Victor by Night | Finnick Odair

Till Death do us Part : 13

Chapter Thirteen

Portia arrives with the dawn, and I know Finnick will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. "See you soon," he says.

"See you soon," I answer.

Portia, who will help dress me for the Games, accompanies me to the roof. I'm about to mount the ladder to the hovercraft when I remember. "I haven't seen Gerard since last night."

"Neither have I," says Portia.

The electric current freezes me in place on the ladder until the doctor injects the tracker into my left forearm. Now they will always be able to locate me in the arena.

The hovercraft takes off, and I look out the windows until they black out. Portia keeps pressing me to eat and, when that fails, to drink. I manage to keep sipping water, thinking of the days of dehydration that almost killed me last Games. Thinking of how I will need my strength to keep myself alive; I'm going in with only one ally, after all... Gerard.

My head begins to hurt at the thought of Finnick not wanting to be my ally. The thought of me going to him for backup only to get a trident in the heart. What if I am just his easy kill? What if he's been playing me this whole time for a good show in the Games?

When we reach the Launch Room at the arena, I shower. Portia leaves my hair down my back and helps me dress over simple undergarments. This year's tribute outfit is a fitted black jumpsuit, made of very sheer material, that zippers up the back. A six-inch-wide padded belt covered in shiny silver plastic. A pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles.

"What do you think?" I ask, holding the fabric out for Portia to examine.

She frowns as she rubs the thin stuff between her fingers. "I don't know. It will offer little in the way of protection from cold or water."

"Sun?" I ask, memories of the burning sun over a barren desert themed Arena. Would Snow really go that far to make me relive my worst days?

"Possibly. If it's been treated," she says.

"My dress was fantastic last night," I say. Fantastic and beautiful.

"I thought you might like it," she says with a tight smile.

We sit, as we did years ago, holding hands until the voice tells me to prepare for the launch. She walks me over to the circular metal plate and zips up the neck of my jumpsuit securely. "Remember, Daughter of the Capitol," she says, "Avenge him..." She kisses my forehead and steps back as the glass cylinder slides down around me.

"Thank you," I say, although she probably can't hear me. I lift my chin, holding my head high the way she always tells me to, and wait for the plate to rise. But it doesn't. And it still doesn't.

I look at Portia, raising my eyebrows for an explanation. She just gives her head a slight shake, as perplexed as I am. Why are they delaying this?

Suddenly the door behind her bursts open and three Peacekeepers spring into the room. Two pin Portia's arms behind her and cuff her, while dragging her from the room. Behind her, four more Peacekeepers move to take their place. Between one of them is my only ally going into the games, thrashing and shouting for them to release him... Gerard. And between the other two, stands my greatest enemy of all...

President Snow.

Gerard looks at me for an explanation as they let him go, but his eyes roll to the back of his head as one of the Peacekeepers hits him in the temple with such force he's knocked to his knees. But they keep hitting him with metal-studded gloves, opening gashes on his face and body.

I'm screaming my head off, banging on the unyielding glass, trying to reach him. The Peacekeepers ignore me completely as they drag Gerard's limp body from the room. All that's left are the smears of blood on the floor.

And President Snow just waves with a smile.

Sickened and terrified, I feel the plate begin to rise. I'm still leaning against the glass when the breeze catches my hair and I force myself to straighten up. Just in time, too, because the glass is retreating and I'm standing free in the arena. Something seems to be wrong with my vision. The ground is too bright and shiny and keeps undulating. I squint down at my feet and see that my metal plate is surrounded by blue waves that lap up over my boots. Slowly I raise my eyes and take in the water spreading out in every direction.

I can only form one clear thought.

I don't know how to swim.