Chloe was wrinkling her nose at her appearance in the mirror of the launch room. Gail, Chloe's stylist, had made her wear a simple black shirt covered by a heavy wool jacket. The jacket weighed down on her shoulders, and Chloe worried it was far too thick to move around in, let alone look appealing in.
"This wasn't my choice." Gail said, placing her hands on her hips. She herself was made up heavily with her hair creating a tower that added a full five inches to her height. "But I'm sure there's a reason for this…monstrosity."
Chloe sighed, "I guess looks won't matter as much once I'm in there."
"You'll be fine, you've already got quite the audience from your," she hesitated,
"interesting interview."
Chloe gave her a wry look.
"I have nothing against it, my dear, it was an excellent move. A little warning would have been nice, however."
Gail was a woman who always spoke rapidly, projecting her voice far more loudly than it needed to be. Chloe often wanted to laugh when she spoke, thinking that the woman was more suitable as a commentator for the Games rather than a stylist. Still, she was grateful for the help, and threw her arms around Gail who reluctantly returned the hug.
"Now, there's one last thing." Gail spun around to the wardrobe across the room. "Each tribute is allowed to bring a token into the arena—for aesthetic purposes, only." She opened the top drawer, pulling something out and holding it in her closed palm.
"Like, jewelry?" Chloe said, excited.
"Exactly."
Gail held out her hand, a woven, rainbow bracelet in her palm. "I apologize if this is cliché, but I figured your fans would appreciate it."
Chloe stared at the bracelet for a moment. It was small, simple, yet the colors were vivid enough to stand out, especially on camera. Gail moved closer to her, tying the bracelet securely around her left wrist. Chloe thanked her, running a finger over her new accessory before stepping into the tribute tube behind her.
"Now, remember, there are cameras hidden everywhere. If you are relying on sponsors as much as I think you are, make sure you hold their attention, and don't do anything to dissuade them from their support."
"Got it." Chloe said, flashing a smile at her stylist.
"Good luck."
The door to the tribute tube closed, and Chloe was lifted upwards soon enough. She closed her eyes, trying to relax her mind as best as she could. Stay alive, trust in your sponsors, she whispered to herself. She had hoped she could say that the hard part was over, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe that.
Light filled the tube, and before she knew it she was standing on a cliffs edge, one looking over a low valley with some sort of structure at its center. She glanced around, peering down at the podium beneath her feet and feeling dizzy at the distance between herself and the valley's bottom. She felt as if she were hovering over the valley, soon to be dropped down onto the dirt and jagged rocks. She tightened her fists at her side, realizing the structure ahead was composed of crates and display stands. That was her target. If she could just get a few supplies and run, she'd be set.
She looked behind her, eyeing a thick wall of bamboo that framed a steep incline. The incline rose high, turning into a mountain that towered above the valley. The mountains surrounded the tributes, dotted with tall trees, all rising to snowy peaks. Chloe realized what the wool jacket was for. It was going to be fucking cold out there.
The buzzer signaling the countdown began, and a hologram appeared above the supplies indicating the time remaining before the Games started. Thirty…twenty-nine…twenty-eight…Chloe looked to her sides. Bumper was already staring at her from across the valley, sporting a solemn look with eyebrows lowered and lips pursed. Fifteen…fourteen…thirteen….where was Beca? She scolded herself as the thought of the brunette crossed her mind. All that was over, the Games had begun and Beca was now just another enemy.
Three…two…one…
The buzzer rang loudly, and the tributes darted from their podiums. A boy on the other side took a leap into the valley, tumbling down the steep rocks and cradling his leg once he'd landed. Another girl slid down the cliff's side, catching on a sharp rock and dangling motionless in the air. Chloe moved carefully to the side, turning around to descend the rocks steadily. She was facing the bamboo thickets as she did, and couldn't help but notice several of the tributes rushed through them instead of heading for the valley. The rocks beneath her were dry, and fairly easy to hold on to, but Chloe's nerves got the better of her. She lost her footing, catching only dirt as she stepped. She fell backwards with a heavy gasp, and exhaled sharply as she hit the ground, rolling down a ways further. Her surroundings melted together as she struggled to stand up, but with a few shakes of the head, things returned into focus.
A cannon went off, and then again. Two tributes already dead. A few of them were already at the supplies area, scrambling to gather what they could. Chloe could see two shapes motionless in the dirt of the valley. She stumbled the rest of the way down the rocks, breaking into a sprint once she reached level ground. She heard the grunts of two boys to her left and curved the opposite way to avoid their brawl. The tall tribute from District 4 with the heavy accent kept pace to her right, nearing her as she ran for the supplies. She jabbed her elbow out blindly, catching the tribute in the ribs, causing him to fall to his knees and tumble in the dirt. She continued on, and another cannon went off.
Chloe's eyes were locked on a red backpack that had been knocked from a pile atop a crate. She leaned down low, slowing her sprint to hook an arm through the strap and nimbly throw the pack around her shoulder. She moved to a rack with weapons on it, but ran into something along the way, falling into the rack, causing it to topple over with a great deal of noise from clanking metal. She had ran head first into another tribute, a girl from one of the lower districts. She had no time to think of a name as she stood back up, pressing her hand to the sore spot on her head. She grabbed a combat knife from the pile of fallen weapons, holding it at shoulder height and turning to the girl. Chloe readied herself, prepared for a first kill that would show the others she wasn't fucking around. But when she met the big brown eyes of the girl, and realized how much younger she was, her arm froze in the air. Instead, Chloe bolted away from the supplies, not looking back at her missed opportunity.
She sprinted back to the cliff, throwing her backpack with a heavy pitch up to the top of the rock. Two more shots from the cannon rung against her ears. She surveyed the area around, seeing others in the distance already up and running towards the thickets. There was seemingly no one around her, but her heart was beating too fast for her to even think of slowing down. She clambered up the rocks, straining her arms, feeling her thighs and triceps burn and she hoisted herself up with a final push. Upon reaching the top, she replaced her backpack over her shoulder and headed for the thickets, not looking back at the carnage that had just taken place.
The Bloodbath—the initial fight upon release of the tributes—only lasted about ten minutes, then the whole arena grew still. There were no more cannons, no more shouts of pain or shuffling of boots on rock. Chloe trekked up the mountainside, sticking to the areas with a softer incline, though there were very few. Her legs were already tired, her head pounding, and hair disheveled. She felt at ease for the moment, certain that no one had followed her path, but she did not welcome the feeling. Any moment relaxed was a moment she was in the most danger. She walked a bit further, climbing atop a wide boulder that gave her a better view of the lower parts of the mountain. She saw no one around, not even a stirring of birds or movement of trees in the distance.
Music from the Capitol blasted from above, echoing eerily over the mountainside. In the sky started projections of the tributes' faces, the ones killed off in the Bloodbath. Chloe craned her head to see through the treetops, only able to get a view of the district number towards the bottom of the image. She saw one from District 9, one from District 8, both from District 3, and both from District 7. Eighteen left. Chloe couldn't help but let out a breath of relief, one from the knowledge that no one from District 10 had been killed yet. She tried to shake the thought of Beca, the frustration she had felt at the girl. It was in the back of her mind, though, eating away at her like a tiny parasite lodged in her skull.
She rummaged through the backpack she'd taken, placing the contents neatly on the rock beside her. There wasn't much—most of the space had been occupied by a wool blanket that had been folded tightly and placed on top. Beneath it were four packages of some sort of dried food, three bottles of water, and a small knife that fit easily in her palm. It was a start, but certainly not enough for more than a couple days. She had to, Chloe decided, start to put on a show for the audience. But how? she wondered. There was no way to look glamorous while murdering others in an unflattering wool coat.
A rustling through the bushes broke Chloe of her thoughts. Her head snapped in the direction of the noise, and just when she dismissed it for a small animal, the sound occurred again, more drawn out the second time. It sounded like a person stumbling through twigs and brush, though she did not see any shapes in the distance.
Chloe closed one hand around the knife she had taken earlier, and swiftly repacked everything into the backpack. With a small leap, she launched herself off the face of the rock and into a quiet jog towards the direction of the noise.
Birds flew from their perches in the trees ahead. "You can't run!" said a voice that was drowned out by the rustling of trees. Chloe came to a path where branches were flattened or cut away. She stalked low, keeping her ears attuned to the continual shuffling of feet.
A girl screamed. The shuffling stopped.
Chloe quickened her pace, listening for the sound of a cannon. None came. She felt uneasy, worried that she should, perhaps, be running away from the sound rather than towards it. However, she already passed up one opportunity for a kill; she'd certainly lose the audience's attention if she did it again.
"Please!" came a shrill voice, different from the one Chloe heard before.
"Shut up!"
Chloe spotted a figure past a wall of overgrown bushes. She ducked lower, realizing it was a tall girl with long legs, her back facing Chloe. She had one hand against a tree branch, and the other was out of sight. Chloe squinted, unable to tell what the girl was doing. She slid her arm out from the strap of her bag, placing her supplies softly on the ground. She then raised the knife in front of her, creeping up slowly on her toes, weary of any stray twigs on the ground that may give away her position.
The tall girl jerked backwards. "Ow! You little shit…"
Chloe's eyes widened when she saw what stood between the tall tribute and the tree in front of her. A much smaller girl had dropped to the ground, her eyes meeting Chloe's almost immediately. Chloe stopped dead.
Of course. Of course it had to be her. Chloe thought, her eyes filling with equal amounts of rage and intrigue. A part of her felt excited in that moment, excited to see Beca alive and so far unharmed. But, this wasn't the place to meet. People probably expected Chloe to kill her—Chloe expected herself to kill her.
As Chloe saw the tall girl raise a silver, metal hatchet over her shoulder, she couldn't suppress her own reaction. Chloe lunged forward, tackling the girl into the tree, causing her to drop the axe to the ground. Both girls stumbled to their feet, taking a moment to register each other's faces. Chloe recognized the girl to be Bumper's partner, the female tribute from District 1. Her name was Steph—no—Stacie. Chloe almost smiled upon remembering the name, ducking back once she realized Stacie's fist was darting directly at her. Chloe swung towards the side with her knife, missing and hitting the tree instead. She tugged in attempt to free it, but let go as Stacie now swung at her with a small knife between her index and middle finger. The knife looked identical to the one in Chloe's pack.
"Come on, showgirl." Stacie said. Her arm curled into a sudden jab and she hooked the small blade into Chloe's upper arm, releasing it once it made contact.
Chloe let out a curt shriek, grasping at the small knife now embedded into her skin. She bent down, picking up the hatchet on the ground with her good arm and bringing it down against Stacie's shin without warning. Her stomach lurched at the sound of metal hitting bone, and Stacie screamed.
"Fuck!" came the strained cry of Stacie as she stumbled backwards.
Chloe returned to the tree, yanking her own knife from its bark just as Stacie pulled the hatchet from her leg with another shattering scream. Chloe turned back around, not moving forward, but instead hovering over the injured tribute. Stacie tried to stand up, but instead settled for crawling backwards as the mama bear before her simply bore down with an intense glare. Chloe, however, wasn't moving, wasn't making any gesture towards finishing the kill. Stacie took the cue, doing the best she could to hobble away and back through the bushes. Chloe let out a heavy breath. She at last pulled the small knife from her arm, grunting lowly at the pain. The knife dropped to the ground, eyed by the small brunette who sat motionless in the dirt.
"What a coincidence." Chloe said casually, as if the two had bumped into each other on a luxurious stroll. She slid the combat knife into her boot, moving back to the bushes and retrieving her pack. Her eyes returned to Beca's, scanning the skin of her neck where several bruises framed her jaw line. "Can you stand?" Chloe said after a long silence.
"You're not going to kill me?" Beca said, rising slowly as if Chloe were a snake about to lash out at any minute.
"My arm's tired." Chloe said.
Beca's eyes darted to the deep wound on the redhead.
Chloe offered a small smile. "Maybe later, okay?" she said with a saccharine tone.
Beca watched, slack-jawed, as Chloe leaned against the tree that both girls were nearly killed against a minute ago. The redhead removed two bottles of water from her backpack, holding one out at arm's length.
"Here." said Chloe.
Beca took a step closer, taking the water gently while keeping as much distance between them as she could. "T-thank you." she said. She unscrewed the cap, and took a few much-needed sips before closing up the bottle.
"Beca, right? I'm Chloe."
"I know."
"Are you hurt?"
"N-not as badly as you are."
Chloe smiled as the brunette returned her eyes to the tear in Chloe's coat that was now soaked with blood. She didn't dare touch the wound. It was painful, stinging all the way down from her shoulder to her wrist. She poured a few drops of water on it, wincing as the cold liquid made contact with her swollen flesh. As she returned the bottle to her pack, she noticed a shiny black lens fastened to the base of a nearby tree. It was a camera, a little hidden one that Chloe knew to have been recording everything. A smile crept up on her face.
"Thanks for before, too." Beca said slowly, eyes on the ground. Chloe could tell that the girl felt awkward, probably unsure whether to flee, attack, or do something in the middle.
"Should we get moving? I'm worried the fight might have alerted other people to where we are." Chloe said.
Beca's eyes widened. "O-oh you mean, like, together?"
Chloe nodded. "Why not? At least for now, right?"
"I…" Beca's eyes surveyed Chloe's, looking back and forth from one eye to another. Her hand was tight on the bottle of water and was trembling, causing the contents to slosh around rather loudly. "Okay." she said.
Chloe grinned, peering over at the black lens in the tree with satisfaction in her eyes.
(A/N) I'm totally going to regret putting characters other than Beca and Chloe as the tributes...they may all have to die at some point :O