My mind is in knots as we exit the doorways into the train station. The tributes from Districts Two and Four exited a different way so the citizens wouldn't see them and become suspicious. The train station's pathways are blocked off for us, but the people seeing us off are lined up by the dozens on the outskirts of the station. Children are chanting my name over and over again, and I tell myself I won't look back. I can't bear the thought knowing my odds of seeing them all again are slim to none. I glance over at Marvel, who, of course, is lathering up the audience's attention. He's blowing kisses and bowing and whooping as we make our way to the train.
"It's really nauseating that you do that," I state. He raises an eyebrow and looks over at me.
"How can you not love the attention? Hey, if this is the last time I get it, I'm taking advantage of it." He winks to a horde of girls and turns his back on them to continue walking with me. I don't say another word; he's got a point. But, nonetheless, we continue on the trail to our deaths and enter the train.
Already sitting in a compartment is the District Two girl, Clove, and her male counterpart. In the opposite booth are the District Four boy and girl. Finnick Odair is talking to the female mentor from District Two, whose name I heard to be Enobaria, when he stops midsentence to welcome Cashmere into the group. Awkwardly, I take a seat in the booth nearest the train door, half expecting Marvel to join me. But, instead, he continues down and sits with Clove and the boy. For me to join them is an unspoken pledge into the Careers, but to remain where I am is to prove my stand against them. I sigh, and instead, get up and walk down the corridor aimlessly, passing the corridor with Marvel. Eventually, Isaac gets on the train, and it thrusts into motion. This is it, there's really no turning back now. I consider the possibility of jumping out of one of the open windows. At the rate the train is moving, my chance at survival is pretty high, but I obliterate the idea from my mind completely.
"Alright, tributes! Begin strategizing! You have about four or five hours until we reach the Capitol, so get to!" Isaac beams into the booth containing Marvel and his newfound friends. He repeats the words over to the booth across. I continue walking for no reason. Maybe for the hope that if I walk far enough, there will be some sort of refuge for me where I don't have to fight in the Hunger Games and I can go back to my father and to Gale. I stick my hands into my dress pocket and turn the corner when my name is called out by an unfamiliar voice. I spin around to see Finnick Odair jogging to catch up to me.
"That is your name, right? Katniss?" I nod. "Katniss, I'm Finnick Odair."
"I know who you are," I say. "What are you, some hero coming to make my day better? Or are you here to tell me to start strategizing my death?" He looks astounded at my words, but recovers quickly.
"Calm down, Sweetcheeks, I was just coming to give you some tips." He reaches his hand into his pocket, pulls out something square and white, and pops it into his mouth. "Want a sugar cube?" He asks. "They're so sickeningly sweet that it'll probably make you forget about the next few months of complete hell. It's going to be the worst time of your life. Get excited!" He raises his eyebrows mockingly and starts walking back to where he came from.
"Wait. Finnick, wait." He stops, but keeps his back to me. I roll my eyes and catch up to him. "I would really appreciate any help I can get in these Games…"
"Well, what can you do?" He asks. I look at him with total confusion. He sighs. "What are your talents that you'll use in the arena? You know, like knife skills or stealth?"
"Bows and arrows. I can shoot anything anywhere at any time." I say almost immediately. He grins mischievously.
"If you aren't exaggerating, then that's impressive. Not everyone can do that. My advice to you, Katniss, is to hold back on the extent of your talents in front of the judges. Don't let them give you too high of a high score or you'll be targeted by some of your own." He pops another sugar cube in his mouth, and he points behind him, talking about the other Careers.
"I wasn't going to trust them anyway. I prefer to work alone."
"Interesting," he says, staring at me. He moves closer, leveling his face with mine. "Don't trust them. Don't even trust your District One frien—"
"My dad already told me not to, and I'm not stupid. I wasn't going to—"
"Don't," he raises his hand up, "cut me off midsentence. I hate when people do that. Listen to me. Don't trust them, because as soon as they see you're stronger than them, they'll sabotage you and make sure you're the first to go." He almost whispers, lowering his hand, "mislead them now if you must, but as soon as those Games start, stick to yourself. Run the opposite way. And believe me, Katniss, I would know. I won one of these before, and I was expected to be in the Careers, but I wasn't." Now, he's inches from my face. His beautiful sea green eyes are wondrous and fantastic, but I snap out of my small reverie.
"I understand; I believe you. But, Finnick," I say barely loud enough for myself to hear, "why did you tell me this and not your own tributes?" He grins.
"You just seem like you deserve it most out of any of them, kid." He pats my head and gestures in front of him. "Now, go back there and act like you care about them." He crosses his arms and sends me off.
I trail back through the halls to the booth now containing all of the Careers. As I enter, their heads raise. "Well, if it isn't the ever so famous Katniss Everdeen." The male tribute from District Two grins. "We thought we might've scared you away before the Games even started." He winks and slouches back in seat. Clove catches the wink and scowls at me.
"If you expect us to do all the work, then you're out of luck." She sneers.
"No, I'll do work." I state firmly, and take a seat next to the District Four girl. Maps and diagrams and pads of paper with notes on them are spread out around the table. I take a diagram and analyze it. Red circles are drawn around areas that are heavily wooded. "Why the circles?" I ask.
The District Two boy is the first to speak, "they're the places that we're planning to set up base at." He says, taking the paper from me. He points to a circle and then drags his hand along a red line leading to a second circle. "We stay in vicinity of circle one for a while, then move after a few days to keep the audience enticed." The audience. Of course! This is all about what the audience in the Capitol wants.
"Hey," Marvel says, a new idea obviously blossoming. "Why don't we go around and share what our strengths are, you know, to decide who will stay and guard base at which time." Uh-oh, I think. Finnick's words fill my head, and I have to think fast. Do I lie to the people who are my supposed allies? Or do I risk sabotage and certain death? My mind is in a whirl when I hear my name being called by Marvel. "Katniss? Hello?" He waves a hand in front of my face. I regain lucidity and turn to him.
"Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about what it is I'm good at," I fake a laugh.
"Yeah, because I'm sure that list is long," Clove scoffs sarcastically.
"Actually it is," I lie. "I happen to be a great," I hesitate, only for a moment to let my instincts kick in. "Miner." The booth erupts in laughter and I grow angry. "By that I mean I have incredible upper body strength," I raise my voice, defending myself. Defending my father.
"What are you, from District 12?" Clove laughs. My breathing halts.
"I'm sorry that your jealously is blinding you, Clove, but I would really love to hear what you're so fantastic in." I snap, gritting my teeth. The room falls silent. Clove's face contorts from that of an average teenage girl into something horribly vicious.
"I'm great with knives." She says in a low voice. "I could cut your heart out before you could even blink." Clove and I stare at one another, not breaking eye contact while the remainder of the tributes stay completely immobile.
"I could snap your bones in half with my bare hands before you could even blink," I mock. It's a complete lie, but my hostility towards this girl is at its peak.
"Well," the District Four boy says, "maybe we should just change the subject if everyone's going to get all antsy about it."
"Shut up," She and I speak at the same time. The District Four boy leans back in his seat and sticks up his arms in surrender. His fellow tribute smacks him lightly on the shoulder and whispers something into his freckled ear.
Finally, Clove pushes the table aside and stalks out of the room. As she turns the corner, she screams out, filling the entire train with an ear-piercing bellow, "AND DON'T FOLLOW ME, CATO!" There's a chuckle of disbelief coming from the District Two boy, who I now assume to be Cato. He turns to me.
"You better watch yourself, Miner Girl. She's violent." He gets up and walks out of the room, following her. Oh God, what have I done? I ask myself. This is all Finnick's fault. If he hadn't coaxed me into lying at such an early time, I wouldn't have frozen and gotten angry. Marvel stands and begins to walk out of the room as well, but turns around as he reaches the door.
"What was that, Katniss? They're supposed to be our teammates." He shakes his head and continues out into the hallway. Now not only do I not have allies, I've already created three enemies, one of them being from my own district. I shudder in absolute frustration and cross the hall to my own booth. I lock the door and sit on the bench. There's no way I could win this. Clove is a sadistic sociopath and with Cato on her side I'll be the first one dead. I pound my fists into the leather seats and wait for the arrival announcement so I can be one step closer to my death.
