Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor	By : CJ_Wallace Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 12259 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy and make no money off the posting of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two
I was taken aback when a few moments later I was told I had one more visitor. It seemed like my time should be up, but I waited patiently as a stylish young teen sashayed into the room. I didn’t recognize her, but that wasn’t surprising. I knew very few people. I wondered why she had wanted to see me. I refused to speak, just looking over her golden ringlet curls, her sharp sapphire blue eyes, her stunning orange and black dress that fell way past her feet.
The girl gathered the skirts and strode forward, slowly circling me. “So you did volunteer, Nara... You caused quite a stir with the recruits, you know. I rushed over as soon as I heard.”
I shrugged, my eyes set in a bored stare. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh not true, but everyone is too kind to say. Everyone knows that girl is under your protection. You got lucky that the rules changed this year.”
That interested me, but her at my back made me irritated. I clenched my hands into fists, relishing the pain in my hands. It calmed me and I huffed. “I didn’t know there was a rule change.”
“Well if you expect to survive the games, you better be pretty lucky, because you’re not very bright.”
I wanted to whirl on her, but I didn’t. I checked myself and turned to meet her gaze. “What do you want?”
The girl crossed her slender arms, cradling her small breasts, but standing in a confident manner. I could tell at once this girl had been trained with the rest of the recruits. That, and she had rich parents, with an aristocratic air about her that screamed OBEY ME! “The rule change this year was that volunteers could only volunteer after the name drawing this year. I suppose they got tired of so many fights between volunteers. We decided to hold a lottery, and whoever’s name came up, they would be allowed to speak first. Your name came up in the vote.”
My eyebrows knit together. Is that why Kingfevin was so confused by my comments? “I don’t understand... I don’t train with your group! I don't even go to that little "school" your kind set up.”
Her eyes were suddenly filled with rage and she stepped towards me. The quickness of her steps made me tense, but I relaxed and easily sidestepped her. She seemed to know I would move in that direction and quickly stuck out her elbow and spun on her heel. I caught her, and using the force of her spin, shoved her to the ground. “You’re not allowed to attack a tribute,” I growled, kicking her in the side hard. I heard her grunt and stepped back. “Get up and tell me what you’re here for! Why was my name put in the lottery, and how did I win?”
“It was a joke!” the girl spat out venomously, holding herself where I had kicked. “Silver put your name in as a joke. She said she’s seen you almost volunteer several times before, but you always chickened out! It’s not like you have parents, not like us! And you're fooling yourself if you think you have something to prove.”
The girl’s words cut sharper than any knife. “What’s your name?” I ask coldly.
“Diamond,” the girl shot back. “I have three younger siblings and both parents. Why should any of us volunteer when it was so obviously set up for you this year? Your name came up in the lottery; you had the first option to volunteer. When little Chi’s name came up in the Drawing… it seemed like fate! And then you called out! Oh it was sooo precious!" She grinned at me, her blue eyes shining brightly, but her carefully painted lips opened too widely as she laughed. "Flash had her mind set on taking your place, and she’s quite cross that you did volunteer.”
My jaw clentched as she spoke, but I kept my eyes on the floor. I didn’t like the way she said Chiara’s name, but I refused to say anything about the girl. “It doesn’t matter who was reaped. I was going to volunteer!”
“Sure you were,” the girl said haughtily. “Just like last year, and the year before.”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t ready then. I am now. You’re three years younger than me, aren’t you? You’ll have your chance.”
“Flash won’t,” Diamond pointed out. “She’s eighteen, just like you.”
“What does that matter to me?” I hissed. “If I win, she won’t be able to get even. And if I die… I’m dead. So tell me, why are you here?”
“I’m here to wish you luck. We all hope you come back a victor. If you don’t… well, then there will be no one to protect your little friend, now will there?”
My blood went cold and I resisted the urge to shudder. She had made their point clear. Come back, or Chi was as good as dead. I tossed my hair carelessly. “She’s not my problem anymore,” I replied, leveling my eyes with hers. “However, I do plan on winning. Tell Flash to place her bet on how long I’ll last. If I come home, I'll shame her publically.”
Diamond let out a high pitched laugh, one that lasted longer than it should, and chilled me. “She isn’t fooling around, Nara! She knows you’re deadly, and she knows better than to underestimate you. However, she doesn’t think you’ll win. She has put her bet on you dying in the finale.” Her smile was twisted, and showed the sick thoughts hidden in her mind.
I wasn’t fooled. I saw her lips twitch in contempt; I saw her brow pull down in anger. She had bet I’d die sooner. “I don’t know how you know what my worth is. Even I do not know. I will however come back, dead or alive. Your message is received. You may leave.”
She looked like she wanted to say more, but she flounced off.
Alone with my thoughts, at least for the moment, I gathered my strength. I wanted to scream, to cry, to race out of here… I wanted to protect Chiara. The only thing that stilled me was knowing I could never do that. No matter how I felt, I hade to hide it. Forget about it.
I grasped at my sanity like a drowning man clutched at a lifeline, but I could feel the tug gradually. When the door opened, I was startled, but I looked up from where I had collapsed to my knees. I couldn’t feel my face, but I knew it was relaxed, which means I was expressionless. That was good. Numbly, I slowly stood and walked forward, as if in a dream.
The Peacekeepers took me to the station. I rode in a car next to Jet, and only spoke once, apologizing for bumping against him when the car jostled us together. It was a hushed apology, nervous and the instant spoken, regretted. He glared at me, his cold black eyes accused me of more than my tiny transgression. I felt the words slip from my mouth again, without me thinking about it, then I turned my face from him.
As we exited the car, I could feel my face morphing into an emotionless mask. I couldn't let the crowd see my excitement nor my fear. I was a whirlwind of emotion inside, but I'd save it for the interview, or perhaps the Capitol. There were lots of cameras and people waiting at the station to see us off. I had wanted to stay a blank slate, but when a child rushed forward with a small bouquet of tiny flowers and offered them to me, I couldn't suppress a smile as I took them.
"May the odds be ever in your favor," the boy said shyly before rushing off.
I watched him for a brief second, then looked into the cameras. They wanted to see something memorable, and since no one ever did anything like this in the station, I wanted to be the first. It was then, just past the cameras I see Chiara and her parents. They’re watching me, tears streaming down every one of their faces, both of them with one hand on Chiara’s shoulder. I hadn’t known they had loved me, or even cared. Perhaps, it was gratitude for saving their girl… but in that moment, it was as if they were losing their other daughter.
There was a sad smile on my face as I dipped my nose to sniff the fragrant flowers, and when I took them away I turn back to District One, blow them all a kiss and wave good-bye. "I'll come back!" I cry. "I promise!"
I give them one last bow, my face red as my hair, then turn and walk as quickly as I can from them calling our names. I pass Jet as if he were invisible. It was my promise to Chiara, Flash, and to all of District One. They deserved a true tribute, one that would be more than just a killing brute. I would give them that at whatever cost. I begin to accept the fact that my reputation and secrets were no longer mine, unless I could make the Capitol believe my lies...
I was silently ushered to the room I would be occupying and left by Aollie, too stunned for words. Gazing about, I tugged at the sash. With nothing to do until I was summoned, I collapsed on the bed and stared at nothing. I had no concept of time and eventually I must have drifted off. I was woken by a slight sound and movement, and in an instant I was off the bed and crouched into a defensive position.
A blonde girl clothed in red stared at me silently, and I could tell looking into her eyes she was afraid of me. I relaxed and straightened slowly, holding up my hands to show her I wouldn't hurt her. "I was surprised, I'm sorry. You have to understand the stress I'm under..."
The girl nodded, but didn't answer. She had brought a stack of clothes, setting them at the end of the bed, then left without another word.
I was glad for the girl's silence. I wasn't really looking for a new friend, nor anyone to talk to. What would I say? I was going off to potentially die... there was nothing more to discuss. I figured they wanted me to change, but I was quite happy with the clothes I had dressed myself in. When I was summoned for dinner, I was still in my own clothes and the only change I had made is my sash had been tied into my hair like a headband.
Jet was already seated at the table, and glanced up when I entered the room. As I approached the table, he rose from his chair and came round to pull out my seat for me. I was surprised, but I thanked him and smiled for the first time since we left. I could smell the sweet scent of soap on him as he passed me; I turned my head away, trying not to breathe. I waited until he was seated again to pick up the platter of meat in front of me.
"You didn't change," he commented, his growling voice cutting through the awkward silence.
I glanced up, eyeing his black silk shirt that was embroidered with gold thread in no discernible pattern. His sleeves were loose and gathered at the wrist in the prettiest lace cuffs I'd ever seen, and the deep V in the front showing off an awful lot of chest. His chest hadn't been shaved, and was covered in dark curly hair. I opened my mouth to reply when the door behind me opened and I heard a flurry of footsteps. I carefully set down the platter I had taken a strip of steak from and slowly grasped my knife.
"Here they are! And Jade! You're here as well! Very good!"
I craned my head to look over my shoulder. Aollie Kingfevin was approaching with a brilliant smile, his eyes still fixed on a woman I hadn't seen before. She must have been sitting in the car when I entered and I just didn't realize. An older man followed him, just as silent as his partner, his dark features twisted into a sneer as he hung back and watched Aollie flit about. I returned my attention to the food in front of me, unconcerned.
"Been watching us, have you?" Jet snarled towards the young woman, frowning.
I assumed he had thought we wouldn't be watched every second. If that were true, he was very mistaken. Yet, I kept my ears open as I scooped mashed-up potatoes onto my plate.
I heard the woman with the pale-green spiky hair move from her window seat, standing probably. I knew her instantly, though I didn't let on. She was the victor of the first Hunger Games I ever watched, ten years ago. She had killed seven tributes in one night, and when the rest had killed each other off, she trapped the last tribute, dug a deep hole and dropped him in it, burying him alive.
"It was so cute, Aollie. He helped her into her chair like she was a lady..." the woman crooned, her tinkling laughter following just after.
I glanced up at Jet. He was livid, his face red. "I was taught manners," he snarled. "Just because we're forced to fight to the death doesn't mean we turn into wild animals."
I rolled my eyes. That's exactly what it means, I thought to myself. I tried not to think of how I had apologized to him as I forked roasted carrots onto my plate and began mashing them and mixing them with my potatoes. But I couldn't ignore the tall, dark shadow that fell over me as the male sponsor strode up to the table.
"Whatever your reason, just keep in mind that you will be fighting to the death," the man growled. "Nothing can save you from this fate, not even kindness."
I slammed my fork down and stood, whirling. "I'll have you back up, sir," I threatened, holding my knife at my side. "I feel a little uncomfortable with people coming up on me unannounced. You'll do well to remember that." I'm not really a people person to begin with, but when strangers come up behind me, I snap to the defensive. I don't care who it is, a person at my back was not to be trusted. Call it one of my rules.
The man simply sneered at me, looking down his long nose. His eyes are just as black as his curly hair and they're stern and resentful. He seems older, but he's a mentor... he couldn't be too old, could he? "This one has spirit, Jade. It seems you won't have to work as hard as you thought you would."
I did nothing more than raise my eyebrows and slowly retake my seat, finishing smashing the vegetables together on my plate viciously. I'm not hungry, I don't want to pretend to have manners, and I dislike forks. In general, I'm irritated and unpleasant, which happens for hours every day. An interesting point in my personality, to be sure, but hard to get used to.
The spiked-haired woman stood finally and switched on the television. "Good, I hate working... it's not like we have to do much anyway. Our districts' kids pretty much learn on their own. Sid, it's almost time... If you two don't mind, we'll be watching the broadcast through dinner. Someone slept late, and someone distracted us long enough for us to forget to wake her."
I was embarrassed, and I only glanced up to see who the distraction had been. I barely had time to see Aollie start to huff before I caught Jet's eye.
'Sid?' he mouthed, looking back at the man who was watching Jade talk circles around Aollie, snapping and poking him in the shoulder.
I shrug and poured gravy on my meat and potato-carrot mix, just to ruin it. I vaguely remember picking at my potatoes as I watched the announcer pop onto the television. I didn't listen carefully, too busy thinking. Jade, and Sid, who had moved away to join his friend, bantered lightly in the corner.
I had known Jade from her Games, and from reputation in the Victor's Village. I may have even met her a time or two when I was younger. Sid, I had never seen. If I had ever met him as a child, I didn't remember, but he seemed familiar to me. Something about his manner reminded me of my father, something in his look.
"He looks good this year, as usual," Jade giggled, shaking her head and wincing at the man joining the announcers on television. "Ceaser Flickerman... you strange fool."
"Maroon isn't his color," Sid commented, standing just behind her at the end of the table she was perched on, his arms crossed in front of him. "He looks tired.... maybe they'll just give him another facelift and he'll be wise-cracking even better than before."
Jade snorted and laid her head on his arm. "And there we are, the tributes-"
"Hush," I commanded, glaring at them. "This is our chance to study our enemies, right?" I knew the male was enraged by the way his back stiffened and he looked over angrily, but he didn't move.
Jade smirks and nods, seemingly impressed. She slaps Sid's arm softly, growling for him to stop, before linking her first finger with his pinky as they watch the television with us, quiet as mice. It's a strange motion, and I find myself watching their hands until the anthem starts.
Our District was first to grace the screen, and already my stomach was flipping. I knew I had started out looking weak, I knew how it seemed. Diamond was right... I looked like I was protecting Chiara. I wasn't worried. I had thousands of yarns I could spin about Chiara. I was debating going with mostly truth. Hiding our love was easy, our closeness... not so much.
The scene on the television told a different story than the one I remembered. With the sound of the District muted, and the announcers speaking, I focused only on the screen. I had thought I was afraid when I exited the crowd, I thought I had been as frightened as Chiara, but I looked calm and confident... and cold. I kept a straight face as I watched the Peacekeepers drop Chiara and rush towards me, bringing me to the stage. Her tears were still streaming down her face, but she looked bewildered as she collapsed when she was dropped. She screamed silently, I hadn't heard her say my name, but I could read lips well enough to know that she was calling for me as I mounted the steps and crossed the stage.
The expression on my face had been forced, but it looked natural and excited. As the sound returned and the scene played out, I studied my face, my expressions and my actions. They seemed natural enough, and flowed evenly with every action. When Aollie asked if Chiara was precious to me, I could feel everyone's eyes on me. My eyes were half-lidded, as if bored, but as I watched the camera zoom in, I realized an important fact.
"Where's your headband?" Jet asked quietly.
My heart leapt and my mouth tried to answer, my eyes still fixed on the television. I hadn't thought about it until now! How stupid. I touched my sash, then looked down as if deep in thought.
"It's not under there, so don't even say it is," Jet said quietly. "You didn't have it at the station. I was watching."
"Oooh!" Aollie squealed, leaning forward from his seat next to me. "That's right! You were wearing that when you went into the meeting room, but not when you came out. Did you give it to a visitor? That girl?"
I was glad I hadn't faltered on the stage, but I wished I looked as angry as I was at this moment. "The girl I saved... she has it. She wanted to give me a ring, a gift from her family for saving her life, they're jewelers." I lift my left hand and show them briefly before it dropped back to the table. "I could only have one token and I tried to refuse, but she insisted." I gave a short sigh, wondering what I should or shouldn't tell them. Lie? Truth? Both? Nothing?
"Chise?" Aollie looked concerned.
"She took my headband as collateral and made me swear a vow," I continue angrily, looking at Jet. "It concerned you, if you must know. Way I see it, if I don't come back, that headband will haunt her for the rest of her life. If I come back, I get my family heirloom back, but lose my friend. It's a win-win situation, if you think about it. That headband would have brought me luck, now it will only bring her tears."
Jet didn't look convinced, though he did express a little curiosity. "You care for that girl... everyone says so. She more than cares for you."
I calmly looked at him before looking back to the television, then the others who were watching me with interest, the broadcast forgotten. I watched as my image pointed at Chiara and snarled my message to her. I would have to speak carefully around these Capitol people, and extra carefully around Jet.
"She's... sort of like my sister." I knew it would affect the boy, and I was right. He looked away and fell into his thoughts. "She's not, of course, I'm an only child... but after my parents- Well, after they were gone, I was forced from my home; after all, children of victors can't stay in the Victor's Village after their parents die.
"Chiara's parents let me live in their guest house, but made me fend for myself. She was my only real friend... But I was going to volunteer. This year, last year... the year before that. I always chickened out. This year, I got the kick I needed. Nothing more, nothing less."
On the screen, Jet was calling out, volunteering for his little brother. I hadn't looked on the stage, and my image looked miserable on the screen. That could be misinterpreted, and I hoped it would be. "Are you afraid they'll use him against you?" I asked quietly. "The Capitol does that, you know. To keep us in line."
His black eyes snapped and fixed on my emerald eyes, smoldering with a fierce fire. "Emery is mum's favorite, and the youngest. He was so small when he was born, no one thought he'd live more than a year... It's my job to keep him safe."
I screwed my brows up in confusion. This was personal information. Was he giving it to me because he had forced me to confess? "Why?"
Jet's lips twitched, a soft smile as his eyes drifted to a point unseen. "Older brothers were born first to keep their younger siblings safe."
I liked the sound of that, it sounded noble, but he said it like it had been quoted to him his whole life.
"I swore to my mother that I'd never let them take him," Jet said softly. "She laughed at me. She said I wouldn't be able to do anything if his name was called. Not that I would be unable, but because I'd be too scared... That I wouldn't take his place out of cowardice."
I understood right off. "Your parents don't look on you favorably," I said, watching Jet's image climb the stairs on the television after pushing back his brother and the fight. It was a statement, not a question. It made more sense, watching the hardness in his eyes as he crossed the stage. He was doing his duty. Not because he wanted to, not because he promised... to make a point to his parents. They didn't want him, so he'd go to his death.
"Father never wanted more than a daughter. He figured a girl has a better chance to win than a boy; they're crafty, and more clever." His eyes flashed and he glared at the food spread between us. "When he got a son for his first child, he was disappointed. It wasn't hard to see as a child, the way he treated me... By time I was old enough to be entered, my Father had his dark daughter and Mum had a youngest son, the golden boy that would always be safe. It only figures he'd be called my last year."
I sympathized with him. Knowing I would have to try and kill him, and he would try and kill me... It gave us a gravity that we both shouldered bravely. Or maybe we were both in amazing states of shock. We watched the rest of the broadcast, sizing up our enemies. District Two's tributes were so vastly different, I wondered if it had been a mistake. The boy looked brave, his face stone-cold and his arm muscles bulged as he crossed them over his firm chest.
The girl broke down in hysterics; the small frame collapsing from fear and she lay crying and screaming on the stage. I knew she had no talent, and he was strong. She'd die in the beginning, in the blood bath... but the boy; he'd be a fierce competitor.
If they were volunteers, it wasn't revealed. I had seen in previous years that sometimes District Two had similar volunteering processes as District One, but other times there were so many volunteers they had to have some sort of method for choosing that showing it was skipped and the victors were shown for the broadcast clips. Tributes wouldn't know each other until the Reaping, and sometimes the reactions were a little strong.
"District Two certainly has an interesting display of emotion... The male tribute, Brock Stone, looks like he could snap that little girl in two!"
One year the tributes had been shown at the Reaping with blood on them, fresh blood. It never happened again. I heard they were using a form of lottery system now. You could enter your name up to thirty times for free, with no benefits. No loss, no gain, just a better chance. My bet was she hadn't expected her opponant. My bet was she didn't understand what kind of lottery she was playing.
District Three's tributes were stringy little drips of nothing. They looked at each other nervously, and I saw the thought cross their faces as they looked away sadly. They were probably friends, and now they had to think of ways to kill each other. I tried not to listen to the commentary coming from the announcers, but was unable to drown them out.
District Three's tributes were stringy little drips of nothing. They looked at each other nervously, and I saw the thought cross their faces as they looked away sadly. They were probably friends, and now they had to think of ways to kill each other. I tried not to listen to the commentary coming from the announcers, but was unable to drown them out.
"This group doesn't look like they're strong enough to take District Two's male tribute. Even if they managed to outsmart him, I think they're a scrawny looking group..."
I had to agree, because I'd had the same thought about me and the tall Brock Stone. Even if I used traps and wit, he seemed strong enough to wield an axe or hammer. District Two was known for their masons, and he looked like he did a lot of heavy lifting. He also seemed to have a spark of some intelligence himself, though in what area was a closely guarded secret. He was obviously going to be the crowd favorite.
District Four had a pair of athletic volunteers, and I knew they would pose a problem with their agility and strength. The girl looked arrogant though, and the boy too cocky... That could be confidence in both of them, or a very useful thing to use against them. I was just hoping that the Arena didn't work to their advantage; snares, nets, and traps wouldn't fool those two.
District Five and Six had no significant tributes, just starved kids standing terrified on a stage, but I watched them. Remembered their faces and their names. They were from lesser districts. Poorer districts. I didn't understand what it was to live like that, but I didn't like seeing the tributes from the lesser districts. I felt for them, knowing the odds were not in their favor, and that stupid saying was just a smack in the face.
District Seven perked my interest. They... they were laughing and high-fiving each other. Such a strange action. I had seen many Hunger Games. I watched them religiously... District Seven was Lumber. They chopped wood, dragged it around, worked it, shipped it to the Capitol... If it had to do with wood, you could bet the wood was District Seven cut. The boy was rat-like, clutching at his hands as he stood hunched on the stage next to the willowy girl. She had the prettiest white hair I had ever seen. Not grey, or even the silver of old age, but white. I can tell she has arm strength, but even still she's thin and looked like running was a pass-time.
When it's revealed they're volunteers, I can't believe it. I looked to Jet who stared at them disapprovingly. "They're both only twelve?" It slipped from my mouth so easily, I hadn't even time to stop myself. "They haven't even started living, and they're happy to throw their lives away?"
Jade stood suddenly, drawing my attention. "And why do you put so little faith in their abilities?"
I was taken aback. "I didn't say that," I said coolly, glaring at her. "I just don't believe that one should be so excited in the face of Death, no matter their age. Even the glory and the money and all the fine food in the world isn't worth the small slip one might make under pressure." Her calculating eyes were several shades darker than mine, making them look almost as black as Jet's. "It's just my opinion that one should greet death with silent resentment, they make The Hunger Games look like a joke!"
That made Sid smirk, and I returned to poking at my food and the television which were briefly showing a pair of tributes from District Eight. They looked scared, but it was muted by the look of starvation and fatigue. If they rested up and got some food in them... well, who knew, they might be worth something, but I doubted it.
The boys from Districts Nine and Ten were both built, though the boy from Nine was tanned-skinned, leaner and shorter by half a foot. He must spend a lot of time out in the sun, is my first thought. I could only be wary of them, as they drastically outweighed me and were stronger. Martial arts might be able to help if I hit the right pressure points, but I doubted it.
The boy from Ten volunteered without waiting for a name to be called, striding towards the stage. His mind had been made up from the start. He'd done what I had wanted to do before I froze up. I was also worried about his partner, beside the boy she was obviously dwarfed, but... she had a look about her that I didn't like. She wasn't afraid, she wasn't excited, or confused or worried as he walked up the steps, towering over her. She was blank, and I knew the when I saw her empty eyes.
I set my fork down and pushed away from the table, standing as two dark children were called and the scene played out. The boy was little, much shorter than the girl, but he was the bravest I'd seen a youngster look. The girl stood straight, staring defiantly at the children in the crowd, as if challenging them to volunteer for them. Of course, no one did.
I paced slowly, thinking about the expression on that girl, Sierra. Her eyes had been dead, like they had seen way too much death, and maybe even caused it. She didn't care if she lived or died. She'd be the most dangerous to me, because she had nothing to lose. I thought I would have been like her if it weren't for Chiara, and that made me stop and grip my chair angrily.
After District Twelve's miserable and starved looking tributes were announced and stood shaking like leaves on the stage, praying for a saving call they too know will never come. I sat again, and reached for a peach. I had taken a couple of bites, chewing slowly, when I realized I'd been addressed. Bewildered, I blinked and made a strangled kind of noise which I tried to cover up with a cough. "Excuse me?" I asked.
Sid rolled his eyes impatiently, as he took a seat across from me and Jade next to him. "I asked who you thought the strongest tributes were. Pay attention."
I took another bite and slipped back into deep thought. "It depends on what you mean by strongest," I mutter. "Brute strength? Maybe the male from District Two, or the one from Ten. If you take intelligence into consideration, I'm a great contender. If we're going by those who have the most chance to win..." I broke off there. I didn't want to give Jet any advantage by telling him something he might not know. He didn't know faces like I do, he couldn't know people like I do. "I don't know. They're all dangerous, they're all fighting for their life and they're all trapped. Even a cornered mouse will strike at the cat in its final moments, knowing the cat has the upper hand... In some ways, I think the mouse seeks death to escape the pain. In this game, however, we're each a cat and a mouse; both hunter and hunted. Tricky as it may seem, I'm fairly confident in my abilities, as long as I can stay ahead in the game. A mouse building a cat trap is improbable, not impossible."
Jet looked doubtful, but whether it was in my words or in himself I wasn't sure. "That tribute from District Two is a formidable opponent..." he said slowly. "And the boy from Ten... the only way he'd be killed is if he was killed by several tributes. However, he has a good chance of being part of the Pack."
"Anyone can be poisoned," I murmured, staring at the table. I blinked, then shrugged. "Of course... one would have to find poison, which may either be easy or extremely difficult and pointless. Them aside, I'm worried about the little ones from District Seven. There's something not right about those kids, and I don't want to know why they're so... disconnected. They seem close, which is bad. If they can't be separated, they will have to be killed together. Which means one would need an ally to have a chance of keeping up with them."
Jade beamed at me, Sid remained stoic and silent. "You're really good at evaluating your enemy, Chise," she praised.
I slowly gave her a mysterious smile, showing a little teeth. "I had a good teacher. What I'm best at is keeping the most helpful information to myself and entertaining others with information that seems important. That will come in handy when I have to kill this one." I jabbed my thumb in Jet's direction and offered him a wink as I took another bite of the sweet fruit in my hand. He scowled.
Aollie switched off the television and joined us at the table, looking at our plates in disappointment. "We've offered the best foods and you two have barely picked at your plates... Are you not hungry? Or do our tastes not suit you?"
Jet lowered his head and obediently picked his fork up and began to eat again.
I glanced at the plate I had pushed away disdainfully. "I'm sorry, I've been too used to tack bread and gruel. I'm afraid meat and vegetables take time to eat. Besides, very important business is taking place. Adults talking." I took another bite and held up my peach as I chewed. I looked to Sid and stared until he met my eyes. "Sid, can you tell me about the Arena? Obviously you have no clue what's going to be in it, but can you give us basics? What are the most important things to remember? If you had only one piece of advice to give, what would it be?"
Sid's black eyes were hard as he studied me. "The most important thing for you two to remember is that once you're in the arena, you're on your own. Trust no one." He looked into my eyes, then to Jet, studying us to see how far his message had sunk.
This is nothing new for me. I didn't trust people anyway, part of my rules. I knew as much as I love Chiara, I'd never be able to trust her. I had already pondered if she had told her mother about her love for me. I wondered if she had said anything to anyone, and if so, what exactly she had said. Trust was something to be measured, and no one got close. "Are there any guidelines we should stick to?"
"There aren't rules, but if there is one thing you must be clear on, it's the first minute in the arena." He stands, setting a hand on Jade's shoulder, then down the length of the table on their side. "You'll be launched into the arena from underground and you MUST stay on those platforms until the gong sounds. I can't stress this enough. It's just sixty seconds. It's sixty seconds of neutrality, of rest, and most importantly, time to think. Use it to survey the scene, your enemy, and make a decision for when you are able to move."
Jade shook her head, staring at the food spread between us. "If you try to jump off too soon... BOOM!"
Jet was startled and overturned his glass of blue drink. He frowned and mopped it up with a napkin, and mine when I tossed it to him.
"You'll be blown up," Jade finished simply, her voice sullen as she picked a leg of a small fowl I didn't recognize and bit into the meat.
"Yeah," I say slowly, chewing another bite of apple. "We gathered that from the boom."
Her dark eyes looked up, hurt beyond words. She looked miserable. "I've seen it happen, it's not pretty."
I'd heard that before, but the way she said it made me wonder. "You were there?"
Jade stared at me solemnly, then looked at Sid.
The man leaned on the table. "I was on the other side of the tribute who died. The fool thought he could launch over it, and he was an excellent jumper. I had just enough time to wipe his blood off my face before the gong sounded."
I say nothing, but I understand. The shock and terror of a tribute's death being spattered in your eyes would make for a poor start.
"Anything that disrupts the pressure plates around the platform will set off the explosives," Sid assured us. "In the beginning, the early games, people used to get nervous and slip, but that rarely happens now."
Jade was at his side, silent and unexpected. She hugged his arm and rested her head against him. "When you stand on that platform, you will cherish that minute. It will feel like the shortest moment in your life, so use it wisely. As long as you stay on the platform and don't drop anything, you'll live through it."
I tucked that away and looked bored. "And after the gong sounds? Any tips on that?"
"Run.” It was all Sid offered. It was all that needed to be said.
Jade piped up at that point. “Seeing as you two will probably be safe, the Cornucopia will be full of weapons and food, as well as sleeping bags and blankets... anything you'll need. Still, it may be hazardous. Even Careers turn on each other. The allies you make aren't to be taken lightly; sometimes promises made were just to get you to lower your guard."
Jet looked abashed. "You want us to work with them?"
I gave him a haughty look. "It's the easiest way to gain trust. Offer something of yourself in return for something of someone else's. However, if you're useful and don't pose much of a threat, you'll live longer. I'm sure more tributes will turn on Brock before us. Everyone wants that one dead. Besides, it's not like they'd do it right off... not until the useless tributes are gone usually."
Sid nodded, looking pointedly at Jet. "She's quite right. These games don't just test your physical capabilities; they test your mental skill as well. What you do, how you do it, and how you get away with it is all part of the game. Not to say it won't have consequences, they most likely will, so keep that in mind as well."
"You told us to trust no one. How are we supposed to work with them, or each other, if we can't trust them?" Jet had put his fork and knife down, glaring defiantly at the mentor. "What kind of twisted logic is that?"
"The kind that keeps you alive," Jade said sharply. "You haven't seen it yet. You don't know the sort of things you will allow yourself to do just to win! Just to end it all and go home! You'll promise things one second just to get them to turn around. Five minutes later you're running for your life to the sound of a cannon, hoping that no one is nearby, that you don't stumble into a trap, that your lungs don't give out. Every choice you make, everything you do, will be watched. It will be remembered. If it is found to be unlikeable, there will be repercussions."
Her tone sounded ominous, and her story chilled me. I got the message immediately. "We're not going to be just fighting each other in the arena. We'll be fighting the game and the people pulling the strings as well?"
Sid wrapped his arm around his steamed and flustered partner, giving her arm a squeeze. "Sharp. You'd be wiser to control your tongue."
I fumed, but bit my tongue and pressed my lips into a line.
"I've seen many things the Gamemakers have done to kill off tributes that got too... unruly," he continued. It didn't take a genius to see he was remembering his game, but he was unwilling to say any more about it. "The things you say and do will be reflected in the arena. If you anger the Gamemakers, you will be a target for their cruelties. You, or your family. Or your friends."
Jet was brooding, but he said nothing and refused to look at anyone. I had little time for this attitude, this was the time to learn as much as we could. So I continued, still addressing him. "Allies could come in handy though, especially if we don't want District Two winning another year. We're smart enough to realize we can't win this all on our own until the end..."
"I'm not working with you if that's what you're getting at," Jet spat, shoving his plate away and standing. His chair clattered back from the force of his push, and he stared at it nonchalantly. "I may find allies, but not you."
Sid stepped closer to the table, leaving Jade who twisted around him like they were dancers, and looked between us. "It may actually be to your advantage to get an early ally, most Districts will have had this conversation hours ago! You saw District Seven, you know they're going to be inseparable until the end. They may even be family, you don't know."
Jet shook his head and crossed his arms stubbornly. "I understand the practicalities of it, but I refuse to fight next to her. I don't trust her. She might try to kill me while I slept!"
I shrugged, grinning. "He'd be right, I'd slit his throat for the cameras and then pray to the Capitol, thanking them for my kill." I laughed a little and took another bite of my peach, watching Aollie's face as he tried to process my comment and figure out if I was kidding.
"Don't get me wrong, though, I'd wait until it was warranted. Like if you become disabled, or useless, or sick," I nodded, as if it were only practical. "Anyway, I don't like to bog myself down with a lot of people, and I already planned on being on my own." I looked to Jet, grinning smugly. "If you really don't want to fight with me, I'll be sure to join the Pack so you can't change your mind and come crawling back. I'll let them know that you're not to be trusted and we'll come after you first... so don't even run to the Cornucopia."
Jet scowled, running his hands through his black curly hair roughly. "You do what you like. Tell them I said they're all going to die by my hand! It's not like I care very much what happens to me!"
I shook my head. "You still don't understand how these games work, do you? Are you going in to die? Fine, even I can teach a child. If you want to save your sorry hide, if you really want to make mummy and daddy proud for you saving your little brother that they love even more than you... At least take Jade's advice. Run for your life, Jet. I won't be the loner because I'm scared or I have nothing to live for; I'll be the one playing nice to have some security for the first night, and maybe the second."
"Now stop it!" Jade shouted, her face bearing a similar resemblance to Sid's steely gaze. "That's no way to treat each other. You're going to be seeing a lot of each other, and your enemies, in the coming week. You have to at least be civil! There's no way these two are going to get sponsors Sid! They're impossible!"
"Just when I thought they were good, this childishness starts," Sid said in a low growl. "Children or not, you are now warriors. You have no choice in the matter. I think I'd like to take the girl Jade, she's more malleable and stable. You like resistance, take the boy."
Jade nodded. "Very well. That's enough for today. Get some sleep, we'll be pulling into the Capitol in the early morning. Don't speak to each other, don't speak to your Avox, ever, in fact, no speaking at all until morning."
"Practice patience," growled Sid, shaking his head in disgust and turning his back on us to walk away.
I glared at the boy across from me and smooshed my peach pit into my mashed potatoes before standing and stalking out of the room. I didn't want to eat too much anyway. Getting used to a certain amount of food, then overstuffing myself was bound to be a bad idea anyway. I slammed my door and began to pace to calm myself.
I thought about what our mentors had said, remembering all I could about the tributes, wishing I had pen and paper to record my thoughts. The sky was grey outside, making it hard to tell what the time was, but it felt late. I had done either too much thinking today, or too little, and couldn't decide which.
I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. As I drifted off, I went through the tributes' names silently, over and over.
Chise Nara; District 1, 18 years old, Female Tribute.

Jet Crowley; District 1, 18 years old, Male Tribute.
Cairn Slate; District 2, 16 year old, Female Tribute.

Brock Stone; District 2, 17 years old, Male Tribute.
Switch Johnson; District 3, 17 years old, Female Tribute.

Tessla Nyquist; District 3, 14 years old, Male Tribute.
Amia Gill; District 4, 15 years old, Female Tribute.

Ray Shoal; District 4, 13 years old, Male Tribute.
Jewel Watts; District 5, 12 years old, Female Tribute.

Daniel Volta; District 5, 16 years old, Male Tribute.
Charon Flash; District 6, 13 years old, Female Tribute.

Aken Lato; District 6, 15 years old, Male Tribute.
Yew Baccata; District 7, 12 years old, Female Tribute.

Cypress Lawson; District 7, 12 years old, Male Tribute.
Florance Silk; District 8, 13 years old, Female Tribute.

Hodden Grey; District 8, 15 years old, Male Tribute.
Poppy Fields; District 9, 14 years old, Female Tribute.

Rye Pliny; District 9, 18 years old, Male Tribute.
Sierra Brand; District 10, 16 years old, Female Tribute.

Bos Maverick; District 10, 17 years old, Male Tribute.
Cherry Meadow; District 11, 15 years old, Female Tribute.

Berry Toyon; District 11, 12 years old, Male Tribute.
Mallow Garland; District 12, 17 years old, Female Tribute.

Peat Hilt; District 12, 13 years old, Male Tribute.
Some of them sounded weird, like they were out of a story, or made up... but those were the names of those doomed to die, and they ought to be remembered by someone. Before I knew it, my eyelids were getting heavy and I was slipping in and out. Feeling uncomfortable, I sit up in bed and hug one knee to my chest, resting my head on it. I would sleep that way all night.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor