Chapter Thirty-Four: A Room Full of Crazies

Still Training Day Two

Alexa Dobio, District Seven Female

Time for another meal full of unfamiliar food.

This time, everyone's waiting in line to take something triangular, bready, and dripping with grease out of a cardboard box. The Careers all take at least two pieces, but most others either take one or don't touch it. I consider skipping lunch, my stomach is bouncing around so much, but my nostrils get possessed by the scent this thing emits. Before I know it, I've grabbed two pieces and plopped down as far away from the Careers as possible.

Besides the Careers and anti-Careers being clustered at two tables- which are right next to each other for some inexplicable reason- most of the tables have two occupants, maximum. Some nibble on whatever this is, some devour it, others sit silently with empty plates in front of them.

"Hope you're enjoying the pizza," a trainer calls from across the room. "The Gamemakers practically live off this stuff if they need to pull an all-nighter to fix something."

Well, that settles it. I'm never going to adopt the Capitol diet, even if I win. As good as this smells- and as soon as I take the first bite, I realize that it tastes even better- I'd wind up weighing about three hundred pounds in a hurry. Especially since I don't trust their surgical techniques, and never want to touch the shot glasses full of that liquid that makes you puke for as long as I live.

I'm halfway through the first piece when I notice that most of the kids with empty plates- and a few who still have some of this pizza thing- are pacing around the tables nervously, most of them trying to make as little eye contact with others as possible. I'm not sure what their deal is- do they want allies? Is it just nerves? Maybe their stomachs can't handle this stuff and they won't even need vomiting tonic to throw up?

Then, one of them comes to a stop at my table- a petite girl with icy blue eyes and an explosion of inky black hair.

"Hey," she says to me. "Mind if I sit here?"

I can't help but smirk. "Do I look like I care?"

"Well, that settles that, then," she says as she puts her pizza on the table before taking her seat.

For a few minutes, that seems like it might be the entirety of our conversation, as both of us attack our pizza until it's gone, grease staining our faces with a slick, shiny sheen. That changes once the girl stands up, brushes the crumbs off her training outfit, and extends a slippery hand across the table. "Lacey Loveless, District Eight."

"Nice to meet you," I say, shaking her hand. "Alexa Dobio, District Seven."

"You know, I really like your attitude," Lacey says. "I think it'll really help you stand out once interviews roll around."

"I know," I respond, "but now all the Careers probably hate me for humiliating one of their members. So, I'm not sure whether I should back off in that department."

"Well," Lacey responds, "you've probably passed the point of no return already. Might as well make the most of it." She pauses, trying to clean off her face.

Okay, then. "I understand your point, but why should I take advice from you?"

Lacey laughs for a second, a quick, insincere noise. "Because I want to ally with you, duh! You're not totally cowed by Careers like most of the outliers are, and I think that you could make an excellent fighter, given some training. And I think I can help you with that."

I'm not sure how to answer that. Lacey is even shorter than I am, and I'm not what you'd call oversized, even for thirteen. Not to mention, it's nice to be fearless and all when looking for allies, but I can't help but wonder if she's just going to hold me back. In the end, I decide to try it out for a little while and then put everything that happens under further review for later.

"I'm willing to do a little trial run," I say, "but I don't want to get too attached just yet."

Lacey smiles a crooked half-smile upon hearing that. "Don't worry, it'll be a good decision. Trust me."

Well, I have to test her for a bit, and then I can trust her. But for now, we might as well be strangers- and everything she says or does might be leading me into a death trap.

My train of thought gets derailed as Cutter, just like he did yesterday, yells, "Lunchtime's over, tributes!" However, this time he follows that up with "your time here is more than halfway finished! Make sure you get to everything that you want to do soon!"

I stand up, feeling whatever this pizza is made of tossing about in my stomach. Lacey looks like nothing's bothering her, but she's probably just done an effective masking job of her emotions. Much better than me, at least.

"Come on," she says as she leaves the table. "Are we sticking together or what?"

"Coming, coming," I say, breaking into an unsteady jog to get to her side before slowing down once more.

Well, time's running short. Hopefully, this alliance doesn't work out the way I think it will, because if that happens, I'm basically out of options.

As the second half of the day starts, all I can do is cross my fingers and see if Lacey and I are compatible with each other. Chances are, we're really not.

But still, nothing bad ever came from hoping for the best, right?

Fox Angel, District Twelve Female

I hate every single person here.

The Careers I hate because they're nothing more than a group of people the Capitol uses for Hunger Games purposes, and all of them are damn full of themselves. The outliers I hate because they're weak enough to be scared by these posers that think they're being threatening. The trainers I hate because all of them have been useless thus far, and the Gamemakers I hate because- do I even need to justify that? They're going to do everything in their power to kill me over the next few weeks!

Right now, I'm taking my anger out on a dummy. Stabbing it until its imaginary death, over and over and over again, until it's nothing more than a heap of stuffing and poorly-stitched fabric. Not wanting to see an Avox for as long as I live if I can help it, I shove all the pieces of the dummy to the side before looking at the other stations to decide where I should go next.

Maybe more combat. Screw survival- the Gamemakers probably hate me at this point, and considering I'm here in the first place (despite me being pretty confident I was never registered by the District), the only way I'm going to get back here alive is if I entertain the audience with some kills. And last I checked, watching someone sit around for half an hour waiting for water to purify isn't that enjoyable.

The knife I'm using looks pretty beat-up, so I decide to go exchange it for two more that will cut through things more easily. I refuse to be worse off in combat because my weapon sucks.

Snaking my way through the racks and racks of weapons, I finally come across the knives, which there are by far the most of. Even though I can count fairly high (my math skills outside of basic math are limited, but that's beside the point), I know I wouldn't be able to tally how many there are.

Unfortunately, once I pick two sharp-looking ones with slightly curved blades, I run into a roadblock. Or two roadblocks, for that matter. Namely, the girls from One and Two.

Both of them carry heavy, brutal weapons, but I'm not worried. The second they put a finger on me here, the trainers will be forced to break it up. Sure, that applies to me as well, but that's not really going to be a problem- I've seen these two in action before, and most of the time, they've barely even annoyed their targets. I doubt I'll be any different.

"Awwww, you look so cute when you think you're a threat," the girl from One starts off.

"Maybe you should go for the camouflage station! I mean, that looks more your speed," the girl from Two adds.

I say nothing in response. If they don't think I'm going to be a problem, so be it. They don't need to know anything about me until they have a knife in their throat.

"I mean, you don't need to worry about what station to go to," the girl from One says. "I mean, you'll be dead soon anyway! I mean, look at you. You don't even have the nerve to say something back to us!"

Could she be any more obvious? She's trying to bait me into a trap. Well, I'm not biting.

"Well, look at her, Clara!" The girl from two is holding in laughter. "She doesn't look like the spunky type. What does her outfit even say other than-" she pitches her voice up ridiculously high for this part- "Please don't hurt me! I'm young and innocent and I have a cat to get home to!"

Okay, now she's pushing my buttons. The only thing keeping me from snapping is the one rational part of my brain telling me not to fall to her level. I refuse to let these posers break me.

The other girl- Clara, I'm assuming- runs her hand through her hair for a second before speaking again. "Come on, Galadia, let's get back to training. I don't care what your mentor said about her, she's not reacting at all."

Galadia shrugs. "Okay. It's not like she has much riding on this anyway. She comes from Twelve! Her parents are probably happy she's gone because there's one less mouth to feed."

It takes a second for that to sink in. But as soon as it does, my face flushes, my fists and teeth both clench, and it takes everything in my power to not take my knives and cut this girl's face wide open.

"What the fuck did you say?"

Galadia laughs. "Oh, that your parents are better off now that you're gone."

Words cannot describe all the things I want to do to this girl. She isn't even worthy of death- just endless, horrible pain for the rest of her miserable life. But as much as I want to make this girl pay, I can't do a damn thing.

Here, at least, the trainers all have the goal of making sure the same number of children that entered this place leave it. I'd get stopped before the knife came close.

"You'll regret that, bitch," I say. "You should not have said that. I might have to take your shit in here because everyone else is watching. But once the time comes, I am fucking gunning for you. And you'll have earned every. Last. Second of what I do to you."

Galadia just laughs. "You're so cute! You think I take you seriously! Oh, please, cut your crap. I could slice you up like a dummy any day of the week. Feel free to try, though!" Then, she turns to face Clara. "I believe our work here is done, Clara. Want to carve up some more dummies?"

Clara snickers. "Is that even a question?" Then, both of them walk off, laughing all the way to the next station.

I didn't care too much about what they thought about me. Them seeing me as a non-factor only helped my chances of survival. And I've been the subject of quite a few verbal bashings before, so I can handle them by now for the most part.

But insulting my parents? That's where I draw the line. I don't care who you are or what you've done it for, I will make you fucking pay.

I know I don't really have a chance at victory, but there's one thing I want to guarantee, no matter the cost. Both of those girls will die. By my hand.

And I don't care if I have to play dirty to do it.

Nascar Galluci, District One Male

Clara is really starting to get on my nerves.

I haven't seen much of either her or Galadia since training started, and I doubt it's because they left the room. This whole angle where they try to do almost nothing except make the outliers frightened of them is starting to grate, and I know I'm not the only one of us who's thinking that way. Godric hasn't said a word to Galadia since this morning, while Sienna's been trying to keep us from turning into the pack from last year, but isn't doing an especially great job.

For now, I'm the only tribute here. I won't let anything break my focus. It's time to practice some sword skills.

Luckily for me, a trainer is more than happy to clear some space so that we can have a duel, so long as we use the rubber-coated swords placed there specifically for that purpose. The weight difference isn't all that much from the real deal, and you also don't have to worry about accidentally murdering anyone.

This trainer is actually pretty good, even by their standards, and once we charge at each other I find myself hard-pressed to avoid being hit. He's the combination of both big and fast that everyone back at the academy wanted to be, and his sword skills are nothing to sneeze at. Even though I have two swords on hand, as opposed to one, he's pressing me back, not the other way around.

However, the one advantage a smaller frame has given me is that I don't tire out nearly as quickly as this guy does. Soon, his strikes lose force, his arms shake, his form weakens. Within the space of a few seconds, I've gone from desperately fending off defeat to surging towards victory.

And then, with one final push, I knock the sword out of his hand. It goes flying for a few seconds before landing somewhere amongst the numerous racks of weapons. With that, the trainer puts his hands up in surrender, saying, "Well played." Then, he walks off, presumably to get some water and prepare for his next fight, if it ever comes up.

Despite everything else having gone wrong so far, I smile. I don't know what I was thinking that I wasn't good enough to win, although that might have just been the pre-Reaping jitters getting to me. If I could take on that guy, I can take on anything.

I turn around to go get some water myself and see Godric waiting behind me, probably to fight against the trainer himself. "Nice work, Nascar."

"Thanks," I reply. "I really needed a confidence booster."

"Well, so do I," Godric added. "Although, some of that's just because I want to know if I'll be able to survive if our pack implodes on itself."

"Hate to be a downer here," I say, "but that's probably going to be a when, not an if. Let's be honest here, I don't think either of us cares for Clara or Galadia."

Godric hesitates for a second, but then he nods. "Thankfully, they're not around right now, so I can say what I think. The training footage is confidential, right?"

"I haven't seen any, so I'll assume yes," I respond.

"Good," Godric says. "Galadia might be the most insufferable person I've ever met, and Clara, well… I know she's on our side and all, but she kind of freaks me out. Maybe it's the eyes or something, but she just makes me really uncomfortable."

"Nice, I'm not the only one," I say. "At least now I know I'm probably not going crazy."

"Probably?"

I snicker a little. "Who the hell knows at this point? For all I know, everything she's doing is rubbing off on me."

Godric's smile suddenly vanishes. "Yeah, I really hope Galadia doesn't rub off on me. For all I know, it's just turning me into a carbon copy of my dad. And that's just about the last thing I want here."

"Well, same here, unfortunately," I say. "If I turned into my dad, let's just say our pack would turn out like one of those awful romantic comedies they show every winter. And I'm sure as hell nobody would want that."

Unfortunately for me, Godric doesn't appear to be listening anymore- he's picked up a sword of his own, prepared to duke it out with the trainer just like I did. As the replacement of whoever fought me steps out- Cutter, to my surprise- Godric steps into the ring. "Wish me luck. It looks like I'll need it."

"Good luck with your fight," I say, before walking away in an arbitrary direction.

Well, that got super heavy, super fast. However, that's the closest thing to an actual conversation I've had with any of the Careers, including Clara, so something tells me we might end up sticking together.

I mean, it has to be better than what would happen if I stuck with Clara, right?

Catarina Lynn, District Five Female

In less than three days, I've turned back into a mother again.

Spark may be a little less likely to burn himself on a hot stove than any of my siblings, but the competency ends there. I get that going into a literal death match is really stressful. I understand that being sized up by people who have trained all their lives to kill kids like you is terrifying. But if you want to be seen as having even a shred of a chance, you need to stay calm, stay focused, and not let anything get to you. So far, I've been trying hard to achieve all three, but Spark is struggling on all accounts so far.

We've returned to the Trap Pit for the last time today, and Spark is absent-mindedly switching between building some sort of trap centered around sharp objects, staring at the vicious fight going on between the boy from Two and a trainer, and just fiddling with parts for no particular reason. And his trap is so oddly put together that I'm seriously wondering whether he started building a toaster by mistake.

"Uh, I think you're missing some of the sharp parts," I say. "Spikes or whatever they call them here."

"Got it, I'll add some," he mumbles in my general direction before picking up seven or eight and beginning to nail them down in spots that almost look random.

Around us, everyone's wrapping up. The girl from Seven drops off the climbing wall. Both the kids from Ten exit their simulated scenario and begin to head for the door. The boy from Twelve crawls out of his makeshift shelter. Meanwhile, Spark's still trying to cobble something together before time runs out.

The trickle of people has turned into a full-blown stream by the time Spark finishes. We both drag a dummy over to the motion simulator and start the rickety old thing up. With a horrible screech, the mass of burlap posing as a human gets dragged towards the trap, and we get our hopes up that finally, this trap will be the one that proves our worth.

To Spark's credit, it does spring this time as soon as the dummy's "leg" brushes it. It'd be a great trap... if it actually did a damn thing. The dummy goes right through the trap, but it emerges without a scratch. Before we have time to try and fix the trap for another run, we're being called to the center of the Training Room by Cutter.

"Come on, Spark, we have to go," I say. Thankfully, Spark can comprehend it this time, putting down the tools he was using in a somewhat orderly manner before staggering alongside me to the center of the room, where everyone else has already clumped together in something vaguely resembling a circle, Cutter right in the center.

Once we arrive, Cutter launches into his speech. "To those of you standing here today, congratulations. You've made it through the first two days of training. Technically, you have a day left, but since we're breaking at lunch for private sessions, it's really a half day. So, you only have four hours tomorrow. Make the most of it. Cover anything you've always wanted to try. Get ready for your private sessions. Make some new friends. It doesn't matter how you spend it, but it'd be to your benefit to use them as best as possible. That's all from me. Head back to your floors, enjoy your dinner, and all that other good stuff."

Most of the others are wrapped up in a mad dash to be the first ones into the elevators. However, the two of us hang back, not particularly worried when we're getting back up.

"Catarina," Spark says, "Now I'm really worried that no one's going to sponsor us."

"Relax," I say, but I'm not sure how close that is to making an empty statement. Sure, Spark's become helpful less and less the closer we draw to the Bloodbath, but it's not like I've been much better. Unless we get really, really lucky, we're headed straight for the territory of below-average, and even being an alliance won't get us too far with sponsors after that.

"We'll just have to keep it together for a fifteen-minute private session," I say. "If you can do that, we'll get enough sponsors to keep us going, at least. It's not like I'm predicting top-of-the-line scores for either of us."

"Well," Spark says, "In that case, what are you predicting that we get?"

"I'm shooting for a five," I say. "I know it's low, but I'm trying to be just a bit realistic. At least a five will show that I'm competent at something. Competent at what, they won't know, but at least I won't be considered a lost cause."

Spark's eyes become a bit more focused again. "And me?"

"If you keep your cool," I say, "I could totally see you getting a six or even a seven. I mean, you're three times my size, you can't get that way without some kind of muscle strength. Even if you just carry something heavy around the room, that has to be a good sign for some of the Gamemakers."

In a move I've been seeing less and less frequently, Spark manages to smile. "Wow. I didn't know you thought that highly of me."

"Some of it's that," I respond, "but the rest comes from logic. I'm trying to be as realistic as possible here."

"Well, it's nice that your logic works that way," Spark says.

Just like that, the wait for the elevators has dissolved to virtually nothing. The boy and girl from Nine are the only kids still waiting as we move to the elevators. Once the doors open, we all step in, exhausted and hungry.

However, maybe what I did got to Spark. Maybe tomorrow, we'll manage to do something great and impress everyone. It's impossible to know for sure right now, obviously. (If it was, I'd have made a fortune already.)

Once we step back out of the elevator on our floor and leave the kids from Nine alone, the day has officially ended for us. Only one left to go.

Here's to hoping it's better than the first two.

Alliance Tracker:

Careers: Nascar, Clara, Godric, Galadia, Sienna

Anti-Careers: Faolan, Artesia, Thomiah, Odysea

Opposites Attract: Spark, Catarina

One-Way Romance: Marius, Toren

The Tough Girls: Alexa, Lacey

Unaligned (for now): Rhaemyr, Sotia, Vick, Remi, Zari, Aryion, Romeo, Maxxer, Fox

Author's Notes:

-Not much to say this time, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway. See you next chapter!