THE SEVENTH HUNGER GAMES

Gennaia Tolmos

District Eight

Smooth marble, firm under my fingertips. The salty taste of sweat dripping down my face, on my lips. I press my cheek against the cool stone, breathing hard. In the twilight, the city sprawls in every direction, on and on, right up into the foothills. Only the mountains stop the creeping spread, an indomitable wall reaching right up into the clouds. Someday I'll climb them too, and then I'll see the whole world.

For now, though, it's all I can do to cling to this wall. A ledge juts out above me, but there's ten feet of unyielding stone between here and there. Anyone else would see a uniform plane, impossible to scale. But I've never had it in me to quit. Slowly, painstakingly, I edge my way up the wall, finding the little crevices and cavities in the rock. Inch by inch. Breath by breath. Every few minutes, I stretch out my right arm to measure how far to the ledge. My fingers cramp, my core burns, my thighs beg for relief. And I'm almost there.

This time, when I reach up, my fingertips brush stone, and I grab tight, leaning out from the wall in preparation to pull myself up and over. And when I lean, my foot slips, and then my left hand falters too, and it's all I can do to cling to the overhang with my right.

My eyes flick down in panic, watch tiny pieces of rubble fall to the street forty, fifty feet below. I refuse to join them. If I can just get over the ledge...the top is flat, no purchase, but there's a little railing anchored deep in the stone; I noticed it before, when I studied the climb. I swing my free foot back up to the wall and push off, propelling myself up. I grasp blindly for the railing I know is there, even if I can't see it, and suddenly I feel the spiral metal rods in my grip. The railing in one hand and the ledge in the other, I drag myself onto the small shelf and collapse on my back. Dizzy with adrenaline, I laugh at the clouds and moon and stars floating so far above me.

I've never felt so alive.

My hair whips around my face as the train speeds through the forest. It's chilly outside, but I'd rather be cold than cramped. Inside is gloom and grief and everything I don't want to feel. Saying goodbye was more than enough tears for me; if I only have a few days left, what good is it to waste it wishing things were different? Six Games have come and gone, and not once has pleading and begging and denying saved anyone's life, yet my partner Milo just sits and weeps. I couldn't take it any longer. So I came out here to escape.

I do understand how he feels. When the president called my name, for the first time in a long time, I couldn't brush it off. I just froze, throat closed up and fingers clenched, didn't even move until the girls around me started nudging. But after, the initial shock wore off and the ones I care about said they believed in me, and I remembered not to give up. Merina promised to keep cheering for me, just like she's always done, Helvetica made me swear not to jump to conclusions, and Cici told me to ignore Helvetica, to trust my instincts. And my parents told me to be careful, and I laughed. I've never been careful before; why should I start now?

There's a metal ladder welded to the side of the train, going all the way up to the top. I checked the roof earlier, but there's almost nothing to guard against the rushing wind and I quickly came back down. Now, I climb a few rungs, then release with one hand and let gravity do the rest, leaning out into the wind. It buffets my face and I feel cold tears forced from my eyes and stinging my cheeks. Beneath me, the ground races past, dirt and stone and grass and rail all disappearing into a shapeless blur of blue and green and black. I lean my head back and drink in the wind, shouting wildly into the night as it rushes past.

For a moment, I contemplate what would happen if I jumped off. Would anyone even notice? Maybe not. Part of me's tempted to try it, just to see what happens. Maybe I'll escape and go live in the wilderness, build a magnificent treehouse and live on squirrels and berries and rabbits, and never have to listen to anyone ever again. Or maybe they'd shoot me for jumping. Or maybe the fall would kill me.

I'm not quite ready to die. Not just yet. Besides, I'd get lonely. So I swing back in to the ladder, hop down, and head back inside. Guess I'll live another day.

Riley's been by my side since the beginning.

I didn't intend to have an ally. I wasn't against it, but I wasn't going out of my way to find one. I certainly wasn't expecting to find one before we even got to our rooms the first night. But Riley's from Seven and we were seated together at the welcome banquet, and we just hit it off. She's one of the tallest girls I've ever met, taller than both my brothers, with strong arms and blue eyes and long blonde hair that she always pulls back in a bun. She has Merina's sense of humor and Cici's practical mind, and it's made everything a little easier, having someone to rely on.

Our time in the Capitol sped by, just three days of lectures and training and testing, but each day we grew closer, and each night we whispered strategies and worries and promises. Then the days were gone, and the last night came and went, and suddenly we were in the arena. It's not much to look at, just a small farm, but thankfully plenty of food and water to keep us going.

As best as we can figure, we've been holed up in the southwest corner, in the woods by the orchard, near enough to get food but far enough to avoid frequent interactions with other groups. I wanted to head for the farmhouse or the barn up on the hill, but Riley pointed out that it was the only obvious shelter and would probably be crowded. And the one thing we were sure of was that we didn't want company.

So, we've been hiding out in these woods for two, coming on three, days now. I've found climbing a tree is significantly easier than climbing a stone wall, and so far no one's come deep enough into the woods to be a danger. The hardest part was learning how to sleep in a tree, since Riley thought it was too much of a risk to stay on the ground. I'm not normally a fan of all these plans and precautions, but it's kept us alive while sixteen others are dead, so I'm happy to let her make the rules.

The sun set several hours ago, and Riley fell asleep almost immediately while I took first watch. A cool breeze rustles the leaves in the surrounding trees and dances across my face. I pull my knife out and slide my finger down the blade, thinking about when I'll finally have to use it. Only eight left. And I'm one of them. Milo died on the first day, killed by the girl from Eleven, and Riley's partner died just a few hours ago. If either of us gets out, it'll be alone. Riley's said we need to split up, should've done it already, and she's probably right, but it's been so peaceful here in our little corner with fresh apples and clean water, and no one who wants to kill us. I don't want to leave. Not just yet.

I sit in silence for a bit longer, listening to the still-unfamiliar sounds of the woods, until it's time to switch. Riley wakes easily and climbs down to take my place, and I lay down across the branches and quickly fall into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow, I think.

Hours later, I'm awoken by the sound of rustling branches below me. At first, I think Riley's climbing up to wake me. But no, that doesn't make sense. It's too dark, the shadows still dancing around the leafy canopy above me. Riley always lets me sleep past sunrise, she would never come get me so early.

Unless this isn't Riley.

My mind begins to race, working faster than it has any right to, given I just woke up. If someone knows I'm up here, it means they found Riley below, and if I don't hear her trying to stop them...she's probably dead. Or gone, but I refuse to believe it. No, she must be dead, or close to it. But how? It's exactly why she chose to stay in the trees; it's hard to attack from below, easy to defend from above. Whoever this is would've had to climb up and get level with Riley before she realized they were there. But I just don't see how that could've happened.

Unless she fell asleep...and then they ambushed her. And now they want to do the same to me.

I've never felt fear like I do now. With uncharacteristic caution, I slide my hand down to my waistband, trying to get my knife out before they reach me. I'll let them think I'm still asleep, get level with me, and then I'll surprise them. And somehow, I'll kill them. I have to.

I wiggle the knife back and forth, very slowly, trying to work it out of the elastic without visibly disturbing the branches I'm laying on. Below me, I can hear the attacker climbing higher, getting closer. Finally, the knife is in my hand, resting on my chest. I curl my legs up under me, ready to sit up and spring as soon as they're in view. And then, I wait. And I listen.

And something's wrong.

As they get closer, I hear their breathing, heavy but controlled, someone used to exertion. I hear the way they climb, the confidence in each step, never faltering even as the branches begin to thin and the ground grows small below. I hear the small gasp when their footing slips, just once, and I hear the voice. I remember Riley's insistence all day that we needed to split up, before we had no other choice, that there was no more time to wait. And I remember Cici, during our goodbyes. Trust your instincts.

A chill seems to pass through my whole body. I don't want to believe it. But I clutch my knife tight, watching, waiting, listening, until a pale hand grabs the branch level with my face and a familiar blonde head appears in the gap. And I don't think; I just dive. My knife sinks into the back of her hand and lodges in the branch beneath, and she screams, a horrible sound that makes me want to stop but I can't, I need to get my knife out and kill her before she kills me. But it's stuck in the wood and it takes three pulls to finally get it out, and by then she's regained her wits enough to start slashing at me too. I try to climb away, to escape, but even with her injured hand, she's more comfortable in trees than I could ever hope to be and I can't move fast enough. And I know there's only one way I survive this.

I close my eyes. One deep breath. In. Out. Plant my feet, grab the limb above with both hands, and turn to face her. She's not expecting it, and she falters for just a moment, and that's all it takes. I brace myself against the trunk and the branches and kick forward with all my might. One foot lands on her shoulder and one squarely on her chest, pushing out and away. She drops her knife, reaches out, flails for something to hold onto, but finds nothing. And she falls.

I don't watch, but I hear the crash as she hits the ground several seconds later, and the unmistakable snap of her neck or her spine. Riley's dead, or she will be soon.

Leaning back against the tree to steady myself, I realize I'm crying. I try to breathe, to calm down, but that just makes it worse and soon I'm weeping, horrible shuddering sobs that seem to wrack my whole body. It feels like I stay in the tree for hours, releasing the pent-up tension and stress and fear that I hadn't even acknowledged until now. But finally the realization comes that her body's not going anywhere, and I can't stay hiding up here forever.

Seven remain. And I intend to be the last.

A bloody duel is drawing to a close across the barren field. The girl from Two put up a good fight, but it all ends when the Five boy stabs her straight in the eye, driving it deep until she falls to the ground. He retrieves the knife, wipes his hands, and turns to me.

It's just us. If I kill him, I go home – but I've got absolutely no way to do that.

I lost my knife back in the tree, when Riley died. I didn't realize until I'd already left the forest, but suddenly I noticed I couldn't feel the blade pressed against my hip, and sure enough, my knife had disappeared. How am I supposed to kill him without it? All I've got are my own two hands, and somehow that doesn't seem like enough.

The Five boy begins to chase towards me, so naturally, I run. But where? My mind races through the arena, trying frantically to think of a way I can beat him. Briefly, I consider the north side of the arena, thinking there might be some advantage I don't know about, but that's more likely to harm than help. Better to stick to what I'm already familiar with. The fields are barren, nowhere to hide and nothing to use. The orchard isn't barren, but again there's nowhere to hide and the only weapons I'd find there are sticks. The woods – Riley did drop her knife right before she fell, but what are the chances I could find it before he caught up? I could climb up and hide in one of the trees, hope he won't know where I've gone...no, that might've worked on the first day, but now there's no one else to kill, no reason for him to leave. I'd just be weaponless and stuck in a tree.

My breaths are coming harder, my calves burn from exertion. I don't dare to glance behind; I'm a fast runner, and confident that he's not gaining, but looking back will only slow me down. Where? Where am I going?

Merina would know. She's never been one to join in on my stunts, but she's got plenty of ideas and loves to do the unexpected. Or rather, watch me do it. What would Merina do? She'd find a weapon. I don't even really know how to fight, but at least if I had a weapon, any weapon...

I hear Merina's voice in my head. You didn't kill Riley with a weapon. And suddenly I know the answer. The only chance I can think of. Gravity.

I veer north, heading for a gravel path cutting through the fields and over the hill to the east. I don't remember exactly where the barn is, relative to everything else, but it was on a hill with a rocky trail leading away from it. The farm can't be more than a mile or two across; with any luck, there's only one path like that.

My feet ache as they slam into the rocks underneath. The morning clouds have dissipated, the day's finally heating up, and I can feel the sweat beading on my hairline. Sooner than I'd like, I hear crunching gravel behind me; Five is keeping pace. But in just a few minutes, I've crested the hill, and the barn and farmhouse are right where I'd expected. I race around the barn, looking for the way in, and find the massive red doors on the east wall. It takes a few tugs, each more desperate than the last, but finally they swing out and I dart inside.

The dimness of the barn is in stark contrast to the brightness outside. I blindly stumble in, pulling the door closed behind me, briefly entertaining the idea of trying to bar the door, but there's no time. I try to ground myself, wait a few seconds to allow my eyes to adjust, see the whole room. It's pretty much exactly what I'd expected, a large open space with several various pieces of farm equipment pushed against one wall. And on the other...

My heart leaps into my throat as I take in the stables, and the hayloft above. But immediately, the joy turns to despair. I've never been in a barn before, and I'd always assumed the haylofts were high in the sky; this isn't nearly as tall as I'd imagined, only about fifteen feet. I'd hoped to find a way to push him off and the fall would kill him, just like it did Riley, but that fall won't kill anyone – in fact, I bet I could jump off and walk away without a scratch. This won't work. What the hell do I do now?

I spin on my heel, looking around desperately for any other idea, and suddenly I hear the Five boy. He's right outside. In just a few seconds, he'll burst through those doors and kill me. My mind screams at me to hide, now. I bolt to the ladder, take it two rungs at a time, pull myself up into the loft. There's nothing to hide behind, no guard wall or furniture or bales of hay, and as the barn doors swing open, I throw myself flat against the wooden floor, praying the angle is steep enough he won't be able to see me from below.

Sunlight streams through the slits in the wooden roof above, beautiful but distracting. I hold myself completely still, hardly daring to even breathe, and close my eyes. Sounds are all I have, all I can use to gauge what's happening on the ground level. I hear straw crunching, scuffed footsteps, heavy, ragged breathing masking my own. In my mind, I can see him crossing the barn, looking under the farm equipment, opening each stall. Looking for me.

I feel like I'm back in the tree, unable to move or look or do anything but listen to Riley climb closer and closer. Just waiting for the end. Except this time, I know exactly what to expect. It's only a matter of time before he realizes I'm not down there, and comes up here. And this time, I have nothing to fight back with. Too late, my brain registers the several bodies scattered across the barn floor, the aftermath of a struggle for shelter, exactly like Riley predicted. Surely one of them would have a weapon nearby – but they're down there, and I'm stuck up here.

I can't think of anything else to do. Merina and Cici would have ideas, Riley would know what to do, but they're not here. They're not the ones who are about to die. I have to figure this out on my own, or else I'll have made it this far for nothing. I'll join Riley and Milo and all the others and it won't matter that I killed her, it won't matter that I survived 22 other tributes. I'll be just as dead as the rest of them.

Unbidden, a quiet sob escapes before I can stop it, though Five doesn't seem to hear. It's not fair. I've always been able to escape my problems. Nothing ever seemed so important when I was scaling the Justice Building or hanging off a speeding train, the whole world reduced to only what I can touch and see and smell. Not even the Games. Until last night, I was able to avoid the reality of the arena, hiding in the trees with Riley, and only after her death was I forced to confront the horror of my situation. And now, cornered in a hayloft with nothing to defend myself and nowhere to hide...now, I see the inescapable truth.

I can't run from this.

A wild thought comes to mind, reckless and desperate and entirely without sense. But it's all I've got. When I hear Five enter another stall, I roll to my side, then my stomach, and push myself up to a crouch. The barn opens below me, farther than I'm really comfortable with, but I really have no other choice. What did I think before? I bet I could jump off and walk away without a scratch. Time to put that to the test.

Slightly to my left, almost directly below me, I see a stall door open and Five walks out. I want to wait, to delay. Let him keep looking. Give me a few more seconds to gather my courage. I'm scared of the fall, scared of the landing, scared of the pain, scared of what will happen if this doesn't work. I'm so scared of the end. But I have to do this, before he looks up, before I lose my only advantage. So I shake my head, take one last breath, steel my nerves...

And jump.

For a moment, I'm frozen in midair, nothing above or below, falling fast. I think my heart skips a beat, and then we collide. I land practically on top of him, one arm wrapping around his shoulders from behind as my momentum takes us both to the ground. We both cry out as we crash to the floor. Pain shoots through my hand when my knuckles slam into the hardwood, and I think I may have broken a finger or two, but other than that I seem relatively unhurt. Certainly much better off than Five, who took the brunt of the impact, being on the bottom. If I had to guess, I'd say he broke his wrist trying to catch himself, and maybe his nose, after his wrist gave out and he hit face first.

It's all over in seconds. I was prepared for the fall, he wasn't, and before he's even figured out what just happened, I've grabbed his knife with my unhurt hand. I don't hesitate to drive it directly into the back of his neck. When I pull it out moments later, blood pours out, far too fast, and no matter what he does, it won't stop. I discard the knife at the barn door and walk outside, leaving him inside to bleed out alone.

A chilly breeze blows across the hill, the grass waving and dancing as the air whips past. I drop to my knees, waiting for the announcement, and I begin to cry. But then my sobs turn to laughter, uncontrolled and crazed, and soon I'm splayed out across the ground, the clouds racing past as I laugh hysterically. I laugh so hard, I can barely breathe, but I am breathing. I'm still breathing. The grass tickling my ears, the tears on my face, the throbbing of my fingers, the blood on my hands. They are all proof of my survival. Against all the odds, I am alive.

My whole life, I have known that to climb is to succeed, while to fall is to fail. To start over. To lose something, elevation or status or dignity or happiness. To give up. To bruise and bloody and break. It's something to be avoided at all costs. Something to be feared. Until today.

I jumped. I fell.

And I survived.

A/N:
Oops I forgot to do this. This one-shot is my contribution to the SYOT Verses Victor Exchange, an amazing idea conceived and run by Anya (glimmerglint). For my APR readers, I will say that Gennaia is part of the APR Verse, and if I ever get past CO, she will be making appearances in the future.

Thank you so much to lexi486 for submitting Gennaia, I love her very much! I know there are a lot of little details from the form that didn't end up making it into this particular story, but believe me that I loved all of those details and they really helped bring her to life in my mind, and I plan to incorporate some of those aspects when we see her again. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!

Love,
Opti