A/N This here, is a story about what would happen if the Dalton boys were in The Hunger Games. This originally started as me just playing around with the idea, and it slowly evolved into this. In this chapter, you're introduced to the other Districts the other boys are in.
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Disclaimer: I don't own Justin, Adam, Bailey, Danny, Julian, Logan, Derek, Spencer, or Merril. They all belong to the magical CP Coulter. I also don't own any of the Districts or pretty much everything else. I only own Miranda.
When the head trainer, Atala, finishes her explanation, I can't help but glance around at the tributes beside me. The sandy-haired boy from District 4. Daniel, I think. The dark-haired boy and girl from District 12 seem to be sticking together, a strategy I'm sure will not end up in their favor. The District 8 boy's bigger than me, but he looks like he's never really been full. It's kind of shocking, really, how…hollow some of these kids look. Like they've never had a full meal. I wonder what it would be like to have to ration everything you eat. It has to be kind of depressing to have to survive each day with such little food when you know there are people in the Capitol who have more than enough to eat. But that has an advantage, too. They can survive with little to no food. They're used to it. I'd be dead in couple of days without food.
I decided to head over to the spear-throwing, where Miranda's excelling at. When she sees me, she smirks.
"Decided to actually learn to fight, brat prince? Did you do the math and figure out that twenty-three other people want you dead?" I wince at my old nickname, Miranda's taken to calling me that, but otherwise keep my face clear of emotion.
"Miranda, just because you learned how to throw a spear at age ten and I learned at eleven, doesn't mean that I know any less about fighting."
"Oh right, you've been in gangs since your first reaping, huh?"
I can see Miranda's face when she sees my ten. It's a mixture of surprise and determination. I know she didn't expect me to get such a high score, and now she's hoping for my death even more. Most of it turns to pride when she sees that she earned a nine. I can't say I was expecting it, but at least I know that she's definitely not going to go easily.
I know I already know everything there is to know about weapons, so I think about going to tie knots. I can already see that the District 4 boy is there already, though, and I don't want an audience. Especially not an audience who's probably an expert at tying knots. I decide to go to fire-starting even though District 12 is there. They're probably just as bad as I am at starting fires, anyway. When I make my way over there (12 took all the steps to stay out of my way) I realize this is much harder than it looks. I struggle to start even a small fire with matches, while it's obvious that District 12 is more advanced.
I feel a surge of pride as I see my eleven on the screen. A score I deserved. Twelve would be ideal, of course, but eleven is good too.
Despite my mentor's instructions to stay clear of any allies unless necessary, I end up making friendly conversation with Derek Seigerson, the male tribute from District 8; Julian Larson, the tribute from 5; and Logan Wright from 6. They're friendly, yet I can't help but feel like there's a stronger alliance between the three of them. Even if there isn't, it's obvious that Julian and Logan are sticking together. Derek excels at hand-to-hand combat, Julian's amazing with a bow and arrow, and Logan's great at building shelters. I know I'm in trouble, because all in all, I don't want to kill them. I don't want any of them to die.
Huh. Six. Lower than should be helpful, but higher than I expected. I guess it's expected when Derek earns a nine. He's excellent at fighting.
It's probably a waste of time to spend time at a station when I know the skill already very well, but there's most likely some knots that I don't know. The instructor seems nice enough, and he's thrilled that I can do most advanced knots. He shows me trap that could trap someone into a net, and I decide to stay put. When I look up, I notice that District 12 has joined me. They're sweating over a simple knot that I've known since I was young. Their mistakes, which are probably very small to them, are so painfully obvious to me that it takes all my restraint to not cringe just watching them.
"Is there something wrong?" I look up at the sound of the boy's voice, and I realize that I've been staring at them for at least a minute. His dark eyes are sharp, watching me as if I'm going to attack, even though it's illegal. I guess training before the Games are illegal too, so he probably doesn't expect me to play by the rules.
"It's nothing, it's just that…you're knot tying skills really are awful." Oops. They look really offended. Or at least the boy does. The girl looks much kinder, more maternal.
"Well, not all of us spent our childhood making nets," The boy says stiffly.
"Spencer, don't be so harsh to him," The girl says disapprovingly.
Spencer looked livid. He started muttering to the girl, who I think he calls Merril, and I can tell his anger is directed at me.
"I'm sorry for offending you," I say after he's stopped. "I could help you, if you want." Merril smiled kindly and accepted my offer. Spencer was a bit more hesitant, but he grew less hostile towards me after about an hour of instruction. I know I shouldn't be helping them this much, but I really don't hate them.
I have to admit, I'm surprised I got an eleven. I thought I'd get maybe a ten, but an eleven? I hadn't even considered it. When I see that Spencer got an eight, and Merril got a seven, I wonder what they showed the Gamemakers. Spencer probably showed how good is with knives. Merril might've shown her improvement with tying knots.
"Try pulling the arrow back farther." I look behind me to find the source of the advice. A brunet boy, who I think is from District 5, is standing behind me. I guess I was really distracted with trying to get a bulls eye, because I didn't hear him come at all. He picks up a bow and a sheath of arrows, shooting them all straight through the heart of a dummy, making it look effortless.
"Julian Larson," He says after he's finished. "You must be John Logan Wright." I cringe at my full name.
"If you call me John one more time, I swear I'll make your life hell in the arena," I tell Julian as I pick up another arrow. I decide to try his advice and, surely enough, the arrow managed to pierce the bull's-eye.
"You're pretty good at this," I say to him.
"Oh no, all that shooting was really my evil twin brother who's trying to impersonate me."
Huh. Ten. I have to say, I didn't expect Julian to get a score so high. Although my nine is equally unexpected.