Chapter 10 Chapter Ten Turrell and Bonnie

What's the point of printing a mockingjay on bread?It's not the same fashion pattern as I've seen in the Capitol, it's certainly not some kind of fashion. "What is this? What do you mean?" I asked sharply, the bow and arrow in my hand still at the ready. "It means we're on your side." A trembling voice came from behind me. I didn't see her when I walked over, she must be hiding in the house, and I kept my eyes on my target.Maybe the person had a weapon, but I'm sure she didn't want to risk me hearing the sound of a bullet being loaded because I'd kill her companions when I learned I was under death threats. "Come here so I can see you," I ordered.

"She can't, she—" said the woman with the bread. "Come out!" I yelled. I heard both stomping and shuffling, and I could tell from the sound that she was struggling.At this time, a woman—maybe it should be called a girl, because she is about my age, came into my sight.She was wearing a vigilante uniform with a white fur cape, but the clothes were several sizes too large for her petite frame and looked out of place.Apparently, she was not carrying a weapon. She tried to maintain her balance with both hands on a crutch made of broken branches. She couldn't lift her booted right foot, so she shuffled along.

I studied the girl's face, which was red from the cold, with jagged teeth, brown eyes, and a strawberry-colored birthmark on one eyelid.She wouldn't be a vigilante, or a Capitol. "Who are you?" I asked alertly, but my tone softened. "My name is Turrell," the woman said.She was older, thirty-five or sixteen. "This is Bonnie, we escaped from District Eight." District 8!Then they must know about the riots! "Where did you get your uniforms?" I asked. "I stole it from a factory," Bonnie said. "We make police uniforms there. This suit...was made for someone else, and that's why it didn't fit so well."

"That gun came from a dead vigilante," Turrell said, never taking his eyes off me. "What does the cookie in your hand, the one with the bird, mean?" I asked. "Don't you know, Katniss?" Bonnie was surprised. They have recognized me.Of course, they recognize me.My face was uncovered, and I was standing outside District 12 with a bow and arrow, aiming at them.Who else can I be? "I know, it's the same pattern as the brooch I had in the arena." "She doesn't know yet," said Bonnie softly. "Maybe she doesn't know anything."

Suddenly, I felt like I should look like I had everything under control. "I know there's been a riot in District Eight." "Yeah, that's why we escaped," Turrell said. "Okay, you have escaped and are safe and sound, what are you going to do next?" "We are going to escape to the thirteenth district." Turrell replied. "The thirteenth district? There is no thirteenth district. It disappeared from the map long ago." I said. "That was seventy-five years ago," Turrell said. Bonnie frowned, and shifted her center of gravity while relying on crutches.

"What happened to your leg?" I asked. "I sprained my ankle and the shoe was too big," Bonnie said. I bit my lip.My gut told me they were telling the truth, and there was a lot I wanted to know about those words.I took a step forward and picked up the pistol that Turrell had thrown away, the bow and arrow still in my hand.Then I hesitated a little.I remembered one day Gale and I were in the woods and saw a helicopter suddenly appear in the sky and capture two people who had escaped from the Capitol.The boy was shot dead with a spear, and the red-haired girl was made dumb and became a maid called an Avax.This is what I found out after I came to the Capitol.

"Is someone following you?" "We don't think so. They probably thought we were killed in an explosion at the factory. It's a good luck that we didn't die," Turrell said. "Okay, let's go inside." I nodded towards the concrete house, gesturing for them to go in.I followed them, gun in hand. Bonnie threw herself over to the fireplace, spread her cloak on the floor, and sat on it.In the fireplace, a log was burning at one end, giving off a faint flame, and she put her hand on it to roast.Her skin was extremely pale, as if it was already translucent, and the light from the flames seemed to have penetrated her skin.Turrell put the cloak—it should be her own cloak—around the shivering girl.

A tin can had been torn open in the middle, the jagged iron sheet curled dangerously outward.The tin can sits in the embers of the fireplace with boiling water and some pine branches. "Burn tea?" I asked. "We don't understand either. We just remember someone doing it in the Hunger Games a few years ago. At least we think it's a pine branch." Turrell said with a frown. I was reminded of District 8 as a precinct that smelt of industrial fumes and where people lived in dilapidated houses.Looking around, you can't even see a blade of grass, so people have no chance to understand nature.It was a miracle they could do that.

"Is there nothing to eat?" I asked. Bonnie nodded. "We ate everything we could, but there's been too little food. It's been a while." Her trembling voice dispelled the last trace of my guard.She was nothing more than a malnourished, wounded girl fleeing the Capitol's murder. "Well, you're in luck today." I said, putting the game bag on the ground.The whole district was starving, but we couldn't run out of food, so I often gave to other families.I also had first things to think about: Gail's, Gracie Se, and a few other families who couldn't do business anymore because the black market was closed.Mom also helped other people, often her patients.Today, I deliberately put more food in the bag. When my mother saw that a lot of food was taken away from the kitchen, she knew that I was going to help others again.I actually went quietly to the lake, I didn't want her to worry.I had planned to hand out the food when I got back tonight, but as things stand, that's impossible.

I pulled two buns out of the bag with a layer of cheese on top.We've had this bread in our house ever since Peeta discovered it was my favorite.I picked one up and tossed it to Turrell, then went around and put a piece of bread on Bonnie's lap.Now that her hand-eye coordination is questionable, I don't want to throw the bread in the fire. "Oh," said Bonnie, "oh, it's all for me?" I thought of another voice, Lulu's voice in the arena, and my heart ached.When I put a toucan leg into her hand, she said, "Oh, I've never eaten a whole leg before." They had been starving for so long that they couldn't believe what they were eating. everything of.

"Well, let's eat." I said.Bonnie held up the bread as if she couldn't believe it was real, and ate it with great gulps. "It tastes even better if you chew it." She nodded, trying to slow down, but I know how hard it is when you're hungry. "I think your tea is ready." I pulled the tin from the fire and Turrell produced two tin bowls in her backpack, and I emptied the "tea" from the tin and set it on the ground Wait for it to cool.The two of them huddled together, ate and sipped tea while I lit the fire.I waited until they had finished eating and started nibbling at the grease on their fingers before I asked, "Here, tell me about you." Then they told me their stories one by one. . Discontent in the Eighth District has grown since the Hunger Games took place.Of course, this dissatisfaction is already there.But gradually, people are no longer satisfied with verbal complaints, but want to take action, they want to turn their wishes into reality.The textile mills in the eighth district roared all day long, and the noise was a good cover. As long as everyone put their mouths close to their ears, they could pass on information safely without being noticed or censored.Turrell teaches at the school, and Bonnie is her student. After class, they have to go to the clothing factory that produces police uniforms for four hours.It took Bonnie months to work in the cold clothing testing workshop before she managed to hide two uniforms and boots and trousers elsewhere.These were for Turrell and her husband, knowing that if there was a riot, the ability to get the word out was critical to the success of the riot and the response of other jurisdictions. The Victory Tour Peeta and I had done that day in District 8 provided a perfect rehearsal for their plan to carry out the riot.Each riot team entered the predetermined location of each building according to the plan. Once the riot started, they could attack the target where they were located.The plan was this: to seize first the important institutions of the city, such as the courthouse, the headquarters of the law and order, and the communication center in the square, and to seize other important factories and facilities: railways, grain depots, power plants, and arsenals. The night Peeta got down on one knee in the Capitol and confessed his love to me for the cameras, there was a riot in District 8.The events of the night provided them with good cover.Caesar Flickman's interview with us is a must-watch program required by the government, so the people in District 8 can naturally go out at night and gather in squares or other places with communication facilities to watch the program.If it is in normal times, such an action would be too suspicious.Therefore, everyone entered the predetermined position at the appointed time—eight o'clock. When the atmosphere of the masquerade ball was in full swing, an earth-shaking riot broke out. The security police were shocked. They were frightened by so many rioters. The rioters gained the upper hand and quickly occupied the communication center, grain depot and power station.The security police dropped their helmets and armor, and the guns they discarded just provided weapons for the rioters.At that time, everyone hoped that this was not a crazy move. If the news could reach other districts, they might overthrow the Capitol's rule. But the situation deteriorated sharply.Thousands of public security police poured into District 8 in large numbers, and helicopters dropped bombs, directly reducing the places occupied by the rioters to ashes.Chaos ensued, and it was difficult for people to escape home alive.The riot was suppressed within forty-eight hours.A week of strict lockdown followed, with no food, no coal, and no one allowed to leave their homes.The only televised broadcast was a live broadcast of the hanging of the instigator of the riot.One night, when everyone was on the verge of starvation, an order was issued from above: everything returned to normal. That means both Turrell and Bonnie are going back to school.Because a road they must pass to get to work was blown up during the riots, they could not get to the factory in time to go to work.When they were only a hundred yards away from the factory, there was an explosion in the factory.Everyone at the factory died—including Turrell's husband and Bonnie's family. "Someone must have informed the Capitol that the riot started there." Turrell said in a low voice. So the two fled back to the Turrell house, where the uniforms were still there, packed all their food into parcels, stole some from their dead neighbors, and headed straight for the train station.In a warehouse by the railway track, they changed into vigilante clothes, put on makeup, and mingled with a train car full of textiles destined for the Sixth District.They then escaped while the train was filling up and continued on foot.Under the cover of the woods, they followed the track and finally reached the boundary of District 12 two days ago, where Bonnie sprained her ankle and they had to stop. "I understand why you're running for your life, but why are you going to District 13 and what can you find there?" I asked. Bonnie and Turrell exchanged glances nervously. "We don't really know," Turrell said. "There's nothing in there but gravel," I said. "We've all seen the TV." "Yeah, for as long as we can remember, they've shown the same show in District 8," Turrell said. "Really?" I tried to recall what District 13 looked like on TV. "You know there's a courthouse on TV, right?" Turrell continued, and I nodded, having seen it hundreds of times. "If you look closely, you can see it. It's in the upper right corner." "See what?" I asked. Turrell held up the Mockingjay biscuit again: "There's a mockingjay, flashing by, same every time." "Back home, they always showed old TV shows because the Capitol couldn't show people what District 13 looks like now," Bonnie said. I said "ah", I can't believe how they can think that way. "You're going to District 13 for that? A mockingjay? You think you'll see a new district where people roam the streets freely? The Capitol will sit back and watch?" "No," Turrell said eagerly, "we felt that although everything above ground was destroyed, people went underground. People managed to survive. We also felt that the Capitol would not interfere with them, because Before the 'Dark Times' came, the main industry in District 13 was the nuclear industry." "Their industry is graphite mines," I said.Speaking of this, I paused, because this information was also obtained from the Capitol. "They have some small mines there, but not enough to feed so many people. I guess that's the only thing we can be sure of." Turrell said. My heart skipped a beat.What if what they say is true?Could it be true?Is there any other place to hide but the wilderness?a safe place?If there are really people in District 13, is it better for me to go there than wait here to die?Maybe there's something else to do there.So...if the thirteenth district not only has people, but also has powerful weapons... "Then why don't they help us?" I said angrily, "If it's true, how can they watch us live so hard and ignore it? It's hunger, massacre, and games? "I suddenly felt extremely indignant at this hypothetical thirteenth underground district, and those people who watched us go to die but stood idly by.They were no better than the Capitol. "We don't know, we just hope they exist." Speaking of this, I suddenly woke up.These are nothing but fantasies and illusions.District Thirteen would not exist because the Capitol never allowed it to exist.The TV film they mentioned is probably also a misunderstanding.Mockingjays are as ubiquitous as rocks in the ground, and easy to live on.If they had survived the initial bombing of District 13, they must be thriving by now. Bonnie has no home.Her family members were all dead, and it was impossible to return to District 8 or settle down in other districts.So, of course the fantasy of an independent and vibrant District 13 appealed to her.She was chasing a dream as ethereal as smoke, but I couldn't speak to her.Maybe she and Turrell could make a living in the woods.But I also doubt this, they are very poor, I have to help them. I gave them all the food in the bag, cereals, mostly dried beans, which were carefully eaten and would last them awhile.Then I took Turrell into the woods and taught her the basics of hunting game.She has a long-lasting weapon that can convert solar energy into a deadly beam if necessary.When she hit the first squirrel with this weapon, the beam was aimed straight at the squirrel, and the poor squirrel was almost charred.I also taught her how to skin and gut her.With more practice, she will eventually be able to learn by herself.I made Bonnie a new pair of crutches.Back inside, I took off another layer of socks and gave them to Bonnie, telling her to tuck them into the toes of her boots when she walked and put them on her feet when she went to bed at night.Finally, I taught her how to make a fire. They also begged me to tell more about District 12, and I told them about life in District 12 under Stride's brutal rule.It seems that they think these situations are very important, and they should tell others about these situations after fleeing to the 13th district.I can't bear to say more, lest their hopes be dashed.Before I knew it, it was evening, it was getting late, and I had to go back. "I have to go," I said. They hugged me and thanked me again and again. Bonnie had tears in her eyes: "We can't believe we've met you, everyone's been talking about you since—" "I know, I know. Ever since I got those berries out," I said wearily. On the way home, there was snowflakes in the sky, it was wet and cold, but I seemed to be unaware of all this, and I didn't know how I got home.The riots in District 8 and the seductive fantasies of District 13 are always in my mind. Bonnie and Turrell's words at least confirm one thing, President Snow has been cheating and using me.All the kisses and tenderness in the world are not enough to calm the resentment and resentment of District Eight.Yes, the act of me holding the berry was the spark, but the spark that started the fire was out of my control.He must have known it himself.So why is he visiting my house?Why was I ordered to prove my love for Peeta in public?This was apparently to divert my attention from stirring up revolt as I toured the districts.And of course, entertaining the Capitol as well.I think weddings are just a further extension of this strategy. When I was approaching the fence, a mockingbird hopped briskly on a branch and sang to me crisply.Seeing the bird, it dawned on me that I hadn't understood the true meaning of the bird printed on the biscuit, nor what it symbolized. "It means we're on your side." These were Bonnie's exact words.So someone is already on my side?What do I mean?Have I unwittingly become a symbol of rebellion?The mockingjay on my brooch became a symbol of defiance?If so, then the odds are not in my favor.Just look at the situation in the eighth district and it will be clear at a glance. I hid my weapon in a dead tree not far from my old home in the Seam, and headed for the fence.I got down on one knee and was about to get into the Ranch, all the while thinking about the events of the day.Then I was jolted awake by the screech of an owl. It was getting late, and in the twilight, the barbed wire looked as calm and safe as ever.But a humming sound like that of a killer bee made me jerk my hand back, which meant that the fence was electrified.