The Runaway Victor | Book II

Chapter Eight | Damien

The weather had begun to change, the air became moist and thick. A lot of the times there was a wall of fog near the water and it crept up into the district. The lighthouse on the edge of the District was always calling boats back to the docks, every twenty minutes the horn would go off. The lighthouse had once been run by well-to-dos in the District, but during the Dark Days they used it to signal to people out on boats if the Peacekeepers were going to do special checks to the goods. Now it was run by peacekeepers.

This particular day was foggy, and the air had enough of a chill to it that Quinn wore a heavier jacket. But it made her easy to sneak things she'd need through the fence, so she didn't mind wearing it. The jacket was the one she wore out of the Capitol. She still had a few tokens from Capitol people discarded in her pocket. She had meant to sell them at the market, but there wasn't a market any more for her to sell it at. In one pocket, she had her mockingjay pin.

"Ms. Maverick," the mayors wife said, a bit surprised to see her standing at the door. "What...well-- come in, come in! Don't want you to get sick!"

She stepped aside and allowed Quinn to step inside. "What can I do for you?"

"I actually need to see Damien."

She raised an eyebrow sharply, "Why is that?"

"I need to see him." Quinn repeated, she wasn't willing to tell her she had to return something. Coming all that way from Victor's Village just to see an Avox was strange, but she couldn't just out and tell her she was on her way to the lake just outside the fence to smoke and drink some whiskey she left in between the rock as sat on and another.

The mayors wife looked her over for a long moment, before giving her a curt nod and gestured to the sitting room. Quinn made her way towards a nice black couch that was similar to the one that she had back in her own house. In fact, she could have sworn this house was the same. The walls were the same pale white colour with a blueish tint to it. And the curtains were the same off-white colour.

Quinn made herself comfortable on the couch and pulled out the golden pin. She examined it in her fingers, she couldn't help but consider keeping it. But most tokens were given back when a Victor got home.

Quinn looked up at the sound of a light tap on the door frame. In the entry way stood Damien. Instead of wearing the old Peacekeepers armour that she had first seen him in and gotten used to, he wore a simple white pair of pants and a white shirt to match. He looked exactly the same but at the same time he look like a new person.

"Hey," Quinn began as she stood up. "I wanted to give this back to you." she said simply as she held out the golden pin towards her.

His eyes fell onto it, but he didn't reach for it. His eyebrows pressed together, and his forehead wrinkled and revealed a scar as he tried to think of a way to communicate with her.

"Really, I want you to take it back. It's yours."

He shook his head.

"I don't need it, besides I don't need something else to remind me about the arena." she explained further.

But he shook his head again, this time taking a few steps past her towards the side table by the couch. In the drawer was a small notepad and a few pencils. He grabbed a pencil and the notepad and scribbled something down.

I gave it to you because you are the person the Drifters and rebels need.

"No, I'm not. I don't want to be."

He sighed and scribbled something else down. It's not all about what you want. It's what the rest of Panem needs.

Quinn sighed, irritation was rising. She could feel it building in her body. "Panem doesn't need me, Damien."

He didn't even look at her before he began writing again. They need the person who threw a spear at a target labeled Snow.

Quinn stared at his writing for a moment. That person was gone. She wasn't that person anymore...

Damien quickly began to scribble down words again.

If you want to let the Capitol step all over you, the Districts, and let kids keep killing each other for their entertainment-- fine. But we both know you don't want to. You're just too afraid to say and do what's right.