War Restarted (Sequel to The Last Games)

William Cole=AwesomeOK1
London Samuelson=bored_chic1002
Nicholas Capulet=AwesomeOK1

The war against the Capitol has started again. Will the rebels prevail or will the Capitol surface victorious once more?

And what part will Will and London play? Will Nicholas be freed from the Capitol? And will Will's family ever forgive London?

The adventure continues in War Restarted...

Read Part 1 here: http://www.quibblo.com/quiz/hKZWD1E/The-Last-Games-A-Hunger-Games-Group-Story

Chapter 1

Like A Nightmare (Will's POV)

Something was sparkling out of my reach. What the-?
Where am I? ...Who am I?
I stretched my hand out in front of me, but I could see nothing but the darkness.
Not even my five fingers were visible.

The only thing that apparently existed was the sparkle of golden light before me.
Somehow, I knew it was important. Walking forward, the stomp stomp of my boots filling the empty corridor, I moved toward the light.

Finally, my hand closed around it. It was long and metallic, and it felt strangely sequined. What could it be?

FLASH As the lights came on, so did the music. From somewhere in the ceiling, an orchestra was playing. A mixture of bass and violin. While the haunting music played, I looked around me, making rapid sense of my surroundings.

I was in an office, the shelves lined with files, frames and trophies, the mahogany desk littered with papers, certificates and...blood?

The orchestra began playing more eerily as I backed up against the wall. President Snow lay atop his own desk, his hand reaching out to grab something, his neck splattered open with his own letter knife.

I looked down in my hand. In my hand, was a small, golden chain with three doves in flight. The last memoir of a dead, young girl. What was it doing here with me?

The opening of the door alerted me to the presence of another. A figure in a camouflage mech suit, armed with a black shotgun, stepped confidently in. Staring at me, it raised its weapon. I dropped the chain to the floor and raised my hands in surrender.

"Don't shoot!" I yelled. "I didn't kill him!"

The figure in the mech suit noddedd. I couldn't make out his face, but I could see the sparkle of his teeth as he smiled.

"That's exactly why I have to kill you. You are useless to me."

There was a loud BANG and a flash of light as the assailant in the mech suit pulled the trigger. I felt no pain, but I was aware of something red oozing out from a hole in my chest. I tried to reach down and touch it, but my body wouldn't respond. Instead, my knees buckled from beneath me and I slumped to the ground as the darkness swallowed me up.

Waking with a yell, I sat up in my tiny bunk bed, panting.

That nightmare...

"Will?" I looked up and saw Jake peering down at me from his upper bunk bed.
"Are you alright?"

I nodded.
"Yeah, Jake. Nothing to worry about. Just go to sleep."

Jake nodded and retreated his head back in.
Seeing Jake made me think. He'd just turned 13 this year, but so much had changed since he was 12.

The little tyke that was scared of Peacemakers taking his blood had matured enough to such an extent that I hardly felt like I knew him anymore. But with the war going on, I didn't exactly have the time to sit him down for a heart-to-heart chat these days.

Settling back down on my bed, reminiscence was my only escape from the nightmares.

How did I get here?

Ever since the rebels proclaimed war on the Capitol, the whole of Panem was in an outrage. The Capitol on one side, the rebels on the other. And all the defenseless citizens in the districts were to be brutally executed unless they could evacuate to District 13 in time.

Speaking of evacuation, I was glad to know most of District 12 made it to District 13 in time. My best friends at school, Byron and David, had made it. So had my dad and my brother. What I was not pleased to know was that London's aunt and uncle also evacuated in time. The two of them were renowned for being 'illegal money-lenders' and my dad had been roughed up by them several times before for owing money. So neither London nor I were glad to see them.

London. Oh gosh, London.

Ever since we arrived here a week ago from the arena, I'd hardly had a chance to talk to her. The harsh scheduele of 13 made it difficult for conversation. Hopefully, tomorrow, I would get a chance to speak to her. But even if I did get to speak to her, so what?

My relationship with London was beyond confusing. On one hand, my whole family is prejudiced against her for causing the death of my mother. Jake's been motherless his whole life because of her and my dad will never even consider forgiving her. Yet on the other hand, London and I...we shared a kiss. We braved hell in the arena together, most of which was inflicted on London. And much as I hate to admit it, I liked London. Both as a friendship and as a romance.

Why did my feelings have to be so conflicting? I thought angrily to myself.

And that wasn't the least of my problems. There's more.

Nicholas Capulet.

My young District 11 ally in the Games had been kidnapped by the Capitol during the arena breakout.
Though he and I weren't blood-related, I wanted to save him. He was my friend, and to be honest, I looked to him as sort of a second-brother.

When I met Nicholas's mother in 13, she had been distraught over the fact that her son had been kidnapped. At the time, she had fainted and Nicholas's sister, a dark African-ish girl, had shot me a venomous look before dragging her mother to the side. That only served to up my guilt factor.

The whole reason that the war has restarted was because of London and I. Apparently, the rebels of 13 wanted to use me and her as some sort of...I dunno, motivation? Our relationship was supposed to give the soldiers the strength to rebel against the Capitol. Which is a stupid strategy, considering the fact that London and I are perplexed enough as it is over our relationship.

I heard a sigh next to me. Turning, I saw my dad sitting up on his bed.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked. I shook my head and he sighed again, getting up and brewing a cup of coffee.

"Y' know, Will?" he growled. "I miss the old days back in 12. Sure, we weren't free and times were harsh (he took a sip of coffee) but at least there wasn't much bloodshed and gore."

"Well, as a minor District, we kind of have it better than other districts." I remarked.

"Do you...support this war?" my dad asked, looking at me straight in the eyes, pausing for a second to take another sip of coffee.

I hesitated.
"What do you-?"

"Do you...want to fight?" my dad asked.

I looked down.
"Yes. The Capitol's been pressing us down for far too long. I just want the whole of Panem to be able to live harmoniously. And if the only way to eradicate war is to win the war, then I will gladly fight against the Capitol for the success of the rebels."

My dad nodded approvingly.
"Your mom told me the same thing, on the night she became a rebel. You know, before she died."

I was surprised. My dad never touched on the subject of my mom.



"Do you think any of this will ever be normal again? Once the war is over, can we go back to our lives?"

My dad shot me a mournful look.
"No, son. Nothing will ever be the same again."

The next morning, I stuck my forearm in the device as per usual. There was a momentary sting, and then nothing. As I withdrew my forearm, there, printed in green ink, was today's scheduele.

7:00 Breakfast
8:00 Training
12:30 Lunch
1:30 Training
5:30 Free & Easy
6:00 Reflection
7:00 Dinner
8:20 Evening Sermon
9:30 War Update
10:00 Free & Easy
10:40 Shower
11:15 Lights Out

The schedeule was mostly the same day-after-day. Mealtimes, training, mealtimes, training. But sometimes, it varied. Say, for example, the area was bombed in the morning, which would cut into training time. You never know.

But the fact that they had to imprint the scheduele on your forearm was kind of messed up though.

My daily scheduele had been imprinted on my right forearm, but on my left forearm was my communicuff. Special members who are directly involved in the war preparations get to wear communicuffs, which mark them as privileged people.
Because I was one of the 'main people' in the war, I was given a communicuff and was expected to show up to War Meetings with the rebel leaders like Plutarch and Haymitch. London had been given a communicuff too. Whenever special updates came on, like 'War Meeting at 10:30', then the communicuff would blink and make a buzzing sound, alerting you to the update.

At the present timing, the communicuff buzzed while I was eating breakfast.

'War Meeting at 8:00'

Great. I picked at the food on my plate. Even though I had been living at 13 for a week already, it still took a while to get used to the food. It was just one slice of bread, with extra-protein dairy milk, a side of green beans and two strawberries. Blegh. Even the milk tasted bland, which is saying something, considering that I love milk.

"Eat your food." my dad said from across me. The districts sat at their own tables in the cafeteria, District 1 at Table 1, District 2 at Table 2, and District 12 at Table 12.
I usually sat with my dad and Jake.

Down the table, London usually sat with her friends at school. Meaning, she sat alone. Now I tried to make eye contact with her. But she just stared adamantly at her plate, not looking up, chewing slowly.

The communicuff on my arm buzzed again.

'Meeting Now! Meeting Room 2AD+'

Meeting Room 2AD+
Purpose: Discussion of Operation Rematch
Members: Full-House Committee

I sat in a bucket chair, uncomfortably shifting every now and then. There were 30 members of the committee seated in a circle in the room, all focused on the woman standing in the center of the circle, giving out orders.

The committee consisted of quite a lot of varied people. There was Haymitch, who was now drinking a lot less alcohol due to the strict no-alcohol rule in 13; Plutarch, who had been a rebel right under President Snow's nose; Fulvia, Plutarch's assistant; the Mayor of District 12, who had rigged the tribute bowl in last year's Reaping; Andy, the lovely and sweet spy who had killed and impostored Barry to protect me and London last year; Grenoble, the Captain of the Rebel Soldiers; Beetee, the weapons tech from District 3 and about 15 other soldiers.

The door opened and London swiftly entered.
"Sorry I'm late." she huffed.

Keeping her head high, she walked over and took her seat next to me.

"What kept you?" I whispered.

"Just some sweet soldiers." she replied.

The attention turned back to the woman in the centre of the room. President Coin. The mastermind behind the rebellion.

"Well, gentlemen and ladies. I called this meeting to discuss the evacuation opearation we will carry out tomorrow. The Capitol will be due to attack District 7 tomorrow and we have to evacuate the last of the able-bodied citizens out. We need all the soliders we can get on deck to fight against the Capitol." Coin explained.

"Tomorrow will be a complex operation. Our goal is to find the District 7 stragglers and evac them without futher delay before any chance of attack from the Capitol should arise."

London was the first to leave once the meeting was over, and she kept her distance from me during training and lunchtime, so as to not let my dad find out that she and I were together. But once 5:30 came around, it was Free and Easy.

My dad and Jake usually just went back to the room for some movie re-runs, seeing as it was the only entertainment left for them. That gave me half an hour to spend with London.

And so we met up by the bunker's stairs, as we usually did, and walked up.
For the last week, I'd snuck away with London for a little chat. Sometimes, we'd leave the safety of the underground bunker to go talk out on the surface. On other times, we sit in the cafeteria laughing and talking.

This time, we walk down the corridors, past the different meeting rooms and bunkers.

"Tough day, huh?" London spoke up.

I shrugged.

"You got anything you want to talk about?" London asked.

I hesitated. There was one thing on my mind.

My nightmare.

Here's the deal. A couple months ago, back in the arena, I kept having nightmares of a grey cabin in the desert where I was murdered by a tribute in chainmail armour. And it turned out that the nightmare DID become reality, only difference being that I was not murdered in the end.

It was almost as if I was some sort of psychic where I kept getting dream messages of things that..sorta came true later on.

Ever since I got to District 13 a week ago, I kept having another nightmare.

Discovering a gold chain. Finding Snow dead in his office. Being killed by some guy in a mech suit.

Every single night, I had that nightmare without fail. First the desert nightmare, now this? Would it come true too?

I wanted to tell London about this, but something held me back. The gold chain. I knew what the gold chain in my nightmare was.

Back in the arena, when Sandra, a sweet little girl from District 11, had died, she gave London her token, which was a gold chain with three doves in flight. It was the exact same chain that had appeared in my dream every night.

I didn't want to bring it up, which was why I didn't want to tell London of my dream.

"Will?" London asked.

I shook out of my thoughts.

"Um, no. Not much to talk about. Just...has our relationship been kind of strained?"

London chuckled.
"Maybe. I get that the two of us are under quite a lot of stress at this point, but we can do this. You just sneak out every day at this time, meet me at the stairs, and we can go on a short date."

London leaned in and we had a short kiss. For a fleeting moment, it felt good to be away from the hustle of the war. It felt really, damn good.

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