The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (The Hunger Games, #0)

by Suzanne Collins

People had short memories. They needed to navigate the rubble, peel off the grubby ration coupons, and witness the Hunger Games to keep the war fresh in their minds. Forgetting could lead to complacency, and then they’d all be back at square one.

This reaping day, like most, was shaping up to be a scorcher. But what else could you expect on July 4th?

“And last but least, District Twelve girl . . . she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

“What is it?” he asked. “Aren’t you happy? District Two, the boy — that’s the pick of the litter.” “You forget. I’m part of that litter,” said Sejanus hoarsely.

“It will only take a handful to get the word out,” said the Grandma’am. “It’s just the kind of story that catches fire.”

Then she looked him in the eye, and impatience tinged her voice. “You could start by thinking I can actually win.”

“Well, you know what they say. The show’s not over until the mockingjay sings,” she said. “The mockingjay?” He laughed. “Really, I think you’re just making these things up.” “Not that one. A mockingjay’s a bona fide bird,” she assured him. “And it sings in your show?” he asked. “Not my show, sweetheart. Yours. The Capitol’s anyway,” said Lucy Gray.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of anger. What good were any of these unless she could use them to defend herself? What was he doing but dressing her up to be a pretty corpse?

“That’s your son in there? What’s he doing?” asked the Grandma’am, aghast. “He’s putting bread crumbs on the body,” said Ma. “So Marcus has food on his journey.” “His journey where?” asked the Grandma’am. “He’s dead!” “Back to wherever he came from,” said Ma. “It’s what we do, back home. When someone dies.”

song. Coriolanus felt sure he’d spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight.

When they’d all piled onto the truck to head back to the base, the major said, “I should’ve warned you about the birds.” “What are they, exactly?” asked Coriolanus. The major snorted. “A mistake, if you ask me.” “A muttation?” Coriolanus persisted. “Of a kind. Well, it’s them and their offspring,” the major said. “After the war, the Capitol let all the jabberjay mutts loose to die out, and they should’ve, too, all being male. But they had an eye for the local mockingbirds, and the birds seemed willing enough. Now we’ve got these mockingjay freaks to deal with. In a few years, all the jabberjays will be gone, and we’ll see if the new ones can mate with one another.”

“We should kill them all.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. “Kill them all? Why?” said Dr. Kay in surprise. “They’re unnatural.”