I wake up to the sounds of birds chirping. For a moment, I expect my sister to walk into my room and yell at me to get up and get ready for school. Then the trees register and I realize that I'm in the forest. In the arena. In the Hunger Games.

Crap.

I think back to the previous night. Thirteen dead. Over half of the pool, gone, just like that. Ten were in the bloodbath. Two came mere minutes after we met up with Dom, Mayla, and Xander. The third came later. We assumed that they were probably injured and bleed to death after the fight with the others. No one wants to think about the possibility that the woods are killing tributes, like the meadow in the recent Quarter Quell.

Only ten tributes left, already. Well, eleven. Ten who will die, I mean. It's only day two. I am guessing this will be a fast Games. I can't say it upsets me.

I try to list the tributes – no, kids – in my head. Both from District One, the girl from Two and boy from Three (Quirino), both from Four – that's me and Mayla, that is. Girls from Five and Seven. No one from Eight through Ten, but both from Eleven – the boy is Dom – and the Twelve boy – Xander. Eleven kids. Six girls, five boys. "Girls are doing well this year," I remark to myself, sitting up.

Quirino, on guard, looks back at me and grins. "Indeed they are. Hungry?" he asks, holding up a slab of meat, evidently cooked over the fire. I realize the mouth-watering scent must be what woke me, and I eagerly grab it from Q's hand. I'm not even sure what kind of meat it is, but I'll eat it.

Whatever it is, it's good.

When I finish up, I wipe my hands on my arctic camouflage pants. Oh, right. After we set up camp – around seven PM last night – I changed into the arctic BDUs in my pack. That is to say, a white and black camouflage uniform. Luckily we had enough spare clothes that no one had to freeze in their wet clothes from yesterday.

I look over at Mayla, wrapped in the sleeping bag from my pack. She looks so much like her sister that I can't stand it and have to look away before a tear leaks out. The others can't know of my dilemma. The pain Hayley will be in, is in, has been in.

"No cannons, no threats. Nothing but a couple turkey things. I'm not sure what they actually are but that's what you're eating."

I shrug. I don't care what it is; it tastes good. Getting up, I grab a spear in my right hand, knife in my left, and head out into the woods. So far, the entire arena seems to be snow-covered woods, and nothing more. After a second thought, I turn and toss my spear back towards the small hut we created last night. Q looks up, grabs the spear, and brings it back into the hut.

After a five minute walk, I climb up a tall, sturdy-looking tree. I'm not the ideal person for this job, of course. Six foot two, hundred eighty pounds, I'm not going to get very high up even without a fear of heights. Well, maybe not a fear. Just an uncertainty. After all, District Four is swimming, not climbing. But still I manage to get up high enough that I pass the tops of most of the trees, and realize just how sturdy the tree I picked is. It could easily be the tallest in the forest.

Sure enough, as far as the eye can see, white capped trees. And, looking up, clouds that couldn't be seen down below. Briefly I wonder how the snow could lay so thickly under the trees, when it shouldn't get through to the ground at all. But it doesn't matter, because however it happens, it does happen.

As I sit in the fork of a tree, fighting vertigo, the snow begins to fall again. At first, it's peaceful. But after a few moments, far below, I hear a piercing scream. Scared, I scramble back down the tree as fast as I can. I'm not sure where the scream actually came from, but I'm afraid that it's directly below. In my camp.

I'm still about twenty feet from the ground when a canon booms. Startled, I fall and smash twice into branches, flipping over in midair. I tuck my head and land hard in the snow on my right shoulder. There's a devastating cracking sound and I know I'm screwed.

The wind is knocked out of me, but I can twist my head to the side and look in the direction of the hut. It's no good – too far away.

I lay for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, when I hear footsteps in the damp snow. Shit. I only just realize – too late, of course – that wet snow will show footprints. Every track. And that means our hut isn't safe, and I can be tracked from there to the tree I climbed. To wear I am lying, helpless, right now.

I close my eyes, expecting the worst. I'm about to mutter a good-bye to Hayley when I hear a voice above me say "Shit, dude, what did you do?"

My eyes crack open to see Dom standing over me, with Xander behind him. Xander has what I'm told is a "Seam" look – dark hair and gray eyes or something. He's kind of scrawny, 'cause I guess they don't get much to eat out in District Twelve. Dom is almost as tall as me, but not quite as muscular. He's the climber, not me, I guess.

"I fell out of a tree. I should have sent you. Who was the canon for?"

A grave look crosses the boys' faces and I feel my heart stop for a moment. "District Seven. She got her knife into Q though."

It's all I can do to choke out "Is Mayla okay?"

Clearly the boys think I'm in love with her. They nudge each other, grin. "She's okay, dude. C'mon, let's get you back to your girlfriend."

I roll my eyes. "She's not my girlfriend. She's just…"

Again they laugh as they haul me to my feet. I cry out in pain as they yank on my arm. My back hurts too, and not just from the fall, but also from the cut from yesterday.

We make it back to the shelter just as a second canon fires. Mayla looks up, tears in her eyes and a knife in her hand. Dom and Xander instantly release me and pull out knives. "No, guys, wait!" I yell, but they ignore me, advancing on the helpless girl as she drops the knife.

"He asked me to," Mayla chokes out, still teary, and very quiet. "He was in pain."

Dom lets out an angry, guttural, animal sound, and dives at Mayla. I watch as she ducks, sending him sailing over her head. "Xander, no!" I yell, ignoring the pain as I attempt to block his way. "Mayla's telling the truth. Q asked her to."

The boys look at me with angry eyes, but they don't touch Mayla as I make my way over to her and wrap my uninjured arm around her shoulders. "I've known Mayla for years. If she says Q asked her to, then Q asked her to. And whoever gets out of here alive will see that from the victor's chair. I promise you."

After a few moments of complete silence, they nod tersely, but I know this alliance won't last. The boys were close to Q, the dorky kid with glasses who played with wires and batteries during training, but could fight viciously. Mayla is part of the alliance because I insisted on her. Still, they only tolerate her because I excel in hand-to-hand combat.

Suddenly, I fear our throats will be slit in our sleep tonight. It's only the second day, but we need to get out.