Chapter 1: The 13th Hunger Games
16-year-old Duke Vedaldi trudged along with his mother, Julie, down the road from the Seam. His best clothes only accentuated his handsome features: piercing blue eyes (inherited from his merchant father, waiting back home), chiseled face and jaw, broad forehead and a short crop of hair that stuck up at the top.
He had only been a toddler when the Rebellion happened, too little to really even remember a time before the dreaded Hunger Games. But, here they were again, in their 13th year, and today was Reaping Day. Tonight, two poor souls – one boy and one girl – would be sent on a long journey to their pretty much certain deaths.
Duke registered, as he had the last four years since he had become age-eligible and said goodbye to his mother. Then, he went to stand in the roped-off area for the other sixteen year old boys.
Every year was the same. The Mayor would stand and play a Capitol-produced video explaining the need for the Hunger Games. Duke knew the whole thing by heart, and it was boring as hell. Then, the Mayor – a practical man who always made sure to follow the schedule exactly – would awkwardly begin what was clearly a canned line from some printed script: "Now, we shall give the names of past District 12 victors:", followed by a momentary silence before the Capitol escort, Proteus Inhofe, would then draw from the Reaping Balls. The Past Victors announcement was always met by some amusement in Twelve. Why even bother saying that they would be introduced? There had never been a victor from District 12. Ever. It was just starting to get embarrassing, in fact, because every other district had produced at least one victory in the past twelve years except for them. Hell, District 1 had already emerged victorious twice. Duke would have thought that a previous Games could have at least been rigged or something to ensure District 12 got a win, because Lord knows none of their tributes could do it on their own. All were too little to work in the mines by the time they got to the arena, and apparently Proteus had to also double in the role of mentor – a previous victor of the Games. Given how all two dozen District 12 tributes thus far had come home in a coffin, he didn't do a very good job.
Proteus's voice interrupted Duke's thoughts: "Gracey Simone!" An older girl of 18 with a round, beautiful face and luminous eyes tried to look brave as she took the stage. Her olive skin clearly gave her away as a Seam girl, but Duke did not know her.
Then, Proteus reached into the Boys Reaping Ball. Duke readied himself to leave the pen and find his mother as soon as the poor soul took the stage:
"Duke Vedaldi!"
Sweet wounded Panem. The poor soul was him.