Fun Fact #2: Jiaxon is named after a Chinese exchange student at my old school whom I have never spoken a word to.
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[Diary of Jiaxon Shuman]
The 74th Games are over, and there are two victors. Two. I don't know how—I've heard whispers from the kids in my class that the big rule change was revoked—but somehow, they still managed to both get out of there alive. And, from what I've heard, they made a big fool of the Capitol in the process. That's probably why the news is spreading so quickly down here. Even seventy-four years after our unofficial sesess- secession and supposed destruction, I think we're all still looking for the Capitol to pay.
After hearing about the victory, I waited until lunch before slipping away, ditching the rest of my classes to hunt down Stairs at training.
Tecnic- Technically, I'm not allowed to be anywhere near the training gym until next year, when I turn fourteen. But there's been a change of leadership there since the res- recent death of the Head Trainer, who bit it in the infirmary not five weeks ago. The new HT, a younger trainer named Caspar Hanna, is no less leani- lenient with the age rule but definitely more willing to let me hang around in the gym. Stairs told me he thinks I'm funny.
I found my friend at the shooting range, wearing a bulky pair of headphones to block out the noise. I covered my own ears with my hands as I watched him shoot from a Hanna-approved distance.
For the first time, I realized that Stairs is a great shot—not that I'd ever admit it to him. But his steady hits on the center of the papery target remind me vaguely of Everdeen and her arrows.
I looked over at Hanna, stuck my thumb out towards Stairs, and mouthed He's good.
"The best," said Hanna out loud. "You can go down there if you want, Shuman. Just try not to sneak up on him."
I nodded and headed to the shooting range, giving Alistair a tap on the shoulder when he took a break to change out the tattered target.
"Jiaxon!" he said, slipping his headphones down so they hung around his neck. The smile only lasted for a moment when he realized what time it was. "You're skipping fifth, aren't you?"
"Did you know there were two victors?" I blurted out to change the subject. After a breif- brief accusatory look, Stairs set down his gun, nodding.
"Yeah, my dad told me about it this morning," he said. Looking back, I'm not surprised he learned of the double victory before I did. I was disapoi- disappointed that I didn't get to see his reaction to the news, though.
"Oh, then you definitely know more about it than I do," I told him, excited, "Want to tell me everything?"
"It's strange, Jiaxon…"
"I love strange," I stressed, eager to know what had happened last night.
"Okay, well it was the two from District Twelve who won."
"Who, the star-crossed lovers?"
"Something like that."
"How did they do it?" I wondered. "I thought the Capitol changed the rules back."
"Berries," Stairs told me simply.
"Berries?"
"Poisonous berries," he explained, "They killed off the big guy from Two, and then they thret- threatened to kill themselves. So, I guess it was two victors or none at all."
"That's…" I struggled to find the words, "That's really smart. Why hasn't anyone tried that before?" I know this isn't the only year where the final two tributes have been from the same district. It happened last year, in the 73rd Games. But, rather than form a clever plan like this, the final two spent the last hour of the Games trying to violently murder each other.
Stairs knew just what I was thinking. "The pair last year were from Two," he said, shaking his head, "Would you expect anything more from a couple of Careers?"
"I guess not," I said. "It just seems so easy, now that they've done it."
"To be honest, if I were a tribute, I don't think I would have thought of it," admitted Stairs. "Everdeen has guts, sticking it to the Capitol like that."
"Do you think anything's going to happen to them?" I asked him. "I mean, are they going to get punished for this?"
Stairs shook his head. "As far as I know, they're treating this like a normal victory. Probably going to say their judgem- judgment was clouded by their love for each other, or something like that."
"Makes sense." I shrugged. Despite the fact that Panem's newest victors-plural are safe now, I almost think that it would have been better for the rest of the country if they had been killed. Maybe that would throw things into perspective for the more powerful districts, and things in Panem could start moving in a different direction.
"Nothing about it feels right, though, Jax," Alistair told me, "My parents were called to a meeting last night, and by the time I went to sleep, they still weren't home. Something's up."
"Maybe the higher-ups are considering raising us from the ground," I suggested. Admittedly, my tone was probably a little too innocent for a heavy comment like that.
"Don't talk like that." Stairs grimaced. "That's the last thing we want."
"I don't know about that!" I said, "If there was really an all-night meeting over this, seems to me like we're pretty eager to get involved."
"Let's stop talking about this," he said back, "We can worry about it when we have to. If we have to."
"Yeah, fine." I agreed, reluctant.
"But, in the meantime—" Stairs drew out the word, "As long as we're not worrying about this, that is."
"What?" I was curious.
"Want to try the gun?" A grin played across his lips. I'm sure my eyes grew as large as saw- saucers.
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," he said, picking up his handgun and holding it out to me, "Take it."
It was then that I realized I was hesitant to take it from him. This was the closest I'd ever been to a gun in my life, so I'd certainly never held one. Much less actually shot it. But here was my chance to try. I reached out and took the gun, my grip on the weapon probably looser than it should have been.
"Alright, keep it pointed downrange."
"Got it. What now?"
"Hold it tighter."
"How tight?"
"You're shaking hands with someone you hate. That tight." I nodded and adjusted my grip.
"Better." Stairs nodded.
"Do I need a pair of those clunky headphones?" I asked. In reply, Stairs took his own from around his neck and placed them over my ears, adjusting the headband so they fit me. I squinted to look at the target.
And that's as far as we got. Stairs spotted Hanna from across the room, waving his arms in a gesture that could not have more clearly expressed "NO!" Stairs, looking apologetic, took the gun back. I wasn't that disappointed.
I guess I'll just have to wait until next year.
Jiaxon
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Hello, nonexistent readers of Jiaxon's diary. As you've probably noticed from the sudden change in handwriting, I'm not the owner of this book. My name is Alistair Walsh, although more and more people have begun calling me Stairs. Which is strange, considering that's not even how my name (AH – liss – ter) is pronounced! I think it must have been the incident last month, during the evacuation drill, that brought this on.
Evacuation drills in Thirteen are kind of a joke, since we all know that we're essentially just going deeper into the district. Real safe. I went down a lot of stairs that day. Fell down a lot of them, anyway. Then back up the stairs to the infirmary when they realized that I probably had a concussion. Stairs.
I'm not actually here to talk about my name, though. Jax wants me to write down what I know about the new victors from Twelve, as if I hadn't already spilled everything before in the gym. I don't think you trust me, Jiaxon!
I'm almost positive my parents told me all that they knew about the finale of the 74th Hunger Games, but I'm even more certain that they left out any details concerning Thirteen's stance in all of this. So if that's what you're looking for, Jiaxon, you're going to be disappointed. I know nothing.
But the Games, I can tell you about.
This year, the finale began with three tributes left alive: Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, and Cato Bailor—he's the blond guy from Two, remember? Katniss and Peeta were still allied; because they still thought the rule change was something more than a ploy to get the star-crossed lovers back together again. As for Cato, he was on his own. He did have some pretty sturdy body armor on, though. Unfortunately, that ended up doing him more harm than good. But more on that later.
The Gamemakers made the sky go dark first, and then they released the animals. Apparently they were huge, wolflike creatures, genetically engineered to have some of the same features as the tributes who had already died. I asked to see pictures. (I should not have asked.) I don't want to elaborate on that more than I have to, Jiaxon, I honestly can't bear to think about it. It's the stuff of nightmares. But that's what happened. And those things chased the remaining tributes all the way to the Cornucopia. The three of them climbed up on top where the wolves couldn't get them, but there they were faced with a new problem. Each other. Which put Cato at the advantage, obviously, since he was well trained and almost completely immune to Everdeen's arrows. And then, suddenly, he had a hostage. Peeta.
He grabbed Peeta around the neck just as Katniss drew her bow. She couldn't shoot Cato in the head without killing Peeta, too. He probably thought he'd already won right then, but he didn't notice that her aim had shifted. She shot him in the hand, another of the few places unprotected by his armor, and he dropped Peeta. The next thing they knew, he'd fallen right over the side of the Cornucopia.
My dad told me it took all night for the wolves to finish with Cato. I don't know if it was the body armor that protected him, or worse, the Gamemakers keeping him alive. But that's how it was. The wolves just ate away at him, all night long. And Katniss and Peeta, up on top of the Cornucopia, had to listen to him screaming that whole time. If there was any doubt in my mind that the Games are the sickest thing to ever happen, it's gone now.
But that doesn't explain how they both won, so I'm not done yet. Katniss eventually figured out that Cato wasn't going to die by the wolves, so she shot him herself to put him out of his misery. Not that there was anything merciful about it after she waited the entire night to do it.
They thought the Games were over after Cato's cannon went off. But, less than a minute after their last enemy had died, the second rule change was announced. Only one victor. Just like that, the finale was still going. I'd say Katniss was pretty prepared to kill her so-called lover, but when she saw how ready Peeta was to let her do it, she hesitated. That's when she pulled out the berries.
Jax, I think you should be writing more than ever. If I didn't know better, I'd say there's actual history unfolding in front of us.
Alistair Jem Walsh
(Stairs)
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Next chapter: I'm kicking off Part Three with three friends from Eight, one high school crush, two actual high schoolers, and a homeless guy with a very odd name.