Chapter Four
POV: Ludovic Robertson (15), Male Tribute, District 4
The District 4 Tribute's Train, en route to the Capitol
6.45 am, Monday 9th July, year of the 66th Hunger Games
I sleep fitfully, reliving the previous day's traumas in my dreams. Finally I find I can take sleep no longer and rise from bed shortly before dawn. A look at the clock says it's quarter to seven. I shower, then put on the same clothes as yesterday and grab a light blue hooded jacket that zips up my front and put it on over the top. It's different to any of the buttoned shirts I wear at home, but very comfortable.
I'm in the dining car getting breakfast before anyone else wakes. The sun is just rising, and I see that the sea appears to be a long way behind us, out of sight. Now we travel through a hilly, wooded region that I'd guess to be near District 7. Not that I'll ever get to find out. But the sea is gone, and I momentary feel empty as I wonder if I'll ever see the waves again.
The dining car is deserted apart from the Capitol guard by the breakfast tables. Somehow he makes me feel uneasy as he stands watching me, so tall and serious. I head to the buffet table and pick up two rounds of toast, butter them, and head to the chairs in front of the television to eat them. A news broadcast is on at the moment, but I quickly get bored of it as it talks only of petty issues such as fashion, celebrities and music. And, of course, the Hunger Games.
I'm halfway through the second round of toast when Finnick walks in. He also gets himself food, though I've finished eating by the time he's sat opposite me across the coffee table.
"Morning, Ludo," he says gruffly. I can tell he's just woken up. "Long day ahead, though you'll get the full details from Flavius, I'm sure. I shan't bother you with all the tenuous details. He'll tell you them again, anyway."
This puts a smile on my face for the first time since the Reaping. Yes, it's been bad for me, but at least Finnick will be here to help.
"Of course, tonight is the opening ceremony, in which you will appear in the tributes' parade. You'll spend all day with your stylist preparing for that, so I shan't waste my breath on it. You know what I'm like with fashion." It's great seeing Finnick as normal, although there does seem to be something more serious than usual in our conversation. As though some of the laughter has been lost. I can guess why. Now he's my mentor, he has a job to do. He has a responsibility. To get me home alive.
"Now, down to business," he continues. Well, that was expected. "I've always kept my experiences of the arena from you. Because I know that nobody should ever be allowed to put themselves through what we tributes have to. But I will tell you what I can about tactics."
Brilliant. This is just what I've wanted to hear since the Reaping. A plan, however vague it may be.
"As you know, all the contestants start forty metres from the cornucopia, where the choice supplies are held. When the minute ends, the fastest sprinters will reach the cornucopia first. They will have the best weapons. Whether they keep them for longer than a minute or two will depend on how competent they are. As everyone gets armed, the cornucopia will turn into a bloodbath. You must not get involved in the fight. You're not up to it, physically."
Well, I've known this myself, anyway. Usually between six and twelve of the tributes are killed off in the first hour. It's never been in my interests to consider rushing to the cornucopia.
"Then again, if you are to keep yourself alive in the arena, then you will need some supplies from the cornucopia. Not necessarily a weapon, but survival kit. A sleeping bag, some matches, a water bottle, anything really. And you'll need all of it that you can get."
"Won't that mean going to the cornucopia to gather supplies, though?" I ask, slightly confused.
"Not necessarily," replies Finnick. "Now, here's something I didn't know until I was in the arena; the supplies strewn around the edge of the cornucopia are really valuable. Maybe not as good as those in the centre of the horn, but certainly life-saving. For instance, you might find a sleeping bag ten metres out, but a tent at the centre. Or a few plasters fifteen metres out, and a full first-aid kit at the mouth of the horn. But most of the supplies that kept me alive last year were from the surrounding area, ten or twenty metres out. So, here's what I'd suggest. Grab supplies that are up to thirty metres in, then get out of there. Don't go within ten metres of the cornucopia."
"Ok, but once I'm away from the cornucopia, what then?"
"Once you're away from the cornucopia, there can only be one priority; find water. Whatever kind of terrain you're thrown into, there will be water. Otherwise everyone will be dead in a week, and the games will be no good in the Capitol. They'll want it to drag a bit. So you'll have to locate the water source and keep stocked up. Also, you can catch fish in the water. You're a decent young fisherman. If not, you can find food in plants. We've spent long enough in the woods around Four to know what's poisonous. The rest is up to you, but I'd recommend finding high ground. You'll be protected from ranged attacks, there are usually a couple of bows at the cornucopia, and you'll get a good view of the arena. Get to know your surroundings, and use it to outwit your enemies. Plus, you'll be able to see them coming. From then in, there's one rule; stay alive. Forget ethics, and trust your instincts. Stealing isn't illegal in the arena, and no-one will punish you for murder. As much as it may seem immoral, you won't think twice about it in the arena. The arena changes you, Ludo. It makes survival the only important thing. Nothing else matters at all once you're in there."
It all sounds too dark, too unreal. But I know it's true. Survival is the only thing that matters. And Finnick is here to help me survive. I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. I have nothing to say to him. His words have numbed me. We sit in silence for fifteen or so minutes, before Finnick gets up and retires to his room. Mags and Maddie come and go, talking quickly and mutedly. The sun is high in the sky by the time Flavius arrives for breakfast, and I take the opportunity to get a further helping of food for myself.
We sit together at the table as I start on my third round of toast.
"Today, Ludo, we arrive at the Capitol."
This I already knew. The opening ceremony is tonight. What we'll do until then, I have no idea.
As if reading my mind, Flavius continues. "Now, as I'm sure you know, the opening ceremony is this evening. Today, in preparation for that, you will be with your stylist, who will be making you look presentable for the Tribute's Parade."
This seems reasonable. Strangely, I'm not nervous about meeting my stylist. She was with Finnick last year; hopefully she'll give me similar treatment.
"When we arrive, you will be taken straight to the Remake Centre, where you will meet your stylist, Julia, and be prepared for your debut at the ceremony. Of course, this is a massive occasion. This is your first chance to impress sponsors."
Of course, that's easier said than done. Most sponsors haven't the money to back two tributes, so it's important that any chance to impress the sponsors is acted upon perfectly.
At this point, all goes black in the dining car as the train enters a tunnel, and two seconds later the car is flooded with white light.
"Ah, we're nearly here," explains Flavius. "We're now travelling under the mountains that surround the Capitol, that the ancients called the 'Rockies'. We'll be in the Capitol in ten minutes."
We stand to leave our table and head to the windows of the car as Finnick enters the room and joins us.
"When you get to the Capitol, your image is the most important thing," he reminds me. "Follow my lead at the station."
I don't have long to prepare. I'm suddenly blinded by the bright lights as we come out of the tunnel pulling into the station, virtually at the platform. The deceleration causes me to lose my balance, but I at least manage to stay on my feet. As I get a better look at the station, I see just how different the Capitol is from home. In comparison to the simple, one track station in Four, there are countless lines stretching out on our right. The small brick ticket office and waiting room are now a massive structure, white-walled with a large glass roof. The handful of people lying around waiting for a train have transformed into hundreds of oddly-dressed men and women wearing the most obscene shades of green, lilac and orange, all cheering frantically at us, the new celebrities in town. I don't see why they get so attached to the tributes. We'll nearly all be dead in two weeks.
I then notice our Capitol guards parting the crowds, who are quickly followed by Mags and Maddie, who make their way into the first of two sleek, silver cars waiting on the platform to escort us to the Remake Centre.
I turn to Finnick, who is beckoning me out of the now-open doors of the dining car. As I pass him, he whispers in my ear;
"Eyes straight ahead, head high; don't notice the crowd."
Flavius is already on the platform waiting for me to follow. Gingerly, I leave the train behind me. The first thing I notice is the heat. The sweltering July sun is coming through the glass roof of the station and turning the building into a giant greenhouse. Quickly after noticing the heat, the wall of noise hits me. Hundreds of people, shouting, screaming, calling my name, reaching out to touch me; I really am a celebrity. I so desperately want to act like Maddie does so naturally and play the crowds, but she isn't being mentored by Finnick. And Finnick has given me orders. For all I know, they could be the difference between life and death.
I'm in the car after what feels like ten seconds, sitting between Flavius and Finnick. I'm so glad for the pair of them. Without them, I'd be completely out of my depth here. The car is so luxurious. The air in here has been cooled, so that it feels like the more temperate climate of March, and we sit in spacious, well-padded leather seats, leaving us in perfect comfort. Our car follows Maddie and Mags' car out of the station, barely making a sound as it is driven by one of our guards.
As we leave the station, I get my first proper look at the Capitol, and I'm instantly lost for words. It's so majestic, this place. Tall, elegant buildings in a myriad of colours are all around me. The wide tiled roads have many sleek, shiny cars on them, the whole place feels alive as thousands of oddly-clothed citizens roam the streets.
"Amazing, isn't it?" smirks Finnick, half stunned himself. Evidently seeing this place once isn't enough to fully appreciate its grandeur.
After what I'd guess was ten minutes, we arrive at a tall, thin building that appears to be semi-circular in shape, with the curved side almost completely made of glass. This is the Remake Centre, our home for the next nine hours. Our cars pull to a half directly in front of the Remake Centre. As we get out and head to the foyer, we regroup with Maddie and Mags.
"Alright, tributes," addresses Flavius. "You're now going to be taken to your stylists, Julia and Lucius. For the first time here, you're on your own. It's up to the stylists from now until eight this evening, an hour before the ceremony starts. Until then, what happens to you is up to your stylists. Now, the Remake Centre has 13 floors. As you're from District 4, you two will meet your stylist on floor four. Good luck, and see you tonight."
As me and Maddie headed to the elevator, Finnick pulled me back.
"What?" I complain frustratedly.
"One point," he says, trying to keep my attention. "No matter how ludicrous Julia's idea might be, don't object to her plans for you. Trust me, it'll turn out fine in the end. It did for me."
"Uh... Ok, I'll try." I say in reply. Finnick doesn't seem convinced.
"Promise?"
"Fine, whatever," I shrug, which gets a small laugh from Finnick.
We quickly shake hands and I turn to leave.
In the elevator, alone with Maddie, I can't help but think of our conversation last night. Of how I know she'll be trying to kill me. I need her as an ally. One, because I don't want her targeting me. And two, because if anyone's going to kill her, I don't want to have to do it myself. But now is not the time for making friends. Even old friends.
As the elevator doors open out into a corridor, we get our first look at our stylists.
Lucius, Maddie's stylist, appears to have similar tastes in fashion to Flavius, as he is also wearing a high-collared fabric coat, and has blond streaks in his dark hair. He does come across quite emotionless, though. I hope he's a little nicer than he seems. I want him to be good for Maddie.
My stylist, Julia, stands next to Lucius, though almost a foot shorter than him. I might even be taller than her. She wears a knee-length, tight-fitting red dress, and has her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. She's undoubtedly very pretty, and very conscious over her looks. This level of perfection must have taken a lot of care and attention. Hopefully she can apply the same care and attention to me.
Lucius leads Maddie into a room on our left, leaving me alone with my stylist for the first time.
"Hello, Ludo," Julia begins, speaking in the high-pitched, nasal voice that I've long associated with Capitol women. Though woman might not be the right word; she could pass for sixteen. In reality, she's probably in her early twenties.
"Hello," I answer back, rather formally.
"Oh, Ludo, slacken off the formalities a little," Julia jokes, which puts me at ease a bit. I think I'll get used to her. "Well, I guess some people are just destined to meet." she continues, confusing me a little. "Oh, don't be alarmed," she says reassuringly. "You just might've been mentioned a little in mine and Finnick's conversations last year."
It feels weird, knowing that Finnick spoke of me to people in the Capitol. Obviously Capitol people are worth more than I thought if they're willing to listen to fourteen-year-old boy talk of his friends. Evidently that's how she already knew my nickname. And I'm glad she still remembers me. Evidently Finnick spoke highly of me.
"Now, why don't you come inside?"
We head into a large, open-plan room, with the glass wall on the outside that exposes the rainbow-coloured Capitol outside. We sit down at some plush sofas, facing each other from across a mahogany coffee table.
"Firstly," she starts, evidently wanting to get straight on to business. "I'm sorry you've been chosen at the reaping. I hope you're coming to terms with what's going to happen."
She seems kind to me, and I feel glad I have Julia as well as Flavius and Finnick to help me. She continues to inform me on my situation, as everyone seems to want to tell me everything today. "Fortunately for us, there's a lot of sympathy for you in the Capitol, as you've been reaped twice. I'm going to make sure you take advantage of that and get you plenty of sponsors in the arena."
"How're you going to do that?" I ask, hoping Julia won't fit me in some odd fishermen's outfit like District 4 tributes have most years.
"Try and make it seem like you're above it all. As though you're not intimidated or scared by the idea of being a tribute. You're going to seem cold, calculating and ruthless. Show determination."
"But this isn't what I'm like, doesn't that matter?" I ask.
"Not to the Capitol citizens, it doesn't. They just want a good show. And you can give them it."
And I really will try to. I give them what they want, they give me the gifts I need in the arena. It's really a win-win situation.
Julia stands, up and beckons for me to follow her into a small, windowless room, which has a few chairs, a table and lots of beauty equipment and lotions stored in bottles on shelves covering the walls. The only light in the room is provided by a fluorescent tube that is attached to the ceiling and emits a white, flickering light. Three young women sit in chairs around a table, and all turn and smile at me as me and Julia enter.
"Cynthia, Lavinia, Felicity, meet Ludovic," says Julia enthusiastically. "Ludo, meet your new prep team."