Morning comes all too suddenly, and a part of her wishes that she had not succumbed to sleep at all so she could experience a few moments more of her final days. The vodka induced headache luckily is quelled by some mysterious tablets provided by the minibar, and she figures she just has to put up with the ache between her thighs. It feels silly in the cold light of day: the gossiping, the giggling, the sex. It's as if yesterday was just her deluding herself that anything that was important in her old life has any relevance anymore.

Training has become monotonous without Betty at her side. She continues making her way through the rest of the weapons, she decides using a sling might be more harmful to herself than anyone else, can barely pick up an axe and her spear bounces off the arm of the dummy she was aiming at.

Admitting defeat, she slinks back to the knife section as that was the thing she was the least bad at. The trainer helps her with the blade again, shows her some more advanced moves that she can use to hurt while getting away fast enough to not be hurt back, he then shows her where the major arteries are on a body and how to cause the most damage to them. That, she thinks, she can do (provided her victims remain as still as the dummy), it's all about technique, lodging the pointy end in just the right place – she's made enough dresses to do that.

She stays there for a while, practicing and is almost feeling good about it until Heather Chandler, the tough Career from District 2, comes up, pushes her aside without even glancing at her, grabs three throwing knives, closes her eyes and hits the dummy several metres away without even looking like she was trying.

The trainer breaks into a grin he's never shown her, "Bravo!"

Veronica quickly walks away, making sure no one else sees the dread that paints her face as the reality sinks in. There's only a couple of hours left of training, she still can't fight for shit and, even though the thought of the arena makes her feel sick, part of her can't wait for it to be over.

She sees Betty and Dennis back over at the plant section and goes over to join them. She and Betty are still as useless as each other at identifying the different leaves, but Dennis can tell by the angle of a curve which to eat and which to stay far away from. He shares the information with both of them freely, helps them when they muck up, cracks jokes to lighten the mood. Slowly she improves.

Betty has been more subdued all morning, replying and laughing when invited, but not really volunteering her own comments. So it's a surprise when she suddenly says "We could survive like this, couldn't we? Outlive the Careers by knowing what's edible. We could live like that for a while."

Dennis and Veronica look at each other, not sure what to say. Because no, that wouldn't make good TV for the Capitol. Get too quiet and they set traps, unleash muttations or lead the Careers to you, and even if it did work, would that not just mean they'd have to kill each other at the end?

Betty smiles sadly at their doubtful faces, "I know. But just imagine it though, a world where we could all live together off the land, farming just enough food to feed ourselves and not having to give most of it away to the..." she trails off.

All Veronica can do is grasp the hand of the friend she can already feel is slipping into helpless despair, "That would be beautiful."

Friendships, trust, are different here she realises. It's limited, any bond here is. Anyone, no matter how much you liked them, could betray you if the choice came between you and them. But somehow this makes you relish the time you have, the final connections you can make with the only people who can still understand you. One way or another you may lose them tomorrow, so for today, you cling onto them as tightly as possible.

Then the bell rings for lunch, and any chance for practice is gone.

xxx

Without the clang of weapons and the overzealous grunts of Careers that fill the Training Hall, it's clear that Betty's not the only one in the canteen who is more subdued. It's finally properly dawned on the tributes that their days left on Earth can probably be counted on their fingers. That in three days, the people they've been talking and laughing with will become their deadliest enemies.

She funnels in as much food as she can stomach, but the rich, almost unimaginable, flavours offered by the Capitol's meals feel like cardboard in her mouth. Betty beside her is moving food around her plate, without even bothering trying to eat it, and when the dessert cart comes hardly anyone gets up to go to it. Across the room, the Career table is boasting about what scores they'll get, but even there they are less rumbustious, the wine on their table is untouched.

All too soon the dessert cart is pulled away and a line of what is unmistakably the Gamemakers, walk past them and through a large set of double doors that immediately slam shut. The chatter in the room quietens to mumbles and remains so for a few minutes until she hears the crackle of a loudspeaker.

"You will enter the testing room through the double doors as you are called. Please be prepared to show the Gamemakers the best of your talents. What you show inside will remain secret but you will be scored between 1 and 12. These scores will be presented to Panem tonight. May the odds be ever in your favour," then a pause, "Ram Sweeny, District 1."

Such is the tension in the room she could swear even Ram looks slightly nervous as he strides across the room and disappears through the doors.

Betty scoots over so she is right beside her, leans her head against her shoulder and entangles their hands together. Veronica squeezes back, it eases her shaking. Betty slips her other hand into Rodney's so Veronica reaches out to Peter. As Dennis joins hands with Peter and Rodney, there are five of them, holding each other's hands, as if in a prayer circle, as the first four Careers are slowly called, hoping, at least for this second, that they will do the impossible and all survive.

"Peter Dawson, District 3," says the voice, emotionlessly.

Peter grimaces and reluctantly untangles himself.

"Good luck," they all mutter, and the moment is broken.

Even so, Betty and Veronica lean against each other until Betty's name is called.

The lunch hall is deadly silent once the Careers have left, except for the footsteps of a few tributes pacing the room, even Brad seems somewhat subdued in the knowledge that the decision made today could change the entire trajectory (and length) of his life.

Rodney is called straight after Heather Duke, so Veronica and Dennis sit beside each other, close but not touching, occasionally looking around at the other tributes but not at each other.

Across the room, Martha is muttering to herself and the little girl from 10 is quietly crying. JD has returned to what he was doing in the lunch hall the day she met him, observing them all with a neutral curiosity, his eyes flickering towards her a little more than they statistically should. She turns away so he can't catch her eye, she's got more important things to worry about than being distracted by him.

"Al Springer, District 6."

She wonders whether she'd be allowed to sneak back into the Training Hall, there seems like so many things she didn't try, so many questions she didn't ask the trainers. She wishes she had a pen so she could write them down to ask Cecilia and Garfunkel later.

"Cathy Hophead, District 7."

She eyes up the wine still on the table, and spends a long time debating the urge to take a huge gulp, but ultimately decides the lack of coordination would probably not be worth any courage it might give her.

"Brad Richards, District 8."

Brad gets to his feet and, to her surprise, nods at her before walking with what might be confidence towards the door.

She is next. How long do the sessions take? Ten? Fifteen minutes? There's no clock in the room and she didn't think to count before.

Each second takes forever but also passes instantaneously.

"Veronica Sawyer, District 8."

She gets up, trying to remember how to place one foot in front of the other. Dennis gives her a grim smile in support, while across the room JD simply stares with mild interest.

No one can kill you, not yet, she reminds herself, but honestly facing the Gamemakers, who are defining her entire life by a number between 1 and 12, feels like a death sentence just as brutal as the reaping.

At the reaping, the odds had been in her favour and she had still lost, here they distinctly are not.

xxx

The atmosphere in the testing room is the opposite of the one in the cafeteria next door. Here, the Gamemakers are heartily enjoying their feast, drinking deeply, not a care in the world, not even for the girl who has just entered the room. It seems like she's the only one aware that they are about to decide the trajectory of her life.

It hits her suddenly that, after spending several days hanging around with her inevitable murderers, the people in front of her are worse. They'll never touch her, not physically, but they are her killers, even more so than the ones who will happily plunge a knife into her heart.

In a way it's good they're not paying attention to her, she can barely stand their eyes on her at all.

Nevertheless, they may also be the key to her survival, so instead she introduces herself, shoots them a coy smile (which seems to get the attention of a few of the older male Gamemakers), and then selects a knife. She does her best to display everything she's just been taught, plunging the knife into the dummy where various arteries would be located, like she's making boots and fighting a particularly stubborn piece of leather.

By the time she's done, the dummy has a lot of holes and a slit throat. She just hopes the Gamemakers don't take the fact the dummy would be harder to kill if it was fighting back into account. She runs a couple of laps to prove she's able to run away, just in case.

And then it's over. She's dismissed as suddenly as she arrived.

xxx

Dinner is a quiet affair. And by that she means Pauline tries to make it as loud an affair as possible, but even Brad seems distracted. She wonders if he, like her, is replaying his moves in front of the Gamemakers again and again, wondering what he could have done better.

Probably not, that would require more brain power than he possesses.

Pauline, in her excitement, switches the TV on fifteen minutes early, so they are forced to endure a series of mindless interviews with Capitol celebrities (God knows what they're famous for, even if the shows they're in were on in District 8 she would have made a point to never watch them), as they go on and on about what they're going to wear for the pre-Games parties.

By the time the scoring starts, she's almost looking forward to it.

As always, it goes by order of districts, so she gets the joy of seeing the Career's shiny scores before her own disappointment.

And sure enough, Ram Sweeny and Heather McNamara from District 1 get a 10 and 9 respectively. David Remington from District 2 also gets a 10. Heather Chandler, however, gets an 11. Pauline gasps and Brad gives a low whistle, an 11 is unusually high, even for Careers, the girl is deadly.

There is a brief interlude in the Careers for District 3 where she sees Peter get a far less remarkable 5 and, heart sinking, sees that Betty has got a 4, before remembering the girl had pretty much signed her death warrant anyway by refusing to kill.

Kurt Kelly, the male Career from 4, gets a 9 but Heather Duke only gets an 8. Not bad by any means, but it signals her out as the lowest of the Careers, Veronica imagines she's cursing herself for that result.

She watches silently as the TV shows the pictures and scores for the tributes from 5, 6 and 7, vaguely noting Rodney's 5, she holds her breath. They are next.

Brad's face flashes up on the screen along with his number, and Pauline shrieks, "An 8! An 8! That's as good as the Careers! Oh, you'll go so far Brad, I'm so proud of you."

To Brad's credit, he looks as embarrassed as he should when Pauline hugs him.

Her score flashes up next. A 6. It's not Brad's 8, so Pauline barely spares her a glance, but it's perfectly respectable – she'll probably get a sponsor or two from that.

Cecelia rests a hand on her shoulder, "Well done Veronica," she says, "it's a promising score."

She's probably pandering to her a bit, but she's grateful. Still, she doesn't take her eyes off the TV, as it flicks through a few more unremarkable scores, she's waiting for the only one that she really cares about.

Finally, JD's face flashes up on the screen, she holds her breath, waiting for the score to follow. It's a 5. Less than hers (though far better than his district partner's 2 that flashes up next). She should feel relieved, but all her brain is doing is playing her every time a low scorer won the Games. It's well known the scores aren't very good at judging endurance, or intelligence. A score like that and you're less likely to have people buy you gifts in the arena but you're under the radar, the Careers won't bother with you, which can easily work to your favour if you know how to use it – and she's sure that he does. In fact, she wouldn't have put it past him to have downplayed his skills to deliberately get this outcome.

Somewhere, back in the living room, she hears the pop of a champagne cork. Pauline hands a flute to Brad and then one to her.

"To a District 8 victory!" she cries, far too jovially for one whose tributes received middlingly good scores, but Veronica smiles weakly and downs it anyway.

There's some relief in having it all over with. One more aspect of her ever-shortening life that she can't worry about changing. That's it, she's trained, judged and with more than two whole days to rest her weary muscles until they are put to the test. There's nothing she can do to help herself anymore, she may as well enjoy being prettied up and interviewed, all the while living in the most luxury she's ever experienced.

She takes another sip of champagne and tries to forget about what is to come.


The Capitol presents the Training scores for the 89th Annual Hunger Games

District 1

Heather McNamara – 9

Ram Sweeny – 10

District 2

Heather Chandler – 11

David Remington – 10

District 3

Betty Finn – 4

Peter Dawson – 5

District 4

Heather Duke – 8

Kurt Kelly – 9

District 5

Shannon Lucas – 6

Rodney Bulb – 5

District 6

Cathy Stone – 3

Al Springer – 5

District 7

Tracy Hophead – 3

Bobby Young – 3

District 8

Veronica Sawyer – 6

Brad Richards – 8

District 9

Courtney Chadwick – 7

Keith Harrington – 6

District 10

Shelly Little – 2

Dennis Grundy – 5

District 11

Phyllis McCarthy – 6

Dwight Archer – 4

District 12

Martha Dunstock – 2

Jason Dean – 5


A little less action this chapter, but trust me, this is all set up for when all hell breaks loose, which isn't far away now…

Some important shit goes down in the next chapter too so look out for that :D

Also, I am planning on doing NaNoWriMo this year (write a 50,000 word novel in November), which I'm very excited about. I'm going to do a Heathers sequel that is also a murder mystery, which I think will be a lot of fun. I have it all planned out so hopefully I will finish and publish when I'm done.