Catching Fire

as a team of men with shovels passes us, headed out to the Victor’s Village. Maybe they can do something about those ten-foot walls. And by the time they’re out of earshot, the square is too close. We step into it and all come to a stop simultaneously.
    Nothing much will happen during the blizzard. That’s what Peeta and I had agreed. But we couldn’t have been more wrong. The square has been transformed. A huge banner with the seal of Panem hangs off the roof of the Justice Building. Peacekeepers, in pristine white uniforms, march on the cleanly swept cobblestones. Along the rooftops, more of them occupy nests of machine guns. Most unnerving is a line of new constructions — an official whipping post, several stockades, and a gallows — set up in the center of the square.
    “Thread’s a quick worker,” says Haymitch.
    Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their living there.
    “Haymitch, you don’t think everyone was still in — ” I can’t finish the sentence.
    “Nah, they’re smarter than that. You’d be, too, if you’d been around longer,” he says. “Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.”
    He trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.”
    “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. “I need to check on my family.”
    “I have to go see Hazelle.” I’m worried now. I thought she’d be on our doorstep the moment the snow was cleared. But there’s been no sign of her.
    “I’ll go, too. Drop by the bakery on my way home,” he says.
    “Thanks.” I’m suddenly very scared at what I might find.
    The streets are almost deserted, which would not be so unusual at this time of day if people were at the mines, kids at school. But they’re not. I see faces peeking at us out of doorways, through cracks in shutters.
    An uprising, I think. What an idiot I am . There’s an inherent flaw in the plan that both Gale and I were too blind to see. An uprising requires breaking the law, thwarting authority. We’ve done that our whole lives, or our families have. Poaching, trading on the black market, mocking the Capitol in the woods. But for most people in District 12, a trip to buy something at the Hob would be too risky. And I expect them to assemble in the square with bricks and torches? Even the sight of Peeta and me is enough to make people pull their children away from the windows and draw the curtains tightly.
    We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.”
    “Of course,” I say. “He’s much better. My mother says he’ll be back in the mines in a couple of weeks.”
    “May not be open until then, anyway,” says Hazelle. “Word is they’re closed until further notice.” She gives a nervous glance at her empty washtub.
    “You closed down, too?” I ask.
    “Not officially,” says Hazelle. “But everyone’s afraid to use me now.”
    “Maybe it’s the snow,” says Peeta.
    “No, Rory made a quick round this morning. Nothing to wash, apparently,” she says.
    Rory wraps his arms around Hazelle. “We’ll be all right.”
    I take a handful of money from my pocket and lay it on the table. “My mother will send something for Posy.”
    When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.”
    “I’ll go with you,” he says.
    “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him.
    “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob . . . that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. Together we wind through the streets of the Seam until we reach the burning building. They haven’t even bothered to leave Peacekeepers around it. They know no one would try to save it.
    The heat from the flames melts the surrounding snow and a black trickle runs across my shoes. “It’s all that coal dust, from the old days,” I say. It was in every crack and crevice. Ground into the floorboards. It’s amazing the place didn’t go up before. “I want to check on Greasy Sae.”
    “Not