Chapter 4

Today I am going to meet the 47 kids who are going to die. Or 46, if you include me. Of course you would. I don't have much chance of leaving the arena alive.
The teams and tributes meet for breakfast. I make sure I eat plenty today. I'm going to need the energy.
Rora escorts us into the training room. It's massive and equipped with every sort of weapon a man who was readying for a battle could dream on. Melees, machetes, swords, bows and arrows. There are stations for building and climbing and fires. A lady stands in the middle and coughs to hush the 48 sullen voices that fill the room like ominous gases.
"Welcome to the Training Room! What you learn here over the next three days will decide your fate in the arena. In two weeks, forty seven of you will be dead." There is a murmur of scared and battle- ready voices. I look up to see the Careers looking at me. Great. "Hush, hush. Do not study what you know well. Learn knew things. Your time begins now."
I start for the table that shows you what you can eat and where to find things that won't poison you on the first day. I'm joined by a girl I remember as Tula, from Eleven. She's tall and well built, and she catches me staring at her.
"Oh, hello. I'm-"
"Tula, yes, I remember." I supply. Her look of approving has a sort of finality to it. Like she's considering me.
"Glad to see you learnt it. No one else here has bothered." I nod. She looks at me and tilts her head. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you know my name?"
I hesitate. "I... Want to remember everyone who dies."
I've said the wrong thing. Her face contorts, in pain maybe,but then she smiles. "Yeah, right. Nice technique." She asks nothing more.
We work together on learning what berries we can eat. I steer clear of some berries that have skin as smooth as the night sky, because I've seen what they do. Tula obviously hasn't, and she goes to eat one.
"Tula! No-" I slap her hand away. Her eyes widen. The person manning the food station laughs.
"Good eyes, boy. Fortunately, that's just an imitation, a placebo injected with a knock out serum. Not the most pleasant of feelings, but it won't kill you. Not yet!" He grins. Tula looks at me.
"Thanks," she nods.
Together, we walk over to the station full of firewood, and begin to kindle a flame. I manage it immediately, and Tula follows short. Then she looks up and catches my eye.
"Haymitch. Want to be... Allies?"
"No." I answer straight away. I've already considered this. She looks hurt. "No, I mean, I don't want to watch someone I know die. I can't face that." Her face forms into an understanding look, and she nods.
"We'll, let's stick together in here. I've a few things to show you."
Tula teaches me to climb trees. She shows me what branches are safe to step on, and how to land and not break your neck if you fall. I show her how to throw knives, and although she's not as good as I am, she catches on fast. We reach the end of our turn and she looks at me.
"Best part ways, then."
I agree. She wishes me luck and I turn my back.
At the knots station there are three tributes from One, and all four from Three. They bare their teeth as I approach, but I hold my head high and braid a piece of rope into a net. They watch, eyes wide, and I smirk. But stop as Doj glares at me. I move on.
I come to the edible food stage again, as I have nothing else to do, and Violet is there. With Tomas. I smile at her as she catches my eye, and she squeals and looks away. I look at Tomas just as he raises a nightlock berry to his lips and swallows. There's a bang and a miniature cannon goes off as he collapses. Violet squeals again and immediately bursts out crying. The trainer behind the table laughs so hard his glasses fall off his nose.
"Violet, it's ok! It's ok, he'll live," I say hurriedly and glare up at the man. He stops and gives me a harrowing stare. Great, he'll be putting a word in for me with the gamemakers.
Violet only stops crying when Tomas comes to, the red juice still staining his lips. I've lost precious time but I will not let the gamemakers overpower these young children.
The three days leach on painfully as I watch the forty seven other kids murder fabric dummies with spears and set fire to sticks. The majority of the tributes here know what they are doing, but the younger children cling to each other. There's one girl from Seven who has no one to cling to. I almost feel sorry for her when I remember it's no use because she's going to die anyway.
I work my way around the stations lazily until the last day. I shift some weights with the two boys from Six, but don't speak a word to them. I'm throwing my last spear when the bell rings signalling the end of training.
I eat lunch in silence. It's not easy to be sociable when every eye in the training centre is trained to kill you. The food is nice, and I eat steadily as to not over stuff myself. And then, after forty minutes of eating the finest food I'll ever taste, they start calling the tributes in for the private sessions.
There are twice as many tributes this year so obviously, it will take twice as long. I sigh and carry on eating because most likely I'll be fourth from last, as Twelve is the last district in line, and I'm the oldest boy. The wait is agonising and by the time they've reached Seven I'm almost asleep with my chin rested on a bread roll. Tomas is in fact asleep, his head rested on the table and his mouth lolling open. Violet and Maysilee stare into the distance, Maysilee hugging her knees and Violet absent mindedly twirling her finger in her hair. I exhale for the thousandth time in twenty minutes and continue waiting.
No one talks until the last girl from Eleven is called in. Then, Maysilee looks at me. The four of us are the last ones in the room.
"What will you show them?" I don't reply. I don't want her knowing what I'm good at. "Haymitch!" I shoot her a glare and that shuts her up.
Fifteen turns of the clock later and I am walking into the room. A great metal door slams behind me. I head straight for the knives, head held high, trying to make a good impression. I toss one up and it sticks in the ceiling. Oops. Not intended... I don't falter and pretend I know exactly what I'm doing. Another knife catches the tail end of the other and they both fall, crashing straight into a dummy's head that swings from a rope below them. I grin. I turn, crouch and toss a knife up at the dummy's heart so it swings violently on its rope. Ducking completely, I lie beneath it and sever the rope with another knife as it swings out. I flip upwards and fling another knife at another dummy. I'm laughing, having way too much fun, then I notice I'm the centre of attention. The head gamemaker stands up, and thanks me. I leave the room feeling exhilarated.
That evening, I join everyone for dinner with a smile on my face. I know I shouldn't have my hopes up but the thrill of those knives is still replaying in my head. Rora asks why I'm so happy but I just shake my head. I catch Josef's eye and smile. We leave the table after a delicious meal of duck and orange and go to watch the scores.
As per normal, now, the mandatory program viewing takes twice as long. In the time that it takes to get to Eleven's scores I allow myself to think of Mom, Tomas and Clara for the first time since the Justice building back home. I wonder what they think of all they've seen so far, including my competition and my training. That moment of 'weakness' with Tomas and the nightlock. I twist the ring on my finger and sit up as my face appears on the screen.
"Haymitch Abernathy. Nine."
Nine!
I grin. That's a great score, for me. For a district twelve tribute. Not as good as the four tens that have been scored but good enough for me.
I stay glued to the screen as Tomas scores a four, Violet a five and Maysilee a seven. The stylists, prep teams and Rora and Josef give us all a round of applause. I hear Rora mumble "good enough" under her breath.
I go to bed easily that night, and dream of Clara and home.