Chapter 13: The 76th Annual Hunger Games

I see it as if in slow motion. There are multiple cameras, shown on a large multiscreen covering an entire wall. I know the viewers will only get to see one tribute at a time, but this arrangement allows us as mentors to see all of the tributes simultaneously, following the ones that we have special interest in, while keeping a casual - and sometimes watchful - eye on the others at the same time. I know that our tributes are unlikely to get much airtime, even if they survive the Cornucopia, because their scores were either bad or mediocre. They haven't done or said anything which makes them stand out in the interviews.

They're only likely to be on the air at the moment of their deaths.

The wall of movement and colors is confusing, and at first I can't find Den or Emilia. But then I see them, both down in the lower right corner. Emilia makes a run for it, and she actually is as fast as she promised in the interview with Caesar. Like a deer she disappears, she is all legs as she turns around a corner, now safe from the arrows which are already coming from the male district two tribute. I quickly scroll down the notes Peeta gave me, I don't remember his name. There it is, Mend. Next to his name, Peeta has scribbled: "Has a bad reputation, even in District 2. Killed his mother when he was 11, too fond of knives." Apparently, he's also fond of bows - he's very, very good. One of the best archers I've ever seen, I'm pretty sure he could rival me, perhaps he's even better. Next to his name it says 11, with a red circle around it. I'm guessing he got an 11 by showing off his arching skills as well.

The first cannons are already going off, as Mend shoots one arrow after another. I can't help but watch as he shoots first one tribute in the back, then another, and then another. I hear Johanna swearing badly behind me, and know that at least one of her tributes is down. Then another... And another... From the corner of my eye I see Twitch butchering a 12-year-old girl with an axe, one of the District 8 tributes.

Where is Den? I frantically search for him, for any sign of life. He hasn't been shot yet, has he? My mouth is dry, my heart pounding. There is nothing we can do to help them here, now, in these frantic first minutes by the Cornucopia. They are on their own.

And then I see him.

He didn't follow our advice. Instead he's trying to get a rucksack and a large knife. "Damn you, Den!" Haymitch murmurs by my side, and I know he's thinking the same thing I do.

His chances of surviving the initial blood bad just dropped dramatically.

"Run, idiot!" I say, I didn't mean to say it out loud, but I did, and I can hear several of the Career Victors snigger at me behind my back.

And then it happens.

Mend's arrow finds him. It hits him low, just below his rib cage, slightly to the side, and as I watch in terror, it tears through his kidney area, and the force is so large that the tip of the arrow comes out of his stomach on the other side. I'm a hunter, so I know just how massive the damage to his internal organs is. Even if he'd had access to the very best care in a Capitol hospital, I'm not sure if they could've saved him. And here - in the Hunger Games - he has no chance. I know the audience of Panem only sees a few seconds of his death, as there are more interesting things going on in the arena - the first hours of the Hunger Games are the highest-ranking TV event in Panem, every single year.

But we have to watch. He has a screen, down in the lower right corner, that's just for him. Just for Den. As his skin grows deathly pale and gray, he's touching the tip of the arrow. His hands are covered in blood, and I see from the terror in his eyes that he knows he's going to die. It's mercifully fast - I'm guessing the artery to one of his kidneys has been severed, and he's bleeding out fast. I want to hide against Peeta's chest, I don't want to watch, but I can't seem to tear my eyes away. I watch Den die, on screen. His body goes limp, his eyes become glassy.

There is yet another blast of the cannon.

And with it, we have failed yet another District 12 tribute.

"It looks like we don't have to fight over which tribute gets the sponsor money anymore," Haymitch mutters, then takes out a small bottle from his pocket and empties it in one huge gulp.

A few hours later, when the tributes are too busy either exploring the items at the cornucopia or hiding from the careers to kill anyone, all the Victors make a list together over which tributes are alive and which ones are dead. In the chaos that was the Cornucopia, no one really had time to follow more than their own tributes.

It's been a particularly bloody start this year. 13 tributes are dead already - there are only 11 left. I'm not sure if the Gamemakers are happy about that - after all, it's a show, people in the Capitol have been looking forward to this for a year, and there would be riots in the streets if the winner were to be announced after just a few days. So the pace of the killings must be slowed down somewhat, for which I'm relieved.

We lost Den, but we still have Emilia. Which is more than many of the other districts can say. Annie is crying, and Finnick is looking very gloomy. Not surprisingly, both their tributes are dead. They'd complained that their tributes sucked, and it seems like they were right. This must be a shock to all of District 4, which is usually a Career district.

Just not this year.

Johanna, who complained of the same shitty tributes, still has one left, though - the boy, called Aton.

Surprisingly, the girl from District 2 is dead. Rayn took a knife in the back from one of the District 11 tributes, both of which are now dead. Rayn's death must be a blow to the careers - their strength is as much in numbers as in training and viciousness, and their pre-formed alliance usually ensures their safety at the Cornucopia simply because everyone knows that they always protect each other. Enobaria is furious, she clearly didn't expect this to happen, and nearly gets into a fight with Chaff.

Districts 8 and 9 lost both their tributes, but the boys from 3 and 5 have both made it, and I make a mental note that both of them are probably used to cities, which might give them an advantage in this arena. The same is true for the two District 6 tributes, both of which are alive. That's another surprise, both of them are very young, but they did what Emilia did - they took off without trying to get any supplies or weapons from the Cornucopia. The remaining tribute from District 10, known for its livestock, won't have an advantage in this arena, but at least he's still alive. Sarr, this year's Finnick-lookalike, isn't looking quite as handsome now as he did during training, not to mention his interview with Caesar Flickerman.

When I sit down for the first time in several hours, I find that my entire body is shaking. I'm starting to hypeventilate, but Peeta's soothing hand on my shoulder and his quiet words to "breathe, Katniss, just breathe," manage to bring me back. I know I can't have a breakdown here, in front of all the other victors, head gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee, not to mention Snow, who's still here. He's walking from one district's station to the next, right now he's talking to Johanna. I had almost expected her to strip to relieve the tension after one of her tributes was butchered in less than one minute, but surprisingly she is still fully dressed. I can't hear what they are saying, but I can see the envelope she receives, and the way her shoulders slump when she sees it.

Snow certainly has a way with timing. He knows exactly how to break someone.

Then he comes to us. His face is entirely unreadable as he looks at us, the three District 12 Victors. Haymitch is drunk, and there is something vicious in his eyes - Den's death has touched him deeply, even though I'm sure he's trying very hard not to care. I hope he'll be able to hold his tongue now that Snow is here. Peeta is standing behind me, still with a hand protectingly on my shoulder. "Haymitch." Snow nods to him, and Haymitch narrows his eyes, but answers:

"Mr. President," and nods curtly.

"And Mr. and Mrs. Mellark." He sits down in Haymitch's chair, as if casually, swivelling around in it a few times. "How's marriage treating you? Panem's favorite newlyweds?"

"Good," I answer, smiling, hoping the smile doesn't look as stiff as I feel that is is. My face is like a mask, but not a very good one. My heart is pounding.

I think Snow can smell fear, like a wild animal.

"Keep this up, Katniss, and I just might start to believe in you," he says. I hardly dare to breathe, and I can't think of anything to say. Even Peeta doesn't know how to respond. "By the river, for instance. Quite charming." My face is reddening, and I can feel Peeta's fingers digging into my shoulder reflexively.

Even there, they were watching us.

I feel anger surging in me - that even that moment, which is such a precious yet complicated memory to me, can be tainted. Peeta makes a strangled noise behind me, but he doesn't say anything. I just look down at the floor. "Well, good luck with your remaining tribute in the Hunger Games, District 12. May the odds be ever in her favor." There is something in his voice, an undertone of something...

As soon as Snow finally leaves the room, I break down, hiding my face in my hands. Tears are streaming down my face. I know that this is something I shouldn't let all the other victors see, and that Snow will most certainly hear about my breakdown within seconds. I hate myself for this display of weakness, of emotion, it's something I just can't afford, but I can't help it.

Peeta kneels in front of me, holding my shoulders, whispering in my ear: "Get it together, Katniss. We can talk about this later. Not right now." This makes me sob even louder, and a distant part of my brain is appalled that I can't control myself, control my feelings. He whispers into my ear again, more insistently this time: "I know it hurts, and I know we don't deserve this, to have every good thing in our lives trampled on and observed by others. But we're more than that. They may watch, but they can't take away what we feel. Okay?"

I nod, forcing myself to slow my breathing. The shame is not ours, I tell myself. The shame is not ours.

"Right now, we have to focus on one thing, and that's Emilia's survival. Emilia. We can deal with this later. Okay?"

"Yeah." I dry my tears, not caring if all the other victors see my red-rimmed eyes. I straighten my shoulders, and look at the multiscreen on the wall.

The huntress is back.

I rarely show my true feelings in public, and inwardly I scold myself for losing it like this. It can't happen again. It's not as if they haven't seen us having sex before, what's one more time, really? Even if they heard me saying that I love him, for real, for the very first time, what's the big deal? Our relationship has been on public display since long before there even was a relationship.

Focus.

I look around at the other Victors. Some are following the multiscreen, others are speaking in hushed whispers. Enobaria is on the phone, I'm guessing she's talking to a sponsor. On screen, the District 1 tributes get a bouquet of flowers. Flowers! I'm appalled that they have so much sponsor money that they are wasting it on flowers, congratulating them on seizing control of the Cornucopia, not to mention the well. We have next to nothing to offer to our tribute, who will dearly need all the help she can get. I search the multiscreen for Emilia, and I'm relieved when I find her, going through a burned down buliding, searching for shelter or food. I'm glad she's safe, at least for now, but it's not thanks to me. I study the way she moves - it's like the street cats in District 12 at night. They search for scraps of food and mice wherever they can find them, moving carefully and almost soundlessly, ready to take off at any second.

Street cats are survivors.

Do you have a plan, Emilia?

There is more to this girl than meets the eye.

I make a decision. I walk over to the District 4 area, where Mags, Annie and Finnick are sulking. I know how they feel - the same thing happened to me last year. Both tributes lost, just like that, it was all over in minutes. The feeling of failure was overwhelming. "Hey, Mags," I say, because I know that she is the unofficial leader of the group, even though Finnick is the one who gets all the attention. Finnick listens to her. And Annie listens to Finnick. I'm not quite sure of the other six District 4 victors, I don't know them that well, but I know they're friends of Haymitch's, and I think that they, too, will do as Mags says.

If I can get Mags to follow me, I have District 4 in my pocket.

"Do you have much free sponsor money?" I ask them, getting straight to the point. If both tributes from a district die, and there is sponsor money left, two things can happen. Some sponsor money is earmarked for a certain tribute or district, and that money will get lost if the tribute dies. But some sponsor money is called "free" sponsor money, and it can be used at the Victors' discretion even if both of the District's tributes are dead. That's how District 11 could give me the bread in the Hunger Games - it wasn't tied to a particular victor or district.

"Not much," Mags answers, her voice surprisingly clear. She can be hard to understand sometimes, but I know she understands everything I say.

"Look, we're fighting against the odds here. Emilia got a 2, we hardly got any sponsor money at all. The arena looks like a shitty place to be, I don't know if there are any food and water sources there at all. We need to help her."

"She's a goner," Finnick says, but he's studying me carefully.

"No, she's not," I cut him off. "She's alive. And she's resourceful, more resourceful than she looks. I mean, she's survived in the Seam. Look at her." I nod to the multiscreen, where we see her looking around like a hunter, hunched, carefully planning her next move, before she sprints across the street to check out the insides of yet another house. She does look helpless, in the sense that she's tiny and unarmed, but there's something about the way she moves, something that tells me I just can't give her up, not quite yet.

"She's 13," I say, not allowing Mags to break eye contact with me. "She doesn't deserve to die."

"None of them do," Finnick says.

"True. But just give her a chance? Perhaps she'll be the biggest surprise of them all this year."

"It's a waste of hard-earned sponsor money," Finnick insists, and I wonder if he's done anything himself, to... earn it.

"Then who do you think deserves the money, Finnick? Who do you think would win - are you going to hand them over to the careers? They have enough as it is, you know that!" I'm standing very close to him now, hissing into his ear. Ideally, I'd want to yell, but I don't want all of the other Victors to listen in on this conversation. "If you take the careers out of the equation, what are you left with?" We both look up at the betting board, with odds and pictures of all the remaining tributes. "The others are all as unlikely to win as Emilia is, with the possible exception of Sarr the Hunk. They are all young and utterly unprepared for the Careers. She's not worse off than any of the others. This is really a question of who you want to team up with?"

I know this is probably not really fair - it's emotional blackmailing. I don't really know what's happening in the districts, but I do know there's a rebellion, I know District 4 is involved, and I'm pretty sure that Finnick is somehow involved, too. I also know that I'm important to the resistance. Which makes me important to Finnick. And if I have to take advantage of that situation to save Emilia's life, then that's exactly what I'll do.

It takes a while to get them to agree, but in the end I can triumphantly tell Haymitch that our sponsor money just more than doubled. I use the same tactics on 8, 9 and 11 as well, and manage to get some money from 11. At least it's much better than nothing.

The first day of the Hunger Games is not only the bloodiest, it's also the one which is the most exhausting for us as mentors. We need to follow more than ten screens simultaneously, along with maps, making notes of just what all the tributes are coming across, trying to figure out the arena. Understanding what the gamemakers are up to, trying to stay one step ahead of the game.

It's even worse than I thought. So far, no one has found any water sources, and only two of them have found any food in the ruined houses. One of them is Emilia, who found two cans of tomatos. I know the fluid will mean she can go on longer than many of the others, and she can make use of the empty cans, too. Plus it's shown her that there is food to be found - if you're lucky, persistent, and make the right decisions.

What's worse is that it soon becomes apparent that the city isn't just burned down, with copies of buildings from all the districts - there is something else as well. It's hardly noticable at first, but then we see that the tributes are being herded together. We follow Bendy from District 6 and Aton from District 7, and are surprised when we see that they, despite seemingly going in opposite directions, still end up in the same street. The streets take unexpected twists and turns, some are blocked by rubble, forcing you to go in other directions than you had planned.

It's a maze.

Bendy and Aton are suddenly faced with each other, but they are both unarmed and terrified, and run off in opposite directions again, without even attempting to kill each other. But what if one of them had been a carreer? Then the other would most certainly be dead now.

I look absentmindedly at one of the minor multiscreens which shows images from cameras which aren't currently on the main multiscreen because there aren't any tributes nearby - and I freeze when I see one of the houses move. I gasp, and Peeta follows my eyes. His jaw clenches, he figures out what this means before I do.

"Fuck," he hisses.

The Gamemakers can change the streets at their own will, forcing the tributes together by manipulating the maze. This also means that even if you've been in an area before, you can't know what it will look like the next time you come there. You can come running down the street with a mutt chasing you down, only to make a turn and find that where there was an open street yesterday, there is now a house or a huge pile of rubble, blocking you.

Damn them.

Why did they move the house now? "Look," Peeta whispers in my ear, and we look up at the map of the area - it's not detailed, as we know little about the arena so far, and more details will be revealed as we go. But we can see tiny dots of light, in different colors, moving around. The signals from the trackers in their arms. There is a purple light with the photo of a young boy on it coming in that direction - it's the boy from District 5, I don't remember his name. Then he comes into view of the camera I was looking at earlier. He doesn't see that the house moves, he's oblivious to the game maker's manipulation. He also doesn't know that he is being forced to walk in the direction where two red lights are coming against him - Kora and Mend. Twitch is back at the Cornucopia, standing guard.

We can only watch in horror as the boy suddenly finds himself face to face with the two careers. It's fast, which is a mercy despite the horror of it all - he catches a knife in his back as he tries to run, and he's dead within a minute. Kora is amazing with knives, I'll have to give her that. There is cheering and laughter among the District 1 and 2 Victors, and on screen Kora makes a happy little dance of joy while Mend simply laughs. It's nauseating to see, both on screen and the victors, congratulating themselves on the first kill outside the cornucopia. The cannon goes off, and I feel it in every fiber of my being just how much I hate that sound.

And then they were 10.

Then the pace slows down. The gamemakers don't shift any more walls or houses the rest of the day. I guess they don't want to kill off all the tributes too soon - 14 have died in only one day. They do after all want the show to last long enough to get maximum sponsor and advertising money out of it. Maximum impact. The mood in the Victors' Control Room is divided. Quite a few of the Victors have already lost both of their tributes, and they are understandably upset, angry, sad, indifferent or a mixture of any of the four. A few are drinking, one of the District 6 morphlings is openly shooting morphling into a vein. Some have left, others are hanging around to see what's happening. Many friendships have been formed between Victors over the years - as curious as it sounds, the Hunger Games is also a bit of a social arena for many of them. Even for people like me.

For us, having Emilia alive, there is a lot of work ahead. Haymitch continues his efforts to get more sponsor money, both from sponsors and free money from districts which have lost both their tributes. Peeta and I try to cover as many screens as possible between us, getting to know everything we can about the arena and the opposition. I'm focusing on the careers, who I consider to be Emilia's greatest threats. All three of them have now retreated to the Cornucopia, where they go through all the items left there. The careers taking control of the Cornucopia happens every year, but what's special about this year, is that they are only three. Usually they are six, sometimes more, if they have made alliances with tributes from other districts as well, such as Peeta in the 74th Hunger Games. This year, Rayn unexpectedly died, and the District 4 tributes were so useless they were probably never even considered for their alliance. This means that their numbers are very low, and they have to be more careful.

"I'm guessing one tribute is going to stay by the Cornucopia to watch it at all times, leaving only two tributes to track down the others," Peeta says, clearly thinking what I'm thinking.

"Unless the others are being forced back to the Cornucopia," I answer. "As far as we know, the well is the only source of fresh water in the arena."

"There must be something somewhere," Peeta mutters, but so far, only Emilia has found any fluid. I'm very glad she will be able to hold off returning to the Cornucopia longer than any of the others, at least the way things look now.

The recap that night is horrible. 14 faces are lighting up the sky in the arena tonight. 14 families have lost a loved one. We watch Emilia, who's found shelter in a partly burned-down house. She's cleverly found a house which is hard to enter, but still has an emergency exit if she's found. The arena doesn't seem to be particularly cold - she doesn't have a sleeping bag, yet she's not shivering, and manages to fall asleep relatively quickly. She wisely hasn't opened either of her two cans of tomatoes yet, saving them for later. None of the other tributes have found water yet.

They'll all start to get really thirsty by tomorrow.

It's getting late. "Why don't you two go and get some sleep?" Haymitch suggests.

"You need to sleep, too," I object.

"I need less sleep than any of you," he answers, "besides, if you two don't sleep together, you'll just have nightmares, anyway, and then there's no point in even trying."

He doesn't say it, but both Peeta and I know that Haymitch doesn't like to sleep when it's dark outside.

Peeta cries himself to sleep. He knew Den much better than I did - I had concentrated on Emilia. Peeta has seen Den in the orphanage so many times, and he'd started to bond with him. And then, in just a few minutes, Den was gone. There is nothing I can say that will comfort Peeta, there are no words that will help. All I can do is hold him, stroke his hair and kiss away his tears.