+ Again, thanks to ArtemisCarolineSnow for the review! Seriously, you are a terrific reader and reviewer! Time to dive into the arena and some action. Fair warning; I'm looking to ramp up some of the horror aspects far more than the book games did down the road. Just seems like there's so much more potential in the arena besides just mutts, Careers, and some bad weather/terrain effects to be exploited.

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The orchestra of cannons began a little while later.

I sat down on a rock and dug my feet into the loose, scraggy stones of the earth, rubbing my cheeks and coming away with my palms covered in grease and dust. My knees ached from the several times I'd tripped running from the Cornucopia, stubbing my feet on rocks hidden in the darkness. Only a dull violet glow from the city ruins far behind me, along with the frequent flashes of lightning, kept me on a straight path away from whatever horrors I'd escaped from.

Boom.

The sky flashed, but it wasn't lightning. A bright white flare burst through the darkness from the distant horizon to my right. Boom, again – the thunder, no, the gunshot – the cannon shot.

Boom. Boom.

Five, six, seven – and just before I moved onto eight, a red flash high above me lit up the sky. The familiar rumbling hum of a hovercraft joined the bass drum strikes of the cannons. Here for the bodies, I thought, but I stopped as the aircraft halted high above the arena, far off from where I figured the Cornucopia had to be. A trio of white streamers flared off into the sky, and in a brief moment, I saw as something jetted away from the hovercraft towards the ground.

It hadn't been here to pick anything up – it'd arrived to drop something off.

I was perplexed. Had the Gamesmakers forgotten something by mistake? Maybe I'd just been mistaken; maybe it had just lowered a claw or something else to scavenge for dead tributes. Most likely, the arena's darkness already was playing games with my head. I never minded the night back home, but in District 5, thousands of stars and the familiar creamy band of the galaxy called the midnight sky home. Here there was nothing but the ink above from horizon to horizon, broken up only by the hot lightning that lit up menacing dark clouds.

The color had been drained of this place. Everywhere I looked, sharp, spiny gray and black rocks stretched out as far as I could see. The arena had pushed back life itself. There were no trees, no animals, no plants, no sign that nature had ever touched this place.

I had no choice. I'd fled with nothing but my clothes and my rapidly diminishing confidence, and without water or food out here, I wouldn't make it three days, even if Delfin or Acheron or some other tribute didn't come along and skewer me on the pointy end of a stake.

Now wasn't the time to sulk about how I'd run away without even trying to salvage a moral victory at the Cornucopia. I had to leave that behind.

Scrambling over the loose shale ground meant that heading off in the direction of a tall, shadowy peak was slow going. I had nothing to help me keep my balance here in these dead lands, and every ten minutes I had to pick myself up from yet another ungainly fall.

What a clumsy one! I imagined Cicero Templesmith laughing back in his studio, free from the oppressive dry heat of the arena. Good thing she didn't try to fight it out. She'd probably fall onto a sword by accident!

Time trudged on. The night didn't. The wasteland air sapped all the saliva out of my throat and mouth, but I'd seen no sign of water since…however long I'd been hiking from the Cornucopia. I had no way to tell time here with no sun and no moon, and the only certainty I'd concluded was that it was before the end of the first day. So far, I'd seen no sign of the nightly death count in the sky. I didn't even know how many other kids had died with the hovercraft's interruption. I was blind and deaf, scrabbling this way and that in the dead wastes.

My stomach growled. Now my not eating much this morning felt idiotic. I should have eaten as much as I could. I should have done a lot of things. I should have learned more, I should have made a better impression. Stupid things. Stupid girl doing stupid things, and now it was going to bite me if I couldn't even find a drop of water in this place.

After the fiftieth or so time I'd slipped on shale, I came face to face with the Gamesmakers' idea of lunch.

An oblong beetle the size of my fist scurried under a stone. The glare from a lightning flash shined off of its glossy shell, and it probed the air with a pair of finger-length antennae. I'd seen bugs like this all the time in District 5, collecting around the base of algae farms and congregating about the back door of my family's cantina that ill patrons frequented. I ignored them then, but I couldn't afford to ignore this guy.

I was hungry.

My stomach rumbled in discontent – both out of a lack of food and the prospect and chowing down on an insect. In the dusk, I couldn't figure if this bug had been one of the "edible insects" that training was supposed to teach, but right now, it was the only thing I had in terms of energy.

Just bite the bullet and eat it, Terra.

I scrunched up my nose and caught the bug by its legs. It clawed at my fingers, but I was determined to beat this thing. I sure hadn't beaten anything else, from training to the Cornucopia to what I could only imagine any sponsors in the Capitol thought of me by now. I could do this. I wasn't afraid of everything.

"C'mon," I said, squeezing my eyes tight and dropping the bug into my mouth.

Youch! It clamped onto my tongue as soon as it fell in, and I bit down instinctively. A crunchy goop exploded in my mouth, the taste of bitter almonds someone had left out for far too money months fanning out to every corner of my mouth. I coughed, hiccuped, and forced myself to swallow. Blech!

I leaned over and sucked in a long breath. Please tell me there's actual food in this place.

Still, it was better than nothing. I clambered on, climbing over a nearby hill and facing down into a gravely crater. I'd begun to regret coming this way so far from anything alive, but one look down told me that I wasn't entirely without luck.

A red flare burned down in the center of the crater, hissing with crimson sparks. It was light – light, real light that wasn't from the sky or from the cannons. Even better, a small, wooden box about the size of a small couch sat next to it, covered in gravel but containing a mystery begging to be unlocked. Maybe it was food, water, tools even, something, anything I could use to get out of the monochromatic despair of these dead wastes.

I nearly tripped over my own feet as I scrambled down the scree. When I rushed up to the crate and saw the steel latches on the back of the wood, however, reality smacked me in the face. Here I had a box with untold benefits for staying alive right in front of me…

…and I had no way of opening it.

Two Hells! I smashed a rock into the box's lid in frustration, but I didn't do more than split the loose stone into pieces. The rocks here were too brittle and frail, and kicking the box only left me with a sore foot. I sat down on the box and clamped my palms against my head, seething in frustration. Think. The flare could work, but I risked setting ablaze anything inside – and I certainly didn't have any water to put out a fire with.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much more of a choice. Just as I bent down to grab it, however, a loud hiss froze me solid. Illuminated by the flickering red light, a thick, shiny-skinned snake slid along the base of the box, eying me up and tasting the air with its tongue. It looked just as hungry as I was.

Slowly, surely, I backed up. Trap! Maybe there was something in the box, but grabbing the flare would no doubt earn me a bite – and I had no idea whether or not the snake was poisonous. It was big, and the scaly triangular ridges over its beady eyes gave it a menacing glare. So much for looking bold. I wasn't going to screw around with that. This was the Hunger Games. No doubt the snake was packing a gallon of venom behind its fangs. I'd had my fill of rattlesnakes back in the canyon at home, and the last thing I wanted to do was die panting and gasping as snake venom flowed through my veins. Knowing the Gamesmakers, this snake was probably much, much more deadly, as well. I doubted I'd have minutes.

But danger had boxed me into the crater. The snake had forced me out of the bottom, and climbing back up would mean scrambling over all the loose scree to the lip of the hill. I wouldn't get there in time: Standing at the top, a tall boy with a backpack over one shoulder eyed me. A flash of lightning lit up the iron crowbar in his hands. His trousers were torn and shredded, as if he'd already survived one fight with another kid or an animal.

Oh no. No, no.

He kicked a mound of scree down the hill and shrugged. "Hey."

I backed up, putting the box between me and him and careful to keep sight of the snake. "Hey."

The boy leaned back and slid down the hill, landing on all fours a dozen feet away. Another lightning flash lit up his face: He was the boy from District 7, the one I'd seen showing off skills as a fist fighter back in training. He had a weapon, he had supplies, and he was a lot, lot bigger than me.

"Saw you come this way from a ways off," he said, glancing down at the box. "Anything good in there?"

"You can have it," I said. I glanced over my shoulder. Even if he slipped as much as I did on the loose rock, there was no way I'd get up the hill before he overtook me. Heat flashed across my face, and I felt numb.

He snorted. "Kinda intend to. But, y'know. Gotta take care of business."

"D'you want something?" I asked, stalling for time. My mind raced and my heart pounded. The rocks were too brittle to defend myself with. I didn't have any weapons on me. I was half his size. Negotiate? C'mon, c'mon: "Look, I, uh…I know the volunteer kids always team up. We can look after each other. I'm handy."

"Not this year," he said, planting the curved end of his crowbar into the ground and wiping his forehead. "The boy from 2 killed his district partner. I saw it. The pair from 4 hightailed it. There's no little band."

Oh Gods. Plan B was down. My throat tightened up and I balled my fists. "Y'know, I just…I…how 'bout I just go? You – I…you probably don't wanna kill anyone anyway." Fear licked like a fire at my face. "I probably won't last too long out there as it is."

The boy sighed and hoisted his crowbar. "Don't like to tempt fate," he said. "Look, I'm not a sadist. Just come over and kneel down and I'll make it fast. Back of the head, whap, you won't even feel it."

My lungs felt like lead. I shook my head and stepped back. "I can't," I whispered.

"Suit yourself," he said.

He stepped forward and I glanced down. I had something, one shot. One stupid, desperate shot to survive, and it wasn't in my hands. I pivoted to my right, trying to keep the box between the two of us. He frowned and placed his hand on the lid, vaulting over the box and landing right next to the snake's head.

Whap!

The serpent lunged. Lightning crackled overhead as the snake dug its fangs into the boy's exposed ankle, right between where the seam in his trousers had torn. He swore and jumped back, his eyes widening as large as bird eggs as he saw the animal. He dropped his crowbar in shock and bent down in a panic, rubbing his finger over the bite wound.

"No, no…"

C'mon Terra! I lunged and hurled a chunk of rock at the snake, distracting it just long enough to get my hand around the flare and jump back.

"That was a dirty trick, bitch," the boy from 7 groaned, picking up his crowbar. "Probably not even poisonous."

"Keep away from me," I croaked, waving the flare in front of my face and keeping the snake between us. He wasn't down, and I could see battle rage in the red lines in his eyes.

He spat at me. "One snake's not gonna save you."

The boy lumbered towards the box again, but he grimaced as he planted the bitten leg. Whatever the snake had injected, it was working fast. As I circled and kept the box and the serpent between us, the boy clenched his teeth and breathed heavily.

"Get over here, coward," he snarled, his voice breaking as he swore.

I shook my head. "Uh-uh. Stay away!"

He grunted and smacked at the snake with his crowbar, knocking it out of the way. He lunged at me, but I jumped aside and waved the flare at him again. The boy backed up out of the way of the burning sparks and right into the snake's path a second time.

Whap!

He went down. The boy grabbed his leg and groaned, rolling away from the snake and dropping his crowbar to the ground. The venom was acting fast. Already he was spitting up and coughing, struggling to get on his two feet. As soon as the boy stood up, he fell down to the ground again and choked up foam. He tried to say something, but his face was so contorted in pain that I could only make out a garbled jumble.

I wouldn't want to die like that.

I held my flare aloft and circled around the box, careful to keep my distance from the snake. The boy lurched at his crowbar like a broken marionette. He fell on his face in the scree, gasping and struggling for a breath as I pried his weapon away.

"I told you to stay away," I said, flinging my flare away and wielding his crowbar in both hands. "I wouldn't have done this if you'd just let me go. Now I have to. Sorry."