One shot. Two shots. Three shots. Ten shots. Electra gets all her arrows on the target within a minute.
"You're so good," I say, grinning. And despite the impending death match, I really do feel optimistic for my sister. I hadn't seen her in action until now.
She offers me a grimace. "Hey, I do the best I can. Didn't know I'd discover a hidden talent along the way."
"When you come back, you should totally go hunting."
"When?"
"Yes, when. Not if."
Thirteen's Battle is about to go down. It will occur in the place Electra fears most: Above ground. They'll be taken up one at a time, so they can conceal themselves. Finding each other is half the fun, apparently. But they can go no further than a thousand yards; as designated by markers that we installed. A fence would draw unwanted attention. When you step on the markers, they glow and vibrate. We'll be watching from below. I'm assigned to escort my sister.
From the wall speakers comes an automated voice: "Electra Coin and escort, please report aboveground."
"It's time." My sister breathes in deeply, closing her eyes.
"You'll be great," I assure her as we ascend to the 'arena'. The words are… more for my benefit than hers. I know she's afraid, but on the outside, she seems calm. Ready. I believe in her.
"There's no such thing as greatness in this," she mumbles.
I'm too afraid of ruining what could be my last moments with her; so I don't tell her how I really feel.
In the case of kill or be killed, I'd most definitely kill. Without question.
Our elevator stops deep inside a sewage tunnel. Above this tunnel, the only thing separating us from land is a cement staircase.
That stench. Ugh, what an awful, rancid smell. Electra and I, being of one mind, plug our noses in unison. There must be centuries of human waste down here. This stuff single-handedly contributed to the plague that took my brother and father. It kept seeping through our ceilings, dropping onto food… We've fixed the problem, but, as I know all too well, it wasn't without sacrifice.
Electra coughs violently for a good minute. She's been hacking up mucus frequently as of late; another plague symptom. Still, we ascend the stairs and break out, onto level land. Radiant beams of sunlight strike me square in the eyes.
"Dang, that's bright!" I exclaim, squinting. "How does everyone else in the world handle so much sun?"
My sister shrugs. "They just… do, I guess; and we can, too. It's in every human's biological construction. Let's not forget, we're probably among the only people on Earth who don't live up here."
True enough. Slowly, my eyes adjust; and I exhale deeply. Oh, sweet, fresh air. It's been too long. Now I can fully assess the ghostly, yet beautiful ruins of my district.
You might think the bombs destroyed everything; so there aren't any real hiding places. Wrong. I heard my grandfather refer to this place once-the place it used to be. New York City. A vast concrete jungle; where every so often, you'll find structures sturdy enough for shelter. Grandpa chose this as District 13's new home because of an underground train system they'd created back when the United States of America existed- I think he called it "the subway". And it was the largest subway America had ever built. A smart choice. It provided the perfect frame for construction workers. He told me it was difficult to begin with, knowing that they must avoid Capitol eyes. People made their homes in the subway for a few years, while their new lives took shape.
If I thought that was intricate… Imagine New York City! I daydream about it a lot, actually. Humans aren't supposed to live like moles. We crave adventure.
Which, of course, is why we're here.
Electra and I share a long, suffocating embrace.
"Hey," I say, "I know this probably doesn't mean much, and maybe it sounds dumb, but… May the odds be ever in your favor."
Suddenly, her body language changes. She's not slouching anymore. She has a new spring in her step; with a confident smirk to match. "Are you kidding, Alma? That means everything. Surviving against the odds? It's what we've always done, isn't it? We could've died; Grandpa Dex could've given up on reviving District 13, and we wouldn't ever have been born. But still, we fought. I fought. And I won't stop now. I love you."
"I love you, too, sis."
And so, reluctantly, I must leave her.
The commons area practically buzzes with nerves. I sit by Xavier, who- be still my heart- is letting me hold his hand. Everybody watches as Electra searches for her perfect hideout. Cameras are planted at several points along the rubble; and tributes must give the three-finger salute when they're ready.
She finds herself in what probably used to be a… what's the word? "Bar"? I hear people would come to drink themselves silly there; swap stories; whatnot. There's a tall counter, behind which are toppled, rotting shelves. Electra knocks the shelves away, but the counter holds. Brilliant. She crouches underneath. Then we see her raise three fingers. Sometime later, another camera captures Chloe's salute. Though neither of them know it, the tributes aren't even a block away from each other. Chloe holds a knife, her weapon of choice. Two other throwing knives are holstered in her belt.
Beep, beep, beep go the cameras. The final signal. Thirteen's Battle has commenced.
Chloe takes off, unknowingly, towards Electra. Electra doesn't move from her spot. She connects the arrow to her bow, and waits. Archery is about patience, and the small perimeter ensures that they'll meet soon, anyways.
It takes all of two minutes before my sister hears Chloe enter. She jumps out, releasing an arrow. Chloe dodges Electra's attack and prepares to throw her knife. Focused. Exhaling. Relaxing herself for better accuracy.
"Watch out, Electra," I mumble to the screen. "Duck. Anything."
She finally unleashes her blade on Electra… oh man, I wanna scream. But my fear switches to relief. Girl can't throw correctly. The knife pierces the right wall; nowhere near Electra, thank goodness. She throws again. And a third time. They still don't land where she was aiming for. Chloe runs to retrieve them, huffing with frustration.
With her back turned, she doesn't know that Electra has already shot another arrow. And it flies cleanly through Chloe's neck. I can tell the exact moment of her death, as her body falls into permanent numbness.
Battle over.