Chapter 8: Red Snow

I wake to someone lightly shaking my shoulder. When I open my eyes, I'm met with the face of Cinna.

"It's time to get up, Briar," he says softly. "The hovercraft will be leaving soon."

I sit up in bed and groggily rub my eyes. I want nothing more than to curl up under the covers and never leave, but I force myself to accept the simple dress from him. He leaves the room, giving me privacy to get dressed.

My movements are stilted and sluggish from my lack of sleep, but I eventually finish getting ready. Cinna comes back a few minutes later, leading me up to the roof and into the hovercraft waiting for us. The sensation of being stuck to the ladder is strange and uncomfortable, but it is over quickly as Cinna and I enter the metal room inside. A woman in a white lab coat approaches me. She has some type of needle in her hand, and I instinctively pull away.

"What is that?"

It's Cinna who answers my question. "It's your tracker. Don't worry. It's standard procedure."

The woman grabs my arm, telling me to hold still as she jabs the needle into my skin. I flinch slightly at the stinging sensation.

"Why don't you go get something to eat?" Cinna asks, directing me towards a room where breakfast is laid out.

Anxiety and terror gnaw at my insides, and I feel sick to my stomach, but I force myself to eat as much as I can. I'll need the energy in the arena if I plan on surviving past the first night.

I don't know how long we're in the air for; the windows are blacked out, and I'm too lost in my own thoughts of what might happen in the arena to notice. When the hovercraft finally lands, we're led to the ladder again. From here, we're ushered into an underground room. The metal space is cold; it makes my hair stand on end and a shiver runs up my spine. I wonder whom the room belonged to last year. I wonder if they were one of the two who went home on a train or one of the twenty-two who went home in a coffin.

I have to stop myself from sobbing in the shower as my mind flashes with thoughts of Mabel and Mr. Fairbain. With thoughts of Amelia. I hate thinking that I now know how scared she was before she entered the arena: the fear clawing away at her and making it impossible to breathe. Her leather bracelet still sits on my wrist, and I hold it to my chest, trying to keep her as close to me as possible.

When I finish showering, Cinna pulls my hair into a simple low bun, reminiscent of the way I wore it for the reaping. There is a quick knock at the door before it opens, and a man carrying a small package walks in, handing the bag to Cinna before leaving. It's my clothes for the arena, the ones that all the tributes have to wear. The outfit has a lot of different pieces to it, and Cinna helps me put them on: beige pants, a blue shirt that covers each of my fingers individually, and a blue jacket that falls to the middle of my thighs and comes equipped with a large hood. The socks are thick wool and hug my feet tightly. The boots they give me sit mid-calf and are made from a material that I'm not familiar with. Cinna helps me tuck my pants into them and laces them up tightly.

"The clothes are thick and insulated, so expect something cold," he says as he zippers my jacket up. "Does everything feel okay? Are you comfortable?"

I take a few moments to test my movement. The outfit is heavy but easy to move in. I give him a quick nod. "They're good."

I feel my eyes welling up with tears again. I'm afraid that my legs will give out on me so I move to the couch and take a seat.

"I'm scared." My voice is a whisper in the cold room.

Cinna walks towards the couch and crouches down in front of me. He places one hand on my shoulder and the other under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"I'd be a lot more worried if you weren't," he says quietly.

"I don't want to die."

I promised that I wouldn't let them win.

"Just remember what Haymitch told you. Even if you don't believe it now, you are strong enough to do this."

"Twenty seconds to launch," a female voice interrupts.

Cinna helps me rise from the couch, and I walk stiffly towards the tube waiting to bring me to my death. Cinna cups my cheek lightly, giving me his last words of wisdom.

"Have faith."

I choke out a thank you, and he steps back from me as the glass door closes. I take a deep breath, and straighten my posture. Cinna sends me one last smile before the tube begins to rise.

I can do this. I'm going to survive.

The first thing I hear when the tube rises is Claudius Templesmith's voice as it ricochets through the air around me.

"Ladies and gentleman, let the third Quarter Quell and the seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!"

Sixty seconds.

For a moment, I notice nothing other than the crisp air of the arena. It's biting cold, and it contrasts sharply with the glaring sun in the artificial sky. My breath is visible in the air, and I figure the temperature must be below freezing because I can see snow in the distance. I can handle the cold. It isn't anything I haven't had to deal with before. Some people will probably freeze to death, especially the ones from the warmer districts.

I take in the land before me. It's beautiful. Unlike anything I've ever seen. We're on a flat strip of land. It's green, and there are tiny white flowers growing out of it. A valley completely surrounded by snow-covered mountains.

I scowl. It's some type of tundra; the type of environment you could find near the Capitol.

50, 49, 48, 47, 46…

Fear strikes me again. It's beautiful, but dangerous. There's barely any cover. There are a couple boulders here or there, and a thin looking forest in the distance with an opening to the left, but it's impossible to tell what's over there thanks to the mountains. I know that whatever it is won't help much. There's nowhere to hide. Everything is going to be out in the open. Hunting will be easy. They want this arena over with quickly.

I let out a sigh of relief as I glance over my shoulder. Water. It looks to be about two miles away, maybe a little more, and it's the only major source in sight. There's a shallow brook that goes right through the Cornucopia, but with all the other tributes around, it's not an option. The lake it is. I have to get to it. That's what Haymitch told me to do. It's the smart thing to do. I don't want to die from dehydration.

37, 36, 35, 34, 33…

I'm already shivering. The cold air nips at the exposed skin of my face as I look to the center of the ring of tributes, where the Cornucopia sits. It stands tall, maybe about fifteen feet high, and it's made of ice, the long tail sharp and glistening in the sunlight. The Careers always guard the Cornucopia, hoarding all of the supplies to themselves and killing anyone that comes near.

There are a couple packs lined up against it, but nothing there is strong enough to tempt me so I look away. I spot Cato a few people down to my right. He's glaring harshly at the Cornucopia, and I look back at the offending object. My eyes widen when I realize I've missed the most important detail. There is no opening: everything is frozen inside. Medicine, food, clothes, tools. There will be no getting supplies.

Even more reason not to stick around.

29, 28, 27, 26, 25…

The sun glares off the ground, and I'm forced to squint as I try to identify the source. Metal?

They're weapons⎯-swords, flails, batons, knives⎯-scattered out across the ground. All close combat weapons.

No long range weapons and no cover. They want this arena over with quickly and with as much blood possible.

I'm going to die.

I try to stop my ragged breathing. I can't look weak.

Forty-seven pairs of eyes dart around the Cornucopia, trying to gage what their competition is planning since there will be no race to the inside of the Cornucopia. Zeppina is two people to my left. I catch her gaze and she gives me a look that's easy to read. Run like hell. I jerk my head backwards in the direction of the lake. She nods. I try to find Barden to give him the same message, but he's nowhere in sight. He must be on the other side of the Cornucopia. I hope he's smart enough to get out of here and find water.

18, 17, 16, 15, 14…

I try to imagine Mr. Fairbain and Mabel sitting back in District Twelve, watching me. Are they scared? Do they miss me?

I'm never going to see them again.

Oh God. I can't breathe. I'm going to die.

"9, 8, 7⎯"

I snap my head to the side as a loud boom sounds through the air, and something warm and sticky splatters across my face. I gag as the familiar smell of iron fills my nostrils. I feel like I'm choking on it. My eyes are glued to the podium three places to my right, where there is nothing but smoke. The tribute is gone. My hand touches the red liquid on my face and Haymitch's words run through my head: "Don't step off the podium early, unless you want to be blown to bits." I swallow shakily and wipe the blood on my pants. I don't know which tribute it was, only that they don't even get the chance to fight for their life.

The girl next to me vomits when she spots the leg in front of her.

One down, twenty-three to go. I wince at the thought. I can do this. I have to do this.

"3, 2, 1."

The gong sounds, and I jump down from the podium. I take off in a sprint towards the lake and don't look back in the direction of the Cornucopia. Something flies past my head. A knife. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register that I was a foot away from dying. I don't slow down though. The only thing I can do is be thankful that whoever threw it is a bad shot. The sound of screams and metal slicing through flesh rings in my ears, but I don't stop. My legs burn with the effort, but I can't afford to do anything but run as fast as I can. There's nowhere to take cover. I need to put as much distance between me and the others as possible.

I finally slow to a stop when I'm about a hundred yards away from the lake. I quickly scan the area to make sure that no one is around while I wait for Zeppina to show up. It's just a precaution though. I know that no one will be able to catch up to me for a while. I hunch over as I struggle to catch my breath and try to stop my legs from shaking. I'm a good runner, and I'm in shape, but I don't think I've ever run that fast in my entire life. I'm no longer shivering thanks to the adrenaline pumping through my body. I don't know what I'm going to do when it wears off though. These clothes may be insulated, but my head is wholly unprotected, and I know that I'll get frostbite if I don't find something to cover it with. It's probably what those packs were for. That and food, I note as I take a quick look around the area.

It looks nothing like District Twelve. Instead of tree-covered hills, there are snow-covered mountains. The land is rugged and broken, large boulders protruding from the ground here and there. It's different from the terrain at the Cornucopia and on the far side, both of which appeared to be flat and well maintained. We also don't have a lake like this in Twelve, or if we do, we aren't allowed anywhere near it. The lake is large, maybe about few miles wide both ways, and there are patches of ice on top of the water. It's probably too cold for anything that's not a muttation to live in. Besides the minor vegetation, there are very little signs of life.

I let out a disbelieving laugh as I remember what Haymitch said when I told him that I was pretty good with snares. Turns out he was right about there not being any food to catch. I wonder if the Gamemakers laughed at their little inside joke when they watched me make a snare in my private session.

The design of the arena only makes things worse. Everything of use appears to be located in the valley. It's meant to trap people, and the lack of cover means that everyone will be able to see every little thing that goes on. They want to force us together. You may be able to see your enemy approaching you, but there's nothing you can do about it. I want to take cover on the mountains, but they're completely covered in snow and rock. The temperature is probably even lower up there, and there definitely won't be any resources.

Sighing, I make my way over to the edge of the water. I'm just about to take a drink when a thought strikes me. I have no way to purify it. It could kill me. I debate the risk in my head. I'll definitely die of dehydration if I don't drink any, but there's no way to know what they've put in it. How long could I last without water? Not long enough to win. I might be able to melt some snow if I really need it, but I decide to wait for Zeppina and Barden before doing anything.

I'm suddenly struck with the thought that they might not be coming. They could both be dead at this point, slaughtered in the bloodbath while I ran for my life, and I wouldn't even know it until they show the Fallen tonight. The thought makes my chest tighten slightly. I could be in this alone.

I can't worry about that right now. I'll know soon enough.

The same glittering light from the Cornucopia distracts me from my thoughts. It's coming from multiple places around the lake, and I slowly make my way towards one to investigate. As I get closer, I realize that the glare is indeed the same one from before. The weapons aren't just spread around the Cornucopia, they're scattered throughout the entire arena. They'll be easy to come by, as will death. I pick up the knife lying at my feet and inspect it. I silently thank the Gamemakers for their selection when I realize that it's the same as the knives I practiced with in the Training Center: a bowie knife. Maybe I'll have a chance.

I stick it in the side of my boot before looking up towards the sky. A half an hour must have passed by now, and there is still no sign of Zeppina or Barden. I'm starting to get uneasy. It's only two miles, and it shouldn't be taking them this long to get here. I probably shouldn't stick around this part of the lake for too much longer. It's in the direct line of the Cornucopia, and any tribute heading this way will see me. Haymitch would kill me for being so stupid. I bite my lip as I think over what to do. Eventually, I decide that it's best for me to move, so I begin jogging around the side of the lake. It's huge, and backs up against a mountain on the far side. I decide to head in that direction because it will take me far enough out of the way while also giving me a better vantage point. My back will be protected, so no one can sneak up on me from behind.

It takes me almost two hours to reach the mountainside, and even with the running, I find myself shivering and struggling to breathe. The cold air is thin, and it makes my chest tighten painfully as I try to suck in oxygen. I grab the thick hood and yank it over my head, trying to retain as much body heat as I can. The sun is at the highest point in the sky, telling me that it's around noon. The arena is only going to get colder as the day passes.

I set about surveying the area, trying to keep myself warm as well as get familiar with the terrain. There is nothing to remind me of home. There is no sound of birds chirping from the trees or of people milling around while they work. It's completely quiet, the only sound coming from the occasional strong wind. The land looks just as ragged as the other side of the lake, only a couple of plants growing out of the rocky ground. The mountain face is almost completely bare aside from the snow that begins about halfway to the top. It's covered in crumbling and heavily fissured rock that will probably cause a landslide if I'm not careful. Climbing is out of the question for now.

I continue looking around for another hour, only stopping when the cannons begin to boom, signaling that the bloodbath has finally ended. The booming causes some small animal to scurry out from behind a rock about twenty yards ahead of me, so I know that there is at least some food to eat.

1, 2, 3, 4….

Twelve. Twelve children dead over the course of three hours. Twelve children who will be returning to their families in a coffin. I feel anger rise above the fear when I think about the people in the Capitol who bet on this; who bet on our lives. They're making money off of other people's terror and grief. The thought is sickening. I wonder how many people had me making it this far. I've made it farther than half of the competition. Only twelve more people to go, and I'll be back in the Capitol preparing for the second arena. The odds are getting better.

The thought does little to quell my frustration.

I wonder whom the cannons belonged to. Thalia? Collis? Karn? The idea that it could be one of them—or all of them—makes my stomach twist. I may not be attached to them, or even like them in Karn's case, but they are from my district. If I don't win, I would want it to be one of them. But if they are dead, this will be easier for me. I wouldn't be able to kill them.

Maybe the cannons belonged to some of the Careers. Nerissa, or Mace, or Cato. I know that it's just wishful thinking on my part. I'm a little terrified of my own thoughts; that I actually hope it's one of them. I shake my head. They may be kids, but they want to kill me, and not just because they want to survive. They want to kill me because they'd enjoy it.

I can't help but wonder if one of the cannons was for the tribute that stepped off the podium early. Everyone knows the consequences of doing so, but I've never seen it happen before. The tributes are either too excited to get started or too frozen in fear to make such a fatal error. They almost never jump early because of nerves. One of the cannons had to be for them. The death counts the same as all the rest. Whether they died during the countdown or in the bloodbath, they aren't going home.

As terrible as the thought is, I'm surprised that the toll isn't higher than twelve. With the amount of Careers in the Quell, I thought more would have been killed. Maybe that's why they froze everything in the Cornucopia. They want this part to end early, but not too early. The Capitol wouldn't get much enjoyment if the Careers just slaughtered everyone on the first day.

Where would the fun be in that?

They're Cato's words from that night on the roof, from when he told me how it would ruin his fun if us weaker tributes decided to take ourselves out of the Games. I wonder if he's mad that one of the tributes got blown up before he had the chance to get them. One less person for him to murder.

The thought reminds me that I have still have the dead tribute's blood spattered on my face, and I practically run over to the lake, eager to get it off me. I'm shocked by what I find when I dip my hand into the water. The cloth covering my fingers comes up dry, the water rolling off it in tiny drops. The material must be waterproof so that our clothes don't get soaked, and we don't all die of hypothermia. No one in the Capitol enjoyed that the last time it happened.

I scoop the water up in my two hands and splash it on my face. I gasp when the icy water hits me, but I scrub eagerly, the idea of the blood being there making me feel more and more sick by the minute. Hopefully there aren't any cameras on me right now. I must look like I'm losing it already.

Something moves behind me, and I freeze. Someone is here. I'm not even going to make it past the first day. I'm going to die.

Shut up, no you're not.

Adrenaline starts rushing through me again, my body trying to decide whether to stay and fight or to flee. I know that whoever they are, they're too close for me to make a run for it. I might be fast, but I'll have nowhere to hide. The boulders wouldn't give me cover for long, and the mountain is too broken and steep for me to climb. The footsteps get closer, and I take a deep breath, making my decision.

I don't make any sudden movements, slowly reaching my hand towards the knife in my boot. I could get the upper hand if they think I haven't noticed them. Looking down at the water in front of me, I catch sight of my own reflection. I look terrified. I eagerly search the water for a glimpse of what's behind me. I think I can make out a small figure, definitely a person, but I can't see if they've got a weapon. I'll just have to hope that I can catch them off guard.

When I estimate that they're about twenty feet away from me, I stand up and whirl around, brandishing the knife out in front of me. The person startles, holding their hands out in front of them in a motion of surrender.

"It's just me."

Zeppina.

I breathe a sigh of relief and lower my weapon as I take her in. She looks tired, and she's panting slightly, but I can't tell if it's from running or the harshness of the climate. I make a mental note to remember that she is wearing a dark red jacket with beige pants like mine just in case I lose her at any point. She also has a black hat on her head.

"Where did you get that?" I ask. She looks confused. "Your hat," I clarify.

"Someone dropped it from their pack near the Cornucopia."

I give a small nod at her words. She must have stuck around the action longer than I did. Maybe she knows who some of the twelve kids were.

"What have you been doing? Were you at the Cornucopia for long?"

"I got caught back there," she says. I furrow my brows slightly at the evident anger in her voice. "I tried to get out, planned on following you over here, but some kid jumped me. I only got away after one of the Careers put a knife in his skull."

She says it like it was some minor annoying event, like it's some sort of inconvenience as opposed to the threat that it really was. It's a little unnerving, but then again I can't really talk. I haven't even thought about the knife that almost hit me in the head. If I do, I know that I'll start freaking out over the fact that I almost died, and that won't help me at all. I wonder if the person who threw the knife at me was the same one that killed the boy that attacked Zeppina.

She takes a quick glance around the area before turning back to me. "How long have you been here?"

I shrug and look up at the sun. It's around three o'clock. I've managed to survive five hours into the Hunger Games. "Been here since I left the bloodbath."

"No sign of Barden?"

"No, you're the first person I've seen."

We lapse into silence, both of us still too unsure around each other. This could go downhill quickly if Barden is really dead already. I don't trust her, and I know that she doesn't trust me. We're both too wary for this to last without him. I don't even want to think about what might happen if we see his face in the sky.

I try to think of something to say, anything to fill the silence. I don't want to be left to my own thoughts in a place like this. I realize that I'm still holding the knife in my hand. Zeppina watches curiously as I bend down and place it back in my boot.

"Where'd you get the knife? I didn't think you had time to pick one up at the Cornucopia."

"I didn't," I say with a shake of my head. "They're spread out all over the place. All different kinds of weapons, but I think all of them are close combat. They probably stuck all the long range ones inside that giant block of ice." I snort slightly. "I guess they want us to get nice and personal."

Zeppina nods. "It's going to be brutal."

"What should we do about supplies?" I ask after a moment. "I've taken a look around, but as far as I can tell, the whole arena seems pretty sparse. I've only seen one animal since I've been out here, and I have no idea if the water is safe to drink."

She purses her lips as she takes in my words. "I don't know. Even the Careers are going to have a hard time getting that stuff out, and they won't want to waste their energy hacking away at it tonight. It'll probably take days to break through."

I dip my head in agreement. "They'll probably still guard it though. If they can't have whatever's in there, they won't want anyone else to get it either."

It's starting to look more and more like we're all going to have to rely on sponsors. I really hope Haymitch is right about the Capitol loving me, because aside from not being dead yet, I'm not off to a great start.

Zeppina walks closer to where I'm standing at the edge of the lake. She bends down and dips her hand in, splashing a little on her face. A small frown tugs at her mouth.

"It's freezing."

I blink once. I thought that was obvious by the ice caps on the top.

"There probably won't be any animals in there," she says. "Most fish wouldn't survive. We should probably be okay to drink it though, unless you have another idea."

I shake my head. "The only other thing I could think of is melting some snow, but then we'd have to climb up the mountain, and it doesn't seem stable enough for that."

She looks thoughtful for a moment before she speaks. "If they aren't providing anything to clean the water with, it's probably safe to drink. They don't want everyone becoming deranged and dying from dehydration."

I nod in agreement. She's right; dehydration would be messy. There was a tribute in the sixty-seventh Games who became delirious from the lack of water and terror he no doubt felt. He became paranoid and vicious, decapitating and gouging out the eyes of the other tributes. Sometimes he'd do it with his own fingers. He ended up dying from the dehydration, which probably came as a relief to everyone: the other tributes, the Capitol, his family. No one wants to see something like that happen again.

Zeppina glances at me quickly before she begins walking around the area, checking it out for herself. Another thought suddenly hits me as I watch her survey the land. "How did you find me? I could have been anywhere by now," I say, confusion and worry coloring my voice. If she found me this easily, anyone could.

She shrugs. "It was pretty easy based on what I've seen from you in training. I knew you'd be smart enough to stick around the water source, but not stupid enough to stay where everyone could see you. I had to guess which side of the lake you picked though. This one had less of a slope in the mountain, so I chose it in case you planned on climbing."

I don't know what to say to that. I knew that she was smart, but I had no idea she had been watching me during training and would be able to find me just based on that. It's a little unnerving, and strangely flattering. There's no reason to watch someone unless you think they're a threat. I hope I'm not so predictable to everyone else.

"It's a good thing you didn't stick around, anyway. The Careers split into groups and one of them stopped at the lake. Got one of the girls from Eight."

I shiver at the news, thankful that I decided that it was best to move. I could have been that girl.

"Maybe we should make camp for the night," Zeppina suggests as she looks up towards the sky.

It can't be much later than four in the afternoon, but it's already getting dark. I note that it's like the winter back in Twelve, where night comes early and daylight is scarce. District Six has different weather than Twelve, but I know that they have harsh winters like we do. We're both familiar with how this works.

She turns back to me after looking at the mountain behind us and then towards the lake to my left. "It's a good spot. They'll only be able to approach us from one direction. It'll be easier to sleep with our backs protected."

"Besides, it wouldn't help to move around. The Careers are predictable. They'll go hunting tonight, even if they don't have supplies. They're too cocky not to. But I doubt they'd venture all the way out here in the middle of the night."

I scan the area for anything that we could use as cover. The only things in sight are the boulders, but I'm not sure what help they'll be. I rack my brain for something that I can do with them, trying to remember anything from past Games or the Training Center. Amelia's Games had taken place in a desert, but it was barren much like this arena. I vaguely recall someone using rocks to build a wall for protection.

Sighing at my admittedly weak idea, I turn towards Zeppina and suggest it to her. She looks at me strangely for a minute before something flashes in her eyes, and she agrees.

By the time we finish, it's almost completely dark, and the temperature has dropped well below freezing. It must be approaching zero. The wind has picked up considerably. It whips across my body and bites at my face. The force of it makes it nearly impossible to hear anything other than its whistling. We won't be able to hear anyone sneaking up on us. I figure that's the point. It helps keep some element of surprise even if there is no cover. You can't fight someone if you don't know they're there. Thankfully the rocks will help to break some of the wind, and maybe help to hide us.

I'm practically starving by now, and Zeppina doesn't seem to be faring much better. Most of the people in the arena must be hungry, considering the sparseness of the landscape, and I doubt many of them have gotten sponsors yet. It's too early in the Games for that; mentors will want to save the money up for when their tributes really need it.

Any hope I had that darkness would bring out some night creatures diminishes with every passing minute. The only bright side to this is that I doubt any large predators are hunting us. I scan the area for anything that we could eat for dinner, my eyes falling on a shrub ten feet to the right of Zeppina. I recognize it from the edible plants and insects test. It will be difficult to eat, and it won't taste very good, but it won't kill us either. I walk over to it and yank it out of the ground.

Zeppina raises her eyebrows as she glances between the plant and my face. "What are you doing?"

"Dinner," I say, tearing a piece of the shrub off and handing it her.

She looks down warily at my selection. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Positive." She doesn't look convinced. It makes me roll my eyes at her, but she's still staring at the plant, so she doesn't notice. "You're the one who was watching me in the Training Center. How well did I do on the edible plants and insects test?"

She stares at me for a moment, weighing my words before slowly lifting the plant to her mouth. I do the same, taking a bite out of the bitter green. I'm sure the faces we make as we chew the plant amuse all of the people in Panem. It's tough, and it tastes terrible⎯-like something I would have eaten back in Twelve⎯-and I mentally curse the Capitol for feeding me such rich and delicious meals for the past week.

Sleeping is going to be tricky. It's probably best to do it in shifts, but it's far too cold to put distance between us. My teeth chatter uncontrollably, and my body is racked with shivers. Through the darkness, I can see that Zeppina looks just as bad as I do, but a fire is not an option. It would be suicide in open terrain like this. The Careers or some other tribute would find us in a second, and we'd be dead even quicker than that. This is far colder than anything we've ever had to deal with. And I don't know if I'll be able to get any sleep in this place.

Zeppina seems to be on the same wavelength as me, practically voicing my very thoughts. "We should probably sit side by side. It will make both of us more vulnerable, but..."

"You'd rather not freeze to death," I say, and she nods. "Neither would I. You get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

The sound of the anthem blaring throughout the arena jerks me from my thoughts. Zeppina quickly sits up beside me, still a little delirious from sleep. We both look up towards the sky as the Capitol crest appears, and we wait to see the faces of the Fallen.

I'm surprised by the first picture that flashes. I don't know his name, just that he is the other male tribute from District Two. It's not often that a Career dies in the bloodbath.

"Well that's helpful," Zeppina mutters from beside me. "Now if only the rest of them would die, we'd be golden."

I feel terrible about the small tug of relief in my stomach at the fact that one of the Careers is dead. I wish I didn't agree with her words, but in a battle of survival, his death can only help me.

The next face that appears is a boy from Three that I don't know. I recognize the next one as Lumen, the girl I had met on the first day of training. Both of the boys from Five flash on screen. That means everyone from Four made it. Eleven Careers out of Twelve are still out there. It's a terrifying thought. The only face to show from Six is the other female tribute. I turn to see Zeppina's reaction.

She just shrugs, showing no outward sign of emotion when the girl's face is displayed. "She didn't have much of a chance. Her own shadow made her jump," she says in a casual voice.

After that comes a girl from Seven. That means both boys⎯-two Capitol favorites⎯-made it through. I'll have to watch out for them. Next is a boy from Eight. I feel a pang of sadness when I realize that it's the face of one of the twelve year olds. It's not fair that he doesn't get to go home. One of the girls from Eight appears on screen. Must have been the one the Careers killed because the next face that flashes is a boy from Nine. I hold my breath when I realize that this is Barden's district. I silently pray that he's not dead, but the momentary comfort I feel when his face doesn't appear quickly vanishes. The face of Collis appears in the sky, followed by Thalia. The anthem ends, and the sky fades into blackness, and I suddenly feel like crying. But I won't. I can't cry in front of all of Panem. I can't show them weakness.

"Were you close to them?" comes Zeppina's airy voice from beside me. Can she read the change of emotion on my face even in the dark?

I swallow shakily, moving my head left to right. "No, I barely knew them," I say quietly.

I don't know why I'm so upset over this, but I can feel the emotion lodged in my throat, and it won't go away. Two kids from my district are dead. Just last night they had been sleeping down the hall from me, smiling as our mentors congratulated us, eating the stupid fancy Capitol food, and now they're dead. I may not have known them or felt any attachment to them but someone out there did. Their families back in District Twelve did, and now they'll never get to see them again.

"Barden's still out there," Zeppina says, interrupting my thoughts. "We can start looking for him tomorrow."

I nod somberly at her words. I'm incredibly relieved that Barden is still alive, and not just because I'm relying on him and this alliance. I'm relieved because he deserves more than this, he doesn't deserve to die in this arena.

I mentally go over the list of the people who are left. All of the Careers minus the boy from Two have survived. Cato, Mace, Nerissa. They're all still out there, which means I may still be a target. A painful knot forms in my stomach as I continue counting. The crazy girl from Five that I remember from the reaping is still out there. Both male tributes from Six and Zeppina. Both boys and the other girl from Seven are also left, as is one boy and one girl from Eight. That means the other twelve year old survived the first day. Both girls and Barden are still alive from Nine. Everyone from Ten and Eleven. That means the rat-faced boy is still out there. That comes as a surprise to me. Being from the outer districts, they usually go pretty early in the Games, most of their tributes dying in the bloodbath. The only other person left is Karn. I can't help but wonder what he's doing, where he's hiding.

Zeppina moves to rest her back against one of the rocks. "I can take over for you. I've gotten enough sleep."

I mumble a quiet agreement before lying down on my side. I pull the knife from my boot and clutch it tightly in my hand in case of an attack. I'm dead tired, and I can already feel my eyelids drooping shut. I briefly wonder if everyone is proud of me for surviving the first day⎯-if Mr. Fairbain, Mabel, Katniss, Effie, Peeta, and Haymitch are happy. The last thought that fills my mind before sleep pulls me under is that Amelia and my mother would have been.

My eyes snap open when the sound of a cannon fills the air. I sit up quickly, the hand clutching the knife instinctively reaching out in a flash of panic. I whip my head around towards Zeppina, checking to make sure that she's okay, and that we aren't in any immediate danger. Zeppina stares at the sky, unharmed. Seconds tick by and nothing happens. I slowly exhale as I regain my bearings.

When my heart rate finally slows down, I wonder whom the cannon was for. I'm once again aware of the fact that Barden is still missing, and that the cannon could have been for him. I really hope it wasn't. Maybe the odds are in our favor, and it was for one of the Careers. A little wishful thinking never hurt.

I turn to ask Zeppina who she thought it belonged to, but stop when I see the frown marring her features as she looks up towards the sky. I follow her gaze, my own lips tugging down. I hadn't noticed thanks to my panic induced state, but the temperature has dropped even lower than last night, and the sunshine from yesterday has been replaced with a dull gray sky. Storm clouds have formed, creating large foreboding masses, and I know that it will begin to snow soon. A lot.

"We should probably get moving," Zeppina says, eyes flickering over towards the mountain. "We don't want to be here if there's a storm. It could cause an avalanche."

I give her a quick nod. Even if it weren't snowing, I'd probably suggest that we move. It's been too quiet since the bloodbath ended. The Capitol people are no doubt becoming restless over their lack of entertainment. Slowly, I move to stand. My body is a little sore from sleeping on the jagged ground, and my face burns from the cold and the wind. My lips are dry and cracked, and my throat is scratchy from lack of water. We need to drink something, or we'll get sick from dehydration for sure. My movements are sluggish as I make my way towards the side of the lake. I can only hope that the others are as affected by the cold as I am.

Zeppina comes and joins me on the bank to get some water. "Any idea where we should go next?"

I shake my head, surveying the area for someplace we could go that would keep us away from the other tributes. "The mountains over here are out. It's too dangerous to climb, especially with the storm coming. The forest is out too. We won't be able to make it to the far side of the arena in time. I don't think we can follow the stream either. The Careers will probably stick close to it because it runs right through the Cornucopia."

"There's a hill over there, " Zeppina says, sitting back and pointing to the far side of the lake. "It's about a mile out from the edge of the water, and we'll be closer to the Cornucopia, but the land seemed a lot steadier, and we'll be above the valley. We'll be able to see anyone coming."

I follow her gaze, debating her suggestion. There's no doubt that there will be more tributes around the area, but it seems like the only viable option unless we want to stay here or attempt to cross to the far side of the arena. I don't see what other choice we have. Staying down here will most likely kill us. Plus, the land seems to get greener and more stable as it moves away from the lake. There's likely to be more wildlife, especially as we get closer to the thin forest on the other side. It's probably a way to force us together; all of the cover and food is on one side of the arena, while the lake is on the other. You either have to make the whole trek from end to end or risk going back to the Cornucopia.

"Besides," Zeppina says after a moment. "I think there has to be something on top of the mountains, and it will be an easier climb from there. The arena seems too small otherwise."

"Unless they're trying to force us into fighting. It's kind of hard to avoid the others when we're all stuck in this valley."

Zeppina purses her lips, and gives a small nod. I can tell that the idea makes her uncomfortable, but she's knows that what I've said is most likely true.

I stand up and offer the other girl a hand, pulling her up beside me. "The hill seems like just as good an option as any. We should go now just in case the storm gets worse."

We both know it will.

We have nothing to pack up so we get moving quickly after we eat a small breakfast. It's the same plant from last night, and it tastes just as terrible as it did before. The wind picks up impossibly fast, whipping savagely against us. We have to exert a tremendous effort to keep ourselves moving.

We only stop once on our journey, when we stumble upon another knife lying on the ground. Zeppina takes it, and we keep going. Snow begins to fall about two hours into our journey. I want to laugh at the irony of the arena. It reminds me so much of the day that Snow announced the Quarter Quell⎯-the snow just as thick and heavy as it had been that day, smothering everything in sight. The flakes are large and the furious wind makes it difficult to see anything in the blur of white. Fear creeps up inside me at the idea of not seeing⎯-of not knowing what's out there

"How far do you think we are?" I yell over to Zeppina.

She squints, trying to see through the haze of snow. I think that she yells back saying that she is unsure, but the wind drowns out her voice, making it nearly impossible for me to hear when she asks me if I can see where we are.

I take a quick glance around the area, but it's impossible to see anything clearly. "I don't know, but we should be⎯-"

I stop speaking and freeze in place, reaching out a hand to stop my partner from moving.

"What's wrong?"

I wave a hand in her direction, and narrow my eyes, trying to get a better look when I see a flash of something moving. With the wind and the snow, it looks like nothing more than a green blob. Under other circumstances, I would easily shrug it off, thinking it nothing more than a small tree, or something of the like. But the furious beating of my heart has me on high alert.

"We need to get out of here."

Zeppina seems to pick up on the urgency in my voice, because her eyes go wide, flickering in the direction of my gaze. "Why? What is it?"

"There's another tribute here."

The blob moves again, and we both reach for our knives at the same time. We catch each other's eye, deciding to make a run for it, but we never get the chance.

"Briar!"

Something heavy collides with my back, and I collapse painfully onto the ground.

What the hell?

The impact makes me disoriented, and I'm momentarily frozen in fear before the adrenaline starts coursing through me. Someone grabs my ankle from behind, and I kick back with as much force as I can muster, my foot colliding with something hard. I hear a muted grunt of pain over the wind, the person's grip slipping off me with the force of my attack. I roll over and scramble to my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I see Zeppina on the ground with the green blob I had seen before, but I have no time to see who it is because the person who grabbed my leg is running towards me again, ready for another attack. I try to jump out of the way, but there isn't enough time. I'm sent flying to my back, the other tribute on top of me.

It's the crazed girl from Five. Her eyes are mad, and there's a snarl on her face as she tries to pin me down. Fear jolts through me when I realize I have nothing to defend myself with. I dropped my knife somewhere the first time she knocked me down. I wince from the force she's putting on me, but she's too small to completely keep me down. I yank one arm from her grasp, and punch her in the face as hard as I can from this position. Her head rears to the side with a sickening crack, and I jerk under her, trying to throw her off. She falls to the side of me, holding her face. I can see the red staining the snow as I frantically roll away and scan for my knife. She isn't done though. She comes at me again, letting out an inhuman scream when I narrowly dodge her next attack. I can see the distinctive black hilt of the knife sticking out of the snow, and I hurriedly pull myself to my feet, running towards it.

I reach for it just as she lunges at me again, tackling me to the ground. All the air leaves my lungs in a painful hiss, and I can't breathe, but I don't stop fighting back. The only thing on my mind is survival, my brain chanting the word in a never-ending loop. I grab her by the shoulders and force her to the side, but her grip on me is tight, and we end up rolling over a couple times as we both try to gain the upper hand. Her elbow collides with my ribs, and I let out a pained grunt. Her leg pins down my hand holding the knife, and I can't get it free no matter how hard I try. One of my legs is free though, and I bring it up quickly, kneeing her in the stomach. She cries out, and her grip loosens enough for me to pull it from her grasp.

Her fist collides with my face just as I stab the knife into her side. Pain blossoms in my skull. My teeth clench together, tearing through my cheek and causing blood to fill my mouth. She screeches as the metal slides into her flesh, and I feel sick as I watch the anguish fill her mad eyes. I yank the knife from her body and roll over when she falls heavily onto the ground. I hastily spit out the blood onto the snow. Everything is fuzzy thanks to her punch, and I barely register what's going on around me.

I stagger slightly as I pull myself to my feet, trying to prepare myself for another attack from the girl from Five. It never comes though. There's nothing but a stain of red where she had been laying. I hazily scan the area for her, but my vision is blurry from the hit and the snow, and I can't find her anywhere.

I'm distracted when I distantly hear the sound of Zeppina screaming. I spin around, and I squint my eyes in the direction of the noise. She's on her back a couple yards away from me, the green figure standing over her, ready to take the kill shot. Panic rips through me at the sight, and I try to run to her, but I know I won't be fast enough. The tribute brings their arm down, but it stops about a foot above Zeppina's chest. I gasp as I watch the tip of a sword thrust through the person only to be yanked back, the small figure collapsing into a heap. A cannon booms from somewhere above.

The person wielding the sword stands still for a moment, and I'm poised to throw my knife in case they try anything. But instead of attacking, the figure lowers their sword to the side and extends a hand out to Zeppina. Confusion fills me as she takes the hand and allows herself to be pulled up. I stay where I am, still holding my knife out.

The pair turns to me, staring for a moment before the unknown figure yells, "Are you okay, Briar? Are you hurt?"

Barden.

The relief that fills me is so overwhelming that I barely notice my legs carrying me towards them. He's alive. And he just saved Zeppina's life.

She's alive.

I'm alive.

"Did you hear me, Briar?" Barden asks when I stop in front of them.

"I'm fine," I say, but a wince leaves my mouth despite the words. My mouth is still bleeding, and even though my jaw is numb, I know it's going to be incredibly sore for the next few days. If I survive that long. My body already aches from the physicality of the fight. Barden looks concerned, but I turn my gaze to Zeppina. "Are you alright?"

She gives me a shaky nod, obviously affected by what just happened. My gaze drifts to the body on the ground, the surrounding snow soaked in the blood from his wound. I feel a sudden, overwhelming urge to throw up as I look at the body. It's the rat-faced boy from Ten. The adrenaline running through my veins is wearing off, and I'm left with a feeling of horror and guilt. He's dead: his face blank and his body lifeless. My mind flashes with images of Barden's sword protruding from his chest, and I'm suddenly aware of the bloody knife in my hand. I stabbed someone. I could have killed her. I might have killed her.

No. She has to be alive. There was only one cannon. But still, I didn't even hesitate to do it. The rational part of my brain knows that she would have killed me, but it's drowned out by the remorse I feel. It's wrong. So, so wrong. She's trying to survive just like me.

I can't bear to be here any more. I take a step back from the corpse, trying to fight the bile rising in my throat. "We need to go. The hovercraft will be coming to get the body."

I wipe the blood from the knife on my pants and place it back in my boot. The three of us take off in the direction of the hill, leaving the lifeless boy behind. I trudge in silence for a while, Zeppina and Barden having their own conversation. I welcome the quiet. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone. It's getting more and more difficult to see as we go, and I put all of my energy into pushing through the harsh conditions and checking for any other tributes.

My body radiates a feeling I can't quite name; some mixture of shock and anger that has my hands continuously clenching and unclenching as we walk. It's too much to think about, these Games. Watching them year after year, watching children die at the hands of other children has always left me feeling embittered. But being here⎯-experiencing the terror and death first hand-⎯everything is magnified. I already feel like I'm fraying under the pressure.

Barden laughs quietly as we walk."That was a close one. One more second and you would've been a goner. Good thing these things are so pointy."

I round on him in a second, a harsh look overcoming my previously somber features. "What's your problem?" I hiss. "That kid is dead. They're sending a hovercraft over there to get his body so that they can ship it back home in a coffin. There's nothing to laugh about."

I don't understand what's come over me: why I'm getting so worked up over what's happened. I have no affection for the rat-faced boy, and I certainly have none for the girl that tried to kill me. But I can't stand to hear him laughing it off while I feel like I'm drowning in the reality of it all. People are dead, and he's acting like nothing ever happened.

Both Zeppina and Barden looked startled by my outburst. His face quickly becomes solemn as he flounders for something to say.

"How can you be so unaffected? We almost died!" I know that I look and sound hysterical, but I feel like I've lost control over my actions.

Barden looks down at me, and I scowl at the understanding that crosses his features. "I'm not unaffected, Briar," he says softly. There's no defensiveness in his voice, only sympathy and resignation. "I've just come to terms with this," he says with a gesture towards the arena. "I can't change it. What's the point of getting hung up on it? People are going to have to die. It's not like I wanted to do it, but he would have tried to kill you two if I didn't."

He holds my gaze the entire time he speaks, and I slowly feel the anger drain out of me. I know that he's right. No good can come from me getting so emotional over this. If I really want to win, I can't get caught up on the inevitable. Forty-six people are going to have to die, and the sooner I learn to live with that, the better chance I'll have of surviving.

I sigh and give him an apologetic look. "You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"No worries," he says, giving me his trademark smile and throwing an arm over both Zeppina and my shoulders as we continue walking. "So, where are we heading?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

DUNDUNDUN... AND THE ARENA HAS BEGUN. So excited for this to finally be posted. I know it took awhile to get here, so thanks for hanging in there with me :)

TheHungryRainbow: I would be too XD Crowds are not my thing

SylviaHunterOfArtemis: I figured the score would probably be relatively predictable. I played around with the idea of her scoring lower, but in the end, there were many reasons why I found it necessary that she be as capable as she is.

WhiteEevee: Phew, glad you like the stuff about Katniss and Peeta. I was really worried about adding that and figuring what's too much and what's not enough. This chapter was a serious struggle to write, from the training room to the clothes to the interview. Seriously... it usually takes me about two days to write a chapter, but I think this one took over a week. It was too stressful lol

Hope you guys liked it! Let me know what you think!