A/N: So this is a pilot piece, I want to see how something like this will be received. I am not Haymitch, not am I the best writer. But I am always looking to improve, so if you can leave me a review with constructive criticism or advice that would be lovely. I am terrible at naming people also, so if you want to leave a review or PM me with a potential name for a tribute that would be much appreciated! Hopefully future chapters will be longer than this one. Disclaimer: I am not President Snow and therefore do not own the Hunger Games. Extra Special Thanks go to ILostMySock, who was an angel and went through 23 pages of HG fanfics just to see if there was something like this even though I never asked her to.
50th Anniversary Quarter Quell
Before them was a steep cliff, behind were the woods and field they had just left. He could see all the way to a large lake, if they could make it down there maybe they could find a way out of the arena; some little hole that the Game-makers had overlooked.
"Haymitch."
He turned to look at Maysilee; the setting sun was turning her golden hair a fiery orange.
"I think we better call it quits now."
She looked him straight in the eye and waited for his response, obviously she had been thinking about this for a while. He knew this moment would come, he'd been wondering when he should cut her off, now she was doing it for him. Yet, there was a part of him that desperately wanted them to stay together; they could find a way through this.
"Are you sure?" his voice was rough and scratchy from dehydration.
She stuck her hand out,
"Yeah. We are down to five tributes, and I don't want it to end up just the two of us."
He took the proffered hand, a little reluctantly.
"Ok, see you around I guess."
She smiled a little at that.
"Yeah, no. I don't think we will, but it was nice to know you. Best of luck to you, Haymitch."
"It was nice to know you too, Maysilee."
She turned and ran off towards the field from where they had come, her golden hair streaming behind her, like the tail of a comet. He was going to miss her.
But he wasn't really the sentimental type. Turning around he continued to look beyond the cliff; it looked like there might be a way he could get down, until about halfway. At the middle point, there was a sheer cliff that extended for a solid thirty feet and from there to the bottom there were only minimal handholds. It would take some serious skills to manage the descent; he picked up a pebble and threw it over the edge. For a few moments it plummeted to the ground, but before he could blink again it whizzed back by his ear.
What?
Why had it come back? It made no sense for the rock to come up, did it?
He wasn't a genius, but flying rocks...wait, it started making some crazy kind of sense.
He started to laugh as everything came together in his mind. Of course the Capitol would pen the tributes; they were all prize money-makers, there had to be a way to corral them without a visible fence.
A shriek pierced the air behind him; something deep in him knew exactly who it was. The sprint he made towards the sound would have broken records.
But he was too late.
He knew when he saw her, tearing towards him with the flock of pink birds behind her, that he could not help her. He still ran as fast as he could to try. The killer candy-colored monsters caught up to her just before he was able to; needle sharp beaks hit her from behind, piercing through flesh and sinew. She went down with another blood curdling scream, one that went straight through his heart. With a hurried movement he ripped off his jacket and used it to swat at the birds, yelling at them, swinging his knife wildly through the air. Eventually they scattered and he was left there, panting as they flew back to the forest.
Maysilee was curled on her side, alternately retching and trying to breathe. He knelt at her side and lifted her gently holding her supported against his left knee; he brought his right hand up to her throat and pressed gently in an attempt to stem the bleeding. But he could already tell it was useless. She smiled up at him, though her eyes were clouded with pain.
"You idiot." She managed to say, "you aren't supposed to be here, we split...remember."
"People say I'm stubborn."
She swallowed convulsively, her blue eyes screwing up with the effort; he gripped her hand tightly until she opened them again.
"We'll get out of here Maysilee," He whispered, leaning in close. "I think I found a way out."
"Found...my...way." She whispered, the words coming with difficulty.
"No, I mean together, alive. We'll go home."
They had only met a few days before, they had been thrown together by accident, yet somehow it was no accident. He didn't want to admit to anyone how much he would miss her.
She placed a hand on the side of his face, leaving it there for a moment before letting it fall.
"Win..." She whispered her eyes still boring into his. Something passed behind them and she was no longer looking at him, she was no longer looking anywhere.
She was gone.
He laid her on the ground, folded her arms over her chest, and closed eyelids over sky-blue orbs that would never see again. He turned and left her lying there in the field; let the hovercraft come to collect the dead. He could feel her blood drying on his face and his hand, it only hardened him. He didn't want to escape anymore, he wanted to kill every tribute in this arena, he wanted to win this game to spite every Capitol dweller who had ever doubted the citizens of district twelve, he wanted to win for the girl who had asked him to, and for everyone at home who had not.
He turned his back on the cliff and the body of Maysilee Donner, in front of him stood the forest and, somewhere within it, the remaining three tributes.
He began to run.
