Chariots, Part Two.
Parker Walden, 13 years, District Five Male.
There's only so long I can spend hiding behind the Nine's chariot.
Rooke and Laurel have been nice, probably nicer than they should've been, but eventually a Peacekeeper is just going to come over and toss me in my own chariot like I'm an oddly shaped basketball, and that's the last thing I need right now. Lying helplessly at Isi's feet while she stands there all high and mighty is not my ideal Wednesday afternoon.
I still have to go over there, though. To avoid her or to not avoid her.
"See you later!" Laurel calls after me as I dart forward, attempting to hide behind the Eights. I grimace at the volume of her voice. The Eight girl turns around and gives me a look, quickly nudging her partner.
Rooke and Laurel are getting along great, and these two seem fine. Why did I get stuck with the awful one?
"Don't mind me," I mutter. It's just getting around the Sevens that's the issue. Why did I not go hide behind the Threes, or something? It would've been a lot easier to get back that way, and right now I'd rather spend time with the Careers than over here.
I almost make it. Almost isn't good enough.
I'm almost around the far edge of their chariot, and even though the One guy notices instantly and stares at me the entire time, he doesn't say anything. I edge around one of the horses and someone's hand locks around the collar of my shirt, dragging me backwards. Not forceful enough to be the Seven guy then, and judging by the spindly, tapered fingers brushing against the back of my neck it's gotta be Isi.
I almost wish it was the Seven guy.
"What's up partner?" Isi asks, almost directly into my ear, and I scowl. Why me.
"Ceremony's starting soon," I inform her. I don't know if that's the truth. I hope it is. Maybe she'll see sense and realize we have to go back to our own chariot instead of forcing me to stand here with everyone else.
"Don't worry, I'm watching the time. Thought you might want to say hello."
I most definitely do not want to say hello. The only mercy of the whole thing is that the One guy doesn't really seem inclined to start anything and the Seven girl isn't looking at me at all, probably not to make it worse. That leaves only the Seven guy, who holds out his hand to me like that's a completely normal thing to do. What is his name even? Carter? Colin?
"Do you know how many Seven guys have died since the Hunger Games became a thing?" I ask him, instead of taking his hand. He blinks at me.
"What?"
"Didn't think so. A hundred and fifty-two. Seven male victors total, six females. Are you going to make it a hundred and fifty-three this year?"
I don't know who looks more incredulous; Isi, who looks close to hitting me right through the floor, or the two still sitting on the edge of the chariot behind me. I reckon they almost look like they want to laugh, though. To his credit it doesn't take Camden as long to get it as I thought it would. I watch the anger form on his face first-hand, and it's not a pretty thing.
"Bye," I chirp. The Seven girl swings her legs out of the way, confined as they are, as I go darting past her. No one else grabs me, so it would appear that I'm safe. That or Camden has not in fact completely wrapped his brain around what I said.
In the long run, that probably wasn't smart at all. If they've already got four of them at the chariots then more are sure to follow, and the last thing I need is an alliance that big devoting all their attention to little old me. Regardless, it doesn't worry me. You don't just need brute force to kill someone, you need brains too, and I think they maybe have two and a half between the four of them.
By the time I pull myself into our chariot, accidentally knocking one of the wire coils off of my shoulder, Isi is storming up. I square my shoulders and stare straight ahead, even as she climbs up next to me, staring at the wire coil on the ground as she does so.
I can feel the fury radiating off of her.
"You're a fucking idiot," she says flatly.
"Says you," I mutter under my breath. I can feel her glaring at me, but it's the truth. How stupid do you have to be, to get yourself into a mess like that?
"You won't be saying that when he winds up killing you. I'm not going to stop him."
"He's got to have more than rocks in his brain to accomplish that. He's also going to have to catch me first."
If Isi ever looks something other than unimpressed and pissed off when she talks to me, I'll probably fall over. She still looks it even as the doors open, even as the cheering crowd finally comes into view. Though I guess that's her angle, and I know mine.
No matter how many people would call me foolish for it, I know it wasn't. If I spend my entire time here cowering from them and running away from them nothing good will come of it. Eventually someone else will step up too. The Nines have seen me stand up to them now, the Eights too. Even if I started off the day hiding, I can't do that forever.
I wouldn't want to, either.
Anya Preising, 15 years, District Two Female.
I'm supposed to be watching out for Blair.
I can understand why Seren wants me to, in the very least. I wouldn't put it past Blair to start a fist-fight with a wall because he was bored. Apparently not getting Blair to help me down out of the chariot, though, was a mistake. By the time I hit the ground he's already been standing there for a solid thirty seconds, and that's apparently enough for Camden to make his move.
That's why I made sure to remember everyone - how they acted, what they looked like. That's what Cicely said to do, everything down to the smallest detail. Makes it easier to tear them down that way, later on.
When I make it to Blair's side Camden doesn't even spare me a glance. The longer I stand there the more I expect him to say something to me, to even look down at me for a second. Nothing.
I cough under my breath and that's it, apparently. Blair looks no short of amused, no surprise there, as Camden's eyes flicker to mine.
"Can I help you?" Camden asks.
"I was just wondering what you guys were talking about."
"Nothing that concerns you."
I stare at him. If it was anyone else, I would've thought I'd misheard them.
"Oh, wrong move dude," Blair says, laughing. "Dear old Seven here was just wondering if I wanted to join his mini army. Though apparently that offer doesn't extend to you."
I'm not under the impression that me and Blair are tight, that we're anything like allies. But it appears he's standing with me on this issue, which is mildly touching. Besides Tavian, I think we all are. Dimara and Celia are still sitting on the edge of One's chariot, watching. Rodrik is trying and failing to be discreet about staring at us. Not one of them looks eager to step up and be the one to join.
"Just waiting on an answer," Camden says. I have a feeling he's said it already, before I got down here.
"Why the fuck would I want to join your alliance?" Blair asks flatly. "That's a disaster waiting to happen, unfortunately for Tavian. Have fun brainwashing him though."
I should've just went the opposite way, towards the others. Let Blair and Camden go at it themselves without me getting involved and putting an even bigger target on my back. Now that the two of them have opened their mouth though, I can't. I need to distinguish myself as someone here, and running in the opposite direction away from any signs of conflict isn't going to do that.
"Why do you even want the Careers, anyway?" I ask him. "To use as battle fodder down the line? I'm sure Tavian would appreciate knowing that."
"Tavian joined of his own free will. Came to us because he knows you lot are getting more and more disastrous by the year. You're fifteen years old. And from District Two, of all places?" He looks to Blair, now, eyebrows raised. "And what about you? You weren't the chosen volunteer. Are they just running out of kids to kill?"
It's everything I've been thinking in someone else's voice. I've wondered this whole time if that's what everyone would think, that they would push me aside and write me off just because of my age. Tavian's already gone, Blair doesn't seem to care even if his face twists at Camden's words, Dimara and Celia have already been by each other's side since the beginning, and I have absolutely zero clue what Rodrik's thinking, right about now.
Is this the fate I'm left to? Being outcasted because of things completely out of my control right from the get go?
I can't let that happen.
"Someone's gonna put you six feet under sooner rather than later," I inform him. "I hope you're ready for it."
"Oh, well please, if it's going to be you let me know," Camden says. "I'll be ready for you."
If I could smack him right now without any repercussions, I would. To be fair I think Blair got to that point several minutes ago. Definitely got to it, with Camden pointing out that he isn't supposed to be here. I can't afford to be that rash right now but the option is looking more and more tempting by the second.
"I hope you realize the mistake the two of you are making right now," he continues. "I'm sure you will. Have fun on your own. I'm sure we'll have fun coming after you."
"I thought the offer didn't extend to me," I snap, and I feel myself snap, all through my body. Camden doesn't respond, just waves in farewell as he turns to go. Back to his alliance, or his next target. I wonder how many people will be on what side, by the end of today. The division's are going to be awful by the time we're in the Games, no doubt.
"Okay, I know I can be an asshole," Blair starts. "But even I'm not that bad."
I don't think anyone else here is, not even remotely close. That's the only comfort here. Even if Camden's alliance does get bigger there's no doubt he's going to piss more people off down the line. I think, eventually, even his own alliance will begin to see that. They're not stupid kids. Eventually they'll realize that the longer they stick around the more they risk themselves.
No one wants to be dragged down because of someone else's ego.
I know I wouldn't.
What I do know, without a doubt, is that Camden is going to have a hard time getting his way out of this one. My age doesn't matter, my experience. He's only going to fall harder for it, the higher he gets. That's one thing I've been taught since the beginning. You don't have to be eighteen to know it.
"Promise me something," I say. "Allies or not, make sure he dies."
Blair stares after him, all traces of amusement gone. "I can handle that."
Casper Tolson, 17 years, District Six Male.
"Stay over here."
"Why?" Farren asks. "What's going on?"
The last thing I need right now is Farren deciding she needs to try and place nice and separate the Seven and Two guys, of all people. It's kind of a blessing right now that we're surrounded by so many people that I can hardly see, because that means she definitely can't.
"Nothing," I respond finally. She doesn't believe me, no surprise there, but what she doesn't know right now won't hurt her. As long as she stays away from them.
"What's going on?" Someone appears behind me, asking the same question, and I sigh. The girl from Eight, who's even shorter than Farren is. She's trying to lean around me to see with little success.
"Nothing," I repeat, at the same time the Eight guy does. He's just behind her, probably has about the same view I do. Is this year just all of us trying to stop our District partners from prematurely going after someone? The Eight girl doesn't seem deterred, though; she scrambles up into our chariot to get a better view and scowls at the scene.
"You are not going over there," the Eight guys says flatly.
"Yeah, because I was totally interested in getting piledrived today, Vance."
Farren laughs, but is apparently interested enough to scramble up beside her, back into the chariot, to get her own look.
"That really isn't good. Shouldn't someone stop them from fighting?"
"Not unless someone starts throwing punches," Vance says, and hops up into the chariot behind them. "No point otherwise."
I would say some of the officials in the immediate area almost look excited at the prospect of someone fighting this early on. They're the only ones, then. Every single one of the tributes looks mildly concerned, even the other Careers. I guess their concern is more along the lines of them having to get involved rather than it actually being a bad thing, though.
Better them than us. The Four girl's already got a black eye from her sister - I don't want to be the next one.
"What's going on?" someone new asks, for the third time, and I sigh again. Before I can even respond the Eleven girl is also in our chariot, shoving her head in-between Farren and Vance trying to get a good look. Behind me, her partner sighs. Almost as loud as I did. It doesn't take long before he's joining her up there, even though he's a solid half a foot taller than me and probably doesn't even need to. At the rate we're going half the tributes are going to end up in our chariot.
"Is there even any point in saying nothing anymore?" I wonder, and Farren grins down at me.
"Nope."
"I just wanna see," the Eleven girl says.
"What you're going to do is break the damn thing," I point out. It would be kinda funny to see, if I'm being honest with myself.
The more I watch the five of them there, the more I realize that it really doesn't matter. I can try all I want to stop them, but it really doesn't matter. There's a decent crowd of people looking our way now too, probably wondering what the hell we're all doing.
"I'm gonna go over there," Eleven decides, and she's got one leg literally over the side of our chariot ready to hop down before her partner gets a hand on her and drags her back in.
"You are not."
"You're no fun!"
So that explains why he's up there, then. If I had to guess she probably has a habit of booking it and he has a habit of stopping her when she tries it. So we really are just spending our time trying to reign in our District partners. Should've seen that one coming.
A minute later and Seven is walking back across the room, towards his own chariot. The Twos both look spectacularly annoyed, but I've come to associate that with most Twos. They really never look very friendly, do they? Everyone up above me keeps staring like they're waiting for someone to resume the fight. I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for someone to move.
Nope.
"Alright, show's over," I announce. "Everyone quit it before you really do break it."
Farren hops out instantly, giving me a sheepish grin. The Eleven girl hops out and elbows me in the side.
"Just because you're dressed like a stop light doesn't mean you can tell me to stop!"
"Wow, that's funny," I deadpan, but she's already gone. Her partner sighs again, as many sighs as it's been minutes since they arrived over here.
"Sorry about her. I'm Zion, and that's—"
Whoever she is, she yells something back at him that I don't even make sense of. He turns to go, offering a weak wave over his shoulder at the four of us.
"Oeshe," he finishes. "Again, sorry. See you guys later."
It really does appear like he's her handler, though that's probably their mentor's fault. Someone's gotta watch her and he got stuck with the job. I'm kind of blessed that Farren doesn't put me through that. District Six it-girl extraordinaire and not only has she very firmly decided that we're allies, but she's literally refusing to leave my side. It's kinda nice, for once.
I still haven't figured out why. She's got a dozen other options, but I don't think she cares.
It makes me feel bad, knowing that she has better options and won't really consider them.
Maybe it's always been a we thing, though.
Maybe I just need to accept that.
Finally getting to the POVs I actually wanted to write is like watching an actual Christmas miracle come to life. And it's really not.
Thanks for all the reviews, I still read and appreciate and treasure each and every one of them.
Until next time.