Train Rides

Five

Metris shut the door behind her and sank to the ground as Bellamy continued to strategize just down the corridor with Krynne and Mirella supplementing his thoughts along the way. She had been there at first, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't the one being addressed. She kept feeling like she was butting in every time she said something, like she had to prove something to all of them. It was a familiar feeling. And more than anything else, Metris did not tolerate being anyone's sloppy seconds. She could do this alone, like she always had.

"Leave her be," Krynne chastised. Bellamy pursed his lips but nodded nonetheless. Metris had left the room fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago, and all the while he couldn't help but think that it'd be better for both of them if she were here. He didn't know her. He didn't plan on forging some death pact with her. And he sure as hell didn't trust her. But having someone from home, having someone who comes from the same world as you? He knew how much that meant. More importantly, he knew how much it could help him down the road. That's all that really mattered, anyway.

Six

"Is this really necessary?" Scarlet muttered as soon as Thorin closed the door to the bathroom behind him. "We're nothing alike. He volunteered for this. I don't need that kind of mental instability messing up my chance of living. I want to be trained separately," she growled, but she knew it sounded more like pleading. But the sentiment was all but true; this was her life on the line, and she wasn't about to let some creep from the streets ruin that for her.

"You could learn something from him," Vixen reasoned, her voice distorted slightly by the wall of the bathroom. "You never know. Good things come in damaged packages." Thorin nestled his head in his arms and did his best to muffle his own silent sobs from reaching his mentors and tribute partner outside. He had volunteered for a chance to feel accepted, to make his own place. But nothing had changed, not yet. And maybe he should've expected that. Maybe he should just accept what he was: an outcast.

Seven

Maisyn gaped as the door of her closet swiveled open. "No way," she uttered, hardly enough air in her system to get the sound across. "This is for me?!" she squealed, very much full of air this time. Lambert visibly sunk as he took a seat on her bed. She wasn't blind. Clearly, he was regretting picking her as his tribute. The sting of that notion faded almost instantly, though. She didn't need someone else telling her what she was worth, what she was capable of. Especially not someone who didn't realize that this façade, this excitability, was just her way of coping. Of getting through the day.

Wava pursed her lips as Halvard stayed largely inattentive, still gazing longingly outside the window. "I guess I'd want strong allies," he murmured halfheartedly. "Loyal, too, I guess." He was still in shock, really. Every now and then, he would blink hard, trying to force himself to wake up from this bizarre, overly realistic dream. But he was here. And deep down he knew that. He knew that getting out of this, escaping the Games, would require him to be someone he wasn't. Not anymore. He would have to go back to a place that he tried to forget. And he didn't know if he could stop being that person once he started again.

Eight

Tarryn laughed, surprised at the sincerity of the sound that filled the room. Ren chuckled beside her as he kept on mocking the other tributes in the reaping recap. "Look, I'm twelve and defiant. Plus I'm a ginger, so I don't have a soul to lose. Hah! I've got these Games all figured out!" he cried, mocking the young girl from Six. She hadn't expected to be genuinely happy on her way to the Games. Even the thought of that didn't bother her, not yet. Maybe it was too far away. Maybe she hadn't truly come to terms with what was going to happen. Maybe it was better this way.

Ren sighed as the reapings went to commercial break, readily catching his breath between laughs. It felt natural, almost. It felt like he was at home, ridiculing the tributes with his friends like they did every year. But he wasn't at home, and this wasn't his friend, he reminded himself. Tarryn was an asset, and he knew that. He knew that when the time came, she would lose her value, and he would cut her loose. That was what he knew he had to do. He just didn't know if he could actually do it.

Nine

"Separate," Kiefer answered immediately, ignoring the pointed look Kristopher gave as she said so. "No offense or anything, but I work alone." Arly nodded getting ready to head down the corridor with her. "That means you, too, sweetie," Kiefer called out. "When I said alone, I meant it." Kiefer hardly trusted these people to get her to the Capitol, let alone with her life in the Games. Plus, Arly and Cassian were practically on suicide watch, and Kristopher reeked of awkward desperation and disorientation. She was better off on her own.

Kristopher put on his best sad face as Kiefer sauntered off into her room. "Guess I have twice the help now, huh?" he murmured quietly, forcibly placing a quiver in his voice. His mentors laughed and said their agreement, but regarding these two, Kiefer was right. Arly and Cassian would slow him down, but alienating them this early meant losing two pawns in his elongated game of chess. He was a pawn, too. As was Kiefer. He salivated at the thought of being the last pawn standing, of skinning and scalping anyone along the way. But he wasn't delusional. He needed every chess piece he could get his hands on to ensure he was the last one alive.

Ten

Arleen locked the door behind her as she entered the pantry. She tried to stop her hand from shaking, but it was no use. She was exerting all her force trying not to burst into tears. That, and trying not curse out everyone on the train, in the Capitol, at home. Everywhere. It was hard not to blame everyone else when she had no fault in the matter. She was here because a slip of paper with her name on it found the fingers of some old hag from the Capitol. Didn't she have the right to be mad?

"I don't know," Declan murmured, rubbing his temples slowly as Brit continued to press him with questions he couldn't even fathom. What he'd do if a tribute did that, if Caesar asked that, if the Gamemakers put that into the arena. He was just confused, and more than ever, alone. Brit saw him as a number, Arleen was off cursing the world surely, and he was still here. Trying to maintain some sanity. But he couldn't do this alone. Declan always had a team behind him, a support group that would take him to the stars and back if he needed. Now, he didn't have anyone that he trusted to get him a cup of water without poisoning it. And he didn't know how to go on like this.

Eleven.

"You're here for you, and he's here for him," Avella asserted for what felt like that tenth time. "If you really want to get back home, if your family is really worth what you say it is, then you'll avoid him like the plague. Understand?" Elora nodded, but even doing that sounded off a pang of regret in her stomach. He couldn't even hear the advice that his mentor was trying to give him. There was no solace for Abner here; there was no one anything could really give him. But not even trying felt cruel, something a monster would do. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Perhaps that was who she needed to become.

Abner stared out the window, watching as the trees of Eleven zoomed by him. As his home, his whole life, said goodbye. He felt the weight of the plush couch shift as his mentor took a seat across from him. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Reading lips was second nature, but reciprocating words was almost impossible. He'd always helped other people and done what they asked, but now, he was the one that needed help. He was the one that needed to accomplish something he couldn't do alone. But he was alone, and for once in his life, he felt waves of defeat crushing the fire inside him.

Twelve

Aline breathed a sigh of relief as Holland left her to her own devices. She'd always performed best under pressure, but she needed a break. She'd expected their mentors to let them rest for a moment, but the second they had entered the train, she and Duke had been hauled to separate rooms and were instantly grilled on everything from Cornucopia strategy to personal weaknesses. Across the hall, she watched Duke lay down on his bed, covering his face with his hands. At first, she'd thought they were complete opposites, what with his social front juxtaposing her cold exterior. But as she watched his stress mirror her own, she couldn't help but wonder how true that was.

Duke hopped out of bed and knocked on Aline's open door. "Can I come in?" She nodded with a curious expression on her face, motioning him in. He had been worried that she'd give him the cold shoulder, but luckily enough, the ice queen seemed to have a soft spot for him. Maybe she needed someone to talk to without being berated about the Games. He sure did. His whole life was defined by making the best out of the worst, but doing that alone was always a hard task. With Aline, maybe it'd be a little less impossible.

Chariot Rides

Tarryn and Ren mocked the horses, even though their spool costumes were much more ridiculous. Maisyn gravitated towards the pair and their lighthearted spirit. But even more strongly, Maisyn gravitated towards Ren. She saw the same dark glint masked by light joy that she saw in the mirror. He did, as well.

Cohen jovially introduced himself to the pair from Four. Adelaide lagged behind, cordially introducing herself behind him. They were an intimidating pair, Vice and Aelia. And they were sorely unimpressed with the pair from One. Shaila made sure to introduce herself to her new allies before Priston made his appearance. As soon as he did, Vice and Aelia eyed each other while the others made their introductions. What had they gotten themselves into?

Elora reluctantly parted ways with Abner as the two entered the chariot area. She found a friend in Kristopher's awkward smile. Abner made a friend with his horse.

Bellamy shook his head as Metris pushed for them to introduce themselves to the Careers. "We'll come off as desperate. Let them come to us." She sneered, but ultimately stayed put. Good girl.

Scarlet did her best to scout the field for someone strong enough to protect her but weak enough to be controlled. The pair from Eight caught her eye instantly. Noted for later.

The rest of the tributes stuck to themselves in the minutes preceding their official introduction to the Capitol. Some lambs are quiet on their way to the slaughter.

Training

"We regret to inform you that we'll be parting ways with you four," Aelia said, careful to leave no track of malice in her voice. "Obviously, it's nothing personal. We just feel that we'd all benefit from going our separate ways. We hope you see where we're coming from."

Vice quietly watched the tributes from One and Two as their eyes filled first with surprise and shock, then irritation and indignation. They were so transparent. In Four, making his emotions was taught long before weapons even came into the picture. He wasn't sure what One and Two did in their free time.

Aelia smiled as they left the others. "This was the right decision," she asserted confidently. "They would've just slowed us down." Vice was getting used to the fact that Aelia's words constantly matched his own thoughts.

Adelaide pursed her lips as Vice and Aelia marched off. Now she was left with an overzealous Cohen, stony Shaila, and uncontrollable Priston. And she didn't like where this was headed. "I'm going to have to say my goodbye, as well," she said curtly, trying to ignore the betrayal in Cohen's face. "I wish you the best of luck," she added, cringing at the fakeness minced in her own words.

Shaila was very tempted to follow suit, but at this point, she realized, she was in the largest Career pack in the game. Even if it was with Priston and a slightly less intolerable Cohen, that had to mean something. "Well," she said after a brief pause, "let's get to work." Cohen tried to ignore the stinging sensation of rejection as he watched Adelaide nail dummy after dummy with her knives. Priston tried to keep up with Shaila.

Bellamy and Metris cautiously monitored the Careers as they split. "Are they just training separately?" Bellamy murmured as he continued to halfheartedly start a fire. Metris didn't understand him and all of his perfunctory habits.

"No," she responded as she gauged their movements carefully. "They've split. Three ways."

Bellamy nodded as he came to the same conclusion. "So where do we go?"

Metris scoffed. "We? I know where I'm going. Don't feel inclined to follow me." She didn't need him. She wasn't going to willingly keep playing second to some bastard who hadn't trained as much as she had. She wasn't going to be insulted like that.

Adelaide looked up cautiously and met the gaze of the girl from Five. "You look lonely," Metris said as she handed Adelaide another knife to throw. "I was wondering if you wanted a friend."

Adelaide paused before returning the knife. Metris accepted the knife and twirled it a couple of times before launching it into the chest of a faraway dummy. Impressive enough. "I suppose a friend would be nice," she responded. "Adelaide Marchal, District One."

Bellamy awkwardly shuffled his way to the largest group of Careers consisting of Cohen, Shaila, and Priston. Power in numbers, right? Shaila failed to mask the relief that glazed over her face as the competent boy from Five asked for a place in their alliance. Priston grinned at the thought of a new friend. Cohen was the only uncertain one, uncomfortable with the cold glint in the boy's eyes, but he accepted him nonetheless. He didn't have the power to do much else.

Elsewhere, Letricia found the courage to introduce herself to the jovial pair that had caught her eye at the Chariot Rides and was further perplexed by the fact they weren't even district partners. "Kristopher Runes," said the boy as he extended his hand to his newest pawn. Elora put on a smile as she carefully watched the new girl. She didn't trust her. Declan was a different story. When he approached them after demonstrating some impressive (and mildly concerning) command of a sword, Elora readily welcomed their newest addition. Letricia followed suit. Kristopher couldn't believe his luck; the four dimmest, most gullible tributes found him before he could find them.

Maisyn, Ren, and Tarryn continued to mesh well in spite of Maisyn's and Ren's constant awareness of the other's awareness. They both knew it was a dangerous circle which they traversed. Theon cautiously watched the trio before introducing himself. They were good enough. He only planned to stay awhile, anyway. Tarryn smiled as she introduced herself. Maisyn watched as Ren analyzed Theon carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, Ren did the same.

Scarlet landed another knife on the dummy. Maybe it just hit the knee, but it was good enough. To draw the attention of the unstable quartet. "Where'd you learn how to do that?" Theon asked, a hint of both worry and excitement laced in his voice.

"The playground," Scarlet bit back, rolling her eyes as she picked up another. "Here, dumbass." Their newest member ingratiated herself into their alliance with four words and a knife to the knee.

Aline and Duke largely kept to themselves. Two was more than enough to carry themselves through the Games, they told each other. Deep down, neither was ready to extend any more trust to any more people. Yet when Kiefer, with her defiant, but calm exterior, and her confident, but careful aura approached the same station, their bond was forged instantly. They had found someone who felt real, who seemed sincere, who looked trustworthy. Looks were deceiving.

Halvard noticed the mute boy from Eleven almost instantly. He knew the consequences of trying to help the helpless. But those seemed less punishing than becoming something he wasn't. Abner didn't want pity, but he bit his tongue. He needed it.

Metris and Adelaide nervously watched as several large alliances formed. They might've been above par when it came to fighting, but they both accepted that they couldn't beat a pack of five untrained kids. "That one," Metris whispered, nudging Adelaide towards the boy from Six.

"Why?"

"He'll be easy to control," Metris responded. After introducing herself and hearing Thorin's acquiescent, skittish words spill out of his mouth, she was inclined to agree.

By the end of the second day of training, Arleen was the only lone tribute in the Training Center. She didn't mind at first. She had fought through her life largely by herself, and she wasn't afraid to continue now. But she came to realize that this wasn't some extension of her life. This was a twisted distortion that played by its own twisted rules.

But she didn't know how to go about not being alone. It had become a force of habit that couldn't quite shake. Luckily, she didn't need to. As the whistle blew and the rest of the tributes began to exit, she felt a lingering presence behind her.

"It'll help if you nock the arrow higher and put the end lower," Aelia advised. The arrow launched and squarely hit the dummy in its wrist. Arleen paused as she assessed the two Careers from Four.

"You need numbers," she realized aloud.

"As do you," Vice returned. All three of them were in agreement, then.

Adelaide Marchal (D1), Metris Placquerd (D5), Thorin Robiquet (D6)

Cohen Veridie (D1), Shaila Avani (D2), Priston Thame (D2), Bellamy Glover (D5)

Letricia Kode (D3), Kristopher Runes (D9), Declan Whittacre (D10), Elora Valeyn (D11)

Theon Carter (D3), Scarlet Marlowe (D6), Maisyn Alvera (D7), Tarryn Cheverly (D8), Ren Ardaine (D8)

Aelia Paralian (D4), Vice Chevallier (D4), Arleen Gavelle (D10)

Halvard Asbjorn (D7), Abner Demerath (D11)

Kiefer Callistus (D9), Aline Carron (D12), Duke Holloway (D12)

Interviews

Adelaide curtly addressed the Career split. She built the scenario and painted herself as the proactive catalyst, not the follower. Order mattered, as it seemed.

Cohen focused on his charm, and it largely worked. His jocular nature won the hearts of the majority of the female, preteen population.

Shaila shot for the calculated, prepared Career approach. But riding on the waves that Adelaide created became increasingly difficult.

Priston jumped topics faster than Caesar could keep up. Oddly enough, the Capitol came to adore him instead of rejecting him. The feeling was new.

Letricia was cute, but largely forgettable. The Capitol was numb to sweet girls.

Theon made a splash with both his wit and his surprising transparency. He commanded a kind of control over his perception that worked wonders in winning the favor of the Capitol.

Aelia had no issue with denouncing the other Careers and telling the story as it was.

Neither did Vice.

Metris milked all the favor she could out of being a volunteer from the up-and-coming Five, but it was all she talked about. Most people didn't remember her name after a couple of tributes.

Bellamy didn't try to make a façade. He was just his regular self and hoped for the best. Luckily, he also prepared for the worst.

Scarlet was rambunctious, but everyone knew she was trying too hard. Everyone except her, apparently.

Thorin was quiet but responded with an occasionally profound statement. He made a better impression than anyone would've imagined.

Maisyn was an instant favorite; of all the tributes, she was the most accessible and relatable to the typical Capitolite. And she knew it.

Halvard was annoying. The noble crap contradicted the best parts of the Games, and it wasn't appreciated at all.

Tarryn made people laugh. Dark humor seemed to go off better in the Capitol than in Eight.

Ren made a similar discovery.

Kiefer managed to garner some favor with her no-nonsense, frank exterior. For once, being herself worked out for her.

Kristopher continued to manipulate people to see him as he saw fit. The Capitol loved Kristopher and his shy, toothy smile. No one could command the stage as quietly yet strongly as Kristopher did.

Arleen channeled her frustration into strength by coming across as brutish and ferocious. Mixed reviews came back for Arleen, but she didn't really care.

Declan was a charmer. Always had been, always will be. Nothing changed onstage for him, including his standings in the Capitol's favor. A middling favorite, but not quite there.

Elora was a sweetheart, but a cordial and intelligent one. She shined where Letricia failed; she made herself different.

Abner communicated through writing during his interview. When he asked to play hangman with Caesar, the Capitol learned to love him.

Aline was forgettable, as planned.

Duke followed suit. Both of them were glad to let the spotlight of their alliance shift to Kiefer. Less targets on their back.

The Final Night, The Launch

Aelia leaned on the windowsill of her room. Now was not the time for doubts, yet now they came.

Abner didn't sleep. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he was scared he wouldn't get to open them again.

Bellamy buried his head in his pillow. He couldn't trust the others. Shaila was lethal, and Cohen and Priston were unreliable. What was he supposed to do with them now? Why couldn't Metris just work with him?

Maisyn mindlessly flipped through the closet settings, trying her best to distract herself from thinking too much about what was about to come. It wasn't working.

Tarryn shivered on the balcony floor, where she sat alone. She thought it'd be good to step out of the enclosing walls of her room, but now, she heard the festivities of her upcoming death all too clearly. It was finally sinking in. She was going to die.

Declan prayed. He'd only been casually religious back home, but now, he was willing to resort to anything to feel better. To feel safer. To feel like he had a chance.

Thorin listened to Scarlet talk to herself through the walls of their rooms. It was becoming a habit of his.

Kristopher smiled as he settled in his bed. Soon, he thought to himself.

Letricia shuddered as she woke from a sleepless night to rays of the morning sun shining in her eyes. Too soon, she could make out the voices of her mentors in the hallway. Time was up, she realized. It was time to face the music.

Duke nodded to Aline as the two made their way to the aircraft that would be taking them to the arena. His footsteps felt heavy. Everything felt begrudgingly slow, even though time had passed so fast. He wasn't ready.

Scarlet forced herself to stop shaking as she exited the hovercraft. There was too much at stake for nerves to ruin.

Elora, on the other hand, managed only to make it to the launch room before bursting into tears. She feared death, sure. But she feared loss and pain and betrayal even more. She might not meet death. But the others were guaranteed to envelope her soon enough.

Cohen closed his eyes as he stepped on the Launchpad. No one knew what he was capable of, he told himself. That's why they didn't believe in him. He just hoped he could convince himself of that before it was too late.

Theon withheld a yelp as the screen closed behind him and he felt himself rising through the ground. Before long, the darkness faded and the blinding light of the arena met his gaze. But even more permeating than the bright sunlight of the arena was the noise. It took him awhile to realize he recognized that noise. It was the whistle of an old-fashioned train, followed shortly by the whir of the high-speed train he rode to the Capitol. In seemingly random lanes and lines above them and below them, dozens of trains zoomed across the sky, on the ground, well below them. And the tributes all stood, petrified, on an elevated train station. That was the arena. A train station.

60….

59…

58…

Shaila was among the first to get her bearings as she faced the arena. The countdown had already started, and almost no one had yet to locate their allies. Cohen was only three away from her right, and she could just make out Bellamy in the distance. Priston must've been on the other side. More importantly, Vice was right beside her.

Vice met Shaila's gaze as the two came to realize what would ensue. "How about we both leave this place alive and figure it out later?" he shouted over the horns and whistles of the trains. Shaila pursed her lips and looked away. He took that as a yes.

27…

26…

25…

Arleen narrowed in her focus on a dagger only a few feet from her. It took her awhile to realize that Ren right beside her was eyeing the same knife. She smirked at him and his worried expression, but deep down, she felt the same as he looked. Scared to die, terrified to live.

Ren quickly decided a dagger wasn't worth dying for. And as the countdown lowered, he realized nothing here was worth dying for. He tried to find his allies, but, just his luck, they were all out of sight. Only then did he start to realize that they, too, weren't worth dying for.

10…

9…

8…

Aline fell into a runner's position as she located her target: a backpack near the center of the Cornucopia. She hadn't planned on going that far in, but she could see the food and knives spilling out of the bag. It was worth the risk, she convinced herself unsteadily.

Metris followed Aline's line of sight and found the bag easily. Some things were meant to be easy.

7…

6…

5…

Adelaide closed her eyes and prepared for muscle memory to take over. Half a dozen throwing knives were displayed in a graceful fan practically at her feet. This is what the Capitol wanted. This is what she needed.

Halvard found Abner and nodded to him slowly. They weren't too far from each other. If they ran fast enough, they shouldn't have anything to worry about. He didn't notice Adelaide and her knives between them.

4…

3…

2…

Priston panicked. Shaila, Cohen, and Bellamy were all out of view, but Aelia and Adelaide were dangerously close. He looked over his shoulder and eyed a narrow corridor behind him. What was he supposed to do?

Kiefer found both Duke and a knife relatively near her. She knew which one she valued more. Hopefully, Duke would make it, too.

3…

2…

1…

0.

"Let the Forty-First Hunger Games begin!"

Author's Note: Hey. This is about two years overdue, but better late than never right? Obviously I won't be finishing this story completely, but I've always intended to wrap things up somehow. I'll do the sappy goodbye to FanFiction next chapter. Anyway, here's the first half of the Forty-First Hunger Games. Enjoy.

Until next time!

-Bo