50th Hunger Games/The Second Quarter Quell: Haymitch Abernathy, District 12, age 16
As he rises into the arena his first thought is contempt. They have their game of making kids kill each other, and now they want to make it all happy and fairytale too? The disgust turns to cunning when he realizes the impact of their surroundings slows the other tributes down at the bloodbath. After years of half-losing himself in daydreams to escape his miserable house with its leaking roof and his alcoholic mother, he is familiar with snapping back to reality quickly.
He ignores everything old Marcie told him and heads straight for the pile of weapons and packs, grabbing what he needs and heading out between two relatively non-threatening tributes on the other side. He aims for the forest, as far away from the mountain that looks suspiciously like the volcano that erupted in a previous Games as he can get. He doesn't recognize any of the fruits or leaves from the edible food station, and notices that the water in the first stream he comes across blisters his hand slightly so he doesn't drink from it. From the early echo of booming cannons, he figures a few tributes weren't as smart as that.
Aside from the cool nights, the occasionally wet evenings and the random squirrel attack when he tries to kill one of them for meat, he actually finds himself bored. His decision to head for the far edge of the arena is initially just something to focus on. Just like back home, once he has a goal, he always works better.
At least until he's jumped by three Careers, survivors of the volcano, who come at him all at once. Growing up on the rough end of the Seam with a mouthy, scrawny little brother, he knows how to handle a brawl. The trio aren't practiced at fighting together, and two of them foul each-others' attacks, letting him deal easily with the stocky boy from Two first. The second he hits hard, once in the balls, again under the jaw, and turns to face the third as Keston goes down.
The third boy, Trey leaps at him and slashes a long tear in his jacket as he dodges aside. Ducks another two swings, catches the arm on the third and stabs hard forward with his own blade. Too hard, it turns out as the boy from Ten falls with the knife stuck fast, leaving him unarmed.
He realizes this just as he feels the weight against his back and the sharp edge against his neck, Keston, recovered and pissed off. He closes his eyes and waits for the darkness, but it never comes. When he forces himself to look he has to pinch himself twice to be sure it's not another daydream.
With Maysilee as an ally they both do better. She's worked out a good way to gather rain water with a woven mesh of leaves. He's strong enough to carry the extra supplies they picked up from the Careers, including several sponsor-looking sandwiches and a blowtorch. The latter comes in handy when he hits the hedge-maze again. Like the arena two years back, the trees are wound thoroughly with a viciously sharp bramble and aren't climbable. When they blast through and reach the edge he feels like his goal should be completed, but there's still something niggling in his mind. He barely notices when Maysilee says she's leaving because he's too busy trying to figure it out. Something he should know that he can use, maybe to escape.
When he discovers the rebounding force field he laughs at his own folly. Of course there was never a way out. Now that he knows that he can focus on surviving inside the cage. That's when he hears the screams and he whispers a promise to Maysilee's body that he will wear the pin she wasn't allowed as a district token when he is crowned as a victor, just like she planned on doing.
Her death hardens him, steals away what little remorse he had and helps him prepare for his final vicious battle. He and Amber find one another after two days of stalking, him getting the jump literally from a tree above her as he slices open her upper arm. She retaliates with an elbow to his face, and follows through with the axe to his guts. The pain is so sharp and strange that he barely notices it at first. The adrenaline keeps him going enough to stagger away from the next swing that would have taken off his head and to dive forward, under the strike at his shoulder to sink his knife in her head. He twists and pulls and drops the knife when he sees the squashed remains of the eyeball impaled on the point, and for a moment has hope that he has beaten her.
The she shrieks and knees him in the side and he's forced to duck another axe swing and start an agonizing, hobbling run through the trees and the hole in the hedge. In the back of his mind he's thinking of the rock and the forcefield, and whether he can somehow trick her by kicking something off to rebound and hit her but his strength runs out five steps from the edge. As the darkness and agony overtake him and he feels his body start convulsing, his last sight is a flash of silver just missing his left ear.
