The tube glided smoothly up through seemingly solid ground, and the next second I was blinking in the bright sunlight. My pulse quickened; I knew I had a mere sixty seconds to prepare myself for the bloodbath.
First things first. See where you are. My eyes quickly roved the area. There was a lake a few hundred feet away from the Cornucopia — undoubtedly that was where we, the Careers, would live and keep our supplies, as it was an easy source of water. Next I moved my gaze to the tree line. Dammit. It seemed that this arena was mostly forest, which would give Blueberry an advantage since she spent most of her primitive life crawling around in the woods for dead possums or whatever. Cursing under my breath, I swiveled my gaze to the other side of the arena. It seemed to simply drop off into nothing, but I sensed that that was not the case. Interesting. That would have to be investigated later.
Looking around at the other tributes, I found myself locking eyes with Cato from across the field. He could be dead in less than a minute from now, I thought to myself, surprised and irritated that this caused a flood of — could it be anguish? — coursing through me. By the panicked expression on his face, it seemed that he was thinking the same thing about me.
I broke our gaze, giving myself a mental shake. There couldn't be more than twenty-five seconds left before the buzzer sounded, and I had more important things to worry about. Quickly, I scanned all the loot that the Cornucopia contained. Food, tents, weapons, flashlights even luxuries like sugar. I might actually be able to live quite comfortably during these games. My eyes narrowed in on the mouth of the Cornucopia, which held in it over a dozen knives, sharpened to perfection. I would have to get my fair share before Clove took the lot.
Suddenly, I noticed a shiny new bow and arrow sitting about forty yards in. Beads of sweat breaking out on my forehead, I scanned the crowd for Blueberry and saw her staring in determination at them. Oh hell yes, here we go.
My muscles twitched in anticipation. At that moment, every fiber of my being was focused on one single goal: get to the bow and arrows. All I wanted was to watch the life fade from her eyes as I killed her with her very own weapon of choice. Let's show all those sponsors who the real threat is here, Blueberry.
I could almost taste the tension that hung heavy in the air as the final seconds ticked away. No one spoke; the only sound was the occasional nervous gulp from one of the weaker tributes.
Then the gong rang out, and all thought was wiped from my mind. My feet flew off of the metal plate almost of their own accord, and I was sprinting flat out towards the Cornucopia, blood pounding in my ears, my pigtails gliding through the air behind me like blonde ribbons.
In less than ten seconds, my hand closed triumphantly around the metal shaft of the bow. In one fluid motion, I slung the pack of arrows onto my back, grabbed a knife laying a few feet away (just in case), and then spun around to face Blueberry, who I was sure would be right behind me. To my surprise and chagrin, she was a ways away, backing away from Clove, who was advancing on her with a knife. Oh well, at least she'll be dead, even if it wasn't me who killed her, I thought wryly, enjoying the sight of the crippling fear on Blueberry's face.
However, my amusement turned to chagrin when Clove somehow lodged her knife in Blueberry's backpack as the latter sprinted into the tree line. Fantastic, now she got away and had a weapon! Shrieking in frustration, I turned and drove my knife into the back of the nearest tribute, the boy from District 5 who had been hastily collecting the jars of food scattered around. His body contorted in anguish as I pulled the knife out, then he fell to the ground and did not move again.
A funny feeling rushed through me as I stared down at his limp body, at the open eyes that would see no more. He was the first person that I had ever killed, and although I had trained my whole life for it, I was not used to actually ending a life. My brow furrowed in confusion — could this be what guilt felt like?
A noise behind me pulled me from my reverie. Instincts taking over, I spun on my toes and drove the knife right into the heart of the girl from District 7. As she keeled over, I snorted. Nice try, amateur. As if she could sneak up on me.
I felt no guilt about my second kill. Maybe assassination was simply an acquired taste.
I ran into the Cornucopia which, to my extreme pleasure, had a whole wall devoted to glossy throwing knives of varying lengths, all sharpened to perfection. Clove had already taken some, but I picked out my favorite half-dozen, admiring the shiny blades that gleamed as though they couldn't wait to be lodged in someone's back. I wrapped a belt that hung nearby around my waist, carefully placing my new prized possessions in the loops.
After that, I was off. I flew around in a whirl, stowing the best supplies inside the Cornucopia, slashing tributes as I flipped over their heads, finishing off the feebly stirring ones on the ground. Cato, Clove, Marvel, and I were unstoppable — Cato was ruthless with his swords, Marvel threw his spear with such force that it could have skewed a wild boar, and Clove's aim with the knives (although I hated to admit it) was flawless. The District 4 tributes killed their fair share as well, though they paled in comparison to the likes of us.
The air was thick with screams and hung heavy with the smell of blood. At one point, I was bending over, checking out what was inside a backpack, when I happened to glance over at Cato. He was too busy pulling his sword out of a dead tribute to notice the boy from District 8 creeping up behind him, slowly raising a fearsome-looking axe over his head.
The blood drained from my face. "Cato, duck!" I screamed, launching a knife across the field towards the pair.
He did not even hesitate when he heard my voice, hitting the ground immediately. The knife whistled through the air and landed directly in the heart of the District 8 boy, who staggared backwards and dropped his axe, a look of surprise on his face. Within two more seconds, he was laying lifeless on the ground.
Cato jumped to his feet quickly, giving me a look of surprise and gratitude. "You saved my life," he said, too softly for me to hear from such a distance — I had to read his lips to understand him.
I nodded briskly, then quickly turned away and continued wreaking havoc on the other tributes, irritated at the flood of relief that had gone through me when Cato's life was no longer in danger.
After ten seconds, ten minutes, ten years — time loses all meaning when you're fighting for your life — the scene was finally still. Cato, Clove, Marvel, Nettie, Marlin and I met by the Cornucopia, all of us panting and glistening with sweat. Nettie had a good sized gash on her leg and Marvel's shirt was torn, but other than that, none of us looked too much worse for the wear.
I broke the silence first. "Good work, team," I said, grinning coyly.
Most of the other tributes just nodded Curtly, but Cato returned my grin. "You're not too bad with a knife, Glim."
"I guess you don't completely suck with a sword," I fired back, smirking.
Our banter was interrupted by a sound from behind us. We turned to see the District 3 boy stirring feebly — it appeared that he had just been knocked out instead of killed.
Marlin rolled his eyes. "I'll take care of this one," he muttered.
As he advanced on the boy, however, I remembered what I had deduced during training. "Stop!" I shrieked, launching myself between Marlin and the boy.
He looked at me incredulously. "What the hell, Glimmer? Get out of the way." He attempted to brush me aside, but I stood my ground.
"This boy is a genius," I said firmly, my arms outstretched on either side of me, shielding District 3 Boy. "We have the brawn, but we need the brains too. We keep him, and outsmarting all of the other tributes will be a hell of a lot easier."
Cato, Clove, Marvel, and Nettie all looked thoughtful, but Marlin wasn't buying it. "We don't need some little nerd's help. Let me just finish him off and make it eleven dead in the first day!" Marlin tried to go around me, but I began to protest again. Losing his patience, he knocked me roughly to the ground and raised his spear over the District 3 boy, who let out a feeble yell of panic.
Suddenly, Marlin froze, emiting a low gasp. Six pairs of eyes stared in shock at the sword tip protruding from his chest. Then, before a single word was uttered, he crumpled to the ground, twitched, and was still. Cato stood above him, pulling his sword out of Marlin's chest.
"Glimmer said not to touch District 3 Boy, and Marlin didn't listen," Cato said harshly, staring around at Clove, Nettie, and Marvel, all who were watching in openmouthed shock. "Does anyone else have a problem with letting him live?" he continued, his voice dangerously soft.
The rest of the Careers all shook their heads quickly as the cannon began to fire. Including Marlin's, there had been eleven deaths on the very first day.
I got back to my feet and walked over to the shaking District 3 boy. "What's your name?" I asked kindly, crouching beside him.
"Fl—Flux," he answered, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.
"Well, Flux, we're going to need some help here." I gave him one of my most winning smiles. "We have a whole lot of food, but no way to ensure its protection. Is there any way you can think of to help us with that? Any contraption you could build, or something?"
Flux, clearly realizing that this was a matter of life and death for him, furrowed his brow, thinking hard. I could almost hear his brain whirring as he looked around. Suddenly, his eyes landed on the metal starting plates, and his face brightened. "Yes," he said confidently. "I know exactly how to do that."
I followed his gaze, not understanding. "What…" Then my mouth dropped open, forming a perfect O. "Flux, you're a genius!" I squealed, almost giddy.
"Could one of you geniuses fill the rest of us in, please?" Clove called in annoyance. She, Marvel, Nettie, and Cato had been watching the two of us dumbfoundedly.
"The mines." I turned to them excitedly, helping Flux to his feet. "The mines under the plates. Flux can put them around the food and create a trap!"
Their eyes lit up. "Wow," said Marvel, stunned. "That's, like, really brilliant."
Our excitement was interrupted by a rustling in the trees at the edge of the forest. Instantly, we were all facing the noise, weapons in hand, crouched and ready to annihilate any straggler that thought they could hang around and steal some of our food.
To my immense shock, the person who stumbled out of the woods, arms raised to show that he wasn't attacking, was none other than the boy from District 12. He stopped about 20 feet from our group. Silenced stretched as we stared at each other, each waiting for the other to break it.
Eventually, he spoke. "I want to join," he said, his voice surprisingly steady.
Cato laughed loudly, although it was completely void of humor. "And what makes you think we want you, Twelve?" he asked, cracking his knuckles.
Twelve maintained his ground, holding our gazes with confidence. "Because," he said, crossing his strong arms. "I can take you to her."