28 | THE ARSENAL

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28 | THE ARSENAL

SONG PREFERENCE: Fire by Louis The Child

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SONG PREFERENCE: Fire by Louis The Child

When Greyson first stepped onto the debris covered landscape of District 8, she was greeted by a dark-skinned woman that was radiating with power. She smiled at the group and eyed Katniss and Greyson with respect.

"You're alive then; we weren't sure." She broke the silence.

"Katniss and Greyson, Commander Paylor, District Eight," Boggs introduced the two. "They've both been recovering, but insisted on coming out and seeing some of your wounded."

Something crossed over Paylor's features, nodding her head toward the direction of a rundown building. "Well, we've got plenty of those."

Greyson looked around the area, her mind clouded with the memory of her own district looking a similar way, even if District 8 was still struggling to breathe. At least they were breathing. They walked through the entrance of the shelter and was immediately hit with the stench Greyson has gotten accustomed to – death.

Dead bodies were wrapped up in sheets like a tourniquet, their decaying bodies festering up against the walls. Greyson bit down on the inside of her cheek, in the back of her mind wishing she had someone's hand to grab hold of. She wished Finnick was beside her, knowing that he wouldn't be twelve inches away from her, that he'd have his hand wrapped around her own with their pulses beating in sync. They would've been able to go through this together, like they planned to do all along.

Paylor was leading them through, stepping over discarded trash and old medical equipment. "We have a mass grave a few blocks west, but I can't spare the manpower to move them yet. Hospital's past that curtain. Any hope you can give them, it's worth it. The Capitol's done everything they can to break us." She glanced over the entire team once before continuing her walk through.

"Aren't you worried about having all your wounded in one place?" Gale asked with a frown as they passed a woman laying propped against a makeshift bed with her arm made up into a cast. Her eyes were tired and red, and they stared at the group passing by with a scarce amount of livelihood. Greyson forced herself to look ahead.

Paylor sighed, "I think it's better than leaving them to die."

Gale shook his head, "that's not what I meant."

Paylor shrugged. "Well, that's my only other option. If you can come up with another, I'm all ears. It's right through here." She approached a faded sheet of plastic that covered an entryway, and pulled it back with the help of Boggs.

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