District 9: Luc Everett (16) Pov-
I hold the scythe in my hand tentatively, twirling it around in my grip as I wait for the target to appear. At last, the cutout rabbit begins dashing across the zone. I quickly lash out with the scythe, causing the mechanical rabbit to fall. I pull the scythe back and jump forward again, this time hacking the rabbit in half.
I set the scythe back on its shelf. The instructor smiles at me, giving me a few words of praise. I thank him and notice Orford from 10 walking my way.
"Hey Luc, want to have a duel?" Orford calls.
"Sure," I say, my voice challenging. I snatch up a scythe, and Orford grabs one of his own. The trainer running the station is clearly amused, because he leans back against the wall with his lips curled up into the slightest smirk.
Orford and I dance around each other. Like a lot of District 9 kids, I can use a scythe like a third arm. Even so, I'm not sure I could take down a well-trained career if I came across one.
Trying to act as spontaneous as possible, I lunge forward. My crashing footsteps echo around the gymnasium. Using all of the strength I can muster, I swing the scythe to the left. Orford simply leaps over the blade like a jump-rope, unscathed.
The 10 boy chuckles. "You can do better than that. I'd duck if I were you."
The meaning of his last sentence sets in almost too late. Almost is the key word. Heeding his warning, I fall to the ground. His scythe flies over my head, nearly slicing off a piece of my hair.
"My, you are fast after all," Orford says, swirling his scythe in hand and sporting a smirk.
For some reason I can't quite place a finger on, this statement provokes me. I dive forward, quickly knocking Orford's scythe out of his grasp. He must be shocked by my sudden burst of energy, because he doesn't say a word as I place the blade of the scythe onto his hip.
"You lose," I mutter triumphantly.
"Well at least I'm decent enough not to cheat," Orford says.
"I did not cheat! How could I have cheated?"
Orford's mouth hangs open as if he's unable to think of a reply. I didn't cheat. He's just mad that I'm better than him.
"You're really, really stupid," Orford spits at last.
I set down the scythe and thunder away without another word.
District 1: Declan Benitoit (17) Pov-
I'm relieved I've fixed myself a spot in the career group. My district partner Sangria is just so hard to speak to; she only judges me by which of my attributes and features are "cute". But I suppose she acts that way to everyone.
After two days of training separately, I've finally persuaded all four of us to train together. Now, we'll have lots of time to mingle and discuss our strategies for the games as well as gossip about the other tributes.
Nero's easy to talk to. I like how cool and easy-going he is.
"Any strong ones? Any we should invite to join the pack?"
Nero shakes his head. "I wouldn't take the chance. Whenever an outlier joins the career pack, they almost always find a way to kill off all of their allies."
"But drastic times call for drastic measures," Jaehaera chimes in, flinging a sword into the cloth dummy. "We only have four. We're automatically weaker."
Sangria speaks up. "That boy from 11 is super cute."
We all pretend not to hear her.
"I suppose the best option would be that 10 boy, Orford," I suggest, shoving the end of one of my knives into the mannequin. "He looks strong, but that could be just looks."
"We can't tell for sure until we see his training score," Nero notes. "And besides, training scores don't tell you anything. Remember that victor from a few decades ago that only scored a three?"
We all nod.
"We could bring in that boy from District 9. He's cute," Sangria continues.
We all pretend not to hear her. Jaehaera is fuming.
For once, I don't ignore my district partner. "That Luc boy might not be out of the question. He's strong," I say.
"Ah, district loyalty, isn't it, Declan?" Jaehaera says, her dark eyes flashing the way they always do when she gets passionate about something. "Agreeing with your stupid district partner. Ever the patriot."
"Hey!" Sangria shouts. "I'm not stupid!"
"Yes you are!" Jaehaera shouts.
"Am not."
"Am."
"Am not."
"SHUT UP!" Nero shouts.
The 2 boy glances at me. Let's just kill her in the bloodbath, he mouths.
District 2: Jaehaera Blackfyre (17) Pov-
A few hours before noon, the career pack breaks up. I notice the close-knit duo of Declan and Nero heading for the swords. Sangria prances toward the camouflage station, and I head for the poison station. There isn't a trainer there, but there is another tribute.
"Hi," I say, sitting down. The small girl has several vials in front of her. She squints her eyes to read the labels as she sorts them.
The girl looks up and jumps. "You're…"
"Yep," I say, nodding in confirmation. "Jaehaera Blackfyre. District 2."
The girl's hands race as she finishes the station as quickly as possible. The instant everything is back in order, she gets up and sprints to the other side of the gymnasium. I guess I should take that as a compliment.
I sit down on the bench. The poison station is tucked into a corner far away from the gamemakers. The region would be shrouded in relative darkness is not for the hot flood-lamp mounted to the wall above the countertop.
The holographic screen instructs me to rank the vials of poison by how quickly they can kill and then match each poison to its proper antidote.
Suddenly, and I can't say why, a surge of pride rushes into me. Daeron was probably doing this exact same thing five years ago. He died in the games. I'm not going to die. Rhaenys is probably watching from home, wishing she was in my spot. The thought of her angrily turning off the television instills a whole lot more confidence in me. More so than there already is, of course.
Figuring I might as well get as much done before time runs out, I get to work. The screen tells me that darker colors generally mean the poison works more quickly. However, it reports, killers often color the poisons differently to confuse their prey. If there are any chunks in the poison, they're likely pieces of colorant that didn't dissolve fully.
In about five minutes, I have all of the poisons ranked. The screen scans over my work, reporting that I got a flawless score.
I then turn to the poison antidotes. I know from watching past games that poison antidotes aren't usually labeled with the poison they counteract. This is sure to be a valuable skill to learn. The only clue the screen gives me is that the light red antidote cures most common poisons.
When I finally have everything sorted, the screen scans over my work once more. 80 percent accuracy. I scowl with disappointment and compare the correct answers displayed on the screen to mine. Only 20 percent of my answers switched and I'd have a perfect score! I suppose I'd better keep at it. If the thing I try to drink in the games falls into that 20 percent, I'm 100 percent dead.
District 6: Lincoln Blitz (16) Pov-
"That branch looks a little crooked," Lexie critiques.
I turn toward my branch shelter and close one eye, allowing the small house to be silhouetted in my vision. Lexie is right. One of the branches to the right of the entrance is lopsided. If it falls, it could cause the whole shelter to collapse in its descent.
Slipping on my rubber gloves, I carefully start adjusting the branch.
"Can you help me out a bit? I only have two hands."
Lexie nods and rushes toward me, holding the base of the branch firmly while I shift it left and right. It's immeasurably satisfying when the long branch finally falls into place.
"Shall we try the water test?" Lexie suggests.
"Sure."
She rushes to the corner of the room, where the large cart of drinks sits. She returns thirty seconds later with a bottle of water.
I crawl into the shelter. It's a tight fit, but it would certainly be better that nothing in the wilderness.
The sound of the plastic breaking can be heard as Lexie opens the bottle of water. Then she starts sprinkling it on top of the shelter. A few drops hit my back, but I'm dry overall.
"I think it worked!" I shout, wiggling out of the shelter on my hands and knees. "Let's try yours."
Lexie climbs into her shelter. I grab another bottle of water and sprinkle it over the top. By the sound of her pained hisses from inside, the cold water must be spilling onto her.
At first I'm not sure what to say when Lexie comes out sopping wet.
"Don't worry," Lexie chimes. "I made that shelter bad on purpose just so the others won't target me."
This news takes me aback. It would be very close-minded to say that she's a liar, but the news is hard to believe. The only reason I built my shelter so well is that I have experience. Being an orphan means I've had to sleep in some weird places throughout my life. My mentor's been pestering me constantly about what I'll show the gamemakers in my private session. Before I wasn't so sure, but now I think I've decided.
District 7: Cerise Yew (15) Pov-
"Good. Just open up your hands a little more," Erik instructs.
I pull my left hand farther up the shaft of the axe, and I instantly feel more in-control of the movements of the weapon.
Erik nods, signaling that the time is right. We both run forward with our axes and assault the dummy that sits on the counter. I bury the blade of my axe into the dummy's neck, literally slicing off its head and making me feel slightly queasy. Meanwhile, Erik dismembers the mannequin, chopping off both of its limbs before landing the blade into its stomach.
"I think it's dead," I say, laughing ever-so-slightly.
"Yep," Erik agrees, wrenching his axe out of the cloth.
"How'd I do?"
"Really good," he says. "But you're not giving the axe enough room to swing. Here, take a practice swing."
Erik steps out of the way. I get into the position that he showed me. At the end of the day, I'm his opponent; he could theoretically teach me everything incorrectly just to higher his own odds of winning. But we've been allies for over twenty-four hours and I don't think he'd go against district loyalty this early in the competition.
My "practice strike" as he calls it goes remarkably well. I aim for the dummy (or at least what's left of it), and I hit only a few inches to the left of the spot I was shooting for.
Erik clicks his tongue in confirmation. I yank the axe out of the dummy.
That's when I notice two gamemakers peering down at me from above, and my heart turns a little cold. They don't see me as a human being with a home to go back to. They just see me as Cerise Yew, District 7 Female, Age 15.
"Erik."
"Yes?"
"We're being watched."
Erik follows my gaze to the two gamemakers, and he jumps.
"Get ready. We have to do something impressive," he says hurriedly.
"What, though?"
"Doesn't matter. Anything!"
We both run for the dummy, groaning out things reminiscent of battle cries. I smash the dummy with my axe as hard as I can. The thing is knocked off of the table, landing with a thud on the tiled floor.
I peek back up at the gamemakers, only to find that they've already looked away.
"All that panic for nothing," I sigh, feeling more than a little humiliated.
District 1: Sangria Ashworth (18) Pov-
"Look at me! I'm a dummy!" I flash Declan a flirty grin.
He just sighs and focuses on the knot he's working on. He doesn't even laugh.
"Can I say something?" I call.
"Yep. Nothing stopping you from speaking."
"Why are you so serious?"
Declan looks up. "Dunno. Why are you goofing off?"
I set down my dagger. "I was trying to make you laugh. Lighten up a little."
"I'll try," Declan responds.
I grab his wrist, pulling him toward me. He stands up from his chair, confused. I press my lips against his for a moment before pulling away.
"What are you doing?" he demands.
I shrug. "Just trying to lighten things up."
"But—"
"And you are kind of cute."
He opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. I smile.
District 12: Hopper Vigo (12) Pov-
It's far too late to turn back now. Now that I've grabbed the mic at the reaping and scaled the face of the presidential mansion during the tribute parade, I'm pretty much resigned to the bloodbath. Whenever a gamemaker looks at me, they scowl. I can imagine there are very certain obscene gestures they would like to throw my way.
"Hey, where are you going?" I call. The four careers whip their heads around, staring hard at me.
"Why do you want to know?" the 2 girl spits.
"Dunno. Just think you'd be stupid if you think you need to do all this training to kill a puny 12-year-old." I point at myself with both hands, wearing a goofy grin.
"Shut up, 12. You're the first I'll get in the arena," she continues.
"Lovely. Will that be before or after tea?"
The 2 girl lunges toward me, and she has to be restrained by her district partner. My lips curl up into a smile of amusement.
"You scram right now. And I don't care what they say about not being allowed to hurt each other before the games," she growls.
"Hey!" a trainer shouts. "Break it up!"
I become legitimately concerned that the veins on her neck might explode. The 2 girl thunders away, fuming.
"I'll just go to sleep, then," I remark.
I lie down on the cold tiled floor, snoring as loudly as I can. I open my eyes a smidge and notice several nearby tributes (a boy from 5 and a girl I recognize from 10 among them) staring at me, their gazes brimming with annoyance.
"How are we going to get this kid away from us?" one of the career boys asks another.
"No clue," the other replies. "And I've tried death threats. They don't work. He doesn't seem to care about whether he goes home or not."
He's right. If I don't have my name stamped into the Walk of Victors at least I might get a chance to see my family again. Or head off to a place better than Panem. Even if I face an eternity of nothingness, it'll better than obeying the rules of the most revolting leaders in human history.
I still have a long list of harmless trouble I'd like to cause before then, though.
District 12: Remi Gardner (17) Pov-
I use my napkin to wipe the pizza grease from the corners of my mouth. Napkins are a luxury we could never afford in District 12. It feels a little strange to be using them disposably for the first time in my life.
In unison, the twenty-four tributes (including myself) stand up and file out of the cafeteria. I stick close to Adelia. Being alone isn't something any tribute wants at a time like this. This is the point when the careers are making targets. If viewing past games has taught me anything, it's that staying alone automatically makes you seem weaker.
Adelia and I enter the gym and run for the sword station. We only have an hour to train before the gamemakers start calling us in for private sessions; we don't have any time to waste. I snatch up a sword, cringing as the blade scrapes over the metal countertop. Adelia does to the same, and we quickly get into position.
"Who's gonna make the first move?" Adelia asks.
"Dunno. Just lunge when it feels right."
I pounce forward a few seconds later. Figuring I might as well treat Adelia like a real enemy for the time being, I try to flush her toward a shadowy area in a neglected corner where she'll have the element of darkness working against her.
Adelia jumps backward, bounding away from the point of my sword. She is genuinely sweating in seconds.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I assure Adelia. "We're allies, remember?"
Adelia nods.
I don't have time to breathe. My ally lunges toward me. I let out a gasp of pain, but it does nothing to change the circumstances. In seconds, Adelia has me trapped against the blade of her sword.
"That was clever," I admit.
"Thanks, Remi. But I'm still scared of those careers." Her tone tells me right away that she's terrified. So am I.
I let out a fake laugh. "Nothing we can do. They've been training for years and we've been training for three days. If we're lucky, they'll all die before we have to face them. There's only four this year anyway," I kind of sound like I'm trying to reassure myself. The more I speak, the colder the blood seems to run through my veins.
It's a long time before Adelia responds. "Our alliance can't go on forever… what if… would you ever…"
The awkward silence leaves me extremely discomforted.
Alliances:
Careers: Sangria, Declan, Nero, Jaehaera
Pranksters 'R' Us: Pixel, Hopper
11 and 12: Adelia, Remi
Jack and Jill: Cerise, Erik
Loners (For Now): Joule, Dory, Cyan, Adelaide, Arthur, Lexus, Lincoln, Twilla, Caden, Harper, Luc, Mavvi, Orford, Jaro
So the training days are now over! Private sessions are next :D
Question 1: What animal is used as the target at the scythe station?
Question 2: True or false: Cerise is younger than Lincoln.