Chapter 9- Astrid Clearwater
Half-awake, half still dreaming, I reach across the bed, feeling for my mother. My fingers close on cold and soft blankets instead. Instantly I startle awake, looking at the smooth white ceiling above me that is so unlike the rough boards of home.
This isn't home.
Pulling the covers over my head, I bury myself in blankets and pillows and try to block out the world. I could cry for how much I miss my family. I want my Mama, and my little brother. I want us all to be together again. But I won't cry, because today is the start of the Training sessions, and I won't let my competitors think I'm weak.
What time is it? I peer out of my blanket nest and look around for a clock, finding one on the wall next to my bed. 7:25. Still early.
I rub my face as I go through the events of last night, and how absurd it turned at the end. When I got to the Prep Center, and after I got tortured for several hours, I got to meet my stylist, who goes by the name Sparkle Starglow. She's a classic Capitol idiot. She and Circuit's stylist, Pompey, put Circuit and me into heavy robot costumes; metal and wires running up and down and every which way. I couldn't move in mine well at all. That, of course, eliminated waving to the crowd. My arms were just too heavy.
I couldn't smile at the Capitol people either, once the chariots got underway. When I saw the freakish people lining the streets, I just stared at them. They screamed and cheered anyway, but their calls were mostly likely for the District 2s and 4s who were on either side of Circuit and me.
Circuit, by the way, has not stopped obsessively blinking in two days, and it's driving me crazy.
Then, at the end, after the president made his speech, the girl from 11 started yelling to him, and actually had a conversation with the man. I'm both slightly appalled, and in admiration of her gutsiness. I would never dare to do something like that. As much as I hate the man, I think he and I were on the same wavelength when it came to Nell's outburst. I'm surprised he didn't get angry, to be honest.
The sun's already up over the Capitol, so I get out of my bed to take a look at the city. The Training Center apartment is the height of luxury, even more so than the quarters on the train. My room alone is bigger than the whole apartment in District 3, maybe twice or three times the size. Add onto that the living areas, the other rooms- the people who live here want for nothing. And all the while, my people starve in District 3.
Peering down below, only a few people are walking around. Everyone must be tired out from the festivities yesterday; the streets were full until the early morning. I'll admit it, it's beautiful here. This apartment, however, no matter how beautiful it is, is still a prison. I can't leave until the day of the Games, and then they'll trap me again in the arena.
I've spent my whole life being trapped, really.
I sit by the window, wrapped in a silky grey blanket, until someone knocks on my door.
"Come in," I call. The door opens and Delia steps in, in all her blue cloud hair and white skinned glory.
"Beetee wants you in the dining room; you'll want to get dressed. Wear something sensible," is all she says before she leaves, shutting the door behind her.
I stand up, my legs falling asleep from sitting so long. Wear something sensible, she said. Going through the wardrobe that stands against the wall across from my bed, I pull out a dark blue short sleeved shirt, black pants, and comfortable looking shoes.
Once I'm dressed, I go into the washroom to battle my hair. It always wants to do what it wants to do, and never what I want it to do. Nevertheless, I battle the waves into a long red braid that runs down my back. There.
When I look into the mirror, I see the same Astrid I always do. The same girl that they all shun at home. My mother never has told me the truth about who my father was; are the rumors true? Was he a Peacekeeper? And even if he was, why have I always been punished for it? There's so much unfairness there that I don't want to even think about, so I leave the mirror, turning off the lights as I go.
Maybe if I win they won't be so quick to judge me.
Out in the dining room, everyone is already seated. I'd say Beetee looks serious, but he always looks that way. Circuit is dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and black pants, blinking away behind his glasses. Those glasses are not going to fare well in the arena.
"Ah, good, Astrid. Take a seat," Beetee says, gesturing. I pull a green chair to the table and sit down, waiting for my next orders. Delia picks a muffin up off a platter in the middle of the table and passes it to me. I thank her with a nod. One of the red-clothed servants silently pours me a cup of tea.
"Do you want to be coached together or separately?" Beetee asks, looking to Circuit and me each in turn, leaning forward on his folded arms. "You can always change your minds later if you would like."
"Separately," I say immediately, then take a bite of my muffin. It's fruity and very good. I can't get enough of the food here, and by the looks Delia gives me when I eat, my manners horrify her. I can't help it, though.
"Circuit?" Beetee asks.
"I'll go with what she says," my unfortunate district partner says. I almost feel sorry for Circuit, seeing as he's going into certain death in less than a week.
"Separately it is then," Beetee says, sitting back in his chair. "I'll take you each aside before you go downstairs, then. Please, eat. You must be downstairs in the gymnasium at 10:00, or just before."
The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. Circuit picks away at his own muffin; I devour mine in a matter of minutes and take another one as well. Delia makes a sort of clucking noise in her throat at my display, but I don't care. I've never gotten enough to eat in my life, never. This is my chance to fatten up before the Games. I almost forget my tea, but once I remember it, it's cooled enough to drink. Also delicious.
At half past nine, Beetee claps his hands. "Circuit, if you will follow me into the other room," he says. Paling, Circuit gets up and goes with Beetee, leaving Delia and me alone.
"Don't they ever teach you table manners in District 3?" she finally asks.
"My mother taught me lots of manners; I'm just choosing not to use them right now. Haven't you ever been starving, Delia?" I ask her.
The question seems to stump her. "Why, no. I can't- I can't say that I have."
"Then you won't understand how it feels to have a hollow stomach for years on end. If I want to eat now, I am going to eat, and manners be damned."
Before Delia can reply, Beetee's back and sitting down. "Right, Astrid. Today I want you working on survival skills; learning to light a fire and build a shelter can mean the difference between life and death in the arena. Get familiar with the edible plants section; I know from experience that living in District 3 gives you no help with that one. Knots, the whole nine yards there. Don't even bother with weightlifting, but go and work on some combat skills. Do you have that?"
"Yes."
"Then go and join Circuit at the elevators. Time for you to go down."
Circuit's already pressed the button and the elevator doors are opening when I get to them. Circuit avoids my eyes and we don't talk on the way down. Me wanting to be mentored separately has severed any pretenses of friendship or being allies.
The elevator is made of glass, so at first I can look out to see the Capitol, but it quickly vanishes as we shoot underground. How far down is the Gymnasium? Just as I'm wondering when the elevator will stop, it does, and the doors open to reveal a vast underground room.
I walk out ahead of Circuit, towards the center of the room where the other tributes are gathering in a circle. I step into place quietly next to the boy from 2, who doesn't even give me a glance. It's funny in a way to be taller than the tributes from District 2. Looking around, I see that I'm taller than just a few of the others. Not sure if that gives me an advantage or not.
The last pair, the tributes from 5, arrive; when the clock on the wall hits 10:00 precisely, a tall man wearing all black steps into the center of our circle, looking at all of us gravely.
"Welcome tributes. I am the head trainer, Titus. I would advise you to listen to what I have to say, because it will directly impact you and your survival. You will have three days to train and learn what you can. The training hours are from 10 until 6, and there will be a lunch break from 1 until 2 each day. On the third day you will present your skill of choice to the Gamemakers in a private session."
Titus stops there to make sure we all understand, then continues, "There are many different stations here; some will help with survival, others with combat. Train as your mentors have instructed. There are specialists at every station; if you wish to practice fighting, an assistant will be your partner. Fighting with other tributes is strictly prohibited. You are free to go."
With that, everyone scatters, a couple of the younger ones still standing unsurely in the middle. One younger girl who doesn't hesitate is the tall thirteen-year-old from District 8. I lose sight of her after a second, when I go straight for the edible plants, like Beetee told me to do.
The trainer at this station is a rather plain looking woman, but she's friendly enough to me. "Never eat any plant or berry that you don't know without a shadow of a doubt isn't poisonous. That's an easy way to get killed, poison is."
I nod, then take the plant and berry test that she offers me. I get over half of them wrong on the first try, but with practice and examining the different berries the woman presents to me, I end up getting most of them right. I'll come back here later to perfect it.
Thanking the trainer, I examine the room, trying to figure out where I should go next. As I expected, the Careers are all at the combat stations, showing off in front of the rest of us. I think I'll avoid combat until they get tired of it.
At the weightlifting station the boy from 8 is hoisting some impressive weights above his head. Next to that station is the wrestling mats, where the boy from 9 is practicing half-naked. I'll pass, thank you.
So, I avoid the more intensive stations for now, going instead to the fire-making station, where there is currently nobody there. Seems promising. I'm not one to team up with the others, like how the girl from 11 is currently doing with the boy from 6. I find her irritating, actually.
The trainer gives me flint, a small knife, and some tinder to strike the sparks into, then lets me go at it. I'm good enough with starting a fire with matches, since I've had to do it many mornings when the fire's gone out in the woodstove at home. But this is my first time trying with flint, and it's much harder.
The sparks don't seem to want to go where I want them to; they go everywhere else but the tinder. The trainer is patient, giving me gentle tips and letting me do it myself. Why won't the sparks go into the tinder?
Frustrated, I strike the flint wildly, about to throw it down. Of course, that's the moment my luck changes and two sparks land in the tinder. Dropping the flint, I carefully blow on the tiny flame, then add some larger twigs and other bits of fuel until the fire is blazing merrily in front of me. Sitting back on my heels, I allow myself a smile at my handiwork.
"Nice work," a girl says, coming to sit down next to me. My smile immediately fades, and I look blankly at the girl. Black hair in a braid, blue eyes, and skinny like me. This is the District 9 girl.
"I'm Tilling," she says by way of introduction, sticking out her hand. I take it reluctantly, shake it once, then pull away. "You did really well with lighting fires. What are you going to do next?"
"Why?" I ask, a little more hostilely than I intended. Her face flinches briefly, then goes back to normal, her eyes a little wider than before.
"I-I was wondering if you wanted to partner up. For today," she hurries to explain. "I haven't found anyone else who wants to."
That tells me two things: one, she wants to ally with me, and two, nobody else sees her as a viable ally. She's pretty, but doesn't have a chance in the Games. If I ally with her, I'll have no chance either.
"Sorry, I work solo," I say, standing up. Seeing that I'm going, the trainer pours sand over my little fire. Don't want the gymnasium in flames, do we?
Tilling's face falls, trying to mask the disappointment. "Alright, nice to meet you anyway," she says in a voice little more than a whisper.
"Likewise," I say, walking away. I think I'm ready to try the combat stations.
The Careers are all grouped around the spear throwing station, hooting and yelling at each other while they throw. The smaller girl from 2, Agrippina I think her name is, doesn't look like much but can throw a spear with accuracy at least fifteen feet. The boy from 1 throws even farther than that.
I'll just have to avoid them in the arena and hope they kill each other before they find me.
There's a tension in the room, like everyone is one step away from fighting with each other. I doubt that's a false observation, since half of the tributes are just waiting to get into the arena and kill. Predator and prey, that's what it is. I've seen it in school; the weak are picked upon and the strong and cruel are the ones who come out on top.
Well I can tell you now who the predators and prey are here. Number one on the prey list is the twelve-year-old from 5, who's opposite me trying to climb up a rope to the web stretching across the entire ceiling of the gymnasium. He doesn't have enough arm muscle to get more than two knots up before falling.
On the other hand, the top predators in this room are obviously the Careers, who have taken a break from murdering dummies and targets to laugh at the boy. He'll be an immediate target, a toy to play with before disposing of. I've seen it before in other Games. The weak go first and then the strong get to battle it out amongst themselves.
I'll be a strong one.
At 1:00, a bell rings signaling it's time for lunch. The Careers drop their weapons, leaving them to clatter on the ground as they rush to be first out the door. I follow along behind them, allowing the eighteen-year-old from 6 to go in front of me as a buffer between me and them. Mariana, that's what the girl's name is in front of me.
The dining hall is across a corridor leading down from a set of elevators. It's a large room, though not as large as the gymnasium, and it's full of tables that could fit four people easily. Along one side, by the doors, is a long buffet table full of food, and plates at one end. The Careers have already grabbed a plate each and are going through the different dishes provided.
Mariana is in front of me, but we grab a plate at the same time, not even acknowledging each other as we do so. She doesn't look as though she's wanting an ally, so that suits me fine. Going through the buffet, I pick out rice, mixed vegetables, a stew with lamb chunks, and a tiny cake for dessert. My plate is full when I go to sit down.
I carefully calculate where I sit, because I don't want to be one of the timid and frightened ones that will quietly sit on the outskirts, but I don't want to sit near the Careers either, who have pulled two tables together so they can all sit with one another. I settle for a table a few away from them, near Mariana, who's sitting alone at the table in front of me.
The other tributes trickle in, getting their food and sitting down; it gives me a chance to learn who the alliances are, and who the strong and weak may be.
As predicted, the twelve-year-old from 5, Kiril from 7, Tilling, and Circuit take tables on the outskirts, marking them as the weakest. The girl from 8 sits down alone in the middle of the room, holding her head high. Despite her age, I don't mark her as weak.
For the alliances, there's the Careers, obviously. While I shovel stew into my mouth, I study them and how they work. The boy from 1, Cloak, is evidently trying to assert himself as the leader of the group, but the boy from 4, Shire or whatever his name is, also wants to be the leader. I've studied people all my life, trying to figure out who to trust.
Turns out, I've been able to trust nobody but my family.
The boy and girl from 2 don't appear to be fighting for the position of leadership, but they are both very, very dangerous. Especially the girl. They would do well not to trust her. And as for the girl from 4, she's the weakest of all of them. Even the girl from 1 seems more capable.
I turn my attention away from the Careers, letting them fight it out; instead I look to see what other alliances have sprung up. Most of the tributes are sitting alone, like I am, but there are some exceptions.
The boy from 6 and Nell from 11 seem to have started an alliance, as they're sitting together and laughing. And in a move I didn't expect, Hazel from 5 and Fissure from 12 have struck up an alliance, though they seem hesitant around each other.
After watching the others for a few minutes more, I study my food until the lunch bell rings and I have to leave my empty tray behind.
Back in the gymnasium, the Careers have decided to visit the obstacle course, leaving the combat stations free. A couple other tributes have noticed their absence as well, and are picking up weapons for likely the first time in their lives. I push past them, straight to the axes. There're four different sections to the axe station, where each cage-like section has a target in it. The pretty girl from 7 is already there, throwing axes with alarming precision.
The girl looks over at me, wary, but not afraid. Evidently, she can use a weapon, and with how pretty she is she'll pull lots of sponsors.
She's one to watch out for.
The trainer has me take my place in front of the target, axe in hand. "Hold it gently," he says, helping me get my grip on the handle. "Bring it back over your head, then bring your arms forward, releasing the axe at eye level. Do you have that?"
I nod, adjusting my grip gingerly. Breathing out, I throw the axe, sending the top of the blade into the top of the board.
The trainer says, "Good first try. Step a little closer to the board; you over-rotated. And aim a little lower."
My next attempt is better, and after four more shots with the axe I hit the center. Then the trainer has me practice one-handed; first with my right, then with my left, until I can hit the center board consistently.
"Well done, miss," the trainer says, shaking my hand. My arms ache, but it's a good ache. "I'll let you train on your own now; if you need help, you need only ask." He walks over to the next section, where the girl from 12 is bouncing the axe handle off the target every throw.
"You throw well," the girl from 7 says, startling me. She's come around from her section into mine, hands clasped in front of her. She looks like a fairy or an elf; something mystical like that. Her blonde hair is so long that even in braids it hangs below her waist. Pointed face, large purple-blue eyes- like I said, she'll pull all the sponsors.
Which means she might not be the worst ally to have.
"Thank you," I say, folding my arms across my chest.
"Elowyn," she says, sticking out a pale hand to me. I shake it hesitantly, then go back to crossing my arms.
"Astrid."
"I've seen you around today; you're obviously capable. Are you looking for an ally?" she asks, and I see myself briefly in her eyes. She's calculating too, and I can tell she's clever.
"I wasn't," I reply honestly. We don't take our eyes off each other; we're both studying one another. Trying to figure out who the other is. "It might change. What can you do?"
"Training's over in an hour," Elowyn points out, glancing up at the clock. Was I really throwing axes for three hours? No wonder my arms hurt. "Let's meet up tomorrow morning and see if we can't work something out."
"Alright."
"I'll see you around then, Astrid," Elowyn says, smiling at me for the first time. Then, as the short and slow boy from 10 approaches, looking to do some axe throwing, she leaves, wandering away towards the survival stations.
For the last hour, I go back to the fire-starting station and practice making a fire with flint again. It doesn't take as long this time, but it's infinitely more annoying because the unsmiling girl from 10 is at that station too, quietly and solemnly starting a fire quicker than me. It's a relief when the bell rings, signaling the end of the day.
"We will see you tomorrow, tributes; 10:00 sharp!" Titus yells from across the gymnasium. I doubt the Careers even heard him, they left so quickly. The rest of us have to wait for the elevator, because the six of them took it up together. Circuit comes and finds me, standing next to me silently and looking at the floor.
Once the elevator comes down again, I'm pushed along with Circuit into it, followed by the tributes from 5. Neither of them has made much of an impact on me so far; the boy is short, blonde, and bloodbath material; the girl is short, skinny, and mousy.
The doors open on 3 quickly; Circuit and I leave the two others behind as the doors close and the elevator continues its journey upwards.
Beetee's waiting at the door, face serious as usual. "Welcome back. Circuit, you go ahead and change for supper. I want to talk to Astrid first." Circuit doesn't question it, just walks off towards the corridor leading to the bedrooms.
"Tell me what you did today," Beetee says, turning to me once my district partner's gone.
"Like you told me to, I worked on the edible plants, fire-starting with a flint, and axes."
"Were you good at any of those things?" His forehead is furrowed, making him look older than his twenty-two years.
"Passable at the edible plants; I intend to go back to that station tomorrow; I got better with the flint the second try, and I'm good at the axes. The trainer had me throw them with both hands, and I got close to the center almost every time."
"Good, good," Beetee says, relaxing slightly. He must be relieved that one of his tributes isn't bloodbath material. I'm showing him I have a chance. "What about alliances?"
"I prefer to go solo, but Elowyn from 7 and I are going to see about each other as allies tomorrow."
"Is she good with any weapons?"
"Excellent with an axe," I say. Beetee nods his approval.
"You've done well, Astrid. Use your next two days wisely."
Then Beetee walks away, leaving me by the door to the elevators, presumably off to talk to Circuit.
I'm going to show Beetee, I'm going to show the Careers; I'm going to show all of District 3 that I am not one to be underestimated. I am going to be the victor of the Hunger Games, and nothing they can say or do will be able to stop me.