My head shot up as a glint of sliver shot across the horizon. In one fluid motion, I leapt from my post and slid down the ladder to the platform below. The second my feet hit the aged boards, they were on the move again.
Down a set of stairs, around a corner and down another. I began to get dizzy as I threw my body toward the ground, gaining speed at every turn, almost losing my balance as I neared the bottom. Seven stories down, three to go. This is why there are supposed to be two of us here.
The Capital's trains had a habit of showing up when we least expected. As the district that supplied luxury items, we were expected to have the load ready when the train pulled into the station. The inventory taken, the boxes marked, a gift for the conductor, and most importantly; we were expected to be ready to get that train back to the Capital as soon as possible.
My boots hit the dirt and I took off in the direction of the small hut. I skidded to a halt just inside the door to catch my breath before I reached for the phone.
"Train. About two hours out," I managed to get out as soon as someone picked up the other end.
Immediately, I could hear a bell sounding in the background as the person on the other end thanked me. I think it was Iwan but I couldn't be sure. The exchange was short and it was soon time to climb back up the tower.
Before leaving the hut, I grabbed one of the small sacks off of the table, my self-imposed rations, and began the long trek back to my post. A naive person would think that once a train has been spotted and the district alerted, that we would be in the clear for a few days. Wrong! Every once in a while a second train would come an hour or so after the first. This happened every time a new fad began. The citizens of the capital go nuts for some of the things we make and as the demand goes up, more trains show up. A few months back we had three in one day.
I dropped my sack when I reached the top of the tower and scanned the scenery for a sign of the train. From my vantage point I could see the town down in the valley below and to my left, my eyes quickly picked out the train station. It was the hub of the town, roads lead to it from all directions, littered with carts taking goods to the warehouses across the street where everything that was headed to the capital was stored before being packed into the many train cars that sat the tracks. I followed the tracks north to the edge of town, through fields, past the tall fence that meant the end of the district and into the trees where they disappeared. Obscured by trees and hills, it would be easy for a train to sneak up if it wasn't for the lookout tower and the splendid view of the valley that it provided. There! Winding its way between two of the smaller hills was the train.
Satisfied that I had given them enough time to prepare, I reached into the sack and pulling out a half stale load of bread and bit into it. I picked around the harder portions of the loaf as I ate, seeking the softer bread. That's the other reason that there is supposed to be two of us here. But since I was alone, I didn't get the luxury of heading to town for fresh food. I had just the food that I carried up with me and whatever scraps the people before me left behind.
As I chucked the remains of the bread over the side the wind picked up and I sunk back against the rocky cliff that the tower was attached to the side of, instantly thankful for its presence. It had saved my life on more than one occasion.
I waited for the wind to die down before taking my usual place at the center of the small platform that was twice my height in length and a little over my height in depth. I measured it once. Well, more than once, it does get boring up here after all. I could also tell you that the ladder has exactly 43 rungs, including the broken one that is 7 from the top.
I folded my legs in front of me and straightened my back as I settled into the familiar position. It was a game. How long could I sit here, not moving, not eating, not drinking, not sleeping. My record was three days. If I allowed myself water I could last a week, if I changed the rules and allowed myself one loaf of bread I could last two.
This was put to the test two years ago when my replacements never showed up. It was during the Hunger Games and I guess they just forgot about me. I came up the day after the Reaping and was supposed to go home one week later but no one came to relieve me. I remained up here for five weeks straight. That was the year of the second Quarter Quell. We had put out four times the usual number of trains filled to bursting leading up to it and as a reward the capital gave us a holiday of sorts, not sending for more until the Quell was well over with.
No one had noticed my absentness and I didn't blame them. That was the year my only sister, Adina, who had been training since she was 10, was selected to be one of the tributes for District 1. She wasn't supposed to go, there was another girl, one who was stronger who was selected to volunteer but when it was announced that the Quell would have twice the number of tributes Adina was their second pick. I hear that she did really well too. They tell me that I should be proud of her. She came in second, almost first but was killed by her own ax in some sort of accident.
I never saw it, I was up here. I also don't blame my parents for forgetting me at the time. They had more important things to worry about.
Much to their relief, I was never chosen to be trained for the games. When I was 10, the year they start picking kids to train, I was the shortest kid in my grade. My stick like arms would never swing a sword or throw a spear the way that they would like. Thankfully, I was able to slip under their radar. In the seven years since then I grew quite a bit, no longer the shortest in the class. And, thanks to all the running and climbing my job as lookout required, my arms and legs actually looked like those of my peers.
In the dimming light, I caught the gleam of the train as it made its way back toward the capital, laden down with fabrics, jewels, and other pointless things that the people of the capital loved to much.
Shortly after dawn broke my eyes darted from the sleepy town below to the shine of an approaching train moving much faster than usual. Without thinking, my body jumped into action but something stopped me at the top of the ladder. A figure was slowly making its way up. Very slowly.
"Climb faster!" I yelled down, not caring how rude I sounded. "There's a train coming."
The person on the ladder paused for a second and then continued up. I waited about thirty seconds and he still wasn't up the ladder. Impatiently, I headed to the rope that connected to a bell down in the hut. When pulled the bell would ring, notifying the second man on duty to call because a train was coming. I never used the bell because either my partner failed to show up or was passed out drunk on the single bed in the hut. He wasn't the most reliable guy in the district.
My hand closed around the rope but a voice stopped me. "Don't."
I released the rope and turned to face the man. It was Moran, a victor, 42nd games if I remember correctly.
"It's the tribute train." He explained as he pulled himself onto the platform. "Today's the Reaping and you should get going if you want to make it in time."
The Reaping. Was it really time for that again?
I nodded my understanding and made for the ladder.
Even though we had trained tributes it was still bad form to miss the Reaping. When Lamorac, District 1's escort read your name off of the paper you were still to go to the stage. It was then that the volunteer chosen for that year would speak up and go in your place. It showed that they were strong, that they were willing to sacrifice themselves for you, and made your family feel indebted to theirs.
"Good luck!" A second man yelled from the doorway of the hut when I reached the bottom of the tower. I laughed, it was a game in its self to bet on who would get their name picked from the orbs. You got to feel special for the duration of the games because there was someone out there who was sacrificing himself for you. So you could go on living, it was an honor to get your name picked.
I waved to him before taking off on a run down the winding dirt path. It was five miles from where the tower stood to the edge of town, mostly because of the rocky terrain that it had to curve through. I had to stop when I came to the gate to the district. I dug around in my pant pocket to find my work card.
"Don't want you to be late for the Reaping." The Peacekeeper smiled at me as he handed the paper back. I thanked him, jammed it back into my pocket and took off again. I was one of the few people who were allowed outside of the district. Knowing when the trains arrived was so important that we were allowed to build a tower on the side of a mountain outside of our boarder. It was a privilege to get to go there, one I was thankful for, and we had to check in with the guard at the beginning and end of our shift.
I slowed to a jog when I entered the town partly because I had to weave my way around groups of people. The early arrivals to the Reaping. As I approached my home, I scanned the crowed for any sign of my parents or younger brother.
"Nice call on the train!" Iwan hollered from the other side of a giggling group of girls. I navigated around the group to join my friend. "You gave us more than enough time to get it ready."
"Thanks," I smiled, glad to see and speak to another human. "It's these eagle eyes." I tapped the corner of my eye.
"That's because you have no other talents," he joked. "They had to give you something!"
I laughed at the insult and was about to respond with something regarding his lack of brains when I saw them. My mother had a tight grip on my brother, Evan, and my father was staring at a paper in his hands, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed together.
"See you at the Reaping," I parted ways with Iwan and headed for them. "What's going on?" I asked looking from one parent to the other.
"I…he…" My mom could barely get the words out. I looked to my dad for an answer but he was still looking at the paper.
"Evan?" I leaned my face down toward the 10 year olds.
I looked into the eyes of my only remaining sibling and waited for him to answer. "They picked me to train for The Games! Isn't that great! I get to start right after this Games is over!"
I plastered a fake smile on my face to hide my terror. "That's wonderful! You are sure to get picked as tribute and I have to doubt that you'll win!"
I had to say it. There was no other choice. To him getting the chance to train and possibly take part in The Hunger Games was the best thing that could happen. He was eight when Adina took part in hers and he watched every minute in awe. She was his hero and he wanted to be just like her. It's a bit depressing knowing that your little brother wants to be more like his sister than brother but I guess when you look at the honor and glory that comes with taking part in the games and coming close winning them, there was no way I could compete.
The truth was I was pissed. I didn't even complain when my mother began trying to get some of the dirt out of my dark hair. First the Capital took away Adina and now they are going to do the same to Evan. He would be whisked away to a training center on the outskirts of town where they would spend the next 7 years training him to be a killer. They would rip him of his innocence and turn him into a monster. I have met the others and they are not people I would ever call my friends. Even with Adina, toward the end of her training she had transformed. She was a completely different person, one that I wanted nothing to do with.
The day she volunteered as tribute was the day that I volunteered as lookout during the Quill.
"I wish you had gotten here sooner," Mom seemed to have recovered from Evan's news. "There is no time to change." She gave my shirt one last brush and I watched a cloud of dirt loosen from the cloth. She frowned.
"It's not like anyone is going to look at me." I tried to lighten the mood.
She smiled and turned me in the direction of the town center. "Come back here and change and then meet us at the Gravaine's after, they have invited us."
I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Gravaine was my mother's oldest friend and the two of them had this sick fantasy that involved me falling in love with her daughter, Tine. To say that I felt no attraction to the girl was an understatement, it probably didn't help that she was constantly throwing herself at Iwan.
Speaking of Iwan, he was still standing where I left him. Apparently he was waiting for me so I headed in his direction but not before my father yelled to me. "Don't do anything stupid!"
"I have no idea what he is talking about." I said in an offhanded way to Iwan when I reached him.
"I can't think of a single thing either." We exchanged smiles. There was a 98% chance that he was referring to last year when we almost missed the Reaping. We had been out at the train station trying to get a look inside the tribute train. Just as Iwan was attempting to scale the side of one of the cars, a capitol worker spotted us and we fled as fast as we could toward the town center. We had arrived just as Lamorac was sticking his hand into the orb with the girls' names in it.
We followed the flow of the crowd, trying to pass the slower walkers. We passed familiar faces, all excited to see who this year's tributes and volunteers were going to be. Of course the families of the volunteers knew that it was their child, but to the rest of the citizens of One it was a surprise. People made a game out of trying to guess which one it was. A game that I had once taken part in until it was my sister.
Several times we passed a young boy or girl, raving to their friends about being chosen to train to be a tribute. The joy with which they said it made my stomach churn.
"They picked Evan." I said once we had reached the square and took our place among the others. "They are going to train him."
Iwan placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Sorry," he said with a sympatric smile. He had an older sister who had been friends with Adina and knew all too well the changes that she had undergone.
We waited for the Reaping to begin.
"Whose name do you think is going to be picked?" Someone to my right asked his friends.
"I'm hoping its Barron. It looks like he's about to mess himself!" My eyes followed the direction they were looking and I found a boy of about thirteen. He was shaking, clearly frightened. He had nothing to worry about though; even if his name was called he wouldn't be the one going in to the arena.
Curious, I began looking around to see who would be going in. I scanned the group around me and my eyes found them.
They were standing a few feet away, there were four of them. They all had the same tall, broad build. One of them had a neck as thick as my midsection; another looked as though he could snap me in half with no effort at all. This is who they were going to turn my little brother into.
A silence came over the gathered crowd as the mayor, Lamorac, and two of our victors, Brutus and Patina took the stage. While the other took a seat, the mayor walked up to the microphone and began to tell the story of Panam and the Hunger Games. Having heard it over and over again, I zoned out and found myself staring at the one earring in Lamorac's left ear. It was an ugly thing, big, red, shinny, dangling, ugliness. But I found that the more I concentrated on it, the more I wanted to know what it was.
The reading of the victors' names snapped me back into the real world. I clapped politely with the rest of the citizens of One, dreading when the Reaping would end and I would have to go to the Gravaine's house. I was tempted to show up in all my dirty, smelly, two weeks without a shower glory but the threat of having to face the wrath of my mother was more than enough to push that thought out of my mind.
The mayor took his seat and was replaced by Lamorac who promptly walked over to the orb with the girl's names in it. Tine was staring at us, well more at Iwan than me, but that was perfectly fine. I nudged his arm and nodded in her direction. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
Up on the stage Lamorac was fumbling as he tried to unfold the paper using his overly long orange fingernails. Finally he got it by placing it flat on his palm and flicking it with the end of a nail.
"Azile Wert." He read aloud.
I watched as a girl who had to be around twelve raced to climb the stage. The people in the square cheered as her face smiled at them from the large screens placed around the square, myself included.
As it quieted, Lamorac spoke again. "Does anyone volunteer to take young Azile's place as tribute?"
There was a short pause before a girl spoke up. Once again the square burst into applause. The volunteer took Azile's place on the stage and introduced herself as Gemma Ettard.
She was on the smaller side for a Career but the way she moved hinted at her power. She might be small but she could probably take out someone twice her size in the time it took them to realize what was happening.
Lamorac crossed to the other orb and retrieved another paper. As he set about trying to open it, I turned me attention back to the group of trained kids next to me. I scanned their faces trying to see which one would be the one to volunteer. Finally he managed to open the paper read the name of the boy tribute. I paid only enough attention to know that it wasn't me. As the boy took the stage, one of the ones I was watching leaned forward. He was clearly the one who was chosen to volunteer as this year's male tribute.
I knew him. His name was Lexar and he was in the same year as me. In fact he and his training buddies were considered the popular crowd. And I, a kid who often showed up to school after being absent for weeks at a time thanks to my lookout job, was often the target of their affections.
Well, it was more my sister than me. There was not a day where one of them didn't make a crack about how some stupid, half dead kid from Twelve managed to outsmart her. I had been hoping for the day that they would get what was coming to them and this was going to be that day.
I watched as a grin of anticipation spread across Lexar's face. No doubt eager to hear the cheers as he approached the stage.
"Don't do anything stupid!" My father's voice echoed in my ears. This wasn't stupid. It was the most brilliant thing I have ever thought of. How else does one piss off an entire district where they spend years training kids to murder other kids just so that they can say that they are the strongest.
Lamorac once again asked if there were any volunteers.
A smile spread across my face as Lexar opened his mouth.
To slow, I thought as I filled my lungs and shouted, "I volunteer!"
Hey guys! This is my first Hunger Games inspired story and the future of it depends on if enough people like it. The story lives in my head so it doesn't matter to me if it gets typed out or not so if no one is interested then I won't write it. (I'm not begging for reviews here, I'm just stating a fact.) However, if I see that there is interest then I will continue to put my overactive imagination into words for you all.
Peace and Pancakes.