"Kings may come and then go
By this sword you must know
All things will come and then pass
Live your days like the last."
- Sergio Pizzorno, 2006.
The 3rd Annual Hunger Games
Augustus Holt (18), District 2 Male
Kasabian - Shoot The Runner (2006)
The cold air bites me as it cuts across my open face. My leather coat might protect my body from the cold, but my head is unprotected. At least, unlike one of our adversaries, I have unimpeded sight.
Forty yards away, just visible through the blizzard, are my two opponents. Standing by the cornucopia are the dark figures of the males from Four and Five, allied against us. On my right is my district partner, Lucia. She stands tall as I do, one year my younger. Both of us have prospered in the arena. Learning from the alliances we witnessed in the arena last year between district partners from Seven and Nine, we planned to survive together from the start.
Then, if only us two remain, we would fight to the death honourably. No backhanded ways out. It will be a fair fight.
And now, after eleven long days in frozen tundra, only four of us remain. Drawn to the cornucopia by the promise of firewood from the Gamemakers (we have been running low on the commodity for days), all of us descended upon the frozen lake that holds the cornucopia. We scythed through the girl from District 8 en route to the cornucopia, reducing the field to four, only to find out that the Gamemakers had lied. There was none of the promised firewood. And then the blizzard came.
Stumbling around in the chaos, we came across the other two males, both aged seventeen. They led us back to the cornucopia where we stand facing each other, forty yards apart.
Suddenly, the blizzard shuts off, and we are exposed to clear skies again. The Gamemakers had obviously grown tired of the blizzard. The low sun slants across the icy ground on which we stand, causing us to squint to avoid being blinded. The sky is cloudless, and the air is still.
Removing their hoods, I can clearly identify my two adversaries. For the first time in the short history of the Hunger Games, the four highest-scoring tributes have survived until the final four. The highest scorer, red-headed Arthur of District 4, is carrying a long sword. He's next to Tristan of District 5, who stands a few inches taller than his ally. He has a spear in his left hand, poised to throw.
We stand unmoving for a few moments, before Arthur starts walking slowly towards us. I see Lucia's fingers curl around the drawstring over her bow, ready to shoot. But I caution her with a gesture by raising my hand in front of her bow. She seems to consider my order for a moment, but gives in to it and lowers her weapon. She knows that failing to obey would result in her death. I'm in charge in this alliance, and I've made sure that Lucia knows it, too.
Arthur stops about half way between Tristan, who is leaning against the golden horn that is the cornucopia, and Lucia and I. He sheaths his weapon, placing his sword in his belt.
"Don't shoot!" Arthur calls. The arena is almost entirely silent, and his words echo back from all directions across the frozen lake. "I'm here to talk, not fight!"
"What should we do?" asks Lucia. I know that she'd rather just shoot him and be done with it. She must think that there is some sort of trap. Well, I can't see the problem with Arthur. He's already sheathed his weapon first. I know he's intent on being peaceful. Looking beyond him, Tristan seems on edge, but I guess he's just nervous that Arthur's plan will backfire. I can't blame him; I'm unsure what Arthur's motives are myself. But curiosity gets the better of me, and I give in to him. I sheath my own sword, which is shorter than Arthur's, and walk slowly to meet him.
"Don't shoot him; he's just a messenger," I command Lucia as I leave, and ignore her protests. Arthur wants to negotiate. For what purpose, I'm not sure, but if the opposition wishes to parlay, then parlay they shall.
As I reach him, Arthur holds out a hand to me, and I shake his proffered hand.
"Augustus," he says quietly to avoid the other two hearing us, greeting me with a smile. However, his voice doesn't share the same mood, and his tone has more sincerity than his expression. Looking into his green eyes, which are squinting due to the low sun, I see only coldness and sincerity. I know already that Arthur hasn't called me here for a friendly chat. He wants something done.
"Arthur," I say equally as coldly as his greeting. "What is the meaning of this arrangement?"
I try to sound confident; diplomatic, even. Like I know what I'm doing, and that I'm willing to negotiate. But at the same time, I'm hoping to come across as serious and unforgiving. Or, at the very least, I'll confuse him.
"The Games are almost over, my friend," Arthur replies patronisingly. No love is lost between us. "And only one of us will leave alive."
"I could have told you that two weeks ago, Arthur." I reply mockingly. Arthur doesn't see the funny side.
"Tell me, Augustus," he continues, ignoring my comment. "Do you think your ally will turn on you?"
I have never even considered Lucia turning on me before the final two. We have agreed since the train journey before we arrived in the Capitol that we would ally until we become the final two. I have never considered an alternative situation.
"We plan to remain allied until the final two," I say honestly.
"But does Lucia genuinely mean that?" taunts Arthur. "Or is she planning betrayal?"
I don't bother to answer him. But at the same time, I'm scared that he speaks the truth. I expect him to continue when I don't reply, and he quickly carries on.
"Tristan and I have been open with each other, you see," he continues, sounding slightly arrogant. "We both admitted that we were planning to kill the other before the final two, so we have a proposition for you."
I raise an eyebrow to show interest, but yet again, I let my actions speak instead of words.
"I propose that we break all alliances now."
"And for what purpose?" I ask, finally fed up with Arthur dragging out his explanations.
"If nobody is allied, nobody can backstab anyone else, and nobody can be seen as unjust. No one will feel guilt at a kill. Just a simple four-way fight to decide who goes home."
Arthur's idea intrigues me. Without any ties to Lucia, I will have no regrets about killing her. If we become the final two, I would still feel guilty about killing her. That way, I wouldn't be turning against her because I wanted to, I would be turning against her because there is nobody else left to kill. If I choose to split from her now, I'll be free of that guilt forever.
"Will we have long to prepare, or will this fight begin immediately?" I ask, hoping for the first option.
"We'll give you a few minutes to prepare, yes," says Arthur. "But after that, you're on your own."
I hold out my hand towards Arthur again.
"I agree to your deal," I say. "It's everyone for themselves from now on."
Arthur grasps my hand and shakes it firmly. Looking up at his face, he's smiling, and his eyes are glinting excitedly. Evidently he's keen to get this fight underway.
But then Arthur's grip on my hand slackens, and he crumbles to the floor, landing on the thick ice with a loud crack. Only once he is still do I see the arrow in his temple.
So much for not shooting the runner.
I realise that Lucia must have mistook us shaking hands for an alliance against her. Well, that would be partially right. I'm not her ally anymore. She's just as much of a threat as Tristan- Tristan!
I'd forgotten about the boy from District 5. It's a good thing that I remembered, too, because as soon as I turn to face him, he's launched his spear at me. I duck and hear it clatter to the ground behind me. I guess it missed Lucia, too. I was half hoping that Tristan would take out Lucia for me. At the very least, it would save me a job.
I can now see Tristan fumbling to draw a knife from his belt, but to no avail. Turning, I see Lucia ten yards behind me, her bow loaded, aiming in my direction. For a moment, I think of stopping her, but my sword is still sheathed following the parlay with Arthur. I have no escape.
Then I hear the boom of a cannon, and I know that Arthur is no longer with us. The noise makes Lucia jump for a second, but then her eyes are focussed once more, her bow ready. She shoots, but the arrow flies over my shoulder. I look behind me to see Tristan collapse, an arrow in his chest. I hear the knife that he hand pulled from his belt clatter against the ice as he lets go.
Turning back to Lucia, I see that she has discarded her bow and drawn a knife. I back off, unsheathing my sword and holding it out warily towards my district partner, but she remains untroubled. She hurls the knife at me, and it opens up a gash in my forehead. The pain blinds me momentarily, and then I am blinded by the stream of blood running over my left eye. I drop my sword and both hands go to my head as I collapse to the floor in agony. My head feels like it's on fire, and my mouth is filled with the metallic taste of my own blood.
Suddenly, the air is knocked out of me as Lucia pins me to the floor. I wriggle underneath her, preventing her from using the knife that she retrieved to strike the killer blow. Finally I work my left arm free, and land a punch on her cheek, causing her to fall off of me.
I scramble to my feet, using my right eye for sight. The pain in my head disorients me, but I scramble slowly away as Lucia gets to her feet ten yards behind me, armed with a knife.
I dive on the ground over the bow that Lucia had discarded earlier, and I hear the knife whistle past me and bury itself in the ice in front of me. Now we are both unarmed.
I stand to face Lucia, five yards apart. I have the bow, she has the arrows. We have reached stalemate. But I have an idea.
Slowly, I start to circle around her until my back is facing the cornucopia, and then start walking slowly backwards. I don't yet think Lucia realises my plan. She won't rush towards me, as in hand-to-hand combat, I've easily won. I'm half a foot taller than her. But she needs her bow back, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
Weakened by my head injuries, I wouldn't bet against her defeating me in an unarmed fight.
I edge backwards until I come up to Arthur's body. Perfect.
Before Lucia can realise what I'm doing, I quickly bend down and pull the arrow from Arthur's head. It's covered in blood and I don't want to think about what else, but it will do the job. I fumble it into the bow quickly as I stand up.
Lucia realises my plan, but it is too late. I just have time to watch determination turn to fear in her sky-blue eyes before I let the arrow fly.
