Adair Outridge, District Five
This was not what the Gamemakers had in mind. Really they should have seen it coming. If you send a bunch of rat mutts, who's going to run away? Scared untrained outliers. Who's going to fight them? Proud aggressive Careers. So who are the rats going to pile onto and kill in heaps? The Careers. Five minutes into the Games the only Career left was Alex. He would have been a shoo-in for Victor if he wasn't wounded too. I didn't think he'd survive the night when I looked back and saw him in the distance still swinging wildly with his left arm while his right arm lay dangling from his side by a strip of flesh.
On the second day I was rummaging through a pile of trash when it started to shake under me. I fell on my backside just as the hole opened up and I saw Ryker digging on the other side.
"Did… you find anything?" I managed after we both stared at each other in terror for a moment.
"Some moldy tomatoes," he said. "You?"
"Some stale bread," I said.
Another pause.
"Maybe we could make pizza?" Ryker asked. So instead of killing each other we allied.
Most of the Games never made it on the broadcast. There was a lot of footage of kids searching through garbage for food or sleeping or sitting around conserving energy. Ryker and I mostly ate and hid. Even together there was no one I really wanted to fight.
"What are you going to do if you win the Games?" Ryker asked as we were looking up at the stars one night.
"I dunno." I turned to the side.
"What's your deal?" Ryker asked, not rudely. For some reason- I guess because I had nothing left to lose- I decided to let it all out.
"I don't deserve to win," I said.
"As much as anyone else," Ryker said.
"No, you don't get it. I don't deserve it." I poured out the whole story about the fight and how Yago died and how I hadn't stopped Bennett.
"That's not your fault. You can't help it some crazy guy came out with a knife," Ryker said.
"I can help that I didn't stop him," I said. There was nothing Ryker could say that I hadn't tried to tell myself. I'd carried it for years and I would carry it for the rest of my life. But it was nice of him to try.
I hardly even noticed when we made it to the final three. In all the chaos of the first few hours I'd lost count of how many cannons there were. Near the end I wasn't sure if I'd dropped one or gained one. It was Ryker who did the math and confirmed that Alex was the only one left with us. It would have taken him weeks to find us if the Gamemakers hadn't arranged for us to receive a "sponsor" gift that descended far more slowly and loudly than normal.
Even with one arm Alex could take us both on. Ryker and I were reduced to throwing things and trying to get in Alex's way before he could kill the other. But he was stronger and a better fighter and I hardly saw him moving before his knife was in Ryker's chest. A second after I swung my pipe at his head and just like that he was dead. He was dead and I was kneeling over Ryker trying desperately to stop the blood. I shoved my shirt against his wound and screamed for help and watched him fade away.
It was only later, in the Capitol, that I realized what it meant. I wasn't able to save Ryker but I'd done everything I could. It even out, in a way, what had happened. I'd gone through it a second time and failed again and at last learned my lesson. I hadn't been able to stop Alex from killing Ryker. But I hadn't killed him. I'd been forced into the situation and hadn't had the skills or supplies to save him. I hadn't been able to save him but I'd done everything I could. And it wasn't my fault.