Beetee
Garth is frozen, standing there on his plate frozen, a look of panic in his eyes. This kids is used to working with computers, running and fighting are not things he does particularly well. Not at all. "Move damnit!" I say and pound my fist into the counter in front of my mentor screen. Wiress jumps and instantly raises an arm to deflect whatever blow might be coming, then realizes there is nothing coming, that it's only me, and turns back to her screen. Left over reflex of a past tribute. I glance up-her tribute has snagged a backpack and some meat and is running like a bat out of hell for the trees. Good for her. Girl's got some common sense. Unlike the boy I mentored who has still not left his plate and is frantically whipping his head back and forth trying to tell which direction he should run in. We're 30 seconds into the bloodbath and he hasn't moved. Kid's a freaking genius when it comes to machines but can't think himself out of danger. Finally he jumps off his plate and takes off running across the top half of the circle around the cornucopia towards the woods. "Thank God!" I think and then see that he has stopped part of the way across, distracted by something. He turns and runs towards something shiny laying in the grass about 20 feet away from him. Maybe it's wire or something he can put to good use. But no, as he gets closer I see that it's only foil packaging, dried fruit or crackers most likely. I can see the disappointment cross his face a second before an arrow pierces his chest and he drops to the ground. Wiress reaches over and grabs my hand. "Shit!" I yell and pound on the counter again. God damn kid died for a pack of crackers. I look over at Wiress.
"What a…" and she trails off.
"Waste." I finish her sentence for her. What a hell of a waste. There is cheering coming from the booths on either side of ours. Districts 2 and 4, both career districts and their tributes are alive and well and busy slaughtering the others. In fact, as I look at the large screen inside our booth which is over top of our smaller individual tribute screens I see that the tribute with the bow and arrows is the girl from 4. I get up and walk into the booth next door where Finnick Odair and Mags are sitting, their eyes glued to the screen. Annie Cresta is sitting on the padded bench along the wall behind them. They all look up when I come in and Mags reaches out to me and mumbles something that is most likely an apology. Her tribute killed mine.
"Sorry Beetee," Finnick says, glancing away from the screen for a few seconds. I just nod and slump down next to Annie.
"Just don't cheer about it where I can hear ok Odair? I say.
He nods and says "Sure, but that's now why, YES!." I see his skinny little 13 year old tribute grabbing a backpack and a spear and running through a maze of fighting tributes to the woods, neatly dodging a sword wielded by the District 10 boy who is at least 3 times his size. Kid has spunk, I have to give him that. Reminds me of Finnick the year he won his games. Hell, Finnick's still just a kid himself for the most part. Good for him! I say to no one in particular. I get up to leave and pat Annie on the shoulder on my way out. She looks up at me with eyes that are frighteningly vacant.
"Hey Beetee," she whispers.
"Hey Annie," I say. Then she turns her eyes back to the wall and continues to stare at nothing. Good lord, she didn't even know I was there.