Chapter 4- Becoming a Killer
Annie's P.O.V
"You'll get it next time, District 4. Just aim for the center." The trainer says as the heavy spear clatters on the ground before the target.
Truth is, throwing a spear is really easy. And so is knife throwing and killing with a sword. The only reason I haven't gotten right in the middle of the target is because I promised Finnick I wouldn't; he wants me to blend into the background.
"Tell me again where my right hand goes," I say to the man. He directs my fingers right where I know they should go, and I fake a weak throw… again.
I shrug my shoulders and leave the station as if it has defeated me. I look around the large training center, trying to figure where I should go next. The Careers stand huddled around the weaponry, each of them egging the next one on. I have to admit, the way the District 2 female can decapitate three dummies in less than five minutes really unsettles me. Demere has succeeded in joining their alliance. I see him cheer on the two boys from Districts one and two wrestling. His eyes dart my way, and for a moment, guilt flashes before his eyes. But the look is quickly replaced with a cold gaze as he returns to cheering.
I wasn't surprised at his betrayal. I didn't depend on him in the first place, nor did I trust him. To me, he has just become more competition to dispose of. I look to the Gamemakers above us, laughing off their large amounts of alcohol. I roll my eyes at their stupidity. Could they be any more oblivious to the fact that 23 of us will be gone within a matter of days? No. They aren't oblivious; they know exactly what's going to happen. And that is why I hate Capitol people.
I look around at the stations again. The fire making one looks tempting. I couldn't blend in anymore if I tried in that small corner. As I walk over, a large hand clamps down on my shoulder. I jump and turn around.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," Demere says with a big grin.
I shake my shoulder free of his grasp, "Looks like you made some new friends."
Demere looks to the Careers who cast curious glances in our direction. "Them? Oh no. Well, not really. Just allies. You got to make connections right?"
"I guess."
"Anyone you're thinking of as an ally?" Demere asks a little too innocently.
I look at him and squint my eyes. This is a trick. The Careers set him up to this, without a doubt. Try to know the enemy- what a perfect plan. Little do they know that I am playing this game too. I put on a stone face and look forward.
"Nope. I don't really like socializing," I lie. Actually, the girl from 5, Devi, and the tributes from District 3, Larissa and Argo, are all three welcoming towards me. Not to mention that Devi can hurdle a spear as far as I can see and land on the target every single time. All four of us had met this morning at the rope ladder, trying desperately to make it across without breaking a limb. We all succeeded.
"Hmm, what a shame. Hope that leaves room for me then." I look up to see that he's avoiding my gaze.
I chuckle, "You want to be allies?"
"Why not? I have a feeling the Careers will ditch me first chance they get. I can't depend on them."
This shocks me. Maybe he was telling the truth. Guilt floods over me. How could I not believe him? I swallow a new lump in my throat and turn to him, hand outstretched.
"Allies?" I ask, gesturing my arm forward.
He takes my small hand in his and shakes it up and down.
"Allies," he confirms.
The last time we had shaken hands, I remember, was the Reaping. The atmosphere of that moment floods back as he lets go of my hand, his eyes now darkened and sullen. He felt the same memory I did, I suppose.
"What are you going to do about them?" I ask him, nodding slightly towards the Careers.
He shrugs, grinning. "Maybe both of us can join them." Then he leans in and whispers in my ear, "And then leave first chance we get."
His breath tickles the nape of my neck, but I pretend not to notice his strange behavior.
I take a slight step back, "Sounds like a plan."
He nods, "I'll go convince them that we're a package. And that you have some sort of skill when it comes to killing people. No offense Annie, but you can't use a weapon to save your life."
I raise an eyebrow. "Maybe I don't need a weapon."
He chuckles and turns away, walking towards the group of Careers. Who has replaced this boy? He was as silent as a shadow until this moment. He was a scared little person only days before this. What could have possible given him this confidence that he now overflows with? This could benefit him or this could damage him. As his official ally though, I have sworn to protect him as he has to me as well.
I turn to Demere, amazed at his new character. A slight shudder runs through me as I find the District 2 girl glaring at me from across the room. I find all the bravery inside me and return the gaze. To my surprise, it's then that a smile forms across her face as if accepting me. I give a slight nod. I guess I have made it to her standards.
I make my way to the fire making station, trying desperately to shake the glare from my mind. I smile, despite my emotions. This is exactly what Finnick told me not to do. I am definitely not blending in now. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach as the weight of my decision starts to form on my shoulders. Maybe this will help me in the long run. No matter where I go, I always end up getting tangled in knots don't I?
Finnick's P.O.V
How long have I been struggling in the darkness? I literally can't see my hand as I stretch it in front of my eyes. All I know is that I have escaped into a hallway. I saw Johanna and a few other people I couldn't name walk down here only minutes before I followed them. I must have missed a turn or two, because I am lost. No more voices lead the way.
I don't know why I wanted to follow them. Perhaps it was pure curiosity. Johanna's words from the night before haven't left my mind. A rebellion, she had said. I know Johanna's crazy, but I could never anticipate this. And now here I am, crawling around in darkness, desperately searching for answers… literally.
It might be a figment of my imagination, but a gleam of light shines at the end of the hallway. It's slight, a thin rectangle reflecting off the left wall as if coming through between a cracked door, but it's the only light I have seen in 30 minutes. I stumble after it, trying desperately to reach it before it runs away.
"He is just a boy, really," a deep voice jolts me awake. A stop walking, too stunned to move. I found them! This must be where they ended up. I lay my back flat against the wall, next to the crack of light and listen in.
"He has been put through way too much to be called just a boy, Plutarch." I recognize Johanna's voice from inside the room.
What boy are they talking about?
"He declined our offer, Johanna. There is nothing more to say. You've told him everything. Nothing can stop him from telling President Snow himself," a slurred voice mutters far away from the door. I assume it's the man from District 12, Haymitch, or maybe Beetee from 3.
"He didn't exactly decline. He said not yet. It's just that Annie girl that has him hesitating. He wouldn't dare tell President Snow a word. We can trust him!" Johanna says.
"Watch your volume, Johanna. Remember where we are," a tired voice says. This voice must belong to Beetee.
They are talking about me. About my response to the invitation of their rebellion. My ears strain to hear more, but the voices have become softer.
"He will be the first person President Snow will kill off if he finds out," Haymitch says.
"Which is exactly why he wouldn't tell him," Johanna argues.
"She has a point, Haymitch. We aren't giving him much credit. He must be smart," Beetee raises his voice.
I almost dare open the door and step inside, ready to defend myself, but something tells me that that's a stupid idea.
"He needs a reason." Haymitch says.
"What?" Johanna speaks my exact thoughts.
"He needs a reason to fight. We all have a reason. We all have something or someone to avenge. It isn't fair if we expect him to fight without any fuel."
Everyone stays silent, shocked by the truth of his words. I have my parents to avenge, my pride, my life. But then I have an anchor- Annie. If Haymitch is saying that Annie needs to get hurt before I can fight, then he has another thing coming. She is not getting hurt.
"The time will come when the boy discovers what that fuel will be, and we can't waste any time waiting for him to come to his senses. We have a rebellion to organize." Plutarch lowers his voice slightly at the word 'rebellion.'
This is my queue to leave. Turning around, I use the walls to guide me back to my original location. If I had known that they wanted me to join them this badly, I would have given them a more solid answer. A yes? Probably not. I have Annie and Mags to loose, the most important people in my life. I simply cannot risk them. That would make me as evil as President Snow himself.
Light shines through the hallway a lot sooner than I thought it would. I guess making my way back was a lot easier than navigating my way forward. I wish this could be the same with life. I've gotten myself tangled in messes that I can't exactly find my way out of. And as I tape on a smile and shove the previous scene back into the depths of my mind, I know that I will never untangle those messes. Might as well make the best of it.