This is the story of Felix, the District 12 tribute from my story For the Sins of Their Fathers. It is the series of moments that make up his life. I hope you enjoy it.
The rain drips down. Soggy ashes clog the streets. The people of District 12 keep their heads down as they go about their business. And at the outer edge of the Seam, buried in the labyrinth of twisting streets, in a tiny ramshackle house, a woman screams in labor.
There is no midwife for the poorest of the poor. The woman arches her back in agony, her hair plastered to her forehead. The rain, dripping from a leak in the roof, is her only comfort. Her husband is slaving in the mines. He hadn't wanted to go to work today, not with his wife's belly swollen, ready to burst.
After an eternity of desperate breaths, the woman delivers a baby boy. She is too exhausted to name him.
Felix never knows anything except the crushing grip of poverty. There is never enough food for a young growing boy, even though his father works in the mines so much that he never sees the sun. But Felix enjoys his childhood, filled with happy memories of his mother's laughter, himself wreaking havoc on the household, his mother chasing him, and finally, his mother screaming at him before she collapses in laughter again. Repeat five times a day. When Felix is old enough, his mother shoves him in school to keep him out of trouble.
His teachers soon learn that the shaggy-haired boy is a troublemaker. Not that the other kids aren't, this being District 12. But things tend to disappear from the classrooms—charcoal pencils, an atlas with colored maps, metal thumbtacks—and then reappear in the Hob a couple months later. The teachers can never quite prove it, even though they watch the skinny black-haired boy like a hawk. Still, Felix, due to his inability to keep still, spends more than his fair share of time in the corner.
Felix is always the first one out of the shabby one-room schoolhouse when the bell rings. Ash flies through the air as the children gather to play ball or jump rope. Felix usually wins the impromptu foot races, and he's legendary at tag. As the sun sets, Felix heads to the Hob. One blink of his big golden eyes, and he's able to convince the most hard-hearted merchant to give him a few more coins. And then he races home, and his mother scoops him up, and he gives her the money, telling her that, once again, he found money on the ground. Then, he retreats to the corner of the house, settling down on the floor, the wood worn thin here, and takes out the treasures he couldn't bear to sell. Like the atlas. Felix mouths the names of long-lost places as he traces the map with a grimy finger. Chicago, London, Rome, Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Johannesburg, Moscow. Someday, he'll get out of District 12. Somehow.
When Felix is eight, his mother tells him that she's going to have a baby. "A new sibling for you to play with, my lucky charm," she says, cradling his face. "Won't that be fun?"
Felix wrinkles his nose. He isn't so sure. Joris Cumin's mother just had a baby girl, and Joris said he never got any sleep anymore, because the baby was always screaming. But he doesn't want to disappoint his mother. She's too pretty to be in the Seam, trapped by layers of ash. But here she is, her fine brown hair clogged with dust, her slender hands calloused. She was born here and she'll die here.
"Yeah. New baby. Cool."
His mother laughs, ruffles his hair, and tells him to go play outside.
But the new baby is not a good thing. Felix watches as his mother gets rounder and rounder, her swollen belly at odds with her slender body. She waddles around, her pregnant belly often getting in the way of her housework. In the middle of a stiflingly hot summer night, thick with soot and mosquitoes, she gives birth. Felix huddles in his room, the walls too thin to block out her screams. This is the one time of day his father is home, and Felix hears his low voice muttering words of comfort to his wife.
By daybreak, one new life has been exchanged for another. Felix's father doesn't let him see his mother's empty body. The new baby sobs, ignored in the corner. A neighbor woman comes by later, tuts at the state of the baby—"He's soiled his diapers, poor lad"—and volunteers to care for him for a while. Felix's father ignores her.
It is a beautiful day when they bury Felix's mother. Felix stands uncomfortably close to his father. His father's eyes are red with grief and alcohol. Anger burns in Felix's stomach. If this baby wasn't born, his mother would be alive. He wants to tear his nameless brother from Mrs. Cartwright's arms, throw him into the grave, and bring his mother back. His mother understood him perfectly, knew why he didn't like school, told him stories at night about fierce warriors and beautiful maidens. His father, his whole life swallowed up by the mines, is a stranger.
As the days drip past, Felix's anger fades to numbness. To cover up the pain, Felix gets louder and louder at school, more and more things disappear, and Felix spends more and more time in the corner.
Mrs. Cartwright cares for the baby, becoming a common sight in Felix's home. "I don't think anyone told me what his name was," she tells Felix two weeks after his mother's death. Felix is at a loss. But he's sure as hell not going to ask his father, who hunches in the corner every night with a glass of whiskey.
"Max," Felix says. Mrs. Cartwright blinks. "Oh, how nice, dear. What a precious name for a precious baby."
After a couple months, Mrs. Cartwright decides that neighborly charity only extends so far. "I've got my own children. You understand, don't you, Felix? Now you tell your father to by milk at the market to keep the wee lad fed, you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Felix says, bobbing his head. After Mrs. Cartwright bustles out the door, Felix stares at his brother. Max's face is pink and scrunched up. Of course, he's not going to tell his father anything, not if he doesn't want to get smacked in the face. And his father has no interest in the child that killed his wife, which means that Felix is going to have to drop out of school. He would be happy about this, except he knows that his mother wanted him to go to school, despite the complaints from both him and the teachers, and that he's going to be stuck caring for his baby brother.
For three years, Felix cares for his brother, while dodging his father's fists. He shoves a bottle of milk into Max's tiny mouth three times a day, and lets the baby crawl around outside with no pants on so there's nothing to clean. When Max naps, Felix takes it upon himself to rustle up some money. He and his father have a silent agreement. His father will spend his wages from the mine on alcohol, and it's up to Felix to find food for himself and milk for the baby, and also a dinner for his father if he doesn't want to get hit. Of course, he often gets hit anyways.
Since Felix is not in school anymore, where there's a treasure trove of objects just begging to be stolen, he robs the citizens of District 12. On payday for the miners, he immerses himself in a crowd of exhausted men and slips his twiggy hand in and out of their pockets. Most miners never notice the skinny dark-haired kid. And Felix is able to outrun the few that do. Most Peacekeepers aren't interested in chasing a petty pickpocket. On other days, he slips down in the Hob, poaching trinkets from unwary merchants. It's not enough to survive on, but Felix survives anyways.
Max grows into a pudgy toddler, and as soon as he can walk, Felix drags him out to be the decoy. Few people can resist his dark curls. At home, Felix tries to keep Max out of his father's path, shunting him off to the tiny room the brothers share while he prepares his father's dinner. His father doesn't spend as much time in the mines as before his wife's death. Less time in the mines means less money which means Felix has to pickpocket more.
His father shoves him up against the wall one night, his breath stinking of alcohol. "Money, kid, I need money."
Felix reaches into his pockets but he only has a few coins left over after buying food and a new shirt for Max. Hand shaking, he passes the coins over.
"Not enough," his father growls.
"I don't have any more," Felix protests, holding his hands up. His father curses.
"Lazy kid, spending all my money."
"The reason you don't have any money is because you drink it all!" Wrong thing to say. Felix clamps his mouth shut as his father glares at him.
"You stupid, lazy kid." Each word is punctuated by a blow. "Ungrateful wretch. After all I do for you."
Felix tries to duck, but he's trapped against the wall.
"Felix?" It's Max. Felix curses inwardly as he sees his little brother standing in the doorway. "You said you'd tell me one of Mommy's stories."
His father's eyes narrow. He shoves Felix to the floor and stumbles drunkenly over to his younger son. Felix's stomach curdles in dread.
"Get out of here," his father slurs. "Before I decide to teach you a lesson, too. Your mother's dead because of you, you ungrateful brat!"
Max's dark eyes well with tears and he runs, sobbing from the room. Felix, meanwhile, edges out the door and into the night. Heart pounding, he listens to his father rage for a few more minutes. Once he's collapsed into a drunken stupor, Felix tiptoes back inside.
"Felix?" his brother asks. "Why was Daddy hitting you?"
"Because he's a drunken sot," Felix says.
"Why did he say Mommy's dead because of me?" Max asks, his lower lip trembling.
Felix sighs. As much as he blamed his brother for his mother's death, he's finding it harder to do so now. "Because he's a drunken sot. Now if you shut up, I'll tell you a story."
When he is twelve, Felix realizes that he can do more with girls than dunking their pigtails into the inkwell or scaring them with snakes. The older boys of the Seam, the ones who've dropped out of school, give him their best flirting tips and set him loose on the girls in their frayed dresses coming out of school. Felix shoves his hair out of his eyes and asks them if it hurt when they fell out of heaven. Some of them roll their eyes and saunter off, but others giggle. Felix is rewarded with his first kiss from a little blonde girl.
Living in the Seam is tough. Caring for a baby brother whose birth killed your mother is even tougher. But Felix's anger dissolves into apathy and then grudging affection for his brother. As Max grows up, Felix realizes his brother isn't particularly smart, but with his mop of dark curls, he's perfect for distracting his targets. Now that Max is older, Felix is able to spend more time out on the streets. He's not the only pickpocket, but he's the best. At least, that's what he tells Max. Max, for his part, is a bit bothered by being an accomplice in crime, but Felix tells him to shut up, he's not going to get caught.
All seems well for a while.
But then Felix's father begins to work even less and drink even more. Felix finds Max one time, sobbing in the corner because their father hit him.
"Max," Felix sighs, struggling between anger at their father and sympathy for his brother. "You've got to buck up, kid. Get out of the way and stay out of the way."
Max rubs his eyes. "Alright, Felix," he whispers.
"Wonderful," Felix says. "Now come on. We've got a district to rob, and a pretty girl promised she'd meet me behind the school later. Let's go."
When he is twelve, and now eligible for the Reaping, Felix enters for tesserae. Up until now, the Games were a distant nightmare, something to snicker about with the other boys. Now that his name is in the Reaping four times—his father told him in no uncertain terms that he had to take tesserae—the Games seem much more real. He waits with the other boys his age, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, not daring to think about what would happen if his name got pulled. But it doesn't, and a few days later, two children from District 12 are bleeding their lives out during the Bloodbath. And Felix doesn't think about the Hunger Games for another year.
Two more reapings follow. Joris Cumin, one of the boys Felix hangs out with, is reaped for the 22nd Hunger Games. He dies in the Bloodbath, decapitated by the District 2 male who later wins. Felix mourns his friend for one day, and then focuses on his own survival.
When Felix is fifteen, he meets Ruby Undersee. She's walking in the market—the one for the richer folks, not the Hob—her red dress clinging to her curves, swinging her basket on her arm. Felix follows her, hardly able to take his eyes of her swinging hips. At first, he plans to steal from her—she's oblivious enough that he could take the basket off her arm and she wouldn't notice—but then he notices another street rat skulking in the shadows who probably has the same plan. So Felix trails the kid, and when the kid creeps out from behind the apple cart, Felix leaps out.
"Stop, thief!" he shouts, grabbing the kid's grimy wrist. The pretty girl gasps. The kid in Felix grip wriggles around.
"What's it to you?" he snarls.
"I'll not have you steal from this innocent lady," Felix says nobly.
The girl blinks her large blue eyes. "Oh, don't hurt him," she coos. Felix can barely suppress an eyeroll as she hands the street urchin a few coins. The kid runs off without a word of thanks.
"Oh, thank you," she says to Felix. "I'm buying Daddy's birthday present. His birthday's tomorrow, haven't you heard? Arthur and I came here to get him something special, though Arthur must have wandered off." She giggles. "I'm sorry, am I bothering you? I'm Ruby. Ruby Undersee."
Felix yanks his gaze of the neckline of Ruby's low cut dress. "Felix. At your service," he says, bowing and brushing his lips over Ruby's outstretched hand.
"Well, thank you, Felix," Ruby says. "Here." And she shoves a few coins into his hand. Felix blinks in amazement. "Well, thank you kindly, miss," he says, tipping his hat. Ruby giggles some more.
"You're the mayors, daughter, aren't you, miss?" Felix asks, mind racing. If she's that rich…
"Yes, I am," she says.
"Well, I just gotta tell you, you look gorgeous in that red dress."
Ruby blushes.
"I have to go, but I'd love to see you around, Felix." Ruby turns and sashays away, waving at him with one immaculate white hand.
After that, Felix just happens to be down in the market and quite accidently runs into Ruby a few more times. And then, it's only logical, due to Felix's charm and good looks, or so he tells anyone in his gang who will listen, that he and Ruby meet up at night behind the mayor's house. Ruby's not the sharpest tool in the box, but that's okay. There are plenty of things for them to do besides talking.
Inevitably, Mayor Undersee finds his daughter in her bedroom with minimal clothes on kissing a street rat. And inevitably, Felix is threatened with death, despite Ruby's frantic pleadings, to never go near Ruby's house again.
Felix shrugs his shirt back on. "It was fun while it lasted. I'll miss you, beautiful!" He waves goodbye and hoists himself out of Ruby's bedroom window, clambering down on the trellis.
The next day, he meets a pretty blonde girl who is not the mayor's daughter, but the daughter of a merchant.
Felix slips through the market place, pulse pounding in his ears. He needs money, and fast. His father's been forcing Felix to fork over more and more money, and Felix just doesn't have enough. He spies an older man weaving his way through the clutter of stalls. This man is finely dressed, but slender to the point of frailty. The perfect target.
Felix gently places his hand into the man's pocket and pulls out a small purse. And he would have gotten away, too, except for a sharp-eyed vendor who hollers, "Thief!"
His victim whips around and spots Felix crouching by the stall. Felix immediately starts darting away. But, just his luck, there's a Peacekeeper stationed not ten feet away. And the chase is on.
Felix has the advantage of speed. He hurtles over carts and dodges stalls. But the Peacekeeper on his tail is annoyingly fast. Felix cuts through an alleyway, smirking when he sees the Peacekeeper sprint right past it. Chuckling to himself, he saunters out the other end…
…right into the grip of a pudgy vendor.
"I've got 'im!" he yells. "Right 'ere! What's me reward, sir?"
Felix wriggles and kicks, but the vendor is too strong. The Peacekeeper coolly surveys him.
"Well done," he says to the vendor, placing a coin in his hand. "Now shall we remind the District how we deal with thieves?"
It turns out that the District deals with thieves with a public whipping. Felix reckons he probably would have gotten off with a fine if he hadn't chosen to rob the father of the Head Peacekeeper. And so Felix is lashed to a pole, his crime read out before the bewildered District, and his sentence is proclaimed: 25 lashes. It would be forty, as the Head Peacekeeper stridently urged, but Felix is fifteen.
Felix squeezes his eyes shut as the Peacekeeper raises the whip. When it comes down on his back, he feels like his skin has been seared with a hot poker. Twenty-four to go. He focuses on staying upright as the whip comes down again and again. Someone's screaming. Felix realizes that it's him. His vision is growing blurry with the agonizing pain. But he can still make out the shape of his seven-year-old brother in the crowd.
The ropes binding his wrists to the pole are slashed, and Felix collapses on the wooden platform. It's slick with his blood. Someone throws a towel at him, and he moves his arm to get it, sending splinters of pain through his back. He lies there, he doesn't know how long, until the people move away, some muttering angry threats towards the Peacekeepers, others murmuring words of sympathy for the poor boy, still others commenting that it's been two years since the last whipping—who knows, maybe they'll get an execution soon.
Tiny hands grip his shoulders.
"Felix? Felix!"
"Dammit, Max, what are you doing here?" Felix whispers hoarsely. "Stupid kid."
"M-Mrs. Cartwright told me what was happening. C-Can you stand up?"
Every movement hurts, but Felix hauls himself to his feet. Max looks on with pity in his big eyes. Felix feels a surge of anger. What does he know about anything?
Still, he allows his brother to lead him home. The journey is slow and painful. Mrs. Cartwright, as annoying as she is, bandages Felix's ruined back and tells him to be careful. Max prepares supper for their father while Felix lies on his stomach wishing he was dead and listening to his father yell. Max has to do the pickpocketing for both of them. He doesn't have Felix's dexterity or speed. Every night, Felix is a captive audience to Max's embellished stories of the day's events, wishing he could be back on the streets.
The 24th Hunger Games are the fastest yet. The District 2 tribute systematically kills all others in two days. This is good for Max, who is far too sensitive for his own good.
"Max. You're eight years old. The Games are a fact of life, kiddo."
Max looks up at his older brother. "What if it's you next year?"
Felix scoffs. "Not a chance. But if I'm in it, I'm going to win it."
Burning down the schoolhouse is a bit of an accident, really. But Felix tells the other lads that he did it on purpose.
"Down with the Capitol!" he shouts. The boys cheer and whoop his name.
It happens like this. Felix is huddling by the old schoolhouse playing with a pack of matches he stole that day. It's a beautiful spring evening, the air alive with hope. However, Felix is sure as hell not going to go home. His father got fired from the mines because he was drunk as a skunk the few times he made it to work. Felix, barely 17, knows that he ought to start working down there. But honestly, it's too much work. He craves the freedom of the streets, however poor that makes him. He couldn't stand being trapped in the suffocating darkness, harvesting coal while being yelled at by the foreman. No wonder his father had to get drunk to suffer through the endless darkness.
Felix strikes a match and watches the flame flicker in the twilight. Mining has slowed down now, plunging the citizens into a deeper level of poverty. The treasures of the schoolhouse—the ones Felix never got around to stealing—are sold, leaving it an empty husk. Only the richer students come to school—the poorer ones dropped out to work in the mines, pickpocket on the streets, or leap over the fence to poach food.
Felix runs his finger through the flame. It's not fair that he has nothing. It's not fair that the rich kids get to sit idly in the schoolhouse, stuffing their brains with useless knowledge while he roams the streets hoping to glean enough money to survive another day. Before he can stop himself, he's dropped the match. Felix scuttles back, startled, as the flames devour the brittle wooden schoolhouse. Orange flames leap high in the sky. Felix is simultaneously thrilled and terrified.
People see him, of course. It's not hard to notice twenty foot tall flames. But the Peacekeepers don't care. It's just a skeleton of a school. Eventually, it would disintegrate by itself.
Felix sprints away. Later, he will be amused that robbing a rich man gets him a whipping while burning down a schoolhouse goes unpunished. But for now, he turns to watch his greatest accomplishment burn brightly in the night.
He hears whispers that the 25th Hunger Games will be something special. Rumors float around of a "Quarter Quell." One day before the Reaping, the people of District 12 are herded into the square. Max fidgets next to Felix.
"What's going on?" he whispers.
Felix groans. "Max, why would I know?"
"Do you think it's about…" Max looks fearfully around. "You know, the…" He widens his eyes meaningfully.
Felix rolls his eyes. Max is both horrified and amazed that Felix had the audacity to torch the schoolhouse. "I think everyone knows by now that I burned the school down."
"Don't say it out loud!" Max hisses.
"Shut up, Max," Felix says absently, scanning the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of a pretty girl. His gaze rests on a curvy brunette. He winks and she smiles.
"Felix!" Max says, tugging his brother's sleeve. "They're starting."
Felix reluctantly focuses his attention on the screen. There's the president, with a box filled with slips of paper. The people of District 12 hold their breath as the president reverently selects a single card and then glides to the microphone.
"As a reminder that it was the Districts who instigated the Rebellion against the Capitol, every man, woman, and child over the age of 12 will be required to vote for the tributes to be sent to the Capitol." The president pauses and stares out at the crowd. The citizens of District 12 fidget and murmur to one another. "You have one day," he finishes silkily.
Felix chooses Ruby Undersee's brother, Arthur, who's eighteen. As for the girls, he picks Evy Smyth who always refused to flirt with him. Max, at age nine, is too young to vote, and bobs restlessly at Felix's side as he painstakingly scrawls down the letters in their names. It's been so long since he held a pencil.
"Felix, I don't like this," Max mutters. "They're staring at us."
"It's your hair, kiddo," says Felix, who's trying to remember which way an "s" goes. "Looks like a rat nest."
Max continues to fidget all the way home. It's making Felix nervous. He's survived five reapings so far. Surely there's boys his District hates more than him. Nonetheless, he's unable to sleep, staring at the wall all night while Max snores beside him.
Of course they pick him. The scars on his back tingle as he marches up on the stage to receive the honor. The eyes of his District bore into his back. Some hold pity; others, contempt. The "fabulous young lady", as Twyla Dior, their empty-headed escort put it, is Sage Henderson, fifteen years old with stringy blonde hair. She glares at Felix with dark gray eyes. Sage, he remembers, stabbed three boys in a knife fight, lads he knew, killing one.
Max visits him, begging him to come back. Felix attempts to disentangle himself from his brother's strangling embrace, but then accepts it as Max squeezes tighter.
"Hey, listen, kiddo. Try to just stay out of his way, okay? And I'll be back soon, alright? I'm smarter and faster than those lunkheaded Careers."
"Felix," Max sobs, his face coated in mucus and tears. "I need you. You have to come home. You have to!"
"I will," Felix promises. "I will."
Max wipes his face with his shirtsleeve. "Here." Felix stares at the cloth-wrapped bundle. "I found it in your stuff. It can be your token."
Felix carefully peels the cloth back. It's the atlas he stole from the schoolhouse so many years ago, filled with places he imagined he would go.
"Max," he starts, but then the Peacekeepers come to take his brother away.
On the train, Felix attempts to flirt with Sage.
"Your eyes hold all the stars in the sky, beautiful. And what a pretty dress! Mind if I talk you out of it?"
"Say that again and I'll cut out your tongue!" she threatens. Felix quickly shuts up.
There are no victors from District 12, so it's up to Twyla to half-heartedly tell them how not to die. Felix tunes her out, staring at the scenery flashing by. Well, at least he made it out of District 12. And the Capitol is amazing. Luxury, for a heartbeat, is his. Plush carpets, canopy beds, servants, technology. Not to mention a beautiful stylist named Rhea who politely informs Felix that she has a partner, Sage's stylist, who is six feet tall.
Felix is dressed as a coal miner for the parade, stuffed into a ridiculously baggy set of overalls. He wonders briefly if his father is watching. And then there's training. He has no mentor to help him, and Sage avoids him if he has the plague, drifting into dark corners to disembowel a practice dummy. Felix experiments with knives. Due to his quick hands, he's not bad. There's something freeing about watching a knife soar through the air and burrow into the heart of a dummy.
He flirts briefly with the District 5 girl, a petite redhead. "They don't make hair like that in District 12," he tells her. "It's the color of the sunrise."
She smiles. "Thank you."
He winks. "Well, good luck to you, sweetheart. Maybe we'll…meet up…in the arena."
In the evaluations, he hurls the knives right at the dummies—bam bam bam—and darts around the room. Quick hands, quick feet.
"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Felix shouts at the end, sweeping a bow. He earns a 6, figuring the extra point is for his charisma and devastating good looks.
Felix has to admit, he's looking forward to the interview. He fidgets backstage, waiting for the other tributes to finish sucking up to the sponsors. The Careers are all determined and confident to the point of arrogance. The rest are scared stiff but valiantly try to disguise it. He wonders briefly what they all did to deserve a spot in the Games. When the District 4 girl comes up to the stage, Felix whistles in appreciation. She's stunning in a strapless grey dress that shows off her legs. And she's a real spitfire, too, raining hellfire and brimstone on her district. Her partner, on the other hand, the youngest kid in the Games, is trying to come across as intelligent and confident. Kid's got no chance.
More endless interviews—no girl is as hot as the District 4 girl—and then it's his turn, second to last. Felix grins as he strides up on the stage.
Rufus smiles blindingly at him. "So, Felix, tell me about yourself."
Felix smirks. "Not much to say. I'm a favorite with the ladies, of course." He winks, relishing the laughter coming from the audience. "I'm sure I'm leaving behind some broken hearts, but ladies, I'm sure you're terribly jealous of Sage, seeing as she gets to be my district partner, but I'm glad you restrained yourselves from volunteering for her. Our romance would be awfully short-lived."
Oh yeah, the line for sponsors is gonna be a mile long.
"Any other strengths?"
"Well, I mean, look at me!" Felix stretches his arms out. "My looks, my charm, I've got these Games in the bag!"
"I'm sure you do," Rufus says. "Now, tell us, why do you think your district chose you for the Games?"
"Jealousy," Felix says immediately. "The boys don't take to kindly to me around their girls. But no hard feelings, lads, when I come back. It's not my fault that ladies can't resist a victor."
"Is that it?"
"Well, there is the little matter of the schoolhouse. It seems that District 12 doesn't take kindly to an enterprising young lad setting the school on fire. I thought they'd appreciate me burning down the old shack, but apparently not." Felix wonders what Max thinks of his interview. The kid's a brat, but he hopes he'll be okay, stay out of their father's way.
"Alright, thank you very much, Felix. Next, we have Sage Henderson!"
Felix bounds down from the stage, euphoria coursing through him. Hell, yeah!
The night passes blindingly fast, and before he knows it, he's in the launch room and Rhea is unenthusiastically wishing him luck. He blows her a kiss—not much her partner can do now—as he is lifted up through the glass tube.
He has time to register the giant iron Cornucopia and the stone wall surrounding it and frantically plot a strategy. Twyla didn't bother to tell him what to do, writing him and Sage off as lost causes.
Run, he thinks. Run away.
And then—10987654321—the Games begin.
Felix doesn't bother to pick up any weapons. Stupid, maybe, but he just has to get away. He sprints away from the carnage, vaulting the stone wall easily like so many carts he hurtled over in District 12 running away from angry shopkeepers. He runs across the field, fueled by terror, and into the forest, where he collapses against a tree.
What comes next is finding food and water, but Felix is used to scrounging for food in desperate situations. He scrapes bark of the trees and chews leaves for moisture. When the sun sets, he shimmies up a tree and watches the dead in the sky. Nine dead, including Sage. Felix isn't sure what to feel. It would happen eventually, he knows, but…
The next day, Felix wanders through the forest, aiming to put as much distance between himself and the Careers as possible. When he sees the shape of two cabins between the trees, he thinks he's dreaming. Unable to stop himself, he runs forward the closest one.
"Stop!"
Felix whirls around, heart pounding. It's the runt from District 4. What's his name? Atticus?
"What do you want?" he demands, wondering if this is a trap.
The kid stops to catch his breath. "Don't go in that cabin. The girl from District 9 opened the door, and this bear mutation ripped her throat out and tore her stomach open. I saw it."
Felix narrows his eyes. "Why should I trust you?"
"Don't," he says, blue eyes blazing. "Just open the door. But I'm telling the truth."
"And the other one's safe?"
Atticus nods. "I'll go in and prove to you."
Inside is a treasure trove of supplies. Felix fills a knapsack, hardly daring to believe that once in his life, he got lucky. And it looks like he's got a potential ally, too.
"You saved my life," he tells Atticus as they go outside.
Atticus shuffles his feet. "I didn't want anyone to end up like the District 9 girl. It could have been me. I just got lucky."
"I've never been lucky a day in my life," Felix says. "Except with the ladies. By the way, your district partner? Daaaamn. If we weren't in a fight for our lives, I sure would like to get to know her." He winks at Atticus. "That interview dress of hers? She looked so…well, we can discuss her unfairly hot legs later. We're sitting ducks here, partner."
As they hurry out of the clearing into the night, Atticus turns his freckled face up at Felix. "Did you just call me partner?"
"'Course I did. You saved my life and that means we're irrevocably bound together. Like blood brothers or something. Anyways, you're lucky, and I'm hoping that'll rub off on me. So, deal?"
"Deal." They shake hands.
Felix never would have imagined that a skinny rich kid from District 4 would be his ally, but he is. And Atticus isn't a bad ally to have. The next day, Felix successfully lures the District 2 male to his death at the paws of the bear mutation in the cabin. Darting through the night, knowing he can easily outrun the Careers, fills Felix with a wild hope. Maybe he can win this, after all.
They plunge through the forest the next day. Felix tells Atticus the stories of his brave deeds as a pickpocket. Atticus isn't like Max at all. He's quieter and smarter, dealing with his fate with a resigned determination. But he loves Felix's stories as much as Max did.
On the fifth day, they discover a brutal twist in the Games—metal tracks with wooden rails that appeared overnight.
"Train tracks," Atticus says solemnly.
"Those don't look like train tracks," Felix says, tilting his head to one side.
"Old fashioned train tracks," Atticus says. "Long before the Dark Days."
"What about the train?" Felix asks, glancing around.
"I don't know," Atticus says. But in the next instant, they get their answer.
"Move!" Atticus yells. Felix dives away, the ground trembling underneath as he scrambles up the pine tree, cursing feverishly. The train—an iron monstrosity—rumbles through in a blink of an eye, leaving clouds of black smoke in its wake. Felix swears in astonishment. "Why the hell would they put a damn train in the Hunger Games? Are they trying to kill us or something?"
Atticus snickers and Felix grins. "Never saw a frickin' train before in the Games. Guess we're special, this being the Quarter Quell and all." He gapes at the tracks in numb amazement. A train. Trains mean escape. Like the atlas in his pocket. An opportunity out. He stares at the tracks, still quivering, the gears turning furiously in his brain. What if he could board it? He'd be unstoppable. Felix smirks, thinking of himself at the front of the train, the Careers diving out of the way in terror. He could win!
And then gunshots ring out, shattering his thoughts. Not even bothering to think, Felix darts away, a strangled scream sounding behind them.
Runrunrunrun.
He weaves through the trees, letting his adrenaline take over. Bullets smash into trees, raining down splinters. He risks a glance behind him. Atticus is desperately struggling to keep up.
Damn it. He grabs Atticus' wrist and pulls the kid along with him. A cannon booms, and Atticus stumbles.
"We're…almost…at the edge. We have…to…make a break…for it!" Felix pants.
Atticus shakes his head, his freckles stark against his ghost-white face. "The fields…are…totally…out it…the…open!"
Felix wants to scream in frustration. "We can…lie down…in the grass!"
A bullet screeches over their heads, putting a stop to the argument. The two boys bolt through the trees. The grass waves tauntingly in the distance. So close…
And then something tears through Felix's chest, and the world swirls around him. He looks down to see a patch of red rapidly expanding over his chest. He can't die, not like this. He wants to go down in a blaze of glory, take the Careers down with him, leave his name on the lips of all the girls in Panem. He wants to be a hero. He wants to be remembered.
"Dammit, Atticus, don't leave me." It doesn't hurt, not like the whipping. But he can't move, no matter how much he tries to move his limbs.
Atticus mumbles something.
"Don't leave me. Don't…frickin'…leave me. Dammit, I'm dying," Felix wheezes. Blood. His blood, staining the grass.
They were so close.
"Felix," Atticus says, his voice choked with tears. "You were the best friend I ever had. But they will kill me if I don't go. Felix? Felix!"
Felix focuses on the bright blue of his friend's eyes. His eyelids are so heavy. He can feel the rush of death enveloping him.
He wants something more than a pitiful death on the fifth day of the Games. He sees Atticus running away—Win for me, will you, kid?—and wishes Max didn't have to see him weak and bleeding like this.
He doesn't hear his cannon.
When the Games are done, Felix's death is briefly shown, only to switch away to the more exciting moments of the Games. Twyla Dior, his escort, is painting her nails during the recap, wondering idly if she'll ever have a winner. Felix's own father is snoring on the floor, the stench of alcohol surrounding him.
Only two boys remember the pickpocket from 12. Max, who runs away after his brother's death to live on the streets, and Atticus, the victor of the Games. Felix fades away from the minds of all who encountered him: the boys he hung out with, the girls he kissed, the people he stole from, the Peacekeepers who chased him, the nation that watched him die.
He's forgotten, except by two boys. But maybe, these boys, his baby brother and his unlikely friend, are the only ones that matter, in the end.
"Felix!" His mother's voice. "Oh, my brave boy, my lucky charm."