Splintered

Chapter Twenty-Three: Ripples

Hazel's very soul tingled, torn between the sudden urge to flee and the opposite instinct to freeze completely.

The uncertainty of her risk's aftereffects clawed at her nerves.

Exclamations rippled through the dazed crowd like a boulder plowing into a tranquil lake. The air shimmered with the force of the shockwaves, spreading outward, reaching deeper into District Ten.

Capitol citizens exchanged unsure glances. Behind them, the District people had a much more enthusiastic reaction. Many clapped and shouted. A few dabbed at the welling tears. Others clasped their hands in gratitude.

Brindle collapsed to his knees. His shoulders rocked as he sobbed into his cupped hands. Mia's mother knelt beside him, running her palm over his head, whispering in his ear.

Despite herself, Hazel cast a defiant glance at the side of the stage. 

Indira had a hand over her mouth, struggling to find an appropriate expression. Festus rubbed at his eyebrows. Though, a wickedly amused look broke through his features whenever he glanced at Augustus. The new Gamemaker was as stiff as a dead trunk, features waffling between a deathly glare and an unconvincing indifference. The latter was surely for the crowd's benefit. 

But it was the man beside him who captivated her attention. Snow's fingers danced over his chin. His face did not move, the knowing smirk carefully cemented in place. However, something unspoken swelled behind his eyes. She swore it resembled respect but laced with something charged.

It was then that she sensed peacekeepers converging on her. It was doubtful they would allow her to say much else.

I need to convince them to go along with this. All of them.

Hazel tightened her grip on the microphone, "We should all continue in our efforts to make our great country prosper. Mayor Shepherd, I'm sure, will be renewed in his commitment to your District and, more importantly, to Panem. As we all should." She cleared her throat, the metallic chill of the microphone brushing her lips. "Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever."

Cheers erupted from both Capitol and District citizens, their voices blending into something almost unified.

Just then, a firm hand found her shoulder, and Sable's gravelly voice was in her ear, "Time to go, trouble."

With a final glance at Brindle, she tore her eyes from the pulsating, clapping people.

Snow was just behind him, ready to take over the microphone. He studied her like a formidable opponent. She almost swore she could hear him whispering. Nice move.

Snow transfixed the crowd with a pearly white grin. Raising his hands it was as if he could smooth the waves through sheer charm. He leaned into the microphone, basking in the deafening approval.

"She is as right as she is striking, folks. And there is nothing- Nothing more important to me than Panem's future. What holds us upright, what keeps us from collapsing into the chaos of the past, is rule and order." His gaze caught Hazel's as she was pulled toward the stairs, his expression sharp with a challenge all his own. "But order alone is not enough. Justice must be balanced. And I assure you, when I am President, Panem will be governed with a hand that is firm but fair. I will do whatever it takes to guarantee our nation will not be dragged back into the ruin of our predecessors."

Those in the gathering fed off the excitement, murmuring approval at Snow's declaration.

The next few minutes were a chaotic whirlwind. Hazel was ushered quite rapidly from the stage through the throngs of elated people. As the news of the freeing of their mayor seeped into the outer parts of the District, the streets erupted in shouting and hollering. Peacekeepers converged down every road and alleyway, working to mitigate any overly enthusiastic demonstrations.