III. Training
When Maya and I arrive at the training centre the next morning, it turns out that we are the last ones to arrive. We join the semi-circle of tributes around Atala, one of the trainers, and she explains to us the rules and gives us advice. I ignore her. I want to scope out my competition, and see who will be my potential allies and enemies.
Indiana and Brock, the boy from Two are sneering at the rest of the tributes and shooting them glares. They are undoubtedly the most vicious of the tributes this year. Offscreen, the girl from District Two doesn't look like much. If anything, she looks like a kid with a bit of muscle here and there. She's at least a few inches shorter than myself and Maya, and I can easily see myself taking on her without much difficulty. She wouldn't be a difficult kill.
No, Finnick, I scold myself, Don't think about killing. I'm almost disgusted with myself.
Instinctively, I find myself inching towards Maya, not due to fear, but because of the lingering gaze she receives from District One's male tribute. Carter is his name, I think. The way he smirks at her disturbs me; it's almost like he's proud of the fact that he's undressing my best friend mentally and there is nothing undignified with that. I'm thankful when Atala dismisses us to do whatever we want and I instantly drag Maya to the fire station.
"What was that for?" she whines, rubbing the part of her arm where I had gripped her.
"Sorry," I mutter, "Are you okay?"
"Of course I am. Why?"
"Did you not see Carter looking like he want to rip your clothes off?"
She sighs softly. "Yeah, I saw but there's not much we can do about it. If we do, we'll be at the top of their kill list."
I don't say anything because I know it's true. Building a fire is easy. Back in District Four, Maya and I would pretend to go out camping and stay at the beach by ourselves, enjoying the warmth of the sun during the daylight and lit fires at night. We cooked fish and shared stories over and over again. It never grew old. My mood instantaneously drops when I realise that this won't ever happen again. Either one or neither of us come out of this alive, and even if one of us survive, it will never be the same. I know it.
The tributes from District Seven and Nine make small talk with use, but the conversations are mostly awkward and die down after a few minutes. Mags and Shelly had told us to not join the Careers for the sixth time since we've arrived in the Capitol, and to even out the time we spend at both survival and weaponry stations. We don't argue with them, knowing that they are correct. Many tributes in the past have accidentally mistaken inedible plants for another and the result is an undignified death for their District.
The next few hours consist of more survival training - netting, which is already one of our specialities, edible plants, climbing, and all sorts of other. After lunch, we decide to try weaponry. Shelly had demanded that I teach Maya a few moves with the knife and spear as it could come in handy in the arena. There has already been an unspoken, yet certain agreement that we will stick by each other's side until the very end. The trainer at the spears station doesn't bother talking to us, probably thinking that we already have a sufficient amount of knowledge on weapons, coming from a Career District.
Weighing the spear in my hand, I realise that it's lighter than I had expected - at least five times lighter than my trident back home. I move into the stance I use whenever I spear fish with my trident and I throw at the target twenty yards away from me. The weapon punctures the shoulder of the dummy and I curse, under my breath. The Careers simply laugh, making it evident that this year, District Four is not welcome in their alliance, not that it even bothered us.
"I want to try," Maya says. She imitates my previous stance, aims and throws. Bulls eye.
I blink, attempting to process what she had just done and before I can say anything, she's throwing another spear and it hits the heart of a dummy at least thirty yards away. Even the trainer is shocked. She continues on relentlessly, hitting target after target in the deadliest areas of the bodies. With each throw, she grunts out with the effort and strength she needs puts in, but she's not as loud as I've heard Indiana be. Everyone stops to watch - every Gamemaker, every trainer and every tribute is watching the girl throwing the spears, in astonishment. Maya only misses once and it's the dummy that's the furthest away from us, but it doesn't matter. I'm mesmerised by her skill - her hidden talent - and I watch her, as if in a trance, until there are no more spears.
"Way to go. I think we just found your talent," I murmur with a smile.
She grins back at me, panting and brushes her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes. Even sweating, she is a beauty. "Well, that was fun."
"I bet it was." I give her a wink and we're off to the knives station.
Maya's a fast learner. I can easily say that, but her initial ability - or lack of ability - with the knife was horrible. It almost made me cringe when she threw a dagger, only to have it land ten yards to the right of the dummy and almost chopping off one of the trainers' ears. Despite multiple examples and lessons from both myself and the designated trainer, she understands the concept of using a throwing knife, but not to much success. We end up laughing it off and she watches me for a while before we head to the other stations.
She does considerably well with a sword, while I cannot be bothered at all to learn. Or more like, I found the perfect station for me. It's hidden but the gleam of a brand new weapon lures me and within seconds, I have an all-too-familiar trident back in my hands and I'm whacking and throwing at the dummies with all my might. Just like Maya had done with the spears.
I'm back at home. Father is teaching me the different skills on manoeuvring the trident around, looking for the best possible way out of the dummy in front of me. He scolds me when I hesitate for the slightest moment to scratch my itching nose. "It's not my fault there's so much dust," I say, and he scolds me again for being distracted. He tells me to imagine that the trident is a part of my arm and I need to utilise it the way in a way where it feels the most natural. "The trident is a part of you, Finnick," he says, "Don't you ever forget that."
I'm back on our fishing boat and I'm spearing at the fish in the ocean with my trident. There are mere vulnerable creatures and I'm the human at the top of the food chain. I'm the predator and they are the enemies. I stab a few times, at the shark that threatens to swim within a few metres of our boat and I watch as the water bubbles up with a pink foam - blood - and it sinks back into the water, defeated.
These dummies are sharks and to win, I must kill them. I'm not killing dummies. I'm killing sharks.
When I'm done, I am drenched with sweat. My bronze hair is matted down but the adrenaline is still rushing through my veins. The eight dummies aren't even dummies anymore. They are either holy or torn up into shreds from the twisting and tugging of the trident. Tatters lie all over the area that surrounds me and it's deathly silent for a few moments. I merely stare at the tributes before me who gape with wide eyes and open jaws.
"Well, what are you looking at?" I snap, "There's nothing here."
Only the Careers linger back. "Don't bother," Maya says, "We're not joining."
It isn't surprising that they're angered - furious, more like - but it doesn't bother us. We just ignore them as if they don't exist and most unusually, laugh at how easily riled up they are.
"Finnick Odair."
I stand up, stiffly with my head held up high. I'm not afraid.
At least, I think I'm not.
"Good luck," Maya whispers before I enter the training room.
Without the trainers and tributes, it looks much more spacious and intimidating than it usually did. My palms being to sweat and my heart beats erratically. "I'm Finnick Odair from District Four."
I grab a handful of knives, testing the weight of each one by tossing it in the air and catching it by the handle without much effort. And then, I throw. I hit bulls eye eight out of nine throws.
I don't particularly do well with spears. I hit the arm and leg but nowhere fatal enough to do much damage so I end up using the trident, despite knowing that it won't be provided in the arena.
A half hour later, Maya, the stylists, Venala, Mags, Shelly and I are gathered in the living room of our floor, watching the scores. Apparently, Maya had shown off her spear throwing and sword fighting, which will undoubtedly give her a brilliant score. Carter and Indiana receive a ten and nine, respectively. The female tribute from District Two receives an average score of eight and Brock receives a nine. District Three both get fives and when it's our turn, I take it a breath.
"Finnick Odair… A ten!" Caeser Flickerman announces. I close my eyes for a brief second and breathe out again. Mags rubs my arm, soothingly and gives me an encouraging smile, as does everyone else.
"Maya Cresta…" Caeser cocks a salmon pink eyebrow and exclaims, "Eleven!"
The girl stares at the screen unbelievingly and blinks. "We did it!" she screams and tackles me into a hug. I laugh and enjoy her embrace, wrapping my arms around her waist. Venala, the mentors and the stylists shower us with compliments and applause.
"What you did must have been awesome!" I exclaim.
She nods, modestly and says, "Not really. I just showed what I learnt and what you taught me."
When I sleep that night, I thrash around in my bed, kicking and screaming, according to Mags. I see myself killing my own best friend in cold blood. I watch her beg for me to spare her life and I watch myself forcing her to suffer. I end up waking up in cold sweat with tears pouring down my cheeks when I finally come to the realisation that Maya will be one of the sharks in the arena.
A/N: Hey! I don't really have much to say here except to say thank you for the great reviews :) Also, updates will be sporadic. There won't be a specific day I update everyday or anything. I usually have things popping up, so I apologise in advance for any late/slow updates in the future. I will, however, try to make them a consistent length each time. This isn't a very good chapter but I hope that it's alright :)