Read Mockingjay (The Final Book of The Hunger Games) for Free Online

checks his arm. “Nuclear History class. Where, by the way, your absence has been noted.”
“I have to go to Command. Come with me?” I ask.
“All right. But they might throw me out after yesterday.” As we go to drop off our trays, he says, “You know, you better put Buttercup on your list of demands, too. I don't think the concept of useless pets is well known here.”
“Oh, they'll find him a job. Tattoo it on his paw every morning,” I say. But I make a mental note to include him for Prim's sake.
By the time we get to Command, Coin, Plutarch, and all their people have already assembled. The sight of Gale raises some eyebrows, but no one throws him out. My mental notes have become too jumbled, so I ask for a piece of paper and a pencil right off. My apparent interest in the proceedings--the first I've shown since I've been here--takes them by surprise. Several looks are exchanged. Probably they had some extra-special lecture planned for me. But instead, Coin personally hands me the supplies, and everyone waits in silence while I sit at the table and scrawl out my list. Buttercup. Hunting. Peeta's immunity. Announced in public.
This is it. Probably my only chance to bargain. Think. What else do you want? I feel him, standing at my shoulder. Gale, I add to the list. I don't think I can do this without him.
The headache's coming on and my thoughts begin to tangle. I shut my eyes and start to recite silently.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me. Peeta was taken prisoner. He is alive. He is a traitor but alive. I have to keep him alive....
The list. It still seems too small. I should try to think bigger, beyond our current situation where I am of the utmost importance, to the future where I may be worth nothing. Shouldn't I be asking for more? For my family? For the remainder of my people? My skin itches with the ashes of the dead. I feel the sickening impact of the skull against my shoe. The scent of blood and roses stings my nose.
The pencil moves across the page on its own. I open my eyes and see the wobbly letters. I KILL SNOW. If he's captured, I want the privilege.
Plutarch gives a discreet cough. “About done there?” I glance up and notice the clock. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes. Finnick isn't the only one with attention problems.
“Yeah,” I say. My voice sounds hoarse, so I clear my throat. “Yeah, so this is the deal. I'll be your Mockingjay.”
I wait so they can make their sounds of relief, congratulate, slap one another on the back. Coin stays as impassive as ever, watching me, unimpressed.
“But I have some conditions.” I smooth out the list and begin. “My family gets to keep our cat.” My tiniest request sets off an argument. The Capitol rebels see this as a nonissue--of course, I can keep my pet--while those from 13 spell out what extreme difficulties this presents. Finally it's worked out that we'll be moved to the top level, which has the luxury of an eight-inch window aboveground. Buttercup may come and go to do his business. He will be expected to feed himself. If he misses curfew, he will be locked out. If he causes any security problems, he'll be shot immediately.
That sounds okay. Not so different from how he's been living since we left. Except for the shooting part. If he looks too thin, I can slip him a few entrails, provided my next request is allowed.
“I want to hunt. With Gale. Out in the woods,” I say. This gives everyone pause.
“We won't go far. We'll use our own bows. You can have the meat for the kitchen,” adds Gale.
I hurry on before they can say no. “It's just...I can't breathe shut up here like a...I would get better, faster, if...I could hunt.”
Plutarch begins to explain the drawbacks here--the dangers, the extra security, the risk of injury--but Coin cuts him off. “No. Let them. Give them two hours a day, deducted from their training time. A