Death
"Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It takes and it takes and it takes, and we keep living anyway."
Hannah Malacek, 18
District Ten
I can see it coming before the gong even sounds. This wasn't an accident – placing me next to a group of three high-scoring tributes … and a good distance away from any of my allies. I can't outrun them. I can't fight three of them – not without some sort of weapon. But I have no choice but to try one of those things.
Three. Two. One. As soon as the gong sounds, I make my choice. The oldest of the bunch – the boy from Nine – lunges towards me, hoping to catch me by surprise. No such luck. I manage to dodge him, and then the girl from Eight. But, by then, the boy from Eleven has reached us. He dives for my legs, and I don't have time to dodge before his arms are wrapped around my knees, dragging me to the ground.
I kick. I struggle. I even manage to land a punch squarely on the boy's nose. But he holds on, gripping my legs tightly as the other boy kicks me in the stomach. Once. Twice. The third time, I manage to squirm out of the way, and he accidentally kicks the other boy, instead. The boy lets out a shout – more surprised than hurt – but still doesn't let go.
Mantle Grimes, 15
District Eleven
I can't let go. That much was obvious the moment I grabbed the girl's legs. If I let go, she has a chance to gain the upper hand. If I hold on…
She rolls. I roll with her. Perfectly in time. Never losing my grip. Jim kicks again, but it's obvious he's hesitant. Reluctant to deal what might be a fatal blow. If we could trade places, I wouldn't hesitate. Not for a second. But we can't. I have to hold on.
And we can't stay here forever. Eventually, someone will notice us fighting and decide that one of us would be an easy target.
Suddenly, a sharp pain in my back confirms my fears. Someone did notice. Blood. I can feel it dripping down my shirt. A familiar sensation. But this … this is different. Whoever stabbed me knew exactly where to hit.
I catch a look of surprise on Jim's face as I glance up. It's too late. Too late for him to do anything but yank the knife out of my back. Which he does. Stupid. That'll only make me bleed faster. Everything is going dark. But it almost feels … good. Peaceful.
More peaceful than anything else in my life, certainly. I didn't expect it to be over this soon, but … well, maybe that's for the best. I just hope my family…
Jayda Greggory, 18
District Two
I wasn't close enough to do anything but throw the knife and hope. I got lucky. Luckier than I expected. The boy's body slumps over on top of Hannah. I quickly grab a more suitable weapon – a long-handled axe in a nearby pile – and glance around for my allies. My other allies. Hannah isn't my concern. I don't even know whether the cannon that sounds is hers or the boy's. Whichever of them isn't dead will be joining the other soon enough.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the boy from Nine still holding the knife. Deciding. He's taking too long. I start running towards him. Closer. Maybe I can take him out, too, before he has the sense to run, like the girl from Eight is already doing. But, just as I'm getting close enough, he makes his choice, reaching down quickly to slit Hannah's throat before taking off with his ally.
A second cannon sounds, and I briefly consider following him. But only briefly. He's too far away already, and I won't get that lucky with a knife again. I'd only be providing him with more weapons. He's already gotten a knife out of the deal. I'm not about to give him anything else.
Besides, he probably just did me a favor. Hannah would have turned on me eventually. It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of how long it took for me to let my guard down. This way … well, that's one less thing to worry about. I wasn't going to kill her myself – not this soon, at least – but I was under no obligation to save her.
Jim Demetrius, 18
District Nine
The slope is steep and rocky, and I quickly catch up to Lacey, who's obviously not used to this sort of terrain. Not that I am. Most of District Nine is pretty flat. But at least it's flat ground in Nine, rather than the paved sidewalks of the factory districts. Still, it's slow going, but at least no one seems to be chasing us.
Us. Lacey and me. Because Mantle … Mantle is dead. Dead, just like my little sister – and I was just as powerless to do anything as I was on the day I lost her. The day my father killed her. There was nothing I could do for Vivian. And nothing I can do now for Mantle. They're both dead.
But we're still alive – Lacey and me. And I have a weapon. Sure, it's just a knife, but that's enough for now. Other tributes, even if they run this way, are less likely to attack us if they can see that we're armed. Even if that's the only benefit of having this knife – a knife that already has blood on it – that's good enough for me.
And if they saw that I already used it – that I already killed … well, all the better. That'll make them even less likely to attack. I killed. Those two words still sound wrong together. I killed the girl from Ten. I should have killed her sooner. If I had, Mantle might…
No. No, the girl from Two would still have thrown the knife. If not to try to save her ally, then to avenge her. Mantle would still be dead. I would still be alive. Nothing would have changed.
Apollo Lancey, 14
District Five
I saw everything. The girl from Ten. The boy from Eleven. The blood. I was running around the outside of the circle – Darrin rushed towards me as soon as the gong sounded. I kept my distance. That's the only reason I wasn't in the way when the girl from Two threw the knife.
I'm gasping for breath by the time Darrin and I reach the others, but I can't afford to stop. We rush towards the edge of the plateau, only to be greeted by a fairly steep slope, rocky and barren. At the bottom, I can see some plants. Some shrubs. "Down there?" I call to Ada, but she's already descending the slope. Already eager to get away from the fighting.
She was the one, after all, who told us to come this way. Does she see something down there that I don't? Or was she just hoping she wouldn't have to race across the plateau? I'm not sure, but I do know that we need to get moving. Darrin, Bentley, Phoebe, and I quickly follow her down the slope.
Charlotte Jacquard, 17
District One
The slope is a bit steeper than I thought, but we don't exactly have any other options. As soon as he's within reach, I grab Julian's hand. He jumps, but, after realizing that it's me, turns to run in the direction I'm leading him.
Well, 'run' is being generous. It's more of a brisk walk, and he stumbles on a rock every now and then, but he manages to keep moving. And, even better, no one seems interested in following us. They all have better things to do.
"There are trees in the distance," I explain. "Once we get there, we'll stop for a little while."
Julian nods, but doesn't say anything. He's probably trying to focus on not tripping over the rocky ground. He grips my hand tightly as we keep pressing forward, the sounds of the fighting dying down behind us. At last, he gives my hand a squeeze. "Thank you, Charlotte."
Lexi Concord, 15
District Four
Dina and I race towards each other across the plateau. She's focused only on getting to me. But me? I have to admit it's tempting to try to grab something. A bit of food, a weapon – maybe even one of those backpacks towards the center. I'm pretty fast. I could probably make it…
Almost before I realize what I'm doing, my legs are carrying me forward. I can grab something. Some food, at least. That way, we won't have to worry about finding food for a while. No one's going to come after me. They're all going after the other tributes who are reaching for weapons. Let them fight each other. I can—
Just as my hand closes around a loaf of bread, however, there's a sudden pain in my chest. Then I see the blade – and the girl. The girl from Twelve, who quickly pulls her dagger out of my chest, letting the blood flow freely as I sink to the ground. Everything's getting blurry, but I think I see Dina running away. Good. That's good. Maybe…
Ivone Eister, 17
District Twelve
She's dead. The girl from Four. It takes me a moment to register that the cannon is hers. That I just … I just killed someone. I thought … well, I thought she would put up more of a fight. But how could she have? She didn't have a weapon. She had a loaf of bread. I take a step back, so distracted that I don't even notice the boy racing by me with a backpack. The little boy from Eight. He must have rushed in while I was focused on the girl from Four.
That's okay. He can go. I wouldn't be able to catch him now, anyway. Besides, I already did what I wanted. I got the lowest score in our group during training, which meant I would have to prove myself once the Games actually started. And I have. I've proven to them – all of them – that I can kill.
And I've proven it to myself.
It doesn't feel like I thought it would, though. I thought there would be at least some sense of … I don't know. Satisfaction, maybe. Like the feeling I always got when Ramsey and I pulled off one of our smuggling deals. But this … this is different. There was nothing in it for me – nothing except the knowledge that one more tribute is dead. I'm one step closer to going home. And maybe … well, maybe that's enough.
Atleigh Chaplin, 12
District Eight
Whatever's in this bag will have to be enough, because I'm not going back up there. I clutch the backpack tightly as I run. Away from the fighting. The blood. Away from the girl from Four who was killed right in front of me. Away from the girl from Twelve who killed her.
I hope Rick is somewhere behind me. I don't dare look back. Not yet. If he's there, he's there. If not, I'll meet up with him sooner or later. Getting away quickly is more important. If he has any sense, he'll do the same – worry about getting away first, and finding me later.
Okay. Okay, breathe. Just breathe. No one's coming after me. They don't have any reason to. Sure, I grabbed a backpack, but there are plenty more where it came from. Whoever's left at the top will have plenty of supplies for the rest of the Games. But whatever's up there, it's not worth getting killed for.
I wouldn't have rushed in at all, except for the fact that I was next to the girl from Four. Lexi. I figured people might go after her, instead, given what the interviewer revealed about her father. Even if she tried to distance herself from him, the fact remains that most of the loyalists would consider her a target. Besides, she was older than me, which made her a more tempting target to begin with. No one cares about a little twelve-year-old running away from a fight. No one was going to chase me. And that's what I was counting on.
Elinor Siesto, 18
District Six
Jae is counting on me to make it across the plateau, so I might as well grab something useful while I'm at it. Off to my right, I can see the girl from Ten struggling with the boys from Nine and Eleven. I swerve the other way, instead, heading for the center even as the first cannon sounds. The second quickly follows it.
I scoop up a short sword as I weave my way through the pile of weapons. It's not heavy, but hopefully it'll be enough to keep anyone from thinking I'm an easy target. Now I just have to get to Jae. A third cannon sounds – whose, I don't know. I sling a backpack over my back and race towards the other side of the circle. Maybe there's some food inside. Maybe not. I can't afford to waste any time being picky.
But before I even make it much past the center, a blade comes slicing towards me. I manage to duck away from the axe, but the girl from Two swings again, this time catching the side of my backpack. Supplies start to spill out – what, exactly, I can't stop to find out. I duck beneath her next blow, but she steps to the right, positioning herself between me and Jae.
He's already running. Useless. Then again, he doesn't have a weapon. And he has no real reason to risk his life for me. I grit my teeth and swing my own weapon. The other girl dodges easily, then swings again, her axe narrowly missing my chest.
But something else finds it. I was so focused on her, I didn't even see the spear. The spear that stabs deep into my stomach from a safe distance. Pain shoots up from my gut as I turn in time to see the boy from One, a satisfied smile creeping across his face as I slump to the ground. He takes a step closer. But only one – as if he doesn't want to risk getting too close.
Or maybe he simply knows he doesn't have to. He yanks the spear from my stomach and, in one quick thrust, sinks it deep into my neck. Blood. Wet and warm and sticky. It's all I can feel. All I can see. The last thing I'll ever see.
Ra Schintozo, 18
District One
The cannon sounds, and Jayda nods. "Good job," she concedes. Of course, she was the one who distracted the girl long enough for me to strike a fatal blow. Still, there's a certain sense of … accomplishment in having been the one to actually finish her off.
But I can't afford to get too far ahead of myself. There's still plenty of competition. Most of the other tributes have fled, leaving only our alliance at the top of the plateau – along with four dead bodies. "Should we go after some of the others?" Isaac asks, a machete in his hand – unbloodied. I saw Jayda throw a knife at the boy from Eleven earlier, and even Ivone's dagger has blood on it. Maybe he's eager to prove himself, after seeing that we've each managed a kill.
But Jayda shakes her head. "They're too far away – and we don't want to give them the opportunity to sneak back here and get weapons before we've had a chance to go through the supplies."
She's got the right idea – that much is clear. There's no point in competing so hard to earn our place at the top of the plateau if we aren't going to stake out our claim to the supplies before proceeding with the rest of our plan. Ivone nods quickly – a little too quickly. From the look of it, she killed the girl from Four. Maybe that's rattled her a bit. She certainly doesn't seem to be injured. In fact, aside from Hannah, none of us have so much as a scratch.
And Hannah … well, to be honest, I would have preferred to keep her around a little longer. She and Jayda might eventually have turned on each other, ridding me of two problems at once. Now I'll just have to be all the more careful of Jayda, because now if she decides to turn on someone, it might be me.
Isaac Swarthy, 16
District Twelve
I should be relieved. Relieved that I didn't have to fight. Relieved that I'm alive. That I made it through the first few minutes of the Games – even though it feels like much, much longer – without a scratch. But, glancing around at my allies, I can't help but wonder if I'm already at a disadvantage, despite being perfectly unharmed. There are four bodies strewn around the circle – one of my allies, and three others. The ones my allies killed. Three. One each.
And what did I accomplish? Nothing of note. I grabbed a weapon, but, by the time I had turned around to use it, all the tributes were gone, leaving only Ra, Jayda, Ivone, and me inside the circle. It all happened so fast. What was I supposed to do?
Maybe I should have gone after someone – chased after them regardless of what Jayda said. But it's too late now. Too late to start second-guessing myself. I quickly get to work helping the others sort through the supplies. Our supplies. But I can't shake the feeling that this was all a little too easy.
Jae Park, 17
District Six
I thought it would be easier for her to make it across the circle. Sure, we got the same training score, but that doesn't change the fact that Elinor was bigger than me. Physically stronger than me. I didn't get a seven from the Gamemakers because they thought I'd be good in an actual fight. I figured – and so did she, I assume, since she was the one who insisted – that she would have a better chance of making it through the circle alive.
I was wrong. Maybe. Of course, I might have been dead if I'd tried, too. Maybe we should have gone around. Split up and agreed to meet each other later. I shake my head as I run. There's no point in worrying about that now. No point in wondering what might have happened. It didn't. I ran. She ran. I made it. She didn't. That's all there is to it.
At least, I want to believe that's all there is to it. That she simply got unlucky. The truth is, she chose to try to make it across the circle … so that I wouldn't have to. She could have asked me to run across and find her. But she didn't. And that … well, if I'm being honest, that probably saved my life.
Aria Barker, 16
District Seven
Not having any allies probably saved my life. Before the gong sounded, I could see people motioning across the circle to their allies – either trying to get them to be the one to cross or offering to do it themselves. I hope Bentley had the sense not to run across. But I can't afford to worry about him right now – or any of the others. I have to focus on getting myself to safety.
I didn't grab anything from the circle. I didn't have time. I just ran – straight away from the plateau, towards the treeline. A little to my left, I can see the little girl from Nine meeting up with the boy from Four, and, together, they rush away from the fighting – and me. I wonder if Bentley managed to find his allies—
Stop it. I can't keep wondering how Bentley's doing – not if I want to win this thing. Bentley may be my district partner, and he may only be thirteen, but he's competition now – the same as any of the others. And he might be dead, anyway – there have been four cannons so far. Maybe one of them was his. Maybe not. I'm just glad none of them were mine.
Bentley Norman, 13
District Seven
I'm just glad none of those cannons were mine. Ada, Apollo, Darrin, Phoebe, and I race down the slope as fast as we dare, but, for the moment, at least, we seem to be out of danger. There have been four cannons so far, but all the fighting seems to be taking place back at the top of the hill. I guess their plan to draw in more tributes by putting food in the center worked.
Maybe. There were four cannons at the start last year, after all. Four tributes who died pretty quickly after the Games began. Four last time. Four this time. Maybe things aren't so different, after all.
Ada, who's in the lead, stops short as the path starts to get steeper. Much steeper. We aren't going to be able to keep running down this slope. "Are you sure you want to go this way?" Apollo asks.
It's an innocent enough question, but Ada's face immediately turns red. "I don't know! I just wanted to get away from the fighting. I thought – I mean, you all just started following me. Which way do you want to go? Back up there?"
Darrin shakes his head, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. "Okay. It's okay. Take a deep breath. It's okay. We're all okay. We're still alive."
Ada nods, but she's still shaking. "I think we should keep going this way," I suggest. "The fact that it gets steeper – well, that just makes it less likely that anyone else will follow us, right?"
"Exactly," Darrin agrees. "Let's keep moving. If we're lucky, no one else will think coming this way is a good idea."
Because it isn't. It's a terrible idea. But arguing about it any longer is an even worse one. Slowly, carefully, Darrin starts climbing down the slope, and the rest of us follow. But I can't help wondering how long it will be before following him and Ada gets one of us killed.
Ada Lavoisier, 17
District Five
I'm lucky I didn't get any of them killed. I'm the one who told them to run this way. The one who insisted that Darrin and Apollo cross the circle to get to us, rather than the other way around. I wish I could say that I was thinking like Bentley – that I figured fewer tributes would be likely to follow us down the steeper slope. He might be right. But that's not what was going through my head. I wasn't even thinking about the fact that Phoebe, Bentley, and I were on one side, so it made sense for the other two to meet up with the majority of us. At least that would have been numbers – pure and simple, easy to justify.
But I wasn't thinking about the numbers. I was just afraid – afraid of what might happen if I tried to make it across the circle. Me. Not Phoebe or Bentley – me. I was afraid that I might die if I tried to reach the others, instead. I wonder if they can tell. If they've figured out that I don't really know what the hell I'm doing. If they realize that coming this way wasn't part of any plan – just a reaction to a moment of fear.
Maybe they know. Maybe they don't. Maybe the rest of them are just as afraid – maybe they're just better at hiding it. Darrin certainly doesn't seem scared, even as he helps the younger ones down the steeper parts of the slope. I'm struggling to find my next footing, but I don't dare ask for help. I don't want to look weak. I'm one of the older members of the group. I'm supposed to be helping them. But how long can I do that, if I want to survive?
Jethro Brackish, 14
District Four
If we want to survive, we're going to have to do some things we don't like. That's what I keep reminding myself of. Mel and I reached the treeline, and now we're waiting. Waiting to see who's coming…
I saw the girl from Seven earlier, running the same way as us. But she wasn't carrying anything. She ran away from the fighting empty-handed, just like we did. But anyone who's coming down this way after us – anyone who took a bit longer – is probably carrying something useful. So we're waiting here, in case we see someone we might be able to overpower.
Mel and I crouch down low. She's watching me – maybe wondering why I'm still waiting. Maybe no one else is coming. Maybe we should just keep moving – in case the tributes who are armed decide to come after us. But my gut says they'll probably stay at the top of the hill for a while – at least long enough to sort through their supplies. That's what I'd do, if I was older and had a large alliance.
But I don't. I have Mel. And I'm glad to have her, but the simple fact is we're not exactly the most intimidating bunch. Even if another tribute comes this way, do we really have a chance of taking their supplies? Maybe it's better if we just—
I'm about to gesture to Mel that it's time to go when I see him. The boy from Eight, rushing down the slope, a backpack slung over his shoulder. I tense, ready to spring, and Mel's eyes widen as she realizes what I'm planning to do. But she doesn't make a move to stop me. The boy runs right for us. He doesn't see me until I lunge, wrapping my arms around his legs and dragging him to the ground.
It's only then that he lets out a yell, but that scream is quickly stifled as I scramble to my knees and wrap my hands around his neck. His hands quickly find my wrists, wrapping around them, trying to push me away. But I hold on. I squeeze. He keeps thrashing. Kicking. His arms flailing wildly once he realizes he's not going to be able to push me away. But not for long. Finally, his body goes still, and a cannon sounds.
"Hey!" A voice from farther up the hill. "Get away from him!" A girl. The girl from Three, I think. Lexi's ally. But where's Lexi? Not my problem. As quickly as I can, I yank the backpack away from the dead boy and take off after Mel, who's already started to run farther down the hill. Into the trees. With any luck, the other girl won't be able to catch us. And as for luck … well, I'd say we've gotten pretty lucky already.
Dina Brookfield, 15
District Three
I'm just lucky it wasn't me. Lucky I didn't happen to be the one running down the hill with a backpack. If I'd been a little bit faster, it might have been me, instead. But would the boy really have attacked me? From the look of it, he just wanted Atleigh's backpack. I don't have anything, so maybe he would have left me alone. And if I'd been closer to Atleigh, maybe I would have been able to save him. Maybe I could have helped…
But would I have? I don't know. I'd like to think I would have. Under any other circumstances – ordinary circumstances – I know I would have tried to help a younger kid, tried to keep them from being killed. But these aren't ordinary circumstances. If I'd been close enough to stop the boy from Four from trying to kill Atleigh … would I really have stepped in?
"Atleigh!" Rick's voice from behind me startles me out of my thoughts. He passes me quickly, rushing over to Atleigh's body.
I shake my head as I step forward to join him. "He's gone. I heard his cannon. The boy from Four … Atleigh had a backpack, and the other boy – he took it. Just like that. I wasn't close enough to…"
Rick shakes his head. "That wasn't your job. It wasn't your job to protect him. It was mine. If I'd been with him – if I'd been a little bit faster. Or if he'd waited. Why couldn't he just wait for me." There are tears in his eyes as he looks up. "It wasn't your fault."
"It wasn't your fault, either." I lay a hand on his shoulder. "He chose to run. The other boy chose to attack him. You never wanted either of those things."
None of us did. None of us wanted this. None of us wanted to be here. Even the boy who killed Atleigh probably didn't want this. He just wanted Atleigh's supplies. He just wanted what any of us want: he wanted to live.
Rick Therald, 17
District Three
He just wanted to live. That's why Atleigh took off without me. He wanted to get away from the fighting. He wanted to be safe. But rushing ahead without me got him killed, instead. There was nothing I could do. Nothing Dina could do. All my jokes, all my puns … nothing can make this better. Nothing can bring him back.
But maybe there's something else I can do. I turn to Dina. "Your partner – the girl you were working with – Lexi, right? Is she…?"
Dina shakes her head. "She didn't make it out of the circle. She was trying to get supplies for us, and she … it's just me now. I'm alone."
I stand up slowly. "Maybe you don't have to be. Atleigh was the only partner I had. If both of our partners are dead, then maybe we…"
"You want to work together? Work with me? When I couldn't even keep Lexi safe?"
"I couldn't keep Atleigh safe," I point out. "Maybe it's not about keeping each other safe. Maybe it's enough to just keep each other company until…"
Until one of us dies. Until the inevitable happens and either we're attacked or we drown or we burn in a fire or a tree falls on us or … man, there are a lot of ways to die here. And not a lot of ways to live. But if we can make life a little better for each other – even for a little while – then that seems like the best thing to do.
At last, Dina nods. "Okay. It's a deal." The two of us turn away from Atleigh's body and head down the slope hand in hand. I grip her hand tightly. It's just the two of us now. But that's better than being alone.
Lacey Blair, 16
District Eight
It's just the two of us now. Just me and Jim. But that … well, I guess that's still better than being alone. Mantle was going to have to die, anyway, if I want to win. And so does Jim. That's what I keep trying to tell myself. But that doesn't make it any better. It doesn't erase the memory of him bleeding to death right in front of me. It doesn't get rid of the helplessness I felt, the knowledge that there was nothing I could do to save him. Nothing anyone could have done.
Nothing, of course, except run. If we had run in the first place, rather than trying to kill Hannah and make a good impression, we might all have made it out alive. Sure, Jim managed to kill her, but at what cost? And what did we get out of it? We didn't even have the chance to get any supplies – nothing but the knife that the girl from Two threw into Mantle's back. The knife that Jim used to slit Hannah's throat. There's already so much blood on it – but there will be more before the Games are over, if one of us is going to live.
No. No, not 'one of us.' Me. I want to be the one to make it out alive. But I didn't even do anything when Mantle went after Hannah. Jim tried to help, at least, but I … I just stood there. I just watched. Maybe if I had helped, if I had stepped in, maybe we would have been able to finish Hannah off sooner. Maybe we would have had time to grab some supplies. Maybe Mantle…
Stop it. I can't start second-guessing myself. Not now that the Games have actually started. Mantle is dead. Jim and I are alive. We don't have any supplies, but at least we have a knife. That's something. And, for now, it'll have to be enough.
Julian Masters, 16
District Two
We're both alive. I suppose that's good enough for now. There's not a lot else that can be said for our situation. I'm blind. We're both unarmed. And we're trapped in an arena with twenty-two other teenagers who want to kill us.
Well, technically not twenty-two. Not anymore. There have been five cannons so far. That means there are only nineteen of us left. And both of us are still alive.
That's thanks to Charlotte, of course. As much as I hate to admit it, I would've been easy pickings without her. I hate that thought – the idea that I'm relying on her too much. Back in District Two, I could usually get along just fine, as long as I only had to get around my house, or get to and from work. I knew my way around. But here … everything is new. I have no idea where anything is – or, at least, I wouldn't, if it wasn't for Charlotte.
But because I'm with her, I haven't stumbled too much as we made our way down the hill. And we've now reached what Charlotte says is the treeline – and a stream that's flowing out of the hill just beside us. I can hear it lapping against the rocks as the pair of us kneel down for a drink. The water is cool and, from what I can tell, at least, clean. It has a funny taste – almost like metal of some sort – maybe coming from somewhere inside the rocks. But if they want us to be able to kill each other, my guess is the Gamemakers haven't gone to the trouble of poisoning the water. There's probably not a lot of fun in that.
Not that there's a lot of fun in any of this – not for us, at least. Charlotte and I rest at the stream as long as we dare, but it's only a few minutes before she suggests that we should probably keep moving. "We don't know who might be following us," she points out. "We probably aren't exactly the hardest group to track."
She's right. By necessity, we make more noise than the others – both because of my clumsy footsteps jostling the smaller rocks and because Charlotte tries to warn me about what's coming up ahead. No, if there was someone who was intent on finding us, they wouldn't have a very hard time. Fortunately, neither of us has really given anyone a reason to target us. If I'm being honest, that's probably the only reason we're still alive.
Darrin Tunell, 18
District Ten
I'm just glad all five of us are still alive. The others seem a bit concerned about whether or not we should have run this way, but if we all made it out of the circle alive … well, we must have done something right. Sure, the path might have been a bit less steep if we'd gone the other way, but there's also no guarantee that all of us would have made it. And this way … Bentley said before that others might be less likely to follow us down this slope, and, judging from the lack of other tributes running this way, it looks like he was right.
Still, that doesn't stop the others from complaining. The younger ones are complaining that their feet hurt. Ada is still fretting about whether or not she made the right choice when she told us to run this way. Only Bentley is silent – either trying to focus on making it down the next part of the slope or maybe, like me, simply grateful to still be alive.
Because not everyone has been so lucky. There were four cannons at the start, and a fifth since we started climbing down the steeper part of the slope. Five tributes – five people – are dead so far, and it's only been … what? Half an hour? Maybe a little more or a little less? Certainly not very long. And already there are only nineteen of us left.
That should be a good thing. Or, at least, something reassuring. But I can't help but wonder who it is that got so unlucky. Hannah, I know, is already dead. But she was expecting that from the start. She volunteered knowing she wouldn't make it out of the Games alive – not with her past with the rebels. But I thought … well, I thought she would be able to…
What? Make it longer? Maybe she would have, if three of them hadn't gone after her at the start. There was a part of me that wanted to help, that wanted to rush in and try to save her, but … well, I was too scared. Or too focused on trying to get Apollo to safety. I had other people who needed me. Other people I was trying to help. And Hannah … she was my district partner, but we weren't working together. I had no reason to try to save her.
Phoebe Linden, 12
District Eleven
I had no reason to try to save him. Not really. It was Mantle's decision to rush into a fight. His choice to go after Hannah. Still, the look on his face when the knife entered his back … I don't think I'll ever forget that. I thought he would…
What? Be able to make it farther? I guess thought so, too, but it was his choice. He wanted to fight. Well, maybe he didn't want to. But he certainly chose to. He started the fight. The girl from Two – she was just protecting her ally.
I clutch Darrin's hand tightly as my foot slips, nearly pulling both of us down the slope. "Damn it," I mutter, giving the cliff a kick – and instantly regretting it. I don't mean to complain. I know I should be grateful to still be alive. But this – this is almost as bad. I feel like any moment now, we could all slip and fall into … what? I can't even see what's below us. The slope has almost become a cliff, and there's still no sign of what might be at the bottom.
But it's too late to go back up. By now, that would be even worse – and there might be tributes waiting for us at the top. There doesn't seem to be anyone trying to follow us, but that doesn't mean there wouldn't be by the time we made it back up. No, the only thing to do now is keep going – and hope that it doesn't get us killed.
Mel Mills, 13
District Nine
I suppose there's nothing to do now but keep going. The boy from Eight is dead, of course, but his ally – the boy from Three – wasn't far behind the girl from Three. The one who yelled at us, scared us away from the boy's body.
Yelled at Jethro. Jethro, who just … killed a boy. I always knew that was what we were going to have to do, but … well, I guess I didn't expect Jethro to want to start so soon. Not that he wanted this. Not that any of us want this. But I expected a little … I don't know. A little more hesitation, especially since Atleigh was…
What? Twelve? Hell, I'm only thirteen. I might only be a few months older than him. And Jethro – he's only a year older than me. None of us are hardened killers. None of us are soldiers. But we're all expected to kill. The boy who won last year – he killed. And he wasn't any older than me.
Still, the thought makes my stomach turn, now that I've actually seen it. The thought of the boy from Eight, squirming in Jethro's grasp, his arms flailing … it still gives me chills. He just wanted to live. He just wanted to get away from the fighting. And Jethro killed him for … what? His supplies? Or just because he could?
I want to believe that there's something useful in that pack. Something that might save our lives. Something that might make what he did worth it. But he's shown no signs of wanting to stop long enough to open it. And I'm certainly not going to suggest it. Not yet. For now, we can keep moving. Down the hill. Together. But now that Jethro's proven just how willing he is to kill, I have to wonder how long our little alliance will last.
Maverick Sterling
District One Mentor
They're still alive. I breathe a sigh of relief as the camera pans back to the top of the hill, where Ra and his group are still sorting through the supplies. There appears to be plenty of food, a few bottles of water, and, of course, all the weapons that were left at the top of the hill. Not many of the other tributes rushed in to grab one.
I didn't, either, of course. Lincoln and I ran immediately last year, and it was a while before we came back in search of weapons. But when we came back, at least, there was no one there. I wonder if the others will have the same chance this year, or if Ra and his group plan on staying at the top of the hill.
There certainly doesn't seem to be much of an advantage in leaving. They have everything they could want right there – everything, of course, except the opportunity for a fight. No one is really likely to attack them while they're in such a good position. And they don't really have a reason to venture anywhere else.
Charlotte and Julian, on the other hand, seem to want to get as far away from the top of the hill as possible. And they're making good time, I suppose, all things considered. And, even more importantly, no one else seems to be in the same area. All in all, the tributes are getting pretty spread out.
"It's a bit different, isn't it," General Tyrone offers, taking a seat next to me on one of the couches. Gloria invited me to join her and the other escorts in District Six's quarters – an offer I wasn't about to turn down. Being around so many people is a bit … intimidating, but it's still better than watching the Games alone.
"Different?" I echo, not quite sure what he means. Different than what? Different than last year? Of course it's different. I'm not in the arena. I'm not fighting for my life. That's different enough.
"Seeing things from the outside," he explains. "Being able to tell which tributes are near each other, who might be able to make a move against whom … but also being unable to do anything to influence the course of the Games. When you were in the arena, you had a say in what happened – even if it didn't seem that way at the time. Now all you can do – all any of us can do – is watch and wait."
I nod a little. He's right. It's different. But this is better. I wouldn't want to be back in the arena. I don't regret volunteering, but I wouldn't want to be in a situation like that again.
I glance up at the general. Both of his tributes are still alive – which makes this different for him, too. Last year, the boy from Seven was one of the first to die. And the girl…
She lived. She lived long enough to torture Vance to death, and would have done the same to me, if I hadn't gotten lucky. But that … that's all in the past. She's gone. She's dead. And I'm still here. I made it. I survived. And that's all that matters.
And the Games have begun! Sorry if you jumped to the end looking for a list of who died this chapter. We don't do that. :)
Congrats to Ra, Charlotte, Julian, and Ada, who won the sponsor poll and will be receiving a gift at some point during the Games. They may not be the only tributes who receive gifts, but they'll definitely get something. The rest of the results are up on the blog, along with a map of the arena.