. Annie is teary, clutching her blanket with Johanna's arm around her shoulder. Anger bubbles up inside me and I'm suddenly overcome with the urge to punch someone.

"She's dead," I say defiantly, unable to hide the hatred in my voice. Heads snap up at me with guns loaded. "Let's go before we're next."

No one objects so we keep moving, maneuvering through the maze of tunnels that seem to stretch for miles. As we marched in silence, I struggle to focus on the route ahead, watching the little green dots blink on Boggs' hologram. But my mind is frazzled, flickering with flashbacks as our shadows dance off the black walls. Darius beaten to a pulp. Portia drench in a pool of her own blood. Lavinia sprawled out on the metal slab. In the darkest recesses of my tortured mind, Effie is trapped, suffering a horrific combination of their merciless deaths.

A door materializes at the end of the corridor. Boggs and Frank halt and the entire squad inhales a breath as they press their ears to the door. Gale tenses beside me gripping his gun with a vice and suddenly I feel defenseless. The hologram on Boggs' watch blinks with a dozen red dots scattered across the room. With a sharp nod and a clenched jaw, Frank slowly eases the door open. To our relief, the chitter-chatter of the guards overpowers the faint creak of the heavy metal hinges. The room is bigger than I'd imagined, cluttered with desks and computers. We huddle together, with Annie, Johanna and I in the center while the soldiers expertly maneuver around the edge of the room with their guns raised and deadly silent. The guards are oblivious, hunched over desks piled high with paperwork, typing away on keyboards or lounging around the coffee table relaxing and eating their lunches.

A group of guards catch my eye. I've seen dozens since my imprisonment but they were familiar. Squinting across the room, I suddenly realize why. One had a thin piece of white tape on the bridge of his broken nose, two's hands were plastered in bandages, three had long scratch marks engraved from his temple to his neck, four's face was purple and bruised with a black eye and a disfigured jaw and five was missing an ear. These are the guards I've attacked with my bare hands. A strange smirk curls my lips as I admire their injuries like a painter takes pride in his art.

Minutes pass incredibly slowly as we tiptoe on the edge of danger. Annie is cowering in fear, her body tense and rigid. Slowly, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into my side. Her anxiety thaws at my touch and with a sigh she smiles up at me. She's cold to the bone and clings to my warmth. Suddenly, we hear a soft sneeze. I tense and the squad freeze, arming their weapons. The air clouds with alarm as the guards glance around curiously. Peering down, I see Annie sniffling, wiping her nose on the blanket. The colour drains from her face as she realizes she's blown our cover.

A guard spot us suddenly and he shouts, catching the other's attention. But before his hand can wrap around the gun, a shot is fired and he falls to the floor dead. The room is in an uproar with guards scattering like roaches. Boggs yells for us to stay swift and keep our heads down. Gun shots echo off the walls, bullets bouncing off the computers, shattering glass, peppering the floor in shreds of paper. With every fire, my mind flashes back in time, to Portia bleeding out on the stage. Desperately, I scan the room for an escape and that's when I see the door. Adrenaline pumping through me, I yank Johanna and Annie under my arm and break out in a run, oblivious to Boggs and Frank who call after me. The squad disperse in every direction, targeting the swarm of guards. Dodging bullets, I fall to my knees and hastily wrangle a large gun from a dying guard. Johanna tugs Annie, whose hands are over her ears, up the small flight of stairs. I can barely hear Johanna's screams above the shots. Peering up, I see her frantically pounding on the door with her fist while Annie punches numbers into a keypad.

It's locked. I curse under my breath and bolt for them when out of the corner of my eye Gale gets shot in the shoulder. Gritting my teeth, I run for him and feel a bullet graze my cheek. Slinging the gun around my arm, I kneel and pull Gale to his feet.

"Gale, don't you dare die on me." I seethe, mustering all my strength. One hand around his waist we trudge up the stairs to the door.

Johanna and Annie steady Gale as I grab the gun. Standing back, I fire a round of bullets into the keypad, destroying it until its hanging off hinges and kick the door wide open. Hastily, I push Johanna, Annie and Gale into the cold. Harsh wind whips my face, sending a violent shudder through me. It's pitch black outside, the vast green lawn blanketed in thick white snow. A Capitol issue hover craft flashes its lights as Annie and Johanna trudge through the blizzard. Scanning the chaos of gun fire, upturned desks and dead bodies; I whistle and catch Jackson's attention. He's crouched in the corner, a layer of sweat on his brow and a desperation in his eyes. He shouts into his watch and the soldiers emerge from their hiding places. One by one, they sprint across the room, ducking and dodging the bullets.

Once we're all outside, I slam the door shut behind us and wedge the gun against the knob, locking the guards inside. Swiftly, the soldiers and I sprint across the lawn and climb into the hovercraft. I'm standing with one foot on the ledge when I feel prying eyes on the back of my neck. Peering over my shoulder, I gaze up at the president's mansion. The windows are dark but standing on the balcony illuminated by candle light is Snow. His snake-like eyes trained on me as if not to miss a second of our escape, with the white rose twirling around his finger.

Suddenly the stomach-churning smell of blood and roses invades my nose and every horrific nightmare flashes in my mind's eye: the jungle of orange carnivorous monkeys and skin-blistering fog, the jabberjays and sea creature on the beach, and the bombing of District twelve. He was there, lurking in the shadows. With a shudder, Haymitch's voice echoes in my ears, 'Insanity is like gravity, all you need is a little push'.

"Peeta?" Annie shakes me and with a jolt the world refocuses around me. She's gazing at with worry shining through those giant emerald eyes. "Are you alright?" She asks, placing a warm hand on my arm. The squad is buckled into the hovercraft, watching, waiting on me.

"Ugh, just a little dizzy," I lie, climbing in and locking the door shut behind me. I shuffle passed Annie and Johanna and take the window seat next to Jackson. The engine hums to life and the lights switch off as we're lifted off the ground. Gazing out the window, my eyes dart to the balcony but Snow has vanished without a trace and only the rose is left. I sigh, relaxing as the engine vibrates through my body and listen to the steady breathing of the soldiers.

"Damn you look like hell Mellark," Gale chides breaking the silence. He's sitting opposite me, the shoulder of his uniform soaked in blood with a smirk plastered across his face.

Agitation bubbles up inside me and I fight the urge to punch him. "Bite me." I warn, shooting him daggers and rubbing some heat into my cold hands.

"Don't fret bread boy," Gale taunts chuckling, "Those Capitol clowns will make you pretty again." He says, raising his hands in a 'no offense' gesture. Gritting my teeth, my gaze darts to his bloody shoulder.

"That's a nasty gash," I nod, sitting back in my seat; Gale shrugs, wearing the wound like a battle scar, "Portia wasn't so lucky." There's a blunt sarcasm in my voice, twinged with resentment, that I don't bother to hide.

"Peeta?" Annie whispers, snatching her gaze from the window; her face ghostly pale in the moonlight. A breath catches in my throat at the stark realization. Johanna's hands, feverishly trailing her thighs, freeze. Annie's lingering gaze sears a hole in my cheek so hot that I can't stand the burning and refuse to look at her. The entire craft succumbs into a eerie silence, each breath eager for the dirty little secret.

That's when I notice the wooden crate beside me. Raising an eyebrow, I steal the knife fastened to Jackson's belt and switch open the six inch blade. Jackson tenses beside me and a smile creeps into my face as his hand twitches for his gun. Even Gale looks intrigued. Thrusting the blade into a crack in the crate, I pry off the lid and let the wood clatter to the floor. Annie jumps, alarmed by the noise but I can only smile at the stash of gifts. Canned fruits, chocolates and candy, saltine crackers and potato chips, loaves of bread and cheese, bottles of water... Ah there she is. Tucked behind the first aid kit of medical supplies and stack of bandages is a bottle of white whiskey. Snatching up the bottle, I screw off the cap and take a gulp. The bitter alcohol slithers down my throat, lighting a simmering sweet fire in my bones. I lick my lips and swish the whiskey around in the now half empty bottle.

"Haymitch has rubbed off on you." Gale says, sounding rather impressed. A chuckle escapes me as I take another swig. My gaze darts to Johanna but she's fuming, her chest rising and falling like she's having a heart attack. She's slipping the knife from her belt and without warning she's lunging across the hovercraft at me.

"Johanna!" Annie shrieks by her sudden outburst. Gale jumps to his feet and wrestles a snarling Johanna. Jackson hastily struggles to pry the knife from her hand but she's waving it wildly like a rabid mutt.

"Sedate her!" Gale yells, heaving Johanna off the ground. Suddenly, a needle is plunged into her neck, her screams die and the knife falls to the ground. Johanna's body goes limp in Gale's arms and her eyes close as he tucks her into her seat.

Gale plops down before me, wiping his sweaty brow, "What the hell was that Mellark?" He growls, gazing at me.

"God knows," I hide my smile by sipping from the bottle, "It was brutal in there."

Gale's eyes narrow, darting from me to Annie, shocked-speechless, to an unconscious Johanna. He sighs, shaking his head. "Get some sleep, it's a long way to thirteen." He orders, closing his eyes.

Bathed in silence, I smile and gaze out the window. But it's Annie I see in the reflection. Confusion and pain flicker across her face. And for a second, it's as if she sees right through me. For a second, it's as if she knows the boy with the bread is gone.

I wake to the feel of hands on me, cold hands. A bright light blinds me as I open my eyes and bolt upright. My head is pounding and dizzy and I grab the bed to steady myself. A noise beeps in my ears as the world comes into focus and suddenly I realize I'm in a hospital ward. A trio of doctors in white coats survey me, checking my pulse and gawking at the burns on my chest. My breathing slows as I relax on the pillows.

It's then that I hear the scamper of feet. And suddenly my heart skips a beat. Standing in the doorway with that single braid and dark grey eyes as bottomless as the sea, is Katniss. Her cheeks are flush with colour and her eyes are teary. Leaping from the bed, my mind runs rampant. I want to kiss her, touch her, caress her, it chimes desperately. I want to kill her. She's smiling with open arms and my name on her lips when when my fingers lock around her throat.