A/N: I would first like to thank my Beta TheMayorOfBlondeVille for reading and agreeing to help me on my story. This is my first Fanfic so comments and such are welcomed. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1: The Awakening
Present Day:
"The following prisoners:" Caesar Flickerman, the voice of the capital, reads off the teleprompter in front of him. "Mason, Johanna. Wicker, Enobaria. Qyan, Nalreim..." My name was called as I was led out into the open in shackles with at least two dozen others. The list of names goes on and on, filled with former victors and the common man. Most of which have no idea why they are there. "… are convicted of these crimes: aiding and abetting known rebels, conspiracy to commit rebellion against the Capitol, treason..." and again the list continues to the most minor crimes ever committed.
"The punishment for these crimes is Death, by means of firing squad." At these words, the first groups of prisoners were lead forward. The Peacekeepers line up behind them and at the word of their commander, open fire at the prisoners in front of them, each falling over dead with multiple gunshot wounds. As the prisoners are lead to their death, I look around the crowd. Some of the traitors are former victors that they once loved; now the crowd looks at them with hate and bloodlust. My eyes reach the president's balcony, where he and Peeta sit watching us. I smirk as I look at Peeta, whom they thought was a traitor. Yet he is the only traitor I see. As the last groups of prisoners are being called up, Johanna, Enobaria, and I are brought to the middle of stage. Forced to stand before the crowd, waiting on our death at the hands of the Peacekeepers. "Make ready…" Here it goes: my death for believing in a cause and helping those I believe can change the world. "Aim…" I hear them ready their weapons as they prepare to fire. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. But which life is it? I have lived two, one before the games and one after the games. "Fire!" I hear the gun shot. My name is Nalreim Qyan, Victor of the 72nd Hunger Games from District 10 and this is my story of how my life changed forever.
Five Years Before:
"Nal, wake up." I hear my younger brother say through the darkness. 5:45 am! Dammit, I just went to sleep, I think as I roll over and glance at the clock. Which was true, as I got home from Sarah's around 2 am. Struggling to sit up, I throw my legs off the side of my bed and sit there for a moment to try to clear up the grogginess of my mind. There is a knock on the door; I look up to see my father already fully dressed and heading downstairs.
"Nal, I need those cattle rounded up from by the lake. Bring them in before we have to head to town for the Reaping."
"Yes, Pa," I sigh as he heads downstairs.
"Nal, where were you last night so late?" My younger brother Michael asks me.
"I was with Sarah, but if you tell Ma or Pa, I will make you regret it." I threaten him with a smile. I know Michael will never say anything. We are the closest of my parents' four children. He laughs at me and we both get up and start to get dressed and ready for a long day on our ranch. After getting my boots on, we both walk down to get some breakfast before we head out.
Walking over to my mother, I give her a hug and tell her good morning. Then I grab a plate and allow her to put a number of pancakes, sausages, and some syrup on it. Sitting down next to Pa and Michael, I start to eat. After finishing, I take my plate to the sink and my sister Katy begins to clean it. As I am about to walk out the door with Michael, Jonathan comes down the stairs, look as though he slept all night. Smiling to myself, I push open the door and head to the stable to saddle the horses and wait on the rest of the hands to get there and begin the day.
After roughly twenty minutes, all of Pa's twelve ranch hands have shown up, saddled their horses and equipped themselves with the tools required for today's work. Most of the meat and animal products that come out of the district are grown and prepared in the plants in town. My family owns one of the two dozen or so ranches. We produce the open range cattle and sheep that the high class people love so much. Grabbing my whip from the table next to my horse, I mount up and wait for the others to mount. We begin our couple-hour-long ride to the lake to round up the cattle and herd them back to the house and into their pins. We need to keep them close for the sales coming up after the Reaping. My thoughts journey to this year's Reaping; it will be held in the town as it always is, but something is special about this one: it is my last. But then again, my chances are of being picked are near zero, as no one in my family has ever taken the tesserae. We have always had more than enough to survive. Therefore, our names are only in the drawing once among the thousands of other tickets. So I could assume I would be safe from being picked to take place in the Hunger Games.
"Nal, we're here. How do you want us to start?" Michael's voice rings in my ears, bringing me from my inner thoughts.
"Move them out!" I cry and give a crack of my whip, giving the orders to the ranch hands. They spread out along the back half of the herd and begin to the drive the cattle south, back towards the ranch. Moving among the cattle, cracking my whip to direct the ones that fall behind, I keep pace with the rest of the head, watching for wild animals that would endanger the herd. After a few hours, the sun starts setting. "Round them up and settle them down," I shout to the closest hands, who pass on the orders.
Once camp is set and tents were up, I take my place next to Joseph on the log we set up around the fire. "Here you go, boss," he said as he handed me a bowl of beans and a spoon.
"Thank you, Joe," I say. "This herd has a few good heads this year," I speak to the old man as I look around.
With a chuckle, he replies, "Then I expect a raise."
I laugh at his comment. "That is a matter of my father, but if I had my way, we would all get raises." After the joke, we finish our beans in silence. "Well good night, Joe. Make sure to wake me up." I stand up and start walking to my tent. "'Night, boys. We start back towards the ranch at sun up."
"'Night, boss," come the replies from around the fire. Slipping into the tent, I walk over to my sleeping bag; I slip in and fall asleep within a few moments.
Boom!
I shoot out of my sleeping bag at the sound of a gunshot. Hurrying to throw on my shirt and grabbing my whip and knife from my saddle, I rush outside. I am followed by Michael, who wields his knife. Looking around the black night, I hear another gun shot to my right and the hoarse yell rings out: "VILPARDS!" Damn, I was hoping none would mess with the herd. A vilpard is one of the most dangerous mutts the Capitol deployed during the Dark Days. Vilpards are a cross of leopards and vipers. They have the body, speed, and strength of a leopard and the scales, aggressiveness, and poisonous of a viper. These pack hunters are the most dangerous things that roam the plains of what used to be Oklahoma and Texas, or so we are told. Another gunshot brings me out of my memory. Carn runs over to me, carrying one of three .22 rifles and hands it to me.
"Boss, we have counted nine vilpards. Joe and Rider are on the hillside over there." He points to a small hilltop to our west. "They have confirmed three kills. But the vilpards have made it into the herd," he continues. Nodding, I hand the rifle to Michael, instructing him to go to the hilltop and help Joe and Rider pick off the vilpards. After giving the instructions, I take four of the hands with me.
I pull out my whip as we head into the herd, keeping a look out for vilpards. Searching through the herd for a stranger, I keep my whip ready. Many people smirk because I use this tool as a weapon to defend myself. I see a vilpard picking apart one of the heads of cattle. Instructing the men to spread out, I nod and crack the whip towards the carnivore. The whip connects on the snout of the vilpard, cutting it from the base of the snout to the nose.
Looking up from its kill with a fierce snarl, the creature begins to make its way towards me. Twirling and moving the whip in a circular motion, I bring it down once more with a crack across the back of the beast. I bring the whip back and swing it across from the side as the tip wraps around the front leg of the vilpard. I pull it back as hard as I can, and the beast becomes unbalanced and falls forward. At this time the other three hands with me jump on the beast and cut its throat and stab it numerous times. Nodding to them, we continue making our way through the herd.
The search of the herd takes an hour or so, and by that time it is sun up. The herd and the majority of the hands head back to the ranch, led by Joe and Michael, while two hands and I stay behind to count our losses. After twenty minutes of searching over the area that the herd was located, we count a total of sixteen heads of cattle lost. Sighing, I walk back to my horse. My father isn't going to be very happy, I think as I saddle up.
"Let's catch up with the others." I spur my horse to a full run with the farm hands behind me, catching up with the others only a mile or so from the ranch.
"We lost sixteen heads, Pa," I tell my father as I walk through the door after driving the herd into their waiting pins.
"How?" he asks.
"We had a vilpard attack overnight." I inform him.
Sighing, he takes a drink of his coffee. "Well, we still have over a hundred and fifty good heads." Walking over to the table and pouring myself a glass of coffee, I sit down next to Ma.
"Yes, Pa. Also, do you mind if I go into town early? I have some business to take care of." I ask, looking towards him and sipping my coffee.
"Of course son, take your brother with you and drive in fifty heads. I believe you guys can handle them don't you?" he answers, finishing his coffee and setting it down.
"Of course, Pa." I answer, draining what remains of my coffee and placing my cup next to his. "We will need some money for a room in the town," I inform him as I take both glasses to the sink.
"I'll leave some on the counter, now I need to go out and manage the herd and prepare your fifty heads for transport," he replies. Running up the stairs of our two-story ranch house, I head to the shower and turn on the hot water. I walk back to my room and grab a change of boxers and a pair of blue jeans and return to the bathroom. Shutting the door, I quickly strip my dirty clothing and slide in the shower. I sit in the shower, letting the water relax my sore muscles from the long night. After a few minutes, I quickly clean myself. Turning off the water and stepping out, I dry myself. I quickly run over the plan of the night in my head. Drive the cattle to slaughter yard, take Michael to the hotel and get the room, and then head to Sarah's. I chuckle to myself, hoping it all goes as planned. Hurrying up and dressing after cleaning my teeth and shaving, I pack up all the items I will need for the Reaping tomorrow.
Heading to my room, I put on one of my nicer shirts and pack the last of my items. I head downstairs to find Michael sitting there waiting on me. I chuckle to myself, "Are you ready, brother?" Nodding, he stands to leave. I walk over and kiss my mother on the cheek and tell her I'll see her tomorrow. Then we head out the door.
I strap on my chaps and spurs and grab my whip and knife. Placing my knife in my boot and my whip on my belt, I saddle on my horse and ride to meet Pa at the holding pen. Upon arriving, I ask my father, "They ready, Pa?" I ask as I walk the horse over to the gate.
"Yes, but a change of plans. Joe is going with you as well." Nodding, I hook up my whip and wait on Joe. Once he arrives, I crack my whip and give the order and we begin the four-hour trek towards town. Tonight, I will spend most of the night with Sarah, the love of my life. Tomorrow begins the seventy-second Hunger Games.
A/N: Comment and Reviews are welcome, I'll try to update at least once a week.