This chapter is dedicated to Wendy and Amber.

Wendy: THE WOMAN JUST BOUGHT ME A PS2! O_O Yes, I'm aware ps3s are better. But with a PS2 I can play FF VII, VIII, IX, and X 3 Plz, peeps. I still play on a Nintendo 64. PS2 is like AWESOME to me :D

Amber: I missed ya hun ^^ It was great to see you. And I hope you're enjoying the story so far. (She read the earlier, crappier drafts off this way back when I first wrote em)

Sorry this took so long to get up. I've finished school now so I have more time for writing.

The plan is to lure a hunter, like Jules, here with a campfire. Garret will wait beside it pretending to be asleep—at least he is supposed to pretend, I know he falls asleep a few times—while I wait in a tree to watch and ambush. No one falls for it, though, and by dawn I'm really tired and ticked off. Thanks to his naps last night, he's more energized than I am and I make Garret stand guard while I catch a few Zs in a tree.

When I wake up the sky is bright and I figure it must be mid-afternoon. Below me, Garrett is cooking some meat. I slide down from the tree and when I land he gasps and throws a fork at me. I catch it with ease. We stare at each other for a second, then a grin breaks over his face.

"Morning, Sunshine." He teases and I scowl.

"Hey, relax. I'm just kidding, honestly."

I still continue to scowl. "Did anything happen?"

"I'm sure a cannon would've woken you up."

"Point," I surrender and decide to be friendly because I'm going to be stuck with this boy for a while and I need him ready to cooperate at all times. My life depends on this boy.

I hate him for it.

"So, what's on today's agenda?" he asks me. He has already surrendered the leadership position, whether he's realized it or not.

"Well, for one, we need to travel. The others are on the move and staying in one place for too long could be fatal. So pack up the stuff and let's get going."

"Aye, aye, Captain." I raise my eyebrows and he smiles nervously. "Never mind."

We eat the canned beef he cooked then load up the stuff and head to the river. We stop to wash the cooking utensils off then we set out, keeping several yards away from the river at all times. We wonder aimlessly for three days, talking casually or not talking at all, me teaching him what I can about the world around us, practicing sparring, sleeping, eating, running.

I learn more about him than I did in the interviews. He's the younger of two kids, his older sister works in a shirt factory with his mother, and his father was one of the lucky few who worked at the station where they handled and sorted the few imported goods. It paid decent money, Garret's one reassurance that his family will be all right once he's gone. He talks about Julie a bit.

I have plenty of time to study him better. He's well built from years of working the big machines and has good reflexes. He also has blonde tints in his brown hair that become more and more apparent as the hours go by. His eyes seem more emerald now that I can see him up close. He is, ok I'll admit it, handsome. Not that I'm interested.

Garret, if anything, is a fast learner. He actually manages to cut me during a small skirmish. I'm ready to praise him for achieving a nearly impossible feat for someone at his level, but then he starts blabbering out apologizes and tends to my wound. I allow him to treat it, though, because he seems to know what he's doing, but I'm positively fuming the whole time. I do decide to cut the soft boy some slack, though. Maybe he wouldn't treat an opponent like that. Maybe it's because I'm his ally. Or maybe it's because I'm a girl. He does seem to have a soft spot for girls.

No cannons sound, however. I'm getting worried. While our little training sessions must be entertaining to some, we're not dishing out any serious fighting or blood. There's been plenty of time for everyone to place bets, sign sponsor deals, and get bored. Either we find someone soon or the Gamemakers will force some action. I don't dare warn Garret in case they get any ideas. He's no idiot, though. He's watched the Games all his life. He knows how it goes. I have to keep reminding myself of that.

"I think we need to step up our game," Garret jokes during the afternoon of the sixth day.

I roll my eyes. "Pun not appreciated."

"No, really, we need to…I guess…we need to really hunt. …Hunt tributes, I mean."

My eyebrows go up so high I'm sure they vanish into my hair. I catch myself quickly and look away, pretending to be bored. "Why?"

"You know why," He says grimly. Yes, I know. But can he do it?

"If we fight a pair of tributes you'll have to fight them, too," I remind him.

"I know."

Garret's right, though. We find a weeping willow tree near a small pond and I climb up as high as I can to secure our packs and the few weapons we're leaving behind. It's risky, but it's easier to go into battle without baggage. The willow provides an easy cover for our supplies and an easy landmark for us to identify.

I've gotten Garret to a somewhat acceptable level with a bow so he carries a bow and quiver as well as his sword. I don't honestly expect him to use the archery equipment, but it's useful as he'll have it there in case I need it. I keep most of the knives concealed in my jacket, pockets, and boots and the trident fastened to my back with a net.

We walk along, munching on our little feast of bread and jerky, sipping small amounts of water every so often. Once our food is gone I tuck my water bottle into my belt. Then the real tracking begins. Garret stays behind me, his excellent ears listening for the sounds of other tributes. Years of working and living around loud machines have given him incredible hearing in the silence. I'll never admit it to anyone, but I think it's better than mine.

"Hey, listen!" he hisses just as my ears register the sound of metal clanging in the distance.

I narrow my eyes and stare into the general direction of the noise. "Let's check it out. It might be a fight," I decide after a moment and we creep towards the clanging sounds.

We're in a very wet part of the arena so I have to help Garret leap across the tree roots sticking out of the ground. I know better than to go into still water where the bottom can't be seen. Going in there is just asking for something to eat you.

It is a fight. We keep low to the ground as we creep towards the clashing tributes. My eyes widen when I see the boys in the conflict. Jules and Arno are going at it like these two pirates on a television show they play in our district. Sterra from 9 is fighting Hara from 12 nearby. Both pairs seem very evenly matched. I motion for Garret to get behind a tree about thirty yards from the fight and we watch, concealed behind the foliage.

Hara is tiring quickly and I can see the unadulterated fear on her face from all the way over here. She thinks that her life is about to end. But then Jules lashes out at Sterra, who stumbles away, which gives Hara the chance to leap forward and ram a knife into Sterra's heart. The dark haired girl screams in agony and sinks to the ground, yanking the knife out of her chest. She gasps down air, staring up at Hara for her last few moments, then whimpers out Barlee's name and goes still.

Sterra's cannon fires.

Arno stops fighting and goes rigid, his head jerking back. His body shakes and an agonized scream bursts from his throat. He sinks to the ground, screaming and thrashing in agony. Jules just stands there for a moment, not even looking at his ally who has collapsed beside the body of the tribute she killed; instead his eyes are fixed on our former ally, enjoying his internal torture.

Without warning, he kneels down beside Arno and grasps his right arm. Shockingly, Arno stops lashing around and just lies there, gasping and panting. For a second, I'm confused. I look down at my right arm, then up at Arno's arm. Oh. Of course. That chip they put in our right arms. It has something to do with this.

Jules smiles. "Let's have a little chat, eh Arno?"

Arno snarls out a series of words even I don't dare repeat.

"Hey, now, blame the Gamemakers, not me."

"What do you want?" Arno growls. Weaponless, still weak from whatever pain he'd been in, Arno isn't really in any condition to demand anything, but Jules seems happier.

"I want to kill you." Jules says.

"Then just get it over with already."

"Oh no. I want the audience to remember this." Jules says. "I wanted to kill you first, but there were two perfect opportunities to eliminate others that I had to move you to third."

Arno actually looks as confused as I feel. Jules has killed two tributes? Unless Proy or Ellery was his second kill, I could only think of one tribute dying by his hand.

"Leona," Jules explains patiently and a wicked smirk appears on his face. "Her back was to me...she was just too easy."

Arno looks beyond rage. I realize I, too, am gripping the hilt of a long knife in my belt. That dirty coward. Jules will die here and now. I look over at Garret and his eyes widen when he sees my expression. "Jules is mine." I mouth.

He nods, understanding.

"—such a waste, too." Jules is saying. "Your district is losing its touch. I was hoping for a half decent fight. Roll over or I'll kick you over. You don't get to die on your back."

Arno lets out a bellow of rage and tries to launch himself at Jules. His legs give out and he goes back down. Ignoring his own words, Jules drives the sword straight into Arno's chest. The boy from District 2 doesn't even grimace. He just stares up at Jules with undying hatred as his chest stills forever and he dies.

The cannon sounds. Jules laughs. Hara starts to cry, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Stop crying, idiot." Jules snaps.

Hara looks up at him and blurts out, "I murdered her!"

"Yes, and you did an excellent job of it, by the way." he congratulates her. "Now check the packs for supplies." Hara obeys, crawling over to the backpacks Arno and Sterra had abandoned during the fight. I wait until Jules, cocky as ever, kneels down to carve his signature X marks into Arno.

I look over at Garret and motion him forward. I don't wait to see if he obeys and I emerge from my hiding place and creep forward. Every viewer must be holding their breath, waiting, except for in District 1 and District 12 where they probably scream for Jules or Hara to turn around and see death coming for them in the form of a seriously ticked off redhead and her ally.

I grip the knife and take aim.

A silver parachute descends from the sky and makes a quiet thump on the ground.

Jules and Hara spin around, see me standing there, knife at the ready. Jules spews out a curse word at the same time Hara screams. Garret rushes past me to get at the District 12 girl, blade raised.

I throw the knife and Jules ducks just in time. He barrel rolls to his feet, grabbing his sword on the way. I whip out two long daggers and stop the blade before it can cut my head off. We're both grunting with exertion and I feel my face heating up. I take a deep breath and jump back. It takes him half a second to recover and he looks furious. He swings and I dodge, skittering away. I tuck the daggers into my pocket and yank the trident off my back.

We're pretty evenly matched, now. My mind empties except for all thoughts of battle, one of the perks of training merging with a major adrenaline rush. I get close enough to rake my nails across his face, leaving angry read marks across the flesh. He snarls and swings. The butt of my trident blocks what could most defiantly sever major arteries, but I have no chance to stop a fierce kick to my lower calf.

I gasp.

I lose balance immediately and fall back to the ground, resisting the urge to grab at my leg. I see curiosity flicker on his face at my sudden weakness but he doesn't pause to ask what's wrong. Biting back whimpers of pain, I try to stand and raise the trident up to defend myself. Jules raises his sword to deliver a blow or knock my weapon away. I'll never know which because he never gets the chance.

Before I can brace myself, Garret's there, screaming wordless rage, ramming into Jules. He knocks the sword away from Jules and just starts punching him. I turn to look for Hara. The District 12 tribute lies not too far from me, not quite dead, but nearly so. Her agonized blue eyes meet mine for a moment then the light fades from them and her cannon sounds.

I turn to look when I hear Jules agonized screams. My lips curve up into a wicked smile. Garret backs away and motions for me to proceed. From what I can see, my ally's only injury is a cut to the cheek and a bruise forming around his eye. I shakily make my way over and kneel beside Jules, pulling out a nice knife to finish the job with.

"Guess what, Jules?" I hiss as I grab his arm where the chip is. He stills and his eyes open to look at me. "You were number one on my kill list. This is for Rilee and Leona."

"Who's—" I slit his throat before I can finish the sentence and I leave him to drown in his own blood.

I wait until the cannon sounds before I move away. Rot in the Locker, Jules.

"Are you ok?" Garret asks me.

"Check their packs for food," I order, purposely avoiding his question, "And any medical supplies or other useful stuff. Give me all the weapons you find, too."

Garret cocks his head to one side in confusion but does what I've asked, giving me a few minutes to sit down and asses the damage to my leg.

There's no blood, thank Poseidon, but that kick really messed with one of my old wounds. Probably the one Nita inflicted. Yet another reason to hate that wench. .

A silver glint catches my eye. Oh, the parachute. I hold it up for better examination and find a slender knife. My rational side says to take the knife because it could be of use later, but the knowledge that this weapon could've been intended for Jules (and served as a warning to them) makes the idea of using it for my survival very repelling. Even now I can barely stand to hold it, as if it will turn into a viper and strike me. I fling it at Jules and it imbeds in his side.

The sound makes Garret turn, wildly searching for an enemy, but I just shake my head. After two more minutes, Garret has strapped the packs onto the bodies so the useless supplies will be taken with them and I've sunk each and every one of the weapons we found into Jules body so they will be removed from the arena as well. I leave Hara's unharmed.

Garret slips off his jacket and uses it as a bag to carry the few bits of food he found plus a bottle of water purifier.

"Come on, Dylan." He hands the gold trident out to me. "Let's scat so they can get the bodies."

I purse my lips together and try to stand again. I manage to get to my feet but I can't keep the grimaces of pain off my face as my leg throbs uncontrollably. I take a few steps, using the trident to support me, then I stumble and catch myself against a tree.

"Dylan? What's wrong?"

I grit my teeth, hating the worry in his voice. "I'll explain later. Come on, let's go."

With his help, I manage to keep upright and moving, but we're going so slow that even the clumsiest tributes would be able to catch us. It's sunset when we make it back to the willow tree and I collapse once we're under the foliage.

I'm too exhausted to climb up to our supplies and Garret doesn't dare venture up more than a few feet so we share a meal made of the food we got from the others and slurp the newly-purified water.

"So, what's up with your leg?" he asks bluntly.

I sigh and give him a slightly altered version of how my leg got messed up. "Nita and I were just sparring, you know, some friendly competition on the deck while we waited to get to the fishing location, and she got my leg and arm pretty badly. She didn't mean to, but the damage was bad in my leg. I thought it healed months ago but…I guess it's a bit temperamental, still. Jules just got lucky with his kick, that's all. I should be fine soon." I try to reassure him quickly. "Just need to rest a bit and maybe do some stretches or massages. The doctors told me what to do when it acts up."

I'll bet my mentors are groaning at my blunt admittance of weakness and I'm wanting to slap myself about it, but I really need Garret to know what he might need to look out for.

The Capitol anthem begins to play and we crawl out to watch the show. Jules' face, arrogant as ever, illuminates the sky for a moment, then he's replaced by Arno, then Sterra, and finally Hara. The others must be throwing parties now that three of us Careers/Bloodhounds are dead. I smile, too. Four tributes dead in one day should keep the Capitol happy for a while. And give the rest of us time to collect ourselves. Hopefully.

"So…you say a massage will help your leg?" Garret asks after a few silent minutes. "I know a good one that—"

"Keep your hands to yourself." I practically snarl and said hands go up in the 'whoa there' position I'm getting used to from him.

"I wasn't going to do anything." He tells me quickly. "I just wanted to tell you about one some of the workers use."

I narrow my eyes suspiciously but nod. As long as he keeps his hands to himself I'm perfectly fine with it. He explains the procedure, using hand motions to demonstrate. In his district the workers sometimes need one of these after a long day of lifting things, working machines, and standing up. I'll bet people pay or trade for one of these.

"Give it a go," he offers.

"Alright."

"Ok, I'll keep watch. You try and…fix your leg."

"Yeah, you do that."

Fifteen minutes later, my leg is feeling calm enough for me to stand and I limp around a bit.

"Hey, Dylan!" he exclaims quietly and pushes through the leafy canopy. "Look!"

Garret holds out a silver parachute. I examine the small bottle and unscrew the lid to find three white pills inside.

"Well, it's defiantly not meant for me." Garret decides.

I nod and swallow one of the pills. The pain begins to recede almost instantly. I smile in disbelief.

"Better keep those other pills handy." He advises. "Just in case."

I tuck the container in my pocket.

"I'll stand watch," I tell Garret. "You get some rest."

"Uh...you sure?"

I nod. I want to show the Gamemakers and the sponsors that I'm not weak. Garret looks unsure for a minute then walks to the tree without protest. I sit up most of the night, armed with the bow and arrow, waiting. Nothing happens, as I assumed earlier, but I don't mind. It's very relaxing...

"Dylan."

My eyes snap open. Sunlight filters through the leaves and the air has warmed. Where am I? This isn't my room! Outside? The arena! A boy hovers over me. I launch myself up with a battle cry and tackle him. I raise the knife that will pierce his skull.

"Gwah! Dylan! Stop! It's me!"

I blink rapidly and the face registers. Oops. "Sorry." I say and climb off my ally. "You startled me. ...Oh crabs. I fell asleep?"

"It's fine." Garret assures me.

The silence that follows is slightly awkward so I clear my throat. "So, do you want to remain here or travel?"he asks.

"We might as well stay here." I say. "This is a reasonable fort, plenty of water and shelter, but we probably should do something productive today."

"Hunting?" he suggests. "We might run out of food soon."

"Yes, but I'll have to teach you to hunt. If we were to go out now we'd be lucky to snare a vole."

"So…hunting lessons then?"

"No, even better."

"What?"

"Was the other day your first time swimming, Garret?"

"Yeah…"

Thirty minutes later I'm knee-deep in the water wearing only my undergarments and he's standing on the bank, fully clothed, stubborn as a crab. I'm starting to lose patience and he's bound and determined to come up with some valid excuse to not enter the water.

"Dylan, this is a bad idea. You don't know what's in there!"

"True, but I'm willing to bet every bit of food we have that whatever lurks in here isn't worse that the things I face daily back home. Sharks, eels, crabs, territorial fish, anemones, jelly fish, urchins—yes, a frog is so scary."

He blinks. "I don't know what those things are."

"Good. You'll sleep easier at night."

He shudders.

"Kidding, now get in here."

"No!" he stamps his foot like a child.

I sigh. He brought this on himself. I slosh through the water towards shore and push him over when I get close enough. "Hey—what?" I yank off his boots then he starts kicking before I can remove the socks.

I slap his foot. "Knock it off! You get your butt into the water or I'll hang you by your ankles till sunset and not feed you until dawn."

Garret opens his mouth to protest but then thinks better of it and closes his trap. I back away while he removes his shirt, pants and socks and places them with mine.

"Good, now come on." I wade back into the water and he reluctantly follows me until the water reaches his thighs then he refuses to go on.

I want him waist deep but this'll have to do. "Alright, first off, remember that the water doesn't have to be your enemy. It's powerful, but it can help you if you just let it. Don't underestimate it or it will kill you, but don't fear it so much that you stay rooted to the land like an oak."

"Easy for you to say."

"Garret, that's a lesson we teach little children." I say patiently. "Now, I'm realistic so I don't expect you to become anywhere close to my skills. The Gamemakers simply won't let the Games go on that long."

"In other words, I won't live long enough." he said dryly.

I smile, "Exactly."

Fifteen minutes later he's still barely able to keep afloat. I'm starting to wonder if he was born with rocks for bones. "No, no kick your legs a bit harder."

He does and sends a spray of water up but at least he manages to keep his head above water. "Keep your hands moving, though. Your legs should be the base of your power but use your hands to give you the extra push."

Slowly he progresses. Within an hour he is swimming from one bank to another with the basic dog paddle. I stand near the edge, switching between watching him and scanning the landscape, checking our supplies in the tree. Garret sends a burst of water at me. I blink at him.

"Every time you look at me you seem unimpressed." He seethes.

"Of course," I say. "I live around people who are one evolutionary phase away from developing gills. Compared to them, you're doing horribly."

He frowns. "Am I making any notable progress?"

"Are you still alive?"

"Yes."

"Then there's your answer." I push my hair behind my head. "Want a proper demonstration?"

His eyes widen a bit and he nods. I wait until he splashes onto the shore before I dive in like a dolphin. Kicking my legs, I cut through the water with ease, lifting my head for quick gasps of air when needed. When I stop I'm way downstream from Garret. I can't help but smile because for a few minutes, I forgot I was in the arena. I'm in my element again. Garret is gawking when I climb out of the water and I smile.

"Back to work." I instruct and he wades back in.

As I watch him, my smile falters. What's happening to me? I hated Pisces before the reaping but by the time we'd reached the Capitol we were smiling and laughing like we were kids again. And Garret—I wanted to kill him by the third morning and now I'm teaching him trade secrets, watching his back…and wishing he'd been born in District 4.

Yeah, I do wish he'd been born in District 4 :(

LOOK! Me and some friends did the Feast scene from The Hunger Games for my final project.

youtube . com/watch?v=YAkFS98tdZc (remove spaces)

:D I'm the redhead. Flower says I'm totally badass 'cuz I got shot with an arrow and I didn't even bleed! ...mostly cuz we had like...no budget for this x_x

And we have bloopers too!

/watch?v=qscb4YtGfpU

Review/fav/tell your friends!