Chapter 13 - Brendan - Game On
Waking up the first day of training, all I could think was, A plan. I need a plan. Shaking sleep out of my head, I got dressed. There were uniforms used for training, but these ones looked just like last year's. Mine didn't fit quite right. Weird, we used to get these made new yearly, tailored for the participants... they must be last year's clothes, reused. I wondered what other poor sap had worn this outfit and couldn't keep myself from shuddering.
The morning was uneventful. Breakfast and preparations passed with both me and my roommate totally stuck in our heads, rummaging around for strategy and plans. Our mentor - rude woman - sent us out the door with a hearty clap on the back and a call of "Don't choke, idiots! Go to the damn survival stations, don't bother with the hand-to-hand combat! And for god's sake, don't impale yourselves on the weapon stations!" We groaned at the same time. Funny, sharing the same thoughts and feelings as someone you were admittedly going to stab in the back, even for a moment.
I was definitely one of the more confident-looking Tributes walking into the training floor. Not surprising - I knew exactly what I was in for, I had a plan, those kids had not a clue. If I had to be screwed, it was at least nice that there were many others more screwed than me. Appraising the competition was going to be step one, of course. Then, I could use some training with wilderness situations. I wasn't going to be getting into fights, not by choice. The head trainer gave a little speech while the Tributes ignored him and stared around at the stations, then we all dispersed in groups of two or three.
"How about we hit the fire making station together, Yann?" I didn't want to be the only kid going to a station alone. Get singled out as a loner, and I'd probably get targeted. Hell, I was a target anyways. They probably all saw the threat in a Gamemaker playing.
On the bright side, the trainer was thrilled to actually have someone come over. Apparently most District kids already knew how to make a fire with flint or a lighter, he explained. They generally heat their homes with coal or wood fires. After more than a few minor burns and scratches, Yann and I had both managed to make fire using flint. "I guess getting the flint will be the hard part," I said. The trainer nodded and wished me good luck.
A bell rang for lunch, and everyone dropped what they were doing. "Killing training dummies must work up a hunger," I mused out loud, walking over to the cafeteria.
A social situation. Shit, I hadn't even thought of this. A crowded room, voices bounching off the walls, people to impress - my worst area of competiton, and a single slip up could out me as weak, mark me as a target. What to do? In the end, I shuffled up to the lunch counter behind the Snow girl - getting as close as possible to the centre of my alliance couldn't hurt. "Sorry, I can't eat this.
"Hi, I'm Brendan Greymark. Nice to meet you, Miss Snow." Blah, blah, blah. Niceties, niceties, niceties. I hoped I didn't look nervous at all. There was a group of Career-looking kids, already seated and barking back and forth - these were like dogs, they could smell fear.
"Oh, yes. My mentor told me about you. Nice to meet you, I guess." I looked over my shoulder, nervous that someone else had heard her speak of the dealings through our mentors - no one had, far as I could tell. The paranoia was already setting in.
I followed her to a table, trailed by a little shadow of a girl. I offered my hand to her. "Brendan Greymark. And you are?"
There was no response. Trish piped up, "She's a bit shocked right now. She'll snap out of it."
Before I had a chance to tear a strip out of her for this terrible move - associating with such a weakling, what was she thinking? - Yann and a somber girl walked up to the table. She introduced herself as Brienne Jameson, Trish's roommate, then didn't utter another word. Yann, gratefully, kickstarted the conversation. I looked around the table - we had Trish, who was non-optional and who was apparently linked to Sadie for whatever reason. They'd be difficult to drag through, not much help physically. Yann and I were brains - he was pudgy, I couldn't run. Brienne started to even things out, as she explained that she had been an athlete before this all began.
And we had what was looking like a Career alliance sitting at the next table. Pretty soon they'd realise who to pick off.
Therefore, we needed more muscle than just silent Brienne. Who could we pick? "Met anyone interesting?" I asked the table.
Heads shook back and forth. Yann blabbed about some entertainer he'd meet at the longsword station who was really fun but already in that other alliance.
"Not really. My roommate's a dope," commented Brienne, breaking her silence. "Still thinks President Snow is king. Idiot, to be loyal to a rotting corpse and a deposed government."
That is exactly what we needed. Someone who would take care of Trish just on principle, stick with her, take care of her. "What's his name?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"Mel Knox." She stuck her thumb in the direction of the end of the other table.
Great. Now all we need is a way to get Trish through the bloodbath - that's going to be the worst part. She can't fight, and there's no way to hide. I'll need to get her to run, but there's so much that could go awry. Adistraction, I needed to cook up a distraction. There was my plan for the next day.
Getting in for the evening, Yann and I ate dinner with our mentor. About halfway through dinner, I decided to set the plan in action. "Hey, what do you think of Mel Knox? The Tribute who used to be a Peacekeeper?"
The mentor snorted. "I don't think of him at all. Why? Looking to add to the alliance?"
"Yes. I think he'd be useful."
She swilled the last of her beer around in the bottom of her glass, a pensive look on her face. "Yeah, nothing wrong with that. Let's look him up." She reached into a bag she'd left on a nearby couch and got out a list of Tributes, with photos and brief descriptions. "Yep, used to be a medic. Excellent choice, Brainy."
"You'll ask his mentor?"
"Sure. You know, I thought you'd be a loner about this. Good for you, strengthening your alliance. You might survive after all. Just maybe."