The sun rises on training day three and I remain skewer-free. I've taken up a lot of knowledge so far, not enough to deem me an expert in anything, but I can pick up almost any type of weapon and use it as help rather than hindrance. Today I'm going to buckle down into the practical stations like food and water, then refresh on weapons before the private sessions.
I say hello to all of our guys and tell them we're going to meet for lunch again. Everyone agrees and heads their separate way for training. The gamemakers and all of the other tributes watch the members of our group now. Who knew that something as simple as whom you hung out with could skyrocket you to the top of the pyramid?
The safe plants station has been popular all week. Today, there's less people there than usual, I suspect most tributes are picking up some weapons skills for the private training sessions this afternoon. The private training is a new addition as of last year. Sponsors had no way of judging physical ability to help them choose who to fund, so the gamemakers added it in to the last day of training.
I want to get a good training score, but nothing too good. A number high enough to get me noticed without making me look like the toughest of my alliance.
I read about the solo training sessions in one of the Capitol magazines, really it's just a chance to show off. I haven't actually figured out what I'm going to do yet, but it's got to be something spectacular.
Feeling comfortable with what I've learned, I move around to other survival stations. When I pass by one of my old favourites, I realize what I'm going to do when I'm alone. The rest of the day I practice the things I'll need and make sure the stunt will actually work.
We all meet at the same table as yesterday to eat and sit more or less in the same arrangement. Ayler and Dai Lao were already talking about the individual training, so the rest of us just sit tight and listen to their plans for a bit.
Once they've done talking, Jason clears his throat. "Why isn't Trawl in the group?"
"He didn't want to be," I say.
Jason considers this for a bit. "He seemed pretty friendly to me when we were training together."
"You were practicing together? What station?" William asks.
"Spears and swords," Jason shrugs. "He broke this year's record for fastest time to take down the trainer in swords."
William and I exchange a millisecond of nervous energy. Preston glances at me from down the table.
Ayler joins in. "Now that we've got everybody together, I'm sure he'll change his mind if we asked him."
This is bad. I told Marie Lynn that the group was final as it currently is. I also asked her to target Trawl, but that's not my main worry. If I change up the plan without her knowing, she might get psyched out and do something rash; my life could be on the line. Somehow I have to diffuse the motion of including Trawl without looking suspicious.
"He keeps looking at us," Jason whispers.
Reluctantly, we all take cautious glances. Sure enough, Trawl's eye dances around our group more than a museum exhibit.
"I'll go get him," Dai Lao offers.
"I don't know guys," I edge in.
Jason looks towards William and I. "I say majority decides. I'm all for it."
Ayler nods. "Same."
"He's too big a threat to not have on our side," Dai Lao says.
Relief floods over me, we're a group of six; there is no majority.
A fourth voice pipes up. "I'm in."
My head whips to face where the voice came from, William. No.
Before I can stop myself, I glare at him, giving him a look that demands explanation.
"If he's not with us, he's gonna come after us. We're the biggest threats," he shrugs, looking guilty.
Dai Lao gets up to leave. I could stop him, sure, but that would be incredibly dangerous. My whole safety as a leader depends on me not becoming too controlling. I can't argue against the majority now that my safety net of William has voted against me.
Painfully, I watch Dai Lao go and get the boy from Three. Whatever he says to him, it works. Trawl returns, tray in hand and melts into the group.
Trawl tells us about his life, how his dad is a weapons instructor and taught him how to fight in case he ever got Reaped. Everyone takes turns explaining our rules and Trawl agrees eagerly. The entire time all I can picture is Marie Lynn carrying my head on a stake.
William notices my discomfort. "He can't come after us now," he whispers.
I nod, wishing that was the problem. Marie Lynn's on the other side of the room, not looking at me. I can understand that she wants to keep us as conspicuous as possible, so naturally she wouldn't look at me. A small part of me wishes that she would though, so that I could somehow communicate my disagreement with the group's decision.
In a quick calculation I decide its best to keep true to our silence rather than try to talk to her about Trawl later. If something doesn't work out, failing an attempt to talk to her might make things even worse than they just became.
The best I can hope is that she somehow understands that I didn't add Trawl to the group on purpose and still goes after him at the bloodbath. Now that he's in my alliance, I definitely can't kill him, but I still don't trust the guy for anything he's worth.
The Training Center is lonely when you're the only one in there. My footsteps echo, the only other sound is the monitors and soundtracks of various stations and the quiet chatter of the gamemakers above. I know I've only got fifteen minutes, so I introduce myself and head straight for the fire making station.
The only trainers in the center now are sparring partners, so there's no one to help me get the fire started. Thankfully, it looks like all of the supplies are fully stocked, so I quickly pick out some fast-burning Cedar and get my fire going.
It doesn't have to be big, but it has to be hot. Once I have quite a good flame, I grab some hardwood and delicately toss it on my pile.
It was an impressively quick fire, but definitely not enough to get me anywhere near the score I want. I'm not finished yet though and I've still got five minutes left.
I run across the room to my second station of interest, grab what I need and run back to my fire. As soon as I get there, I thrust what I collected, the thinnest sword from the rack, directly into the base of my fire.
I can hear some of the gamemakers laughing. I laugh a bit too when I realize how idiotic this must look to them; the brilliant tribute from District Four, the boy who stabbed the fire.
After forty-five seconds I pull out the sword, instantly stopping any laughing gamemakers. Three minutes, forty-five seconds left.
Just according to plan, my sword is red hot and glowing, an impressive piece of weaponry.
Without losing a second, I sprint back over to the sword station and ask the sparring partner to fight me. He looks happy to, clearly impressed by my glowing sword.
I fight exactly like I learned, blocking his blows and occasionally striking when there's a chance. Of course, I never actually hit him, he's too fast for that, but I take pride in the fact that I stop almost every single one of his swings.
The only problem is that every time his sword meets the glowing part of mine, mine bends a little. It's not enough to be noticeable for the gamemakers, but it throws me off whenever it happens.
I wonder how much the gamemakers even know about sword fighting and decide that they can't know too much. With that, I start to get more dramatic with my fighting, adding in some sound effects and even spinning once or twice.
I can see the laughter in the sparring partner's eyes, but I just keep grunting on, trying to ignore my quickly cooling, misshapen blade.
The timer goes off, my session is over. I can easily say that was the fastest fifteen minutes of my life. A few of the gamemakers clap, but most of them just turn to their tablets.
"A fair fight for an apprentice," the sparring partner says, taking my sword from me. I notice that he doesn't put it back on the rack; it's too out of shape to be used again.
He smiles at me. "But maybe next time, we leave the sword shaping to the blacksmiths."
I can't really tell if it's a joke or an insult, but it doesn't matter so long as the gamemakers were impressed.
To my surprise, the scoring at the sword station is still active for individual training. The machine whirrs for a moment before giving me a score of 5.4 out of ten. It also displays my record overall in training, 6.1. I guess the bending metal of my sword threw me off more than I thought. It will be interesting to see how this plays in to my session score.
To my shock, the other lists of scores have changed since the last time I was here, too. As of a few hours ago, the highest sword sparring score any of our year's tributes is an 8.2 from Trawl. I shudder, Trawl just won't stop haunting me. Jason is in second place with 6.7. Below that is my old score. I'm ranked third overall with my score from yesterday, but my performance just now wasn't enough to even get me on the table.
Trawl's name also adorns the overall high score table, coming in third place. That means that out of all of the tributes to have ever been in the Hunger Games, he is the third-best sword fighter. It sends chills down my spine.
The head gamemaker speaks into his microphone. "Thank you tribute, you may now leave."
Dredd sits with Kristen and I on the couch, waiting for our training scores to be broadcast.
"How do you think you did, Everett?" he asks.
"I figure I'll be in the double digits."
He lurches forward. "What did you do in there?"
I explain it to him while Kristen listens. He nods a couple of times, but overall his expression stays very mild.
He asks Kristen what she did. She says she just did some of the survival stations that she was good at. Dredd cheerfully tells her that that was a good plan.
He addresses both of us again. "You won't get twelves. It sounds harsh, but I'm just being realistic. The gamemakers score a lot more reasonably than you'd think. Remember that the scores represent how high of a chance you have of winning. Getting a really high score like a ten, eleven, or twelve means there's almost no question you can hold your own."
He's probably just trying to make Kristen feel better. I don't like to lowball my standards, I'd rather know what's coming and not have to prepare for the worst case.
The TV turns on automatically when the broadcast begins. The announcers explain the purpose of the training scores to the people watching, and then get straight into the numbers.
Preston pulls an eight, that's good; he should fit well into the group. Ayler gets a seven, which is a lot lower than I had expected for him. However, he's only fifteen, the youngest of the alliance.
"Preston and Ayler both got very respectable scores, they'll be people to watch out for," Dredd explains like we're a bunch of idiots. He doesn't know about my alliance with them and he certainly doesn't know that the biggest scores are yet to come.
Trawl's District partner is next, my blood starts pumping when I realize that his score is about to come. The announcer scoffs in amazement, Trawl got a ten.
That's it?! I was expecting a twelve for him, eleven at least, especially after what Dredd said. Remembering the sword station scores, my face pales. Trawl is the best sword fighter of our year, maybe I was a little off in my expectations.
But who knows, maybe the diversity I showed with my session will push my score up the table.
Jason scores a nine and I start to panic. This can't be real; they both can't have scored that low.
Tsoma, the girl from the opposing alliance, gets a six. At least that's a good sign; people will sponsor our alliance over theirs.
Dredd puts his arm around Kristen right before her name comes up. The announcer nods with respect, Kristen scores a five.
"That's fantastic, Kristen!" Dredd cheers. Kristen smiles for probably the first time since we got to the Capitol. I smile at her, it's something nice I can do before I permanently scar my conscience. Also, it helps cut my nerves for what's coming.
It's like the announcers are speaking in slow motion. Is it just me or did the volume of the broadcast suddenly go down?
"Everett, the male tribute from District Six has scored a very reputable seven."
"Nice job Everett!" Dredd claps me on the back. Kristen smiles at me, but I do anything but smile back.
Next thing I know, I'm standing and walking angrily behind the couch. A seven is ridiculous; no one's going to want to sponsor me. In no way does a seven reflect how well I know this game, I could run circles around any tribute who deserves a seven.
I can't take Dredd's cheerful banter, so I stomp out of the room to my bedroom. Unfortunately, the TV in there is on too, filling the requirement that every person in Panem watch the training scores.
I've missed the scores from District Seven, they weren't important anyways.
A little bit of satisfaction comes when Dai Lao scores a six. At least, at least, I won't have the lowest score of the team.
Marie Lynn is next. Oh God Marie Lynn is next. What is she thinking about my mediocre seven? She pulls a nine, an amazing score for a girl. In fact, it's higher than any girl got last year. Jarratt follows closely with an eight.
William's the last score I care about. He gets an eight too. Trawl not included, that means half of our team got sevens or lower and half got eights or higher. My score isn't as bad as it seemed at first when you factor in the comparison to my allies. I still don't consider Trawl an ally, since there's a fair chance he's going down in the bloodbath.
Dredd knocks on my door and tries to get me to come out. I throw the TV remote in the direction of his knocking, making the batteries pop out and roll across the floor.
I'm too angry to talk right now, angry that Dredd knew the games better than I did and ultimately that I was wrong. Even if a seven still puts me in the top ten, I verbally announced that I thought I'd do better. I can't stand that they know I was wrong. I know I'm being a coward, I want to take it like a man, but for the first time since I've gotten here, I'm afraid I might die.
I tried to make the training scores clear, but here's a recap in case you missed them:
(D1) Preston- 8
(D2) Ayler- 7
(D3) Trawl- 10
(D4) Jason- 9
(D5) Tsoma- 6 (leader of opposing alliance)
(D6) Everett- 7
(D6) Kristen- 5
(D8) Dai Lao- 6
(D9) Marie Lynn- 9
(D9) Jarratt- 8
(D10) William- 8
These are just the scores of anyone who's been a fairly big part of the story so far, I didn't want to write twenty four scores and totally confuse everyone.
If you like how the story's going, I'd really appreciate a follow :D