Chapter 3

Seneca Ward POV

I blinked by eyes several times, feeling my heart pound in my chest. Just a few minutes now until we enter the Arena. Just a few minutes. I grab a bottle of water and drink most of it, sputtering slightly. No matter what my family says, I'm not prepared for this. What can I do?

My stylist comes up to me, an encouraging look on her face. "Time to roll!" She actually winks as she presses my district token, a silver ring, into my hands. I slip it on with a forced smile. I know it looks sickly because she makes a clucking noise before shooing me towards the lifts. I swallow, then step in.

This year, we're dressed in skin-tight black suits. No telling what the Arena will be like. But it's unlikely it'll be too cold. That was always an unpopular choice because of the number of quiet deaths.

I shiver as I zoom up to the surface. Will it be dark? Bright? Hot? Cold? Will I need-

I cut that train of thought off mid-stride. No point. I need to focus on getting a sword. I can use swords. And don't get killed.

My pulse thrums in my ears as I slide up into the Arena. And all of a sudden, my eyes widen, because I've never seen an Arena like this.

We're in the middle of a metropolis. Skyscrapers stretch out to every side. The sky is overcast and grey- not a bit of sun peeks through. No trees, no animals to hunt. I'm willing to bet that the only food in this entire arena is in the Cornucopia.

This year, it's also grey and metallic. Weirdly, it seems to shimmer as I look at it. Is it a trap? No way to tell.

I look down at the ground around me. Not many supplies. I see a sword, though, only about five meters from me. That's the first thing I want.

I look up again. The other tributes have mingled expressions of horror, doubt, and confusion. A few others look focused too.

I count down. Thirty… twenty… ten…

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Sion Glass POV

One.

I'm already leaping from my plate at the last second. If the mines deactivate at the gong, I have about a half a second in the air before I set them off. That's enough time to get ahead.

I sprint forwards, grabbing the nearest things. I scoop up a satchel and run ten more meters to snag a belt with five knives. The Cornucopia shimmers like a mirage, and I instinctively back away, then begin to run. I have all that I can carry and still run now.

When I saw the buildings, I thought this must have been some kind of insane joke. The year I get reaped, and it's the best setup I could have hoped for.

I have the knives fixed around my waist now, and I'm running at full tilt. I can hear the sounds of combat from behind me, but I don't dare to look back. I saw the Careers banding together as usual, and I distinctly saw the girls from 10 and 11 take thrown knives to the chest. I imagine they're dead by now.

Better sooner than later, I feel myself think. I'm mildly appalled by this train of thought, but quickly focus back on the situation. I'm far from the Cornucopia by now, so I can probably start looking around.

The door to the skyscraper opens easily, and I look around cautiously. Hardly daring to hope, I walk to the nearest room.

Computers. Row upon row. I feel my face light up with glee. Even if there's no electricity, there's plenty of parts to scavenge.

Which reminds me. What did I get from the Cornucopia? I check the satchel, and it holds a few bags of dried fruit and an empty bottle. I scowl, my good mood broken. All of this electrical stuff will be for nothing if I can't find a source of water.

I tense as I hear a few loud crashes. Someone else is coming into the building! I crouch down, lying under the table, my heart pounding. I hold as still as I can.

I hear two sets of footsteps. Two voices follow soon after. "Jasper, this isn't going to work! We need to run farther away." A girl.

"Calm down, Seren." This one is male. "We'll be fine." He puts something down with a clatter. Probably a sword. "Let's just wait here."

Silent curses poured through my mind. Should I just announce myself? They're from Twelve, anyway. But something tells me this will be a bad decision. Instead, I begin to quietly pull the back off of the nearest computer, using a knife to loosen the screws. I can retrieve enough materials to build something to help me even with this nuiscance.

Happy 99th Hunger Games, indeed. I intend to live through this at all costs.