𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 ☘︎ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞

𝐌𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐀𝐘 ☘︎ 5

"We gotta be fast, in and out!" Boggs shouts in warning to me, and Katniss, Gale and I stand up and go out.

Gale and Boggs have got a gun each, Katniss has her bow and arrows, and I have my axes. Apart from this, we're virtually unarmed.

We meet a woman with a cloth on her head like a turban, a muddy, washed out looking purple outfit, and a bag swinging off her shoulder. "You're alive then, we weren't sure," she looks to me.

"Willow this is Commander Paylor, District Eight," Boggs says. He turns to Paylor. "Willow's been recovering but she insisted on coming out to see some of your wounded.

"Well, we've got plenty of those," Paylor says, ushering us inside.

I look around in horror as we enter this makeshift hospital. Before we even get to the wounded, the walls are lined with those who couldn't make it.

"We have a mass grave a few blocks north, but I can't spare the manpower to move them yet," Paylor says grimly. "Hospital's past that curtain. Any hope you can give them, it's worth it. Capitol's done everything they can to break us."

"Aren't you worried about having all your wounded in one place?" Gale speaks up.

"Well, I think it's better than leaving them to die," Paylor bites back.

"That's not what I meant," Gale bites his lip, defeated. I resist the urge to smirk.

"Well, that's my only other option, if you can come up with another, I'm all ears!" Paylor shouts calmly back, pulling back the curtain the hospital lies behind. "It's right through here."

She lets us in.

Wounded lie all around the place, crying, screaming, shouting, whilst their families try to heal them. People lie on wooden pallets, they have all kinds of wounds, and I honestly don't see how I can help a mass of people like this.

"Don't film me in there," I say desperately to Cressida. "I can't help them."

"Just let them see your face," she whispers to me.

I walk further into the hospital.

I can't do this. All the wounded I see, I can't help, but I want to more than ever. Then the room around me goes silent.

"Willow? Hawthorne?" A small young girl with dark skin and wrecked clothes asks me. "What are you doing here?"

"I came- I came to see you," I say, fighting to keep my trembling lip under control.

"What about the baby?" An older woman, maybe in her forties or fifties, asks.

I use the story that we've decided to put about. Miscarriage after the explosion. "I lost it," I say, clenching my jaw.

"Are you fighting Willow?" I turn to see a boy. A boy that reminds me too much of Austin. "Are you here to fight with us?"

"I am," I instantly say. "I will."

And then something mystical happens. The boy puts his three fingers to his lips, then into the air. Then everyone copies him. Everyone around me.

I've given them all hope.

☘︎☘︎☘︎

We've walked away from the hospital and are going back to our hovercraft when Boggs stops. "There's a problem."

"What kind of problem?" Gale instantly asks.

"Incoming bombers from the north," Boggs says briskly. "We need to find cover. Now."