Chapter 24:
Back in the Training Center Tower, Haymitch puts on the replay of the interviews, and the group of us sits through them grudgingly. Prim shines. I briefly worry that her bold statement about disliking violence will come back to haunt her before realizing that she was probably doomed long before that, when President Snow mentioned changing our wedding date. Paavo and Peeta are seated as far from each other as you can get within the confines of the sitting room; during Paavo's portion of the interview they both busily stare at the floor.
After the replay is over Prim and Paavo get ready for bed; they are to be awoken pretty early in the morning for preparations before heading off to where they will be launched into the arena. Though I won't be able to accompany Prim- only Cinna is allowed- I insist that Prim wake me up to say goodbye...although I'm sure I'll get up as soon as I hear her getting ready anyway. Peeta does not share the same desire to see our tributes off- he still seems a little shaken by what Paavo said- so he gives Prim a crushing hug before she heads to bed and tells her he wishes her all the best. When it's his turn to acknowledge Paavo, Peeta sticks out his hand.
"Brother, no matter what happens, you're my family and I'll always love you," he says. "Now go out there and kick some butt. But remember what it's all about. Got it?"
Paavo nods stiffly, shaking his hand. He doesn't apologize, but he doesn't say anything condescending either, so I guess that's a plus. They don't hug- I'm not sure whether or not I was expecting them to. I guess a handshake is as much as you could hope for after what transpired last night, but it makes me sad. I make a mental note- not that I'll need it- to squeeze Prim extra hard when I hug her tomorrow. Then the District 12 tributes go to their rooms in the tower of the Training Center for the last time.
I join Prim a few minutes later- it's been an emotionally trying day, and I'm exhausted. Plus I want to spend the next eight hours as close to my sister as I can- I can't believe that she is going to be taken from me tomorrow. Though I am thankful that she doesn't have to go through this alone, like I did. I hold her as I try unsuccessfully to drift off to sleep, and hours later when I finally do the night is filled with unsettling dreams.
When I hear rustling and see that a light had been turned on some time later, I realize that Prim is already up and getting dressed. She doesn't have her arena uniform on yet- Cinna will give that to her later- so she just wears her regular clothes. But I have something for her. I roll out of bed and rustle in my bag for it.
"Here you go, Little Duck," I say, holding out my mockingjay pin for her. "I had good luck when I wore this. Maybe the same will happen for you." A lone tear threatens to force its way down my cheek as I pin it to her shirt.
Prim looks me in the eye, eyes glassy. "I'm scared, Katniss," she says in a wavery voice.
"I know," I say softly as I pull her to my chest, hugging her tight. "Me, too."
Just then, Cinna knocks on the door, ready to escort Prim to the place where she will be launched into the arena. I insist on following the two of them as far as I can; unfortunately, that is only down the elevator to the floor of the Training Center. There I am forced to look my sister in the eye and say goodbye to her- without the expectation of ever seeing her again. It shouldn't be that hard- I've done it before, just over a year ago. But this is completely different. That time, our fate was in my hands, not hers. I have never felt so helpless.
"You've gotta come back to us, Prim," I choke out, trying not to burst into tears. "Mom and I love you too much."
As I am fighting not to cry, Prim shows the braveness that even after her interview I was not aware that she possessed. Her face turns to steely resolve. "Don't worry, I will. I'll do whatever it takes. I love you, too," She sounds like a warrior- and while this is so unlike my sister I have a hard time understanding that it's her- it is what I need to see from her to keep it together. She is young, in danger in so many ways- but she has become a fighter. That is what I see when Cinna and Prim turn to walk away and the elevator door closes abruptly; separating me from my sister, probably forever.
I feel a huge rush of breath escape my chest. For a few minutes I just stand there, seemingly unaware that I am in an elevator and that it should, in theory, be moving somewhere. Suddenly, it hits me where I am and I numbly press the number 12, floor not feeling steady under my feet. I somehow make my way back to the suite, but hesitate when I reach my room. I don't want to go back to bed alone. I instead duck into Peeta's room and slip into bed with him- he doesn't seem to wake up but he sighs peacefully as he puts his arms around me, pulling me close. I am too emotional to go back to sleep but I lay there in silence, enjoying the feel of my security blanket.
An hour or so later, Effie knocks on the door. Thankfully, her 'it's a big, big, day,' speech sounds a little more appropriately muted. We get dressed and head to breakfast. As delicious as the food looks, I can't bring myself to take a single bite- my stomach is already full of butterflies. 8:07 a.m. The gong will ring in less than two hours. The minutes tick by, though agonizingly slow. 8:23.
Around 9, Haymitch tells us to follow him. Neither Peeta nor I have any idea where he is going. This part of the Games is a little unprecedented for us- we are used to the arena, the fighting - not the sponsors or anything else Haymitch ever did for us. We took the other fork in the road. Though now that Prim and Paavo our out of our hands- permanently- it makes sense for us to all stick together now.
As it turns out, we go to a bar. I snort as we enter- it figures. This isn't an ordinary bar, however. It is part of the Training Center, is absolutely gigantic, and- as Haymitch explains as we make our way to a few of the only remaining open seats- is where the official odds/lines of the Hunger Games are tracked. There is an enormous screen overhead with each of the tributes' names outlined in shiny colored flashbulbs. And next to their names are the numbers that this place, and the betters, have momentarily set as their odds- which keep updating as more and more bets come in. I look briefly and a few names (and numbers) strike me- Annella, 4:1. Paul, 10:1. Paavo, 8:1. Prim, 20:1.
Twenty to one. So even with Prim's high training score, the oddsmakers aren't putting her odds of survival much higher than if she were to win by pure chance. Versus Annella, whose chances, at least for now, appear to be 25%. Twenty-five percent. The odds are definitely in her favor.
Next to the odds, a giant TV screen is black. But that changes a few minutes later, after Haymitch has already downed several shots of something smelling like kerosene and Peeta and I stand by him with a feeling of helplessness. The screen suddenly flashes color as it turns on. The bar crowd of Capitol citizens, already pretty raucous for 9:45 in the morning, goes wild, cheering and chanting and clinking their beer mugs together. They pull out wads of money in their fists and thrust them towards the bet-takers. They spill their drinks, shout to each other across the room, laugh heartily, and already some of them stumble around. But none of that matters to me, not even a little bit. My eyes are glued to the television screen.
The cameras are on the twenty-four metal circles surrounding the Cornucopia. None of the tributes have been launched into the arena, and the Cornucopia is currently empty, but the camera keeps shifting angles, and you can get a pretty good idea of the arena itself.
It appears to be comparable to a taiga-like biome. Some coniferous trees sporadically dot the landscape, but most of them look fairly small. The branches don't look thick enough to support the weight of a human. Though Prim is the lightest tribute by far- if anyone could stand in one, I bet it would be her- I am doubtful that she could find any kind of refuge here. There are a couple of other plant varieties, some shrub-looking things, but pretty limited vegetation otherwise, at least in this part of the arena. Though there is one thing that seems to be more than abundant- snow.
The metal circles on which the tributes will start the Quell are almost entirely surrounded by the stuff. Only a narrow path of wood leads the tributes to the Cornucopia if they don't wish to fall into the white powder- which is tempting to avoid, because who knows how deep it is, or if it's really frozen water. But blocking those paths are moss-covered rocks- which are definitely heavy enough and large enough to impede the tributes' progress- especially Prim's.
Outside of the circle, at least for as far as the angles of the cameras show us, there are only occasional rocks and trees interrupting the vast snowy expanse. To me, the Gamemakers' motivation for this seems obvious- why give the tributes a place to go if they can just battle it all out right here? Why not try to take out as many other tributes as possible and set up camp in the Cornucopia itself? Nothing close by can provide as favorable a shelter. This seems significantly different from last year's games; the closest survivable environment to the Cornucopia itself must be quite a distance away. They are banking that no one will get there. My stomach churns with anxiety at the thought.
Just when I think I can't get any more nervous, the tributes are shot up into the arena.