Death was inevitable. Everything that had ever lived had died and everything that would ever live would die. When it came wasn't something you got to choose, it might be sickness, hunger, a mill accident or the day when your body simply ceased to function anymore. For some, getting old was the best way to go. For others, getting old was just burdening your family. Death was inevitable; I took comfort in that. Accepting that made it far less frightening.
Death was the whole purpose of the Games. The Capitol let the Districts kill each other because it was smarter than killing us themselves and uniting all the Districts with hate for the Capitol. It was hard to keep in mind that it was actually the Capitol responsible for you being in an arena hellhole when you were facing two dozen people who wanted to kill you, even if they only wanted you dead because it meant they could live. The only time we ever saw people from other Districts was on the screen, killing our people. When you saw a six foot four, hundred and eighty pound, eighteen year old Career sword-wielding tribute from District 2 gleefully disembowelling a twelve year old from your District, how could you not think of them as the enemy?
Everyone hated the Careers. They were the ones who went into the Games willingly, eagerly. They were hungry to kill for the first time, at least I hoped they were. There were rumours from time to time that the illicit training District 1, 2 and 4 received included actually killing.
The metal plate began to ascend and I closed my eyes. Above me the cylinder opened and light hit my eyelids and I waited until the plate stopped moving before opening them. I had been expecting scorching sands or barren rock but instead there was simple, short green grass. There was a pleasant breeze as well, cooling and comforting after the cylinder.
A tremble shook my left knee for a moment. I was actually here, in an arena, for real.
There was a blue pack close by. In the Cornucopia there was an arsenal but all I was interested in was that blue pack. Death may have been inevitable but I didn't want to go down in the bloodbath, faceless and forgotten. I might have ignored Ellis but he had been adamant about setting your sights on a pack at the Cornucopia, getting it and getting it out. I wondered about his Games that had made him so firm about avoiding the Bloodbath.
I could see the terror in female 7 to my right and a steely resolve in female 3 to my left. 3 was all of thirteen years old and yet seemed more confident than 7 who was sixteen. I wondered how I looked. I hoped I looked serene. That would confuse them in the Capitol. I hadn't stood out. I hadn't taken part in anything, I had to be in the Games but that didn't mean I had to take part in the pageantry. Ellis had given up on me, focusing all his attention on June. I could see her from here. I hoped I didn't see her again. June and I barely knew each other but I definitely didn't want to be the one who killed her. I didn't think that I even had it in me to do so. How did you kill someone who asked you if you had slept well only hours earlier?
The gong sounded and I sprinted without a thought, aware of the movement either side of me. My eyes swept over everything and as I reached the blue pack that was the centre of my attention and snatched it up, I saw F3 shoot past. Whatever she was going for, she was willing to risk her life for, plunging deep into the bounty surrounding the Cornucopia. As I turned to flee, I saw M1 and M2 busy gutting M8 with F2 and F4 covering them and threatening anyone else who might dare try and take anything from their trove. The Careers had planned their alliance ahead, right from the first day in the Training Centre. In seconds they would have all the weapons and would kill everyone they could. F12 went down with a knife in the throat as she tried to flee with a red pack of her own, like the one I had.
I ran with my one item, fleeing literally for my life, into the woods and I wasn't prepared for how that actually felt, knowing I could be cut down from behind by a spear or throwing knife. The moment I was out of the open, I felt myself relax. I had spent my life in the mills and open space wasn't something I was used to so the confines of the trees soothed the terror that had sprung suddenly as I had run.
I hit something warm and soft, something that gave way under me. I shoved myself back up and looked into the eyes of F11, fifteen years old and flaxen haired, empty handed. I stood and she remained on the ground, frozen in terror. What was I supposed to do? Kick her to death? I ran, leaving her there.
Death was inevitable.
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The pack contained a sleeping bag which was brilliant. There were some crackers, salted, as Ellis had warned they would be. It was a Gamemakers joke to provide sustenance that made you thirsty. There were some strips of dried meat which was better. There was a canteen, empty. Full canteens would have been found further in, much further. I had no water but I did have iodine, to make any water I found drinkable. There was also a packet of matches though I definitely wouldn't be stupid enough to start a fire. For some reason there was a coil of wire. Ellis had called this standard when he had telling us we should grab a pack and run. We were fortunate, he had warned we might be thrown into an arena with no supplies whatsoever. I had been scared of a desert or mountain and instead I was here in the woods.
I stopped running and walked, marvelling at the feel of being surrounded on all sides by trees. The instructors had done their best to try and instruct me about… nature. It hadn't really taken. I understood machines, not greenery.
But I did know that you had to go downhill to find water. I was now going uphill. I wanted to put as much space between myself and the Careers as possible but it seemed I had to stay close. I hoped it was true that the closer you were to danger, the further you were from harm.
I wandered on through the trees. The first time in my life when I had been free and I was going to die. I wondered how large the arena was. Big arenas were rare; keeping us close to one another ensured more action, something to keep the audience interested. A big arena meant more time for me to enjoy the freedom of open space.
It was night by the time I reached level ground and found to my surprise, a river. A whole river. The river at home was a slow wide thing. This river was fast and narrow. I had often wondered about the arenas, whether there was just one and they changed the interior of it or if they built new arenas every Games. I filled my canteen, adding a few drops of the iodine.
Night came on cool. My outfit was decent and the hood kept the chill off my ears and I had the sleeping bag. I just needed to find somewhere to sleep. The first night the Careers always went hunting, trying to eliminate as many tributes as possible before they could scatter and go to ground. Combined with the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, half of the tributes always died on the first day and night.
Eventually and with the light about gone, I found a nook to sleep in. It was not a cave, it was a nook. It was a tiny spot I could curl up in and unless someone happened to step right by, I wouldn't be found in the night.
I ate a couple of crackers and a strip of beef, enough to take the edge off. They called them the Hunger Games though few of us were strangers to hunger. The Careers, they were the ones who would feel the hunger, if they didn't enjoy the stockpile of supplies.
The anthem I had always found oddly provocative. It was a powerful tune. I liked it but also hated it because of what came next. Up in the sky appeared the face of M3 followed by M4. That was a surprise, usually all the Careers survived the first day. Someone must have gotten in a lucky hit. F5 was down, F6, both from 7, M8, M10, both from 11 and both from 12. 11 and 12 rarely made it.
Twelve of us left. June was out there somewhere. Little F3 was still going. F7 had bought it. There were five Careers to watch out for. Five Careers… I wondered how smart it was to have half of your competitors die on the first day. Five boys, seven girls remaining. Often enough there were more girls than boys at the end of the first day, the boys considered each other greater threats so they killed one another while the girls got away.
I had scored a five. Aside from the Careers, most of the high scores had died today. Being a nobody, I hadn't been anyone's priority. Had one of the Careers been chasing me and gutted the flaxen haired girl from 11 I had knocked down, giving me a chance to get away? If so, I was already responsible for a death. Perhaps she had gotten a little further.
Five Careers to worry about.