| part 11 |

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Twenty-four rolls from District 3. That gives us thirty-three in all. We each take five, leaving eight in reserve. No one says it, but eight will divide up perfectly after the next death. Somehow, in the light of day, joking about who will be around to eat the rolls has lost its humor. Tribute numbers are dropping quickly. Whatever this rebellion plan is needs to hurry up. Surely they wouldn't target the pregnant women?
Who am I kidding, If I was them I would be my first target, I'm weaker and slower. And my weakness is a growing bump. Fuck, I'm screwed.

Beetee calls us over, and it turns out that during all those hours of fiddling with wire, he has indeed come up with a plan. "I think we'll all agree our next job is to kill Brutus and Enobaria" he says mildly.
"I doubt they'll attack us openly again, now that they're so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it's dangerous, exhausting work."

This whole arena is exhausting, how can this get worse?

"So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap."

"Wait, let me get Johanna up," I say. "She'll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important." I walk over to Johanna and gently shaking her. I know how violent her instincts are when she's woken up. She jolts awake grabbing her axe and swing it until Finnicks strong grip stops her.

"Can you please reframe from killing my pregnant wife?" Finnick remarks as he lets go of the axe.

"I guess so" she jokes with a wicked grin. "I'm joking, I'm sorry" she apologises to us, seeing Finnicks deadly look.

"Common Beetee has a brainy plan we won't understand but have to help execute" I explain to a now wide awake Johanna.

Beetee swiftly draws a circle and divides it into twelve wedges. It's the arena.
"If you were Brutus and Enobaria, what would you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?" Beetee asks.

"Where we are now. On the beach" says Peeta. "It's the safest place."

"So why aren't they on the beach?" says Beetee.

"Because we're here" says Johanna impatiently.

"Exactly. We're here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?" Beetee asks.

"I'd hide just at the edge of the jungle so I could escape if an attack came. But also so I could spy on us." I tell him.

"Also to eat," Finnick says. "The jungle's full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I'd know the seafood's safe."

Beetee smiles at us as if we've exceeded his expectations. "Yes, good. You do see. Now here's what I propose: at twelve o'clock, What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?"

"The lightning bolt hits the tree" Katniss says.

"Yes. What I'm suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o'clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted" says Beetee.

There's a long pause while we all digest Beetee's plan. My brain can not handle all this information. I'm so lost. There's no way there gonna give me an important part in this plan anyways.

"Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up." Katniss asks.

"Oh, it will. But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it," says Beetee.

"How do you know?" asks Johanna, clearly not convinced.

"Because he invented it" I say stating the obvious.

"It's not actually wire in the usual sense. Nor is the lightning natural lightning nor the tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn't it?"

"Yes" she agrees reluctantly.

"Don't worry about the wire - it will do just what I say," Beetee assures us.

"And where will we be when this happens?" asks Finnick.

"Far enough up in the jungle to be safe," Beetee replies.

"The Careers will be safe, too, then, unless they're in the vicinity of the water" Katniss points out.

"That's right," says Beetee.

"But all the seafood will be cooked" says Peeta.

"Probably more than cooked," says Beetee. "We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good. But you found other edible things in the jungle, right, Katniss?"

"Yes. Nuts and rats," she says.

"And we have sponsors" I add.

"Well, then. I don't see that as a problem," says Beetee. "But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt it is up to you five."

"Why not?" Katniss says.
"If it fails, there's no harm done. If it works, there's a decent chance we'll kill them. And even if we don't and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too"

I pull Finnicks hand onto my stomach as I feel a familiar fluttering sensation. "The baby's kicking" he says with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"It's better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they'll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves." I say while Finnick is still mesmerised by our growing baby.

Beetee essentially gives us the afternoon off while he works with the wire. Since it's his weapon and the rest of us have no brain compare to his knowledge. At first we take turns having naps in the shadowy edge of the jungle, but by late afternoon everyone is awake and restless. We decide, since this might be our last chance for seafood, to make a sort of feast of it.

Peeta pries open an oyster when I hear him give a laugh. "Hey, look at this!" He holds up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. The Perl reminding me of my wedding band placed on my ring finger. "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls" he says earnestly to Finnick.

"No, it doesn't" says Finnick dismissively.

Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to Katniss. "For you." Katniss holds it out in her palm and examines it in the sunlight.

Just as we're about to eat, a parachute appears bearing two supplements to our meal. A small pot of spicy red sauce and yet another round of rolls from District 3. Finnick, of course, immediately counts them. "Twenty-four again" he says.

1156 words

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