Mockingjay

others. Sleeping bunks are hewn right into the rock walls. There’s a kitchen, bathrooms, a first-aid station. This place was designed for an extended stay.
    White signs with letters or numbers are placed at intervals around the cavern. As Boggs tells Finnick and me to report to the area that matches our assigned quarters — in my case E for Compartment E — Plutarch strolls up. “Ah, here you are,” he says. Recent events have had little effect on Plutarch’s mood. He still has a happy glow from Beetee’s success on the Airtime Assault. Eyes on the forest, not on the trees. Not on Peeta’s punishment or 13’s imminent blasting. “Katniss, obviously this is a bad moment for you, what with Peeta’s setback, but you need to be aware that others will be watching you.”
    “What?” I say. I can’t believe he actually just downgraded Peeta’s dire circumstances to a setback.
    “The other people in the bunker, they’ll be taking their cue on how to react from you. If you’re calm and brave, others will try to be as well. If you panic, it could spread like wildfire,” explains Plutarch. I just stare at him. “Fire is catching, so to speak,” he continues, as if I’m being slow on the uptake.
    “Why don’t I just pretend I’m on camera, Plutarch?” I say.
    “Yes! Perfect. One is always much braver with an audience,” he says. “Look at the courage Peeta just displayed!”
    It’s all I can do not to slap him.
    “I’ve got to get back to Coin before lockdown. You keep up the good work!” he says, and then heads off.
    I cross to the big letter E posted on the wall. Our space consists of a twelve-by-twelve-foot square of stone floor delineated by painted lines. Carved into the wall are two bunks — one of us will be sleeping on the floor — and a ground-level cube space for storage. A piece of white paper, coated in clear plastic, reads B UNKER P ROTOCOL . I stare fixedly at the little black specks on the sheet. For a while, they’re obscured by the residual blood droplets that I can’t seem to wipe from my vision. Slowly, the words come into focus. The first section is entitled “On Arrival.”
    1. Make sure all members of your Compartment are accounted for.
    My mother and Prim haven’t arrived, but I was one of the first people to reach the bunker. Both of them are probably helping to relocate hospital patients.
    2. Go to the Supply Station and secure one pack for each member of your Compartment. Ready your Living Area. Return pack(s).
    I scan the cavern until I locate the Supply Station, a deep room set off by a counter. People wait behind it, but there’s not a lot of activity there yet. I walk over, give our compartment letter, and request three packs. A man checks a sheet, pulls the specified packs from shelving, and swings them up onto the counter. After sliding one on my back and getting a grip on the other two with my hands, I turn to find a group rapidly forming behind me. “Excuse me,” I say as I carry my supplies through the others. Is it a matter of timing? Or is Plutarch right? Are these people modeling their behavior on mine?
    Back at our space, I open one of the packs to find a thin mattress, bedding, two sets of gray clothing, a toothbrush, a comb, and a flashlight. On examining the contents of the other packs, I find the only discernible difference is that they contain both gray and white outfits. The latter will be for my mother and Prim, in case they have medical duties. After I make up the beds, store the clothes, and return the backpacks, I’ve got nothing to do but observe the last rule.
    3. Await further instructions.
    I sit cross-legged on the floor to await. A steady flow of people begins to fill the room, claiming spaces, collecting supplies. It won’t take long until the place is full up. I wonder if my mother and Prim are going to stay the night at wherever the hospital patients have been taken. But, no, I don’t think so. They were on the list here. I’m starting to get anxious, when my mother appears. I look behind her into a sea of strangers. “Where’s Prim?” I ask.
    “Isn’t she here?” she replies. “She was supposed to come straight down from the hospital. She left ten minutes before I did. Where is she? Where could she have gone?”
    I squeeze my lids shut tight for a moment, to track her as I would prey on a hunt. See her react to the sirens, rush to help the patients, nod as they gesture for her to descend to the bunker, and then