What?

He has to be joking. He has to be. I knew it! He is insane.

District 13 does not exist. All that's left is a pile of smouldering ruins. The once thriving district is completely obliterated. The Capitol destroyed it during the Dark Days as punishment for the districts. As punishment for what they started. No survivors are left.

"You're crazy," I tell Sarrel.

"I'm not crazy. You're closed-minded."

"No. District 13 does not exist. It did 11 years ago but not anymore."

"Who told you that?"

"Well school of course! We learnt about the Dark Days." I hesitate. "Do they teach you something different in 9?"

"Nope. They taught us the same thing as you."

War terrible war. Widows orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. 13 districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace. Heartfought, solely won. The people rose up from the ashes, and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. And the traitors were defeated. We swore as a nation, we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and women, to fight to the death, in a pageant of honour, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity, and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future.

This was the Capitol propaganda played again and again at each year's reaping. I know it off by heart after hearing it so many times. So does Sarrel.

"Where did you get your information from? asks Sarrel.

"Which one?" I'm getting confused now.

"District 13 and the propaganda."

"Uhhh school and the reaping."

"Yes and where does that originate?" Sarrel is looking at me intently like he wants me to understand something major.

And then I do. "The Capitol. All of its from the Capitol."

"Exactly" he says smugly. "Lies, lies and more lies. They do like brainwashing us. To them we're puppets."

"We're just another piece in their Games," I say quietly.

Sarrel looks at me with a pitiful expression on his face. I hate it.

"Your singing really is beautiful."

"Thank you." Why has this conversation changed so quickly?

"You know, when you sing, even the mockingjays stop to listen."

I don't know how to respond. It's a lovely compliment but I can't think of anyone in that way. Not yet. First I have to forget about Coriolanus. "Well I've had a lot of practice," I say with a smile. "It's what I did back in 12. I was in a band and we called it the Covey. They were like my family. I was lead singer and performing was how we made money."

"I'd love to hear you guys."

"Yeah well too late." Harsh I know. But I have to let him know somehow. I'm not interested.

"What was your life like back in 9?"

"Oh it was boring. Especially compared to yours back in 12. I farmed all day. Grain. It was horrible sometimes, especially in summer. We only had a twenty minute break for lunch. We got up at sunrise and went home past sunset. No water, only at lunch. I have sunburns I doubt will leave. People passing out is a regular thing. Some people even died of heatstroke. Our Peacekeepers were brutal. If you stopped farming, even for two minutes you get whipped. If you steal water, food or spend too long getting back to the fields after lunch, you're shot on sight." There's an uneasy silence. I don't really know what to say.

"Oh my goodness. That sounds awful. No wonder you want to leave." I think of life in 12. Sure you have to work all day in the mines but our Peacekeepers were friendly. They weren't really into enforcing rules. They prefered to laugh, dance and get drunk at the Hob. An place for black market trading.

I ask Sarrel the question that's been on my mind. "How did you find out about 13?"

"A man called Flax who worked on the fields with me told me about it. At first my reaction was like yours- I didn't believe him but he made me see sense. Everything we get is from the Capitol. Food, money. Information. Flax told me of rumors: people living up North, another district out of the Capitol's control. There's also something else."

"What is it?"

"We didn't have a television at home or in the fields but whenever I had the chance to access one, they sometimes play footage of District 13."

"Okay... where are you going with this?" I ask.

"It's always the same footage. If you look carefully in the top right hand corner you'll see a mockingjay. It's just a glimpse of it as it flies by but its the same one everytime."

"Mockingjays are very common though," I reply.

"It's the same one. Always. Trust me on this. In 9, we think they keep reusing the same old footage because the Capitol can't show what's really there now."

"You think you're going to find a new city with people? And that's fine with the Capitol?" I say in disbelief.

"No. We think the people moved underground when everything on the surface was destroyed. And we think the Capitol leaves them alone because before the Dark Days, 13's industry was nuclear development."

"They were graphite miners." I hesitate. That was information I got from the Capitol.

"They had a few small mines but not enough to justify a population of that size."

My heart speeds up. What if he's right? Could it be true? Could there be a safe haven besides the wilderness?

"Did Flax leave 9 to go in search of 13?" I ask.

"No." says Sarrel shortly. He got hung. In public." I looked closely at the pained expression on his face. "That's how I knew what he was saying about the Capitol and 13 was true. Why else would they hang him publicly?"

I remember Sejanus. Coriolanus's friend. I tell him about Sejanus but omit Coriolanus from the story. He doesn't need to know about that. Not yet.

"Rebels. It's true then. They don't want another uprising. So they round up the rebels and kill them off." finishes Sarrel.

"Sarrel?"

"Yeah?"

"How did they know about Flax?"

"They probably heard him tell others about 13. I don't know exactly but I guess they've somehow bugged the fields. Flax wasn't stupid. He wasn't the sort of guy to go around shouting about the Capitol and 13. He was careful. Quiet. He only put his trust in certain people he could rely on."

"You."

"Yeah. Me"

***

We walk on through the woods. It's getting dark now so we decide to set up camp and get some food. Sarrel has some weapons, grain, berries and some sort of meat in his bag. He also pulls out flint and steel which is great!
I decide to make a fire while he collects wood to make some sort of den.

I cook the meat and fish over the fire and top it off with katniss and berries.
He can hunt, I can fish. We can both gather. There's a stream not far from our campsite so I clean myself and collect water. My leg seems to be coping well with the strain of walking all day. The skin on the palm of my hands has a roughness to it now from leaning heavily on my basic crutches. 

When I come back, I see Sarrel has constructed some sort of shelter using branches. It's clever and will protect us from wind and rain. We eat our meal and doze off.

I wake up sometime later. Sarrel is still awake.

"Lucy Gray?"

I freeze. I'm not really sure why. It's the first time he's addressed me by my name. My real one. I guess I've forgotten it. Maybe I want to leave my old life behind and start a new identity. "Yeah?"

"They knew Flax told me information. I escaped. I was in custody about to be hung after Flax. Just after they took off my handcuffs I escaped through the crowd and took off. I don't think they're bothering to look for me. I'm dead to them. The Peacekeepers."

"Are you thinking of changing your name, making up some lies about your real identity?" I ask. After all, I'm travelling with an escaped convict.

"Yeah. I guess so," says Sarrel. "Just in case. Better be safe than sorry."

Hmm maybe we do have more in common than I  thought.

"What about you Lucy Gray?"

"Definitely. Of course I'm changing my name. It's my new life after all.

Hey Sarrel?"

"Yeah?"

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen. You?"

"Sixteen."

He falls asleep but I stay awake for longer. I think about my new life. My new name. My new identity. What could it be?

The flames slowly flicker in the darkness until all that remains are the glowing embers.

I think I know.