Time to get to know some characters we haven't seen much of yet…

A very mild trigger warning for dubious consent towards the end of this chapter, it's not graphic and nothing worse than what's in the movie tbh though.


A cannon startles her awake. Instantly she is alert, scrabbling so she can see out of the bush and reaching for the stones in her pocket, which are the closest thing she has to a weapon. After a few moments of silence though, she realises that the Careers must be hunting elsewhere, as there is no sign of them nearby. The sunrise in the distance confirms that they have started as early as possible, much too early for her liking.

Still, if they are up then she must be too, despite her lack of sleep last night. She has a little food left from yesterday, which she cautiously nibbles but it only seems to make her hungrier. She debates trying out her pitiful plant identifying skills by eating berries but decides she's not desperate enough to risk death just yet. She can make a satisfying net though, and there are plenty of vines. Perhaps if she could find a stream she may be able to catch some fish.

That of course, requires water, a valuable commodity and an easy place for the Careers to lie in wait for victims. She tries to put this thought to the back of her mind and spends the first part of her morning weaving a net while she properly wakes up. It's relaxing, almost like mucking around with threads back at home, although at home she doesn't tend to jump and drop everything any time the wind rustles through the trees.

When she has finished, the sun is much higher in the sky. She gets up and looks around for the stream she passed yesterday, but finding yesterday's path is difficult when every damn tree looks the same. She walks briskly but does not run. She's pretty sure the Capitol are up now and she doesn't want to waste her energy just in case the Gamemakers decide she's the ideal candidate for some mid-morning entertainment.

After several hours of wandering, in what she hopes is not just a big circle, she starts to regret her idea. Her stomach is rumbling more than ever, her mouth is starting to get dry, she feels the edge of a headache coming on and still she seems no closer to her goal. She gives in, eats the rest of her food and takes another big sip of her water, praying this isn't a mistake that will cost her her life.

She walks further and further into the endless woodland until something sloshes against her feet. Mud! And from mud, there must be water! She stops walking, stands quietly for a minute… there, that way! She can hear the rushing of a stream. She moves closer, pushing through vines and reeds, the sound getting ever louder. And there it is, visible in the distance. Water! She almost runs as she goes towards it and…

A loud rustle and a piercing scream breaks through the sound of splashing on rocks. Immediately, she takes off in the other direction, only for her heart to sink as she sees two large figures lumber towards her, one strikingly familiar.

Brad, she barely has time to think, before cursing and turning right round.

The screams only get louder as the net slips out of her fingers as she rushes away from the most immediate danger. The stream, that moments ago had been her friend, now blocks her from going in any other direction. She can hear footsteps getting ever closer behind her and hopes desperately the screams have drowned out her own clumsy stumbling.

She finally finds a bush in the undergrowth large enough to hide in, and dives in, trying to be quiet while the cries vibrate in her ears and the footsteps must be moments away. She's sure her heart is thumping loud enough for them to hear her by now.

The footsteps cease. And for one heart-stopping moment, she's sure they have found her.

But, when she dares to look out through the bushes, Brad and the other tribute, whom she now recognises as David, are not looking at her. Instead, they are looking at three struggling figures in a net, bigger but not unlike her own, which has been lifted a couple of metres in the air. Inside are the three Heathers, suddenly rendered helpless, their own weapons out of reach.

"Afternoon ladies. What a pleasure to see you hanging about here." David sniggers at his own joke.

Obviously David has decided the best way to get rid of competition is to get rid of the tribute who scored higher than him, and a couple of her allies, while they're still supposed to be working together. Brad probably just can't believe his luck that he gets to be a part of it.

God, she can only imagine just how smug Pauline will be at the moment and how many sponsors Brad is going to get from this.

Heather McNamara seems to be the source of most of the screaming, while Heather Duke just seems furious, hissing insults and elaborate curses with the odd sprinkling of, "Traitor," mixed in.

Heather Chandler though is quieter, ignoring her fellow captives, even her captors, and is instead looking around, for somewhere, anywhere, to escape.

Veronica watches carefully as Heather Chandler follows David's movements, desperately seeing if he'll make a mistake, and then, in an instant, Heather's frantic eyes lock onto hers. They are softer than she's expecting, they're frightened, pleading.

She's scared of dying, she realises, she's happy to kill, competent and strong, excellent at fighting, but she's terrified of what will happen if she fails. And somehow Veronica feels a pang of pity for the girl.

That's not to say that, if Heather does escape, she won't make it her first mission to track down and viciously kill a girl who ignored her when she thought she would die.

And might she survive? The weapons cannot be far out of reach, and David, chuckling softly as he takes his sweet time getting out a long knife, seems to have forgotten who he is dealing with.

The decision is made so quickly that she's not sure she has thought about it at all (because surely if she had she'd have dismissed it as idiocy.) She stands up, shouts and throws a rock at David's head.

It's not the most graceful move, and the impact would at best give David a bruise, but the distraction is enough for Heather to grab the knife straight from his hand to free herself and the other Heathers. The moment they hit the ground, they are back up again, weapons drawn. Brad is smart enough to sense the danger and flee but David waits a moment too long and they descend on him, knocking him to the ground, circling round him, hacking.

By the time the cannon fires and they retreat he's not really recognisable.

One Career down.

It's only then she realises how stupid she's been for leaving her feet glued to the floor, simply staring at the scene of a murder. The three girls turn to her.

"I'll just be going…" Veronica says, even though she knows it's in vain.

"I wouldn't." Heather Chandler's knife is still dripping with blood.

"Fair point. Um… I don't suppose I could join you?" The words sound so stupid that she's sure half the viewers are laughing, but it's not like she has anything to lose.

Surprisingly, Heather takes her at face value, huh, maybe she is grateful I saved her life. She walks around her, looking her over and she is reminded of a lion circling its prey. Veronica stays silent, staring straight ahead, doing her best not to betray any sign of fear. She's at her mercy now and nothing she can do will change that.

"You were fast," she concedes, "and quiet. And not a bad shot, how good are you with weapons?"

Somehow, with her life at stake, she feels like she can't be anything but honest. "I'm not bad with knives, we use them to cut fabrics back home, so I know how to press to cause the most damage, not so good at throwing though, long-distance dressmaking isn't really a thing. And obviously, I can use them to cook, I'm pretty fast at chopping."

The cooking comment was more of a joke to babble her way through an awkward conversation, but Heather looks interested, "We need a cook. That half raw rabbit Ram hunted last night and then sort of flung in the fire was awful."

She eyes her, still suspicious, "You're from 8 too, aren't you?" Veronica nods once, "How do we know you weren't helping them?"

She snorts, If I was, you'd all be dead now, "I had to grow up with Brad, he spent his life flexing his muscles and boasting about stuff he'd never done. The boy was born with a brain tumour instead of a brain. You'd do us all a favour if you cut it out."

Heather's mouth twitches as she hides a smile, "Isn't that all men? Come on then, you can tag along with us for now. You'd better not be lying about the cooking though. Oh and toss her some bread, I don't want her fainting on us."

Barely able to believe her luck, Veronica tries her best to hide her smile as she digs into the roll. The situation is still far from ideal, and she's sure she'll be the first the Careers turn on when the numbers start going down, but for the moment she is safe.

They sit for a few minutes by the stream, refilling their water bottles, unafraid. Why would they be? They are strong and powerful and have just killed their greatest threat.

There's a noise in the sky and a hovercraft comes over and lowers its claw. For a moment, the husk of meat that used to be David's body is visible to them all, still dripping with blood.

There is a retching sound nearby, Veronica turns to see Heather Duke, bent over the ground, clearly hoping she has not been noticed. Heather Chandler's immediate strides towards her prove she's been very unsuccessful.

"For God's sake Heather," she says, "A tribute afraid of blood. Are you trying to drain away all our sponsor money?"

"What do you do when you're on your period?" sniggers Heather McNamara, joining her, "do you just faint every time you go to the toilet?"

"And here is a tale of a girl who has not yet hit puberty." says Heather Chandler with a flourish, "I came here for my chance to become rich and famous, not to have to put up with a waste of space who scored an 8 in training."

For a second there's a flash of something in Heather Duke's eyes, something completely terrifying hiding just beneath her quiet exterior, and Veronica is suddenly fearful of what will come next. But nothing does. Instead, Heather Duke looks away in shame.

"Let's go," says Heather Chandler, tying her hair back with a red scrunchie that must be her token, "this whole place stinks of barf now."

Just as they're about to move on, Veronica notices something glinting on the ground. She picks it up carefully. Instantly she recognises the crest of her school back in 8, she is momentarily confused, how can something from home be here? But then she rubs some dirt off and sees the words Football Captain, and she snorts, typical Brad, fighting for his life and he wants to remind himself that some sports idiots thought he was good enough to lead them. She tosses it into the stream with a gentle 'plop'.

xxx

They hunt for a bit longer as they make their way back to camp, making no effort to keep their voices down. All the Heathers have their weapons drawn, apparently reluctant to get trapped again without them to hand. She keeps her hands in her pockets and trails a little behind, hoping no one will see what she is lacking.

"Do you have a weapon?" Asks Heather Duke, slowing down to walk with her, apparently not stupid enough to fall for her (admittedly weak) ploy.

She's still debating which answer is more likely to get her killed when Heather reaches into her bag and passes her a knife, "it's a good one, very sharp."

"Thanks," she mutters, not wanting the other Heathers to know about the exchange.

Heather Duke shrugs, "you're a liability if you can't even attempt to defend yourself," but does nothing to bring it to their attention either.

She tests it by cutting a few tree branches and Heather is right, it is good and sharp. A real weapon, powerful allies and the promise of more food and water, all in all, she's doing a lot better than she was this morning.

No more tributes are found. She's glad; she might not vomit at the sight of blood, but she's had quite enough of action and questionable morals today.

xxx

Kurt and Ram are using knives to carve lewd drawings into trees when they get back to camp.

Heather Chandler rolls her eyes, and clicks her fingers, "Over here boys, would be good if you didn't spend your time blunting our weapons while we do all the work."

The boys shoot angry looks, which would have had Veronica running, but Heather just throws a knife so it lands dead centre of one of the carved penises, "Now."

They both shuffle over.

"We've lost those idiots David and Brad, but we picked up this one from 8. She's not very good at fighting but can throw rocks and, unlike you boys, can cook."

Ram looks unconvinced, "Wasn't she the hot one who said she was smarter than all of us in the interview?"

Veronica feels five sets of accusing eyes on her.

Fuck. How was I to know one of the Careers was actually listening to me? Fuck my sexy dress. Fuck JD and the words he put into my head.

She gives Ram a smile, the same one that she's pretty sure earnt her an extra point from the Gamemakers, "I appear to have spent too much time listening to what Brad said about you all, I figured if he was boasting about being smarter than you then I must be a rocket scientist by that standard. Now I just see he spoke enough rubbish that he should have bullshit pouring out of his ears."

Ram and Kurt seemed to have gotten distracted enough by the smile to have forgotten the question (which is probably not an argument in their favour about her opinion of their intelligence being incorrect). Heather Chandler, however, just snorts and pulls out a blanket from their pile of supplies, and it seems the issue is resolved. Maybe she's just planning a worse death for her when they do decide to kill her.

"What happened with David and Brad?" asks Kurt.

"Tried to kill us so we killed David, Brad ran away like the reaped loser he is," summarises Heather Duke, missing out a few key details.

"It just sucks, you know," Heather Chandler says, as she flops down on the blanket, "I spent five years training with David. He could have given me a few more days before he tried to murder me. Ah well, guess he couldn't get over me being better than him and his small penis."

The boys snigger appreciatively, apparently too dim to realise she'd have said the exact thing about them had the situations been reversed.

xxx

The Hunger Games seem misnamed at the Career camp, here there is enough food to feed all 24 tributes for the next month. If that's not a metaphor for the way the Capitol treats the districts I don't know what is.

She puts together a proper fire (apparently Kurt and Ram were too distracted by drawing genitals on trees to properly tend to the one they had) and then wraps potatoes in tin foil (because what don't they have at this camp?) and chucks them on the embers until they are soft.

Stacked with cheese, butter and some vegetables she roasted on a stick, they are divine.

"Not bad," says Heather Chandler and then, seeing Veronica's shock that she actually received a compliment, immediately seeks to rectify it, "like it's no Capitol meal, but it's ok for peasant food."

But Veronica just smirks as Heather grabs another potato, "I'm here all evening."

Once they are stuffed, Veronica brings out a pack of marshmallows she found while searching through the food stores. She's never had them herself, but she's heard enough old stories about times before to know what to do with them, "I have dessert."

And before long they're all sitting round the fire, roasting marshmallows (which are even softer and sweeter than she imagined) while they talk. It's almost fun, it's like what she imagines a camping trip might have been like if she'd ever had a chance to go on one.

Off murder duty, the Careers seem to have forgotten that she is the weakest of their number, as they laugh and tell stories about their lives in their districts. Some of the stories are completely unrecognisable to her, they involve a lot more sanctioned fighting than she's used to and a world where they are not expected to take a shift in a factory after school. But other stories, of near escapes from Peacekeepers, of sneaking out to parties and drinking alcohol, smuggled from their parents', out behind the school shed are very familiar, not so different from what she did in 8 (or, in some cases, what more popular kids did in 8).

Soon she starts adding her own stories to the mix: her friends and her daring each other to steal sweets they couldn't afford from the candy store, the minor explosion some of her classmates made trying to make homemade alcohol, and the time she snuck into a designer's workroom and copied a Capitol dress pattern that all the girls at school particularly admired, only to realise that none of them had the fabrics to make it look anything like the design.

"If it was anything like the dress they designed for your interview I imagine it looked nice anyway," says Heather Duke.

Veronica chuckles, "You assume very wrong."

They're human, she thinks, wondering how it took actually meeting them to get to this revelation, not nice ones, not good ones, but humans – children, just like me, who should all have a life ahead of them to look forward to.

The Panem Anthem cuts through their contented chatter and they all immediately turn to the sky.

David is the first face in the sky, seeing him up there is different from seeing the others yesterday. There's no sadness, not for that jerk, instead she sees the image of a guy showing off exactly how strong he was, and now he is dead. He is dead and wouldn't be if it wasn't for her. She feels a rush of power at the thought.

The only other image is Rodney's district partner, Kurt and Ram cheer at her picture, confirming her suspicions that she was killed by the Career pack.

"Who's left?" Demands Heather Chandler.

"All of us except David, that wimpy kid from District 3, boy District 6, girl District 7, that idiot Brad, both of 9 and the boy and the fat girl from 12," says Heather Duke, who apparently has been actually paying attention to the Games.

"That pig's still alive?" Heather McNamara shrieks, amused, "can't wait to see her waddle away when we hunt her!"

The rest of the Careers snigger. Veronica does not, but makes sure no distaste for the comment shows on her features, it wouldn't do well for her perception either at camp or in the Capitol.

Kurt puts his arms around Heather McNamara, "Yo girl, another successful day, want to join me in the tent for a celebration..."

Heather scowls, pushing him away, "I can't, you know about Chris." She looks pleadingly at Heather Chandler to back her up.

Heather Chandler's nose wrinkles in disgust and Veronica is certain she'll tell them off. But she just rolls her eyes, "oh just suck him off, I'll do Ram, I don't want to hear them whine all night."

Veronica decides this is a great time to start clearing up the rubbish from dinner to distract herself from this disturbing scene, as the boys and both Heathers wander out of sight.

They're entitled, these boys, she reasons, taught from a young age that they were the best of the best in the only sport that their world cares about. They must have always had things given to them, girls throwing themselves at them. Why, they must think, should their time in the arena be any different?

It occurs to her she's never seen any of this when she's watched the Games before, though she can't see why it would be different any other years. Maybe JD is right that they cut this stuff out. Can't go scarring those Capitol kids.

Hopefully the Heathers are all sexy enough that Kurt and Ram's eyes don't wander any further.

xxx

After an amusingly short time, they return and the talk turns to sleep and plans for tomorrow. It's been a long day and, even with the stamina that has been apparently trained into them for years, the whole group is exhausted.

"I think we can afford a sleep in tomorrow." Declares Heather Chandler, as they all scramble to get the best sleeping bags, "These Games are the easiest I've ever seen. We just need to deal with that idiot boy from 8 and we've basically got no competition."

Oh yeah, that's definitely how you were feeling this morning, thinks Veronica, but keeps her thoughts to herself.

"What about District 12?" She asks, "The male, obviously?"

Heather Chandler waves her hand dismissively, "The weedy one from the poor district? Don't be ridiculous, 8. Maybe he's a threat to weaklings like you and maybe Heather Duke here, but we could snap his neck right now – at the rate we're going he'll probably be in the sky tomorrow."

And this is why I am allied with you, thinks Veronica. But JD's unsettling eyes still haunt her slightly less interrupted sleep that night.


The Capitol Presents, the Surviving Tributes: Day 2

District 1

Heather McNamara

Ram Sweeny

District 2

Heather Chandler

David Remington

District 3

Betty Finn

Peter Dawson

District 4

Heather Duke

Kurt Kelly

District 5

Shannon Lucas

Rodney Bulb

District 6

Cathy Stone

Al Springer

District 7

Tracy Hophead

Bobby Young

District 8

Veronica Sawyer

Brad Richards

District 9

Courtney Chadwick

Keith Harrington

District 10

Shelly Little

Dennis Grundy

District 11

Phyllis McCarthy

Dwight Archer

District 12

Martha Dunstock

Jason Dean