Sixty seconds. That's how long we're required to stand on our metal circles before the sound of a gong releases us. Step off before the minute is up, and land mines blow your legs off. Sixty seconds to take in the ring of tributes all equidistant from the Cornucopia, a giant golden horn shaped like a cone with a curved tail, the mouth of which is at least twenty feet high, spilling over with the things that will give us life here in the arena. Food, containers of water, weapons, medicine, garments, fire starters. Strewn around the Cornucopia are other supplies, their value decreasing the farther they are from the horn. For instance, only a few steps from my feet lays a three- foot square of plastic. Certainly it could be of some use in a downpour. But there in the mouth, I can see a tent pack that would protect from almost any sort of weather. If I had the guts to go in and fight for it against the other twenty-three tributes. Which I have been instructed not to do.
We're on a flat, open stretch of ground. A plain of hard-packed dirt. Behind the tributes across from me, I can see nothing, indicating either a steep downward slope or even cliff. To my right lies a lake. To my left and back, spars piney woods. This is where Haymitch would want me to go. Immediately I hear his instructions in my head. "Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water."
But it's tempting, so tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don't get it, someone else will. That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, near a small bag is a slingshot. A strong one. It's meant for me. I know it is.
But then again, I saw Rue at the training station with the slingshot. She's good. If she tries to go for it, we could end up fighting, and staying there too long would make us easy targets for the Careers. But I still have confidence we will be allies, so maybe I could let her take it, and we could find each other later. But, then again, if I don't have a weapon, I could die before I even get the chance to see her again. But I could always follow her into the trees, assuming that's where she'll go.
I look around for her, Peeta is three tributes to my left, Thresh is six to my right, and Rue is seven or so to my left. Peeta has a look of determination in his eyes. I hope mine hold the same fire as his, because it's intimidating. Suddenly, the gong rings out, and my hearts beating so fast that I think I might pass out. As quick as I can, I dash forward, picking up a loaf of bread, and then set my targets on a purple backpack a little farther away.
As I run, I look around, the Careers look occupied with picking off other people, I don't see Peeta, Thresh is far enough away from me to not be worried about, and Rue is close enough for me to try to talk her into an alliance. But I decide to not do it so soon; during the bloodbath is not the right time to buddy up with someone, unless you're a Career. So I grab the backpack, and look for anything else within easy reach. A weapon. I see a bloody knife in the dirt, and grab it, and then I run to the trees, not looking back.
After at least thirty minutes of running, I stop next to a tall tree to rest, my heart beating at a rapid rate, my chest rising and falling much faster than it should, and me on the ground, panting. I've never had a real problem with running, but when it's life or death, you get a little panicked. I can still hear a bit of screaming, telling me I'm not extremely far from the bloodbath, but I need my rest, so I wait a few minutes, the knife gripped in my hand.
After a bit of time passes, and I feel good enough to move again, I climb to my feet, and then stop, wanting to know what's in the pack I grabbed. I zip it open and dump out its contents. A thin black sleeping bag that reflects body heat, probably with the same material as my jacket. A pack of crackers, a pack of dried beef strips, a bottle of iodine, a box of wooden matches, a small coil of wire, a pair of sunglasses, and a half-gallon plastic bottle with a cap for carrying water that's so dry it's actually making me thirsty. I remember what Haymitch said about finding water, and it suddenly becomes crucial.
Instead of moving, I look up at the tree I'm under, a willow, surrounded by clumps of other willows. I decide it to be a decent place to stay for a little while, so I put everything back in my pack and climb up as high as I dare. Not too far from the ground, but not too close to it either. I wait around to see if any tributes pass, being as silent as possible. Eventually, it gets a little dark, and I decide that I might need some rest, but am completely lost as to how to sleep in a tree.
Just as I'm about to pull of my sleeping bag, I hear the anthem that will tell me who's gone and who I may still have to fight. I crane my head to see the Capitol seal, and then, the show begins.
The first to appear is the girl from District 3. That means that the Career Tributes from 1 and 2 have all survived. No surprise there. Then the boy from 4. I didn't expect that one, usually all the Careers make it through the first day. The boy from District 5 . . . I guess the fox-faced girl made it. Both tributes from 6 and 7. The boy from 8. Both from 9. I've run through my fingers, only one more dead tribute to go. Is it Peeta, or Rue, or maybe Thresh? No, there's the girl from District 10. That's it. The Capitol seal is back with a final musical flourish. Then darkness and the sounds of the forest resume.
I sigh as I try to work out in my head who's left, taking away the eleven that I just saw on the screen. The Glimmer girl from 1, and her District partner, Marvel, I think. The pair from 2, and the boy from 3. The girl from 4. The fox-faced girl from 5. The girl from 8, the boy from 10. And then, Rue, Thresh, Peeta and me. Thirteen of us left.
I turn back to the work I was doing with my sleeping bag, I manage to arrange it in a comfortable fashion, and thankfully, I'm so small that it comes way over my head, in case I was ever seen. As I lay down, I use my belt to fasten me and the sleeping bag to the branch, just incase I move in my sleep, so that I don't fall. I tuck my backpack in with me because if I sleep through to the day purple will be more or less easy to spot. I close my eyes, trusting I'm concealed and that I will be safe. And then I hear it.
"Prim?"
It's a whisper, but I can hear it so clearly, that the caller must be close.
"Prim?"
It comes again, this time slightly louder. I know it can't be a Career, firstly because they wouldn't waste their time trying to find me, and second because the voice is young, pretty, and stained with innocence. It's Rue.