Eltara Vetirara, District Two (18)
It was almost insulting to be in these Games. Neither of the Tributes from One were trained. My partner Nero was an oaf who pulled the wings off flies. Mist should have been in a hospital, not the Arena. Dath was the only one who could have given me any trouble. Which was why I killed him in the Bloodbath.
The Games passed almost as quickly as the water Arena. I focused on the older Tributes, one after another, and let the dogs take the younger ones. I wanted to win, not kill kids, and I was content to let the mutts do the dirty work. Every night I climbed on top of the Cornucopia and waited for the howls, the screams, and the cannons.
It was lonely being the only Career. From the moment I joined the Academy, I'd been part of one clique or another. We were competing, but there was bound to be some camaraderie. We talked trash about the Academy in One. We speculated on who our partners would be and which of us would crack under pressure and turn into a bitter, washed-up instructor. I'd expected to be part of a pack, like most Careers, and it was strange to be on my own in the dark, spooky Arena. At night I would look up at the cloudy sky and wonder if it was really cloudy or if it was just a projection on a force-field. It was like living in a bottle, or more accurately, on a microscope slide.
I was glad to see Beth's face in the sky after a stretch of howls in the night. I wasn't afraid of her, but she was unstable. Fights with her kind were ugly. I wasn't worried at all about Mist. She had the intent, but she didn't have the rationality. Her cannon came in the daytime, and I suspected she simply dehydrated. The boogeyman was no more. I was the boogeyman now.
The faces blurred as I cut down Tributes. The little girl from Ten. The mobster boy from Three. The ugly boy from Twelve. Most little more than ciphers who offered only token resistance. I didn't want to tempt fate, but deep down, I wished I could have one real battle. Winning was hardly anything to brag about under these circumstances.
I forgot about Frankie's bow, and that almost did me in. When an arrow thudded into the ground inches from my feet, I had to flee back to the Cornucopia like a little girl. I was about to strap on the heavy-duty body armor when I had a better idea.
When Frankie next crossed paths with me, he saw I had a helmet on. He switched his target to my torso, and I staggered convincingly as the arrow hit the vest I'd put on under my shirt. I followed the arrows back to Frankie as he lay hidden in a crevice, shooting more arrows at me and waiting for me to inevitably collapse. By the time he was close enough to see I wasn't bleeding, I was close enough to see him and throw my spear.
After only one real battle, the Games were over. I went back over the events as I waited for the hovercraft. There was my tussle with Dath at the Bloodbath, a few hairy encounters with some of the tougher outliers like Farlan, and Frankie. It wasn't much to brag about. I was glad I won and I wasn't one of those people who courted death so they could say they cheated it, but it was a bit underwhelming.