I don't know who the woman was calling. There's no one was around to hear her. Perhaps she was just afraid.

Her house is luxurious and would be nice to stay in if we weren't in such a dire situation. But of course, we can't afford to stay. We're on the go.

"Do you think they're hot on our trail?" I ask.

"The explosion probably threw them off," Katniss says, ruffling my hair. "Smart thinking, little duck."

I look out the window and find hordes of people flooding the streets. We made it out of the evacuation zone. Now, we're in the Capitol. And though we may have no Holo, we have a Cressida. She knows our very location and how to navigate the streets.

"We aren't too far from Snow's mansion," she says.

None of us are in shape for a stealth attack. Gale has a bad scar on his neck, Rory's biting a pillow to contain a scream...Pollux cries silently in the corner while Katniss repairs our weapons. Cressida stands strong but she's so pale that her lips are bloodless.

Fortunately, the weather is very cold. We look through the wardrobe and throw on some wacky outfits on top of our normal clothes. The make up was harder, because we're wanted all over Panem. We cover ourselves in the disgusting makeup and it makes me miss my prep team. Perhaps one day, they will come to love their life in Thirteen. After the make up, we put on sunglasses, scarves, and whatever else may help us stay concealed. Just before we leave, I stash some cans of food and first aid supplies.

We get out on the street. A dozen or so peacekeepers go by, and we jump out of their way. Like all the citizens do. We pass a big screen when we realize our faces are flashing on it, rotating at five second intervals so that the citizens are well reminded of us. Not helping. Finnick and Castor are on there though, so they don't know who died. Not yet.

"Cressida, do you have anywhere we can go?" I ask.

"It's not ideal...but yes."

We cut through streets, alleys and buildings to get to a store that displays furry undergarments. No one's inside but a woman.

Cressida steps up. "Tigris, we need your help."

Tigrist has some strange features: tight pulled skin; a very flat snout-like nose; long whiskers growing from her cheeks; and a tattoo striped body. She looks like...a tiger. I wonder if her parents inspired her with the name or she changed it after undergoing surgery.

"Plutarch said we can trust you," Cressida says. Gah. She'll probably alert Plutarch, who'll alert Coin. It definitely isn't ideal but it's all we've got.

"Do you have a place we could stay?" I pipe up.

Tigris grows like Buttercup often does to Katniss. She and I exchange a look. Tigris then goes over to a rack of leggings and pushes it aside so we can see a trapdoor. She opens it up and reveals a steep staircase, gesturing for us to go down. It's not ideal. It's not. But we do it.

For a moment I consider if it's a trap. Why would she help us? Hatred, a need for revenge, I think. She was once a stylist. I remember now. She was banned from the games because of her wild look. She would help us. A need for revenge burns a long time, reinforced each time she looks into the mirror.

"Did Snow ban you?" I ask."Because I'm going to kill him."

Tigris' mouth stretches into something that resembles a smile.

I go down the stairs and pull a chain that turns on the lights. I look up and can barely make out Tigris pulling the trap door shut. I hear her pulling the rack back over it. Unless she turns us in, we're pretty safe.

Gale looks like he might collapse soon. I quickly walk over to a faucet at the end, which lies only a foot above the ground. It sputters for moment before spitting out clear water. It may not be the best, but it will work. I use the water to wash out Gale's wounds. Sanitation is more important than you think. The others strip him of weapons as I open up the first aid kid. I find some sterile thread and a needle. Perfect. I stitch him up in a matter of no time. Thank goodness I'm a healer.

Rory looks extremely tired, fighting back whatever is going on in his head. I wish I could take his place, take his pain away. He refuses to take his cuffs off. His wrists are bloody by choice. Says the pain helps him focus on the real world. I sigh and give him what he wants- to be tied to the stairs as he sleeps.

Cressida and Pollux set up the beds. We don't bother making shifts. Everyone's too tired. I lay down and stare at the dark and dusty ceiling. I am too tired to cry for everyone we've lost, but I go through the losses in my head. 8 in 24 hours. Boggs, Mitchell, Messalla, Jackson, Speckles, Castor, Homes and Finnick. Maybe if it weren't for me they'd all be alive, living their lives in 13.

Snow would still be in control, I think. This is what they want. And I will fight for our cause. I still feel terrible though. Other than Boggs and Mitchell, everyone else died for a mission that I made up, to assassinate Snow. I cry myself to sleep.

When I wake up, Cressida is the only one awake. I feel scared for a moment. She's our direction and commander now. We have no real battle expert. It's all me. When everyone else get's up, I spill about the lies out and they comfort me.

"We knew all along," they tell me.

A few long hours later, Tigris offers us some food.

"Come up, I have food," she says, a touch of a purr in her voice.

"Did you tell Plutarch?" I ask once we're all out.

"No, he probably knows you're safe."

Phew. He doesn't know. The plan will go on.

Tigris gives us some moldy cheese and stale bread. It's then that it dawns on me that the people from the Capitol may not be as well fed as I thought. This is war. Even the wealthy cannot sustain themselves during such a disaster.

"Do you want some of our emergency food?" I ask her. She denies, saying she only eats raw meat. Gross.

The television blinks on and they have narrowed the survivors down to the six of us. Bounties are made, and Snow tells everyone about how dangerous we are. There are clips of us exchanging fire with Peacekeepers, and an image of a bullet through the woman's heart. Beetee doesn't break in.

"Have the rebels come in at all today?" I ask.

Tigris shakes her head.

"Coin doesn't know what to do with me anymore, now that I'm alive."

"No one does, dolly, " Tigris purrs. She hands me a pair of expensive fur leggings to keep me warm in the cellar. All I can do is take them and thank her.

We all head down to sleep. I lay down with a sigh. It's been a long day. I'm at the brink of drifting asleep when I catch Rory's voice, talking to a mute Gale.

"She spends a lot of time with that other guy, you know? His name's Noah."

I know he's talking about me and can't help eavesdropping.

"Ever since I rescued him from the Capitol. I took the bullet, yet...he get's her. It makes no sense, you know? I just wanted her to be happy, and look what I get. Maybe she doesn't love me after all. Maybe she likes Noah."

Gale makes a guttural sound.

"And me...I'm just the noble dude that's left behind. It was all for the games...all for the games."

~A/N~ Sorry for being so late...thanks so much for 5K!

Should I enter MJP for the Wattys? Tell me what you think!

-Monica