Chapter 2: Three, Two, F*** You
"All right, then. Interview content. Since you've clearly got a mind of your own, why don't you tell me your angle so I don't waste my time trying to come up with one?"
Helvius leaned back on the sitting room couch and smirked. "I figured I'd just be myself. Unless you have a problem with that?"
"Ugh." Cashmere stopped prowling around the room and dropped down into a cushy chair. Her nose wrinkled. "That might work, actually."
When she didn't elaborate, leaving an awkward pause for a minute, Helvius ventured, "What do you mean, actually?"
The corner of her mouth twitched into a slight grin, and she leaned forward. "Helvius, answer me this. What has been the...let's say pattern...of the Games since the Third Quarter Quell?"
He didn't have to think about it long. "A One, Two, or Four always wins. Except for the Seventy-Sixth...but that was a fluke, wasn't it?"
"It certainly was. That Three boy didn't last a year after his victory. But other than that, counting the Seventy-Fifth...We've had two Victors from One, three from Two, and two from Four. All Careers. All strong, fierce, good-looking, popular…" She hesitated for a moment, blinked a few times, then continued, "...and it's getting a bit...boring."
"But the Capitol likes them."
"Of course they like them. What's not to like?" Cashmere snorted. "The formula is good for a while, nice to return to. It was needed after...those Games. You know the one. But at times, shaking things up a bit is fun. For the Capitolites."
"Your point being…?"
She huffed. "I'm beginning to think you're stupid. My point is, a seventeen-year-old tribute from One, who sabotaged another boy in order to volunteer, who got himself removed from the Career pack and has the highest training score of the year...that's interesting. All that to say...yes. Be yourself. But without getting yourself into trouble, please."
"Sounds good to me. Can I go now?" A nap would be nice.
Looking resigned, Cashmere said, "Absolutely not. I don't trust you enough to go out there without practicing your responses to likely questions."
It went well for a while, despite Cashmere's near-constant head-shaking. "Deranged," she muttered at one point. "But entertaining. Keep it up."
Helvius was starting to feel rather pleased with his quick, easy answers when Cashmere, still playing the part of famed interviewer Caesar Flickerman...Which she is weirdly good at...asked, "If you win these Games, and go home to your new grand house in One's Victor's Village, is there anyone you would invite to live with you there?"
He stiffened.
"Child, you're going to be the death of me! Get down from there!"
"...No." It came out with too much force. Damn it.
Cashmere stared at him for far too long before launching into the next...thankfully unrelated...question.
It took him a couple minutes to get his answers up to his previous standard. Caesar better not ask me that question.
As it happened, Caesar did not.
The next evening, dressed up in a fitted white suit with gold accents, Helvius joined the rest of the tributes on the stage in front of the Training Center for the tribute interviews.
Gossamer was the very first up, and the fact that she'd had plenty of decorum and content lessons before coming to the Capitol seemed very obvious. Her dark purple-and-gold dress was less revealing than many that had been seen on that stage before, but still just sexy enough.
Even I can see that. Lucky we get the good stylists in One, I suppose.
He forced a neutral expression as Gossamer spent her interview acting equal parts alluring and fierce, much to the delight of the Capitol. Then it was Helvius's turn.
After the initial greeting, the first thing Caesar said was, "Here we have a particularly determined volunteer! Don't try to deny it! We all saw what you did at the Reaping!"
Helvius let himself grin. "What can I say, Caesar? I like to make an entrance."
"You certainly did that! I must ask; what inspired you to do such a thing? A year early than most of your district's volunteers, no less!"
Be yourself.
"Truth is, I'm not very popular with anyone back home. Once I made up my mind to volunteer, I figured I should take the opportunity as soon as possible. I'm strong enough to win already; why wait another year?"
The crowd loved that.
Caesar himself laughed. "Your training score would certainly seem to back up your claims! Eleven." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Now, I know you're not supposed to tell us what happened there…"
"I'd love to, but rules are rules, right?" Helvius let out a chuckle of his own. "You'll get an idea of what happened soon enough."
"Oh, I for one cannot wait! But your overall strategy; can I ask about that? Will you be taking a role in the usual strong alliance?"
"No, I won't."
"Because?"
"Even if I'd wanted to join, the other volunteers kicked me out before I could even ask." He snorted. "Told you I wasn't popular."
Capitol audience found that hilarious for some reason, although Caesar almost looked concerned. But he soon got back on track. He asked a couple more questions about how exactly that conversation had gone, which Helvius took as an opportunity to insult each of the other Careers right where it would hurt most.
Sure, they're all deadly. But from what I've seen, Gossamer's vapid, Felix from Two is stupid, his district partner would break her face if she tried to smile, and the Four pair are related to each other and spoiled as hell.
He did think that the level to which the Capitolites enjoyed a joke about incest was a bit concerning.
After the laughter died down, Caesar "Now, Helvius, let's circle back. What inspired you to volunteer in the first place? What is going to drive you to excel in the Games?"
Helvius let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, Caesar, it's my parents."
"Oh, really? Can you elaborate?"
Another smirk growing on his face, Helvius said, "To be honest...pardon my language, but...they're fucking awful. They didn't want children at all. They only had me for the sole purpose of maybe getting a Victor in the family...which is fair enough, I suppose; lots of people would love a Victor as a child, I'm sure. That's not the bad part." Cashmere did tell me to be diplomatic for that bit; no getting into trouble and so on…"But the thing is that, when I didn't turn out to be a perfect, obedient robot, they decided they'd just me over and over again, every day, that I would never amount to anything, not even in what they had wanted me to do in the first place. All that when they weren't just ignoring me, of course."
As gasps and scandalized murmurs sounded through the crowd, Helvius looked straight into the nearest camera he could see and said, "I know I said this when we said our goodbyes, but I'll say it again for the rest of Panem to hear. You're both disgusting, in more ways than one. I'm going to win this, get all the riches, all the glory...and you'll never have any of it. Fuck you."
The buzzer went off shortly thereafter, and as Helvius took his seat again with the other Careers' glares all upon him, Gossamer leaned over and hissed, "I'm going to gut you, you piece of shit."
He looked her dead in the eye and said, "You'll have to catch me first."
Because if what he'd observed in training was any indication, he was a faster runner and climber than all of them.
Between that and the bow and arrows I'm planning on getting, taking them out shouldn't be too hard at all.
One of the few things Cashmere said to him before they parted ways after the interviews was, "Eat as much as you can on the hovercraft."
"Damn, you're really obsessed with getting me to eat, aren't you?"
"Are you able to take advice without making snarky comments about it?"
"Guess not."
"Ugh. Just don't get yourself killed in the first few minutes. Gloss would never let me live it down."
But he did eat a big breakfast as she'd instructed.
Because I'm hungry. And I guess she's right.
In the Launch Room under the Arena, Portia showed up to help him into his tribute uniform: plain underwear, black fleece-lined pants with a belt, a white t-shirt, a light green, fleecy, zip-up jacket, a dark green raincoat, and lightweight black boots made of some kind of waterproof synthetic material. From all of this, the stylist gathered that the Arena would likely be wet.
Not very specific, but whatever.
She commented on his lack of district token while he nibbled on the cheese and crackers she offered, but he didn't respond. Why would I need one?
It wasn't long before it was time to mount the pedestal, hear his stylists muted "good luck," and watch the curved glass walls descend around him. Stick to the plan.
Less than a minute later, as Claudius Templesmith's booming voice announced the beginning of the Games, Helvius got his first look at the Arena and almost laughed.
Looks like I am going to need those climbing skills.
The shiny gold Cornucopia, encircled by the tribute pedestals, sat on a plateau of grayish stone about sixty yards across. The edge dropped off sharply, with the only clear way off being several suspended board walkways with rope railings that led off into the trees.
The giant trees.
The plateau was so high that the walkways went straight out into a forest canopy of branches emerging from tree trunks a yard or more thick. Shiny green conifer needles coated the ends of every twig. The dappled lighting told Helvius that the sun was shining, but when he looked up, he could only see small patches of blue sky.
It's not raining yet.
As the requisite sixty seconds ticked by, he turned his attention the Cornucopia. Lots of supplies crates, lots of backpacks, lots of weapons...Aha. There it is.
The sleek black bow and matching quiver of arrows was right out in the open, laying atop a large crate as if they were waiting for him. And not far past them is that big blue backpack…
He had his plan mapped out well before the gone rang.
And, just as he'd suspected, he made it to the Cornucopia ahead of the rest.
Take that, Gossamer.
He didn't waste time on anything besides the bow, arrows, and blue backpack. He had the bow in hand, the quiver over one shoulder, the backpack over the other, and was on his way to the nearest walkway right as most of the other tributes risking the Bloodbath reached the Cornucopia. A couple rushed past him without trying to engage; he ignored them.
As he reached the edge of the plateau, he stopped short of stepping onto the walkway and turned. The first person he saw was Felix, Two's male tribute, who was at the edge of the Cornucopia mouth, tossing aside a small, limp figure that looked like the girl from Twelve.
Letting his backpack fall to the ground for a moment, Helvius drew an arrow and fitted it to the bowstring.
Feels almost just like the ones from the Academy. Excellent.
He pulled the string back and took aim. Across the stretch of rock between them, he saw Felix's gaze fall upon him. Even from a distance, the expression of dawning horror was obvious.
Helvius let the arrow fly.
Helvius didn't even wait to see the boy from Two hit the ground with an arrow in his chest. Instead, he swept up the backpack and took off running. The walkway swayed a bit under his feet, but the railings and his own sense of balance kept him confident enough to keep up his speed. He only slowed briefly to adjust his heavy pack and quiver better on his shoulders.
One down. Two if I count the Twelve girl. Twenty-one left to go.
The course of the walkway wasn't straight, and it wasn't curved, either; it had sharp corners and turns around trees. Before long, the Cornucopia plateau was long out of sight.
After a while, he slowed to a jog, weighing his options. Stay on the path? Easier, but there's more likely to be other tributes on it at some point. Get off and go into the trees? Most of these branches are big and numerous enough for relatively easy climbing.
What glimpses he caught of the ground below told him that a misstep while climbing would mean a fall of at least a hundred feet if not more.
Yet as the canopy around and above him got thicker, the best choice became clear. Into the canopy we go.
Slinging the bow over his shoulder, he ducked under the rope and hopped down onto a foot-wide branch, grabbing the very top spire of a smaller tree to balance himself. Slow and steady.
Slow and steady got him maybe a couple miles away from the walkway and higher into the branches before evening fell. As the forest began to become very dark, Helvius found a large natural platform of sorts cradled against in branches against the trunk of a particularly huge tree. Ferns, moss, and thick tree debris formed a solid enough base that withstood Helvius's weight and some experimental stomping besides.
Feels even more solid than the walkway. I'll take it. I've even got a decent view of a patch of sky.
That would be useful, in a sense. It wouldn't be long until the anthem, and the death recap.
He sat down with his back against the deeply furrowed bark of the tree trunk and went through his supplies. Going for the backpack as well as the weapons had been a good choice. It held not only two full half-gallon jugs of water, but several packages of lightweight food, a sleeping bag, a folded-up tarp, a solid knife with one serrated and one straight edge, and a basic first aid kit.
I've also got twenty-three arrows and a good bow to shoot them with. Not a bad start.
The recap began as he was gnawing on beef jerky and a chocolate-flavored protein bar between sips of water. The boy from District Two was shown first, followed by both tributes from Three, both from Five, the girl from Six, the boy from Seven, both from Eight, and the girl from Twelve.
Make that thirteen left to go.
Any further thoughts that Helvius might have had on the Bloodbath deaths were quickly overwhelmed by his need to sleep. The last thing he remembered as he lay among the ferns, wrapped in his sleeping bag, was seeing the stars above disappear behind encroaching clouds.