Chapter Two
Rain
There was another.
Rain poured behind them, pounding in little pitter-patters, constant and harsh. She was cold, with brutal winds seeping through the fabric of their rickety wagon. She shivered. She huddled against herself. But it was too much. The blanket didn't help either, uselessly pressed up against her skin.
But there was another. She held her safe. She held her warm.
O…. O…. she leaned into her embrace.
Another shake from a bump in the road. She shrieked, but the woman held her close. She shushed her and began to… sing.
What was she saying?
What were the words?
She did not know. She could not remember, for the life of her.
Nor the death of the Other.
"So, I see we have a volunteer."
Bones found it nigh impossible to concentrate on much of anything since the train left the station. The sights, the sounds, the light and the commotion were too distracting, too alluring for her to even stand in. What on earth was this thing?
Well, a train, she's been told. Brando told her a lot about trains, and she reckoned that this was… one of them. But it wasn't anything like the ones that she saw back home. Those carried all sorts of animals and livestock, but this was an absurdity. This was maddening. She hadn't seen anything so bright and shiny since the last time the TV turned on and displayed that Capitol place!
Which was where she was going.
Oh yeah.
"It's been a while since we've had someone so willing to give up their life for some poor soul. Although y– Bones?"
"Whatsit?"
"Can you please stop climbing the walls?"
Sitting atop the tippy top of the frame on the windows, Bones cocked her head. "Why?"
"The folks in charge get angry when the tributes mess with the furniture."
"Ooooooooooooooooooooooh, I git it!" Bones said, and with one fell swoop she lept off the side and landed back on the floor with a THUNK!
"You're scared of yer boss, ain'tcha?" Bones said, grinning from ear to ear, "My Ma always said that the Capitol was rough on y'all like that."
"That's… one way to put it."
Bones snickered and immediately skipped over to the buffet table in the middle. Was this what the Capitol folk ate? She was actually a little jealous. She couldn't remember any time her family got to eat this much, and they really got all of that?
Hmph.
She was just about to dive into that big 'ole turkey in the center when the woman spoke up again. "Bones."
"Yeah?"
"Can I speak with you for a moment?"
She shrugged, putting the turkey back down. It didn't matter. She was told it was a big long ride; she could still eat it. It might not be as hot, but who cares? She'd eat it raw if she had to.
"Alrighty, Miss Townsend!"
The table rested on the side of the wall, with two plush couches on either side of it. Her, well, Miss Townsend called him a district partner; he was over somewhere else. Miss Townsend wanted to discuss things with them separately.
Bones hopped hopped into the seat, and stared at the woman, cupping her chin her her hands as she did her best grin at her.
She didn't know jack about the Hunger Games. She was told the basics by Moona and Trotter and Mama and 'Pops, which was that twenty-four go in, and one goes out. But Bones was never told about the details. She didn't even know volunteering was an option until that gray woman, an Escort, as Miss Townsend told her, made her that offer. So she definitely didn't know much about the whole "mentor" thing.
The gist of it, from what she overheard, was that the old woman across the table, Miss Annabella Townsend here, had done the whole rodeo before, and was brought in to make sure that, well, she didn't die.
Cool!
Well, actually, not cool. As fun and shiny as the traincar was, it didn't stop that weird, horrible feeling in her gut from pestering her. The thought, as much as she did to ignore it, wouldn't leave her alone, it just wouldn't. It made her stomach feel heavier than even Moona's and for a second, a heart sped up again. That unfun fact that, well, twenty-three kids (including Willows, in the other traincar), were gonna have to die soon.
So not cool. Not cool at all.
"Bones," the woman said. Miss Townsend sorta looked like her, in the same way that her skin was ghostly pale, and her eyes were just strikingly blue. Dazzlingly so. But her hair, in its neat bun, was a stark white, a sign of age, even if she didn't seem all that old.
And while Bones grinned, all the same, ignoring… well, everything for a second, Annabella held her hands folded on the table.
To the side, she sighed, so the girl wouldn't see.
She always hated this part.
It had been a while since Ten has had a Victor, and once again, it was slim pickings this year. And she knew, deep down, that this was only going to end in tears, if she got attached again. Bones and Willows were both twelve years old, practically destined to die by the merciless hands of the Gamemakers.
And yet…
She knew the gut feeling she had. She got it every year, and should've known better than to trust it.
But Bones… she felt, deep down… maybe, just maybe…
"...You've got a lot of guts, to volunteer." she said, although it was hesitant. Annabella wasn't quite sure what to say, espcially to a girl like Bones, who was… a real handful. She never was the teachery type, not even after however many years of mentoring; that was her sister. But she certainly… tried. Only, Bones was unlike most. Seriously, this girl was almost feral, based on that footage of the Reapings. It was miraculous she even spoke, not to mention that she acted, well mostly civilized. Mostly. She still sat on top of the seat's back instead of the cushion.
A good gimmick. Gamemakers appreciate the ones with gimmicks, meaning that they'll keep her alive for longer.
Bones merely waved a hand, giggling, displaying those oddly sharp teeth of hers. Annabella put on her reading glasses, which were on a chain 'round her neck, to scribble some notes down.
A distinctive appearence, with her hair, eyes, and teeth. The cow skull is unlikely to stay, but try to get the stylists to highlight her uniqueness in the designs to make her stand out to the audience.
"'Course I've got guts!" Bones chuckled, crossing her legs, "I wasn't just gonna let them kill Moon-Moon!"
"...That's very brave of you," Annabella eventuntually said. Right, this was a family thing. That thought sent a pang of guilt and shame through the older woman, and for a moment that Bones wasn't looking, a most unpleasant expression crossed her face. This little girl held so much love in her heart…
But that was a weakness here.
She shook her head. No, she couldn't focus on that right now. Her focus shouldn't be on that, it should be on getting either her or that little boy home. And for now, she had to think like a Gamemaker. That would definitely work as a story. If she played her cards right and didn't attack the audience, then she'd go far with story beats alone.
(She wondered, if her younger sister was of age when she was selected, would she have volunteered as this girl did for her Moona? Annabella certainly hoped not.)
(Not that it made a difference. Odessa died either way.)
She took some more notes.
Keep Bones on track of the family thing. This will keep her arc of getting home interesting enough to keep her alive.
There were so many innocent victims of the Games who were too "plain" for the Gamemakers to keep alive, who suffered horrific death by the crime of not having an entertaining enough life. But Bones, the crazy twelve-year-old volunteer, who wore a cow skull, and climbed the wall of a stage to threaten an Escort until she was allowed to volunteer, all to save her pregnant sister?
She hated thinking this way, but it was great TV. It was unlikely that much harm would befall the girl.
But that didn't mean anything if Bones didn't have the raw skill required to survive.
Annabella glnaced over at the survival column of her notepad as she spoke next. "What do you think your chances are, Bones, of surviving this?"
The girl swaying back and forth on the bench, and Annabella gave up on telling her to stop. She answered straight away. "Super high!"
"And why is that?"
"'Cause," she said, right before she twisted herself upside-down to grin at the woman, "I've survived worse! Lived alone in the woods for a while. Wasn't fun! But I lived!"
She considered this for a moment, then jotted jotted that down. Or course, it could be a bluff but…
Well, she was quite possibly the bluntest little girl she's ever met. Even more so than sweet Oda, back when the girl was still six feet over instead of under.
Now, it wasn't as if the arena this year was guaranteed to cater to young Bones's skill set. It could very well be something much more bizarre than a forest. Audiences everywhere were tired of forests, and craved newer, deadlier potential for destruction. Bones lived in the woods, something that existed in almost every part of Panem. The Gamemakers were brainstorming things that existed nowhere in Panem. She'd have to explain this to her later in their training sessions…
But still, Bones was still in an excellenet position, given her knoweledge of wilderness survival…
However, before her hopes could rise up again, that nagging feeling in her gut reminded her that Bones was twelve, and feral, and attacked a Capitolite. No stage presence. No camera presence, even.
And so carefree, for someone who just left home, for potentially the last time.
The girl was bouncing off the walls, hanging around and hopping about like some bunny. Did she even realize? Did she even know what she signed onto?
"Bones."
"Whatsit, Miss Townsend?"
"What's your plan?"
"I'm just gonna wing it, why?"
Of course.
No plan.
Her gut sank inward.
"You have to have one, Bones."
"Why?"
"Because," she said, pushing up her glasses with her pen. She kept her voice monotone, as to not inflict any emotion.
She couldn't handle any more of that.
"There are people in these Games who have planned out every instance of it. Every step from the Interveiws to Victory, who chose to come here. You are an… outlier, Bones. You will be of great interest to everyone watching at home, and they'll want to send you gifts to keep you alive while you're in the arena."
"Of course they would!" Bones exclaimed. It was too cheerful, "My family'll send me all sorts of–"
"No, they won't. The prices are higher than anything I believe you could afford, unfortunately."
"Then why'd ya tell me?"
"Because," she continued, "other people will. And unless you want those who have plans to crush you, I advise that you receive as many of these gifts as you can."
She cocked her head. Was Annabella getting through to her? She certainly hoped so. If she couldn't then…
She thought of that pregnant woman at the Reapings. That would be her niece, wouldn't it? Bones would never even get to meet her. If Bones didn't understand, then she'd never see her family again. The very thought tempted tears at the edge of Annabella's vision, but she held it down.
But Bones, luckily, seemed to get this, at least. "How do I do that, then?"
"There are interviews," said she, hiding her inner glee, "and public events. You must ensure that you are liked, Bones. It is pivotal that they find you interesting."
"And how would they find me interestin'?"
"Well," Annabella said, putting her pencil down and neatly folding her hands on the table, "You are interesting. Just… do what you do."
Bones stared, and for a while, Annabella was worried that she had messed it up, again.
But Bones began to snicker, and laugh. But it wasn't malicious, no. It was melodious and joyful, even with Bones's crackly voice. "'Course, Miss Townsend, gotcha!"
She sighed. OK. So, this was going… averagely. But still better than she had hoped.
Well. For a mentor, she wasn't very good at mentoring.
Her notepad on the table was flipped open, and Annabella took a look inside. What else was on her agenda…
Oh, right, alliances.
"Another thing," she said, and Bones, who was, once again, preoccupied with that turkey, leaned over to her, beaming mischeviously.
"You need friends in there."
"...why?"
She said that a lot, and Annabella was quite thrilled with that. Bones was as inquisitive as she had to be for a Game like this.
"You're a… small tribute, Miss Benoit," she explained, "And while you may be tough, you're no match for many of these tributes. You'll need friends to make sure you go far. Allies."
For a moment, a new expression, a thoughtful one, which was surprising, passed by Bones's face. She was pondering this new information, and hummed. "Like… like that boy in the other train car?"
"Willows?" Annabella asked, and Bones nodded her head at a nigh impossible speed, "Yes, exactly like him. Only he's–"
"Say no more!"
She was going to sway her against it. Two twelve-year-olds against the world was just too much for her to bear.
But Bones was already gone, having left the traincar to go find her district partner. And Annabella, for once, felt a little… hopeful.
A chuckled escaped her. That little girl had spunk, that was certain. It would go far…
But that thought was soon overshadowed by reality.
Annabella Townsend might have been reserved, even cold to some, but she cared, she really did. She hoped that one day, she'd stop.
Because she couldn't continue losing people that she loved.
"What is this thing?!"
Willows tried to answer, but found himself incapable of such a thing.
Because, well, he had no idea what the girl was referring to.
Was it the weird rancher outfit, complete with comically large hats that both of them had to wear? The chariot? The horse? No, crazy as Bones was (she wore a Cow Skull and LUNGED AT the Escort!) he was pretty sure that, at least, she had seen a horse before.
She seemed uncomfortable, which was fair, so was he. Those stylists were… invasive. They took her skull, too, it seemed, and while he could tell that she was definitely angry about that, there were a lot of other things she was exasperated about.
He tried to remember his mentor's advice. Annabella had told him that he should be allied, and for a moment, she suggested Bones. And that made enough sense to him. He wouldn't find many friends elsewhere; timid little twelve-year-olds tended to die off early, because the audience would have already written him off as fodder.
…just fodder. That was all he was, wasn't it? Destined to die young, destined not to finish his garden, destined to know that his parents have to watch him get murdered on live television, then be forgotten about, forever.
Just fodder…
As the wild, disconnect, and jumbled thoughts bounced across his mind, he glanced at the chrysanthemum in his palms. It wasn't fresh anymore, but it hadn't wilted yet, it hadn't decayed. Its petals still remained the same snow white as when it was picked from his garden that morning.
But it would wilt, eventually. Its petals would fall, and it was only a matter of time. Like him.
Unless, Annabella told him, he allied with Bones Benoit.
He glanced to the girl, keeping one hand on the chariot's railing, and another clutching his flower. He was certain, almost, that she was considered "more interesting" than him. After all, a kid holding a flower doesn't hold a candle to a kid who almost got shot during the Reapings.
But, Annabella seemed uncertain of herself, almost. Like she didn't want them to be allies. Why? He didn't know, really. So what could he do? Just… not ally with her? But…
He had no alternatives. No other kid would ally with him, arguably the weakest link of this year's Hunger Games.
And besides, she asked him.
"That's uh…" Willows tried to answer, glancing at the girl, who seemed to be pinching at her gloves, "a costume?"
"I know what a costume is!" she said, and she reached for the back of the apparel to take it off, only to result in her running in what seemed like circles, like a dog chasing its tail.
He sweatdropped, fiddling with the flower as he glanced at her. "Then what… were you referring to?"
"Idunno!" she said, "I'm just– really confused!"
…he was still going to ally with her, but now his certain death felt more probable than ever.
But, before he could hope to get any meaningful conversation out of his potential ally, the chariots lurched, and he fell forward, squeaking in surprise as he grabbed the side to stop himself from falling out. The flower landed right on the rim, and was teetering off when he dropped down to his knees to snatch it up. A sigh of relief.
He glanced upward, and almost dropped it again.
It was different from seeing this part play out on his TV at home. Over there, the people were far away, and the sound could just be turned off. But here it was deafening, and he covered his ears to block out the screams; screams so loud that they were practically solid.
And it was glittery and grand, beautiful and terrible. He could see cameras on drones, watching him, filming his reaction, and he began to worry that he wasn't doing enough. They were being put on display like objects, like every other tribute. And it was real, all too real…
Surreal, in the worst way. A nightmare come true.
But Bones? Unpeterbed. She was hopping up and down, tongue literally lolling out of her mouth like a dog. She was waving, shouting a chorus of "hellos!" at anybody and everybody in the stands. She was, somehow, getting through this with ease. Doing everything right… sort of? He wasn't sure.
How?
On shaky legs, he stood up, and whispered to her. "W– what are you doing?"
She grinned at him, but the grin was too wide, too crazy, and he would've jumped in fear if there wasn't a risk of falling off.
"Miss Townsend said I had to be likable! My Mama likes it when I do this, so I'm doin' it!"
She continued jumping up and down. "Wanna join me, Crossie?"
…
Oh! He would do that, yes. He had to. He had no other ideas on what to do, and her plan seemed to work.
He wondered why Annabella didn't give him that sort of advice…
He nodded at Bones, albeit uncertainly, "Sure there… ally."
She didn't protest, and there was a quiet sigh of relief. OK, so she was genuine, back on the train. She wants to be allies with him. Good, alright!
Some relief, althought not quite enough as he had hoped, found its way to him.
Willows began to hop with her, but holding the sides so he wouldn't fall out. He wasn't sure if it was working or not, as he waved to the passerbys, who all were certainly placing him at the bottom of their lists for chances of survival.
He could only hope that they were wrong.
He couldn't just be fodder.
"We need more friends."
Bones said this as a matter of fact, and Willows didn't argue, not really. They did need more friends; that's what Annabella told them the previous evening. They needed more allies. More "friends."
He nodded along when she said that. Willows wasn't wholly sure what he'd be useful for, in the grand scheme of things, but he hoped that, with Bones, he'd be able to convince more people to help him live for just a little bit longer.
(He had given up on winning the moment he went on stage.)
The training center was packed with people, people Willows found positively daunting. Because, without a moment's notice, in just a short few days, they'd be fully allowed to kill him, and Bones.
But Bones, as per usual, didn't seem to notice. Instead, she sleuthed through the people, from the buff ones smashing things with hammers to the small ones learning how to light fires. All things Bones knew how to do, but still. Vital skills.
And there was this group, she was told. This pack of wolves in human form, who all came together, who all trained and prepared for this day. They called themselves the "Careers." And Miss Townsend said they were ruthless killing machines, like animals, like the Capitol, she was told. Born and raised to kill.
'Uncivilized,' she heard Ricotta say, in her head.
Uncivilized…
They didn't look too uncivilized, at a first glance. Six, no, five (Annabella said there would be six, where is that last one?) formed a circle in the weapons room, all wearing the same black uniform given to every tribute. She watched them from the window. A tall boy, their leader, Bones reckoned, with red hair stood at the front, was swinging a strange metallic object on a rope. And before Bones could ponder what it was, the Career boy snapped it forward, and it impaled itself a white statue of a human. Bones didn't flinch but…
Huh.
Still, the rest gathered around him, patting himon the back. The glass, frustratingly enough, was too thick to hear through. But she got the gist of it. They were happy, no, proud, no… impressed with him? Bones couldn't tell.
But they seemed civilized enough, for a group of savages.
(They'd have to kill each other though.)
She didn't like that thought. She didn't. But she found it way too hard to ignore, and she had a worse time accepting it. To go home and see her family again, to hug Brando and Ma and Pa and Moona and her baby, everyone here– everyone would have to die.
That meant Willows, that timid boy holding a white, wilting flower. Brando would've liked him…
And the Careers had to go too. Would they all go down? Mama said the real world wasn't survival-of-the-fittest, so what was this? Would a group like that descend into craziness, like…
Like she did, when she died?
Where did that thought come from?
And everyone else in the room would have to go to. Those kids starting fires? Gone. The ones studying plants, like Willows? Gone. The two helping each other out on that jungle gym? Gone! Gone, gone, gone gone gone gone…
"Bones?"
And, that was ENOUGH! Thank you! No more of those thoughts, no more! That was all, thank you!
"What's goin' on, Crossie?"
Willows, like she tended to do, cocked his head to the side. "What's– what's wrong?"
"Nothin'! Now, about those friends…"
Bones never liked people fusing over her. She found it to be… a bit much. No, she didn't like being upset, because that meant that the Benoits would get upset over her being upset and– well, she didn't understand emotions enough to get a hold of that, but it sounded messy.
She went over to the jungle gym. She didn't know why they named it that, it looked nothing like a jungle. But, to be fair, she hadn't seen any jungles, so what did she know?
"Bones, what are you doing?"
"Findin' some friends!"
"Up there?"
She was on the thing now, swinging from the bars.
"Uh… sure, yeah!"
She did a flip, and soon found herself on top of it. Willows gaped.
"How'd you do that?"
"By swingin'!"
From the top of the contraption, she could see a whole room of people. Now, who would make a good friend?
Not those kids starting fires. They reminded her too much of the neighbor boys.
Willows looked afraid of the one over on yonder, so no…
Hm…
What about that kid, tying a rope into knots?
HM…
They had red hair, like that Career girl throwing metal into fake people. She really couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl (or… somethin' else maybe? she was told that that was a Thing that could happen…) from this distance.
But they looked lonely…
Bones didn't like it when people were lonely.
"That one," she said, and she hopped down, doing a flip just because, stunning Willows, "that's our new friend!"
"W–" Willows, wide-eyed, stammered, "The Four Kid?!"
She cocked her head, as it were, "...uh, I 'spose? They look lonely, I thought I'd make a friend!"
"But they're a Career!"
"...but those folks are out over yonder…?"
She gesutured back to the weapons room, then shrugged again, ignoring Willows's cries of confusion.
But Willows knew that Bones was going to end up doing this, whether he liked it or not. He didn't have a say in this.
'Course not. He never got says in things; Willows thought he would've known that by now. Why was he so stupid?
And Bones, silly, whimsical, completely oblivious Bones, simply went over to the Big Scary Career Kid, and immediately waved hello.
The kid, admittedly, wasn't all that scary at a closer look. Red hair, freckles, that sort of thing, which wasn't unusual for a kid from Four. The glasses definitely weren't typical, but the knots they were typing were. They were certainly speedy with it, creating loops and lassos and whatever-other-things-knots-could-do (Bones, admittedly, had no idea), with the greatest of ease as they seemed to simply throw the rope and it resulted in complex formations.
Wowsies!
She walked straight up to them and began to wave. "Howdy! I'm Bones, this is Willows! You look lonely, wouldja like to be our friend?"
Willows, standing behind her, as per the norm, blanched. That was… blunt. Or, no, tactless was more like it.
(Not that he would be much better…)
They stared at them, dropping the knot they had been working on.
In truth, Wix Jehnova knew that they probably shouldn't have been making it in the first place. They were a fisherman's kid back in Four; they knew how to make knots. There were more pressing things they needed to attend to in this short few days of training. They needed to learn how to… they didn't know, make fires, stab people, survive.
But all of that was too daunting of a task to ask of them. It meant they'd need to commit murder soon. It reminded them they'd have to die if anybody here was to live. Their survival guaranteed everyone's death.
Of course, if they could survive. Which was unlikely given that the Gamemakers must hate them. The first non-volunteer from District Four in years? That was an embarrassment. They were an embarrassment.
Wake, their district partner, refused to let them into the Career alliance, of course. No one really wanted them in an alliance either– save for Ziggy, that poor soul. But not even with Ziggy were they going to be alright. The Gamemakers probably hated them, the Careers would probably target them, and with as wise as Ziggy was, it wouldn't help against the onslaught of bad luck they'd end up facing.
So knots. Knots were consistent. They didn't require thought, so they could put their mind at ease.
Until the Ten Pair came.
"Wouldja like to be our friend?"
…oh no.
…oh no.
The twelve-year-olds.
Any scrap of guilt they managed to rid themselves of came back to them in full force at this very moment, causing the seventeen-year-old to blanch internally at this, freezing midway through their fisherman knot. Oh– oh, those children were going to die–
Ziggy wasn't standing by them as the kids came; no, she was a lot more practical than them. The girl was just another eighteen-year-old lowlife who was unfortunate enough to come here, just someone else the Gamemakers wouldn't find quite interesting enough to keep on board. And she was smarter than them too, and actually being productive with her time, learning how to spear fish (a skill Wix already had, but still). Wix had hoped she'd stay with them…
But she probably wouldn't agree to what they were about to do. And for that, Wix was glad she was elsewhere at the moment.
The Ten Pair. A cute little boy, and a terrifying little girl. He had seen stray clips of it on the ride over; she went berserk. Maybe– maybe that could be their excuse? "Oh she's super interesting and cool and she can climb like a spider-monkey; she's such an asset!"
But what about the boy? What could he do?
They would've asked themselves why they'd even bother trying to think of excuses, why they'd even consider Bones's offer, but they'd feel too guilty, too shameful to continue onward if they just left these two behind.
So, all they said was "Sure."
Bones fistpumped, cackling crazily as she suddenly pulled them into a big hug. They flinched at this, and, not really sure what to do from there, with the odd sensation of someone else touching them, slowly and reluctantly hugged her back.
They were certain they'd regret this, but they'd be full of the feeling either way.
"Wix, you've gotta be kidding me."
They rubbed their arm, trying not to look the taller girl in the eyes. They were dark, very dark, as District Sixs' tended to be, and it made them feel strange to look straight at. Especially when she was angry.
"I couldn't just leave them, Ziggs…" Wix pleaded, a blush of embarrassment covering their cheeks, "They'll die out there, without us!"
Ziggy Flannings did consider this, briefly, but still seemed unimpressed. "...It's two twelve-year-olds, 'ix. They're dead already, and we can't afford to carry their weights."
"But what if they don't make it?" Wix pleaded, "What if they get left alone, and they die?"
"Better die early than die late and painfully."
"Look– look Ziggs," said Wix, "I know that you don't want to support any more than you have to–"
"Minus you," she corrected, nonchalantly, while twirling a lock of her hair yet still retaining full eye-contact. Wix squrimed under it, feeling the gaze, her gaze blazing into their skin.
There was a beat.
"...minus me," they repeated, then shook their head and hands to regain their tempo. What were they talking about?
Bones and Willows. Those two. They were discussing those two…
"Anyways," Wix continued, "I know that you want us to just remain, well, us."
"...where are you going with this?"
"But!" Wix said, pointing their pointer finger to the ceiling. It reminded her of some sort of salesperson that used to knock on her apartment door (before she was evicted). "The girl's capable! And a fan-favorite! Didn't you see her opening? Climbed up the wall of the stage; brilliant."
…
Their speech was too animated, too "salesie" for her to adequately listen to, but she got the gist of it. She remembered Bones's intro. It was dramatic and poignant. And despite the blatant treason, she was still heralded as a beloved tribute, if only because the story behind it was so…
Marketable.
Her and Wix were in definite need of that.
But Ziggy still wasn't fully won over. She grunted an interested tone, but before Wix could get their hopes up, she spoke again. "What about the other kid, that boy? What's he got for us?"
Wix inhaled as if to answer, but nothing came out. They slowly lowered their finger.
Ziggy sighed, but Wix, fearing her judgement, quickly continued. "It's– it's a package deal! It's both or none!"
"That's no deal then, 'ix," she told him, flat and plain to view, "I'm not feeding another mouth."
She didn't like that face they made. The kid was just so emotional, and their pouty face made her feel sad inside along with them. But she wouldn't let that cloud her thoughts, no.
But… oh no. Oh, they were… getting to her…
It was a sight to behold, Wix's sad face. It wasn't like it was unprepared, it had been curated since they werre selected for the Games. And, as they decided to bare their own eyes back at Ziggy's, they leaned in close, making uncomfortably long eye-contact.
It was a sight so devastating that it was only clouded by their small, "Please?"
…
… …
… … … …
She threw her hands up into the air, then shoved Wix off of her. "Alright fine, you win! We'll take the tots, just– stop doing that!"
Wix sighed in pure relief, giggling a bit as they let go of a still statue-like Ziggy. But still…
The kids were in. They wouldn't have to feel guily about them anymore…
Genuinely, they bowed to Ziggy, breathing in relief. "Th… thanks, Ziggs."
Ziggy, still stunned from the prior actions, stood still for a moment. Like a statue coming to life however, there was a twitch of movement, and then some choppy nods, and then they were simply nodding regularly, like a normal girl. "F… fine, just no more, aight?"
"Aight…"
And, off to complete her journey, Ziggy left Wix behind for the day, going toward another training set. There was… work to do. Stress to burn. Plans to destroy on account of two preteens…
Behind a pillar, a voice listened in, and smirked.
Annabella glanced at the two tributes sitting around her table that morning. Things were going as expected, honestly. Bones was eating the syrupy pancakes with her hands, and Willows wasn't touching a thing, instead just staring at his flower, sitting in its little vase. Were either of them paying attention? Were either training, or taking this seriously? She hoped so. Genuinely, she hoped so. She didn't want to deal with another loss.
"So, have you been following my advice, you two?"
Bones, unsurprisingly, spoke first. "Yep! Made some friends. The first one's Wix, and they're from Four! Oh, and the other one's Ziggy, but I just call 'em Ziggs, 'cause that's what Wix does! Ziggs doesn't want us to meet with any other tributes, but I'm not sure why. After all, if we were all just friends, then we wouldn't haveta kill each other, would we?"
Both of the other two just stared at her. And Annabella, once again, had to remind herself that this girl was going to die, that her hopes shouldn't be up.
Her kids had allies, that was all that mattered. That and… tonight.
"That's…" Annabella began. She wished she knew how to talk to children. "That's wonderful, you two. Good work."
Bones simply laughed, and Willows just stared at her. Not in any annoyed way, but in… fascination.
"But there is another pressing issue we must discuss, you two," she said, "Do you know what?"
"What?" the reply came from Bones, who, cheekily, was dropping a torn of piece of pancake into her mouth afterward.
"Y- you mean…" said Willows, this time, cocking his head "the interviews?"
"Correct."
She gauged their responsess for notepad, scribbling them down. Willows was gulping, looking off in terror as any sane twelve-year-old would do. As for Bones, the local mad twelve-year-old, she said… nothing. She said nothing.
Except for one thing.
"What's that?"
She felt like it was a fair enough question. Everything– everything in the Capitol was bizarre, and random, and felt like it came out of another world. Their screens, their cars, their weird face paint and murder parties… It was too unfamilar. So she definitely, definitely didn't get this one.
"It's a…" Willows started, "I think it's were they have us talk about ourselves… and if they like us, they give us stuff in the arnea?"
That was… exactly correct. For once, an abstract concept of pride came from Annabella, as well as a fleeting feeling of accomplishment.
Fleeting because, well, she hand't accomplished anything yet.
"Ooooooooooooh…" Bones mused, "this is whatcha said on the train! 'Bout the gifts 'n such!"
"That's right," Annabella said. She… she remembered…
Perhaps they were taking this seriously after all.
OK, OK… now was no time for "socially-awkward" mentor Annabella. She had to remember Odessa's lessons on these. How did you explain what had to be done to save them, when they were children?
She didn't know, really. But she had to try. For them.
Folding her hands on the table, she glanced between the two. This had to work. "Now, there are things you'll have to know about these. You'll both be with our Master of Ceremonies, Io, and he'll be asking you questions for five minutes. Do you hear me? Only five minutes."
They both nodded, although Bones was certainly more active with it than Willows. She continued. "You both need to look as interesting as possible."
She turned to Bones, who was arguably the more "interesting" one of the duo. "Bones."
"Whatsit?"
"You're going to need to act feral up there," Annabella explained, rolling a hand, "You've gotta… sell your act. Otherwise, you won't have too many viewers interested in you."
Did she get it? Did Bones get it?
She cocked her head, and instead of agreeing, said something else.
"Shouldn't I focus more on my family?"
Annabella's heart pounded. She… she could do that. It would feel more heartfelt. But would it get her more sponsorships? It was easier to play along with than a sappy family fable. But since she attacked the escort, that meant that she really had to sell the act, or else it would be seen as "rebellion." Which was the opposite of what she wanted, but she wasn't sure if Bones would get that. "Well… yes. But focus more on looking distinct."
She wilted a little, and didn't hide it all that much. Annabella almost wanted to cry at this. She hurt a little girl's feelings…
(Why couldn't she get it into her head that much worse was going to happen to Bones tomorrow?)
A glance at her watch, and she quickly inhaled. No time to focus on that; the kids had to go to training soon; their time was up. She glanced at Willows, and spoke to him, in her fast voice, in order to ensure that he'd get the message.
"Willows, hobble onstage. You're terminally ill now."
…it was the only thing she could think of to help the fact that he wasn't interesting.
And he clearly had a lot to say about it, she could tell, but without warning, the morning's tone came; the bell had rung. They had no time left.
Annabella had run out of time.
"I'm afraid this is goodbye, you two."
The elevator door opened, and two Peacekeepers stepped out, as they had every morning, to collect them. The two glanced back at her.
"G- goodbye?" Willows sputtered, just as his arm was grabbed "Don't we come back here tonight, after the interviews?"
"No," Annabella said. The doors were closing now, as her two tributes looked at her with wide eyes and open mouths.
She shoved a vase between the now closing doors, which, sloppily, Willows grabbed, holding it close to his chest as Annabella's face disappeared behind the metal.
They had never seen her look more sorrowful.
And Bones could've sworn that she was… crying.
"So, what's our plan?"
It was Willows who asked this, during training; their last training. The whole group was in the survival centre together, with Bones swinging from the top of the ceiling tiles to complete the picture. Ziggy had to admit, she would definitely help with their sponsorships, but she was a hassle to deal with. She was almost regretting allying with Wix, just because of how hard it was to keep track of her.
Almost. She liked Wix. She liked Wix a lot.
But, despite there being no discernable purpose for Willows Cross, Ziggy… Ziggy liked him. He was at least base-level intuitive, she'd give him that much. Much better than Wix, much better than the Wild Child.
Speaking of the Wild Child…
"Oh, right, plans!" she exclaimed, leaping off the ceiling and back onto the tile, "Forgot all about 'em! What's ours?"
"...hunting, mostly."
"Oh!" Bones cried, and she lept up with a ferocious grin, "Oh, I'm so good at that, yeah!"
"No need to act so cheerful about it…" Ziggy muttered, "We have to hunt, well, people too, y'know."
…
…oh.
At once, Wix, Willows, and Bones seemed to become like Ziggy; sad and comptemplative. She regretted that, at least a tiny bit. But this was the Hunger Games, and they had enough on their team to be hunters! It was the only reasonable thing to do, for a quick and decisive win.
(Of course, this meant that it might just be the four of them, at the end.)
(What would occur then?)
As the silence dragged on, it was Wix, in that lovely voice of theirs, spoke up in her stead. "Bones is in charge of publicity. She needs to use her charm to get us what we need."
Bones (still looking at the floor, imagining blood on it), spoke up again, "How do I do that?"
"By existing."
Ziggy nodded. Despite her being twelve years old, Wix was… perhaps right about recruiting her. She had her doubts, but between the three of them; a fodder child holding a flower, a sad eighteen year old, and a disgraced Four kid, Bones was easily a fan-favorite.
Did she attack the escort and nearly get shot? Sure. But from what she's heard about the Gamemakers, they value story over everything, and Bones came straight out of a fairy tale. Her life was so absurd, so crazy, that it was easy to take interest in the arc.
And besides, four was better than two, she supposed. And an allaince made of a disgraced Four, a pitiful lowlife, a feral girl, and an innocent boy? It was… investing.
Why did she ever doubt Wix, lovely Wix?
She picked up on her slack, and stared right at the two twelve-year-olds. They were cute, she'd give them that. Also good for sponsors.
(If they reached the end, would she be willing to end them?)
"At the beginning of the Games," she spoke, ignoring that voice in the back of her mind, "we run to the side. Got it, you two?"
A beat. They both nodded along. Ziggy continued.
"Don't find us right at the start. The first part is dangerous, I want you to stay away from the other tributes. Get out of there, and if something is on your path, grab it. We'll reconvene from there. Understand?"
Willows, shakily, raised his hand. Ziggy nodded.
"How will we know where to find each other?"
"'Dunno," Ziggy said. She honestly didn't. The Games, in the past few years, had been just… more and more bizarre. Honestly, if they got shrunken down and put on a giant chess board as the arena she wouldn't even be surprised at this point. The Capitol was obsessed with making things more elaborate and grand, after all, even at the exspense of competence. Because how were you even supposed to plan for these? Last year was a volcano. The year before was literally in the sky. What next? The Ocean?! How would that even work? Would they just swim the whole time?!
Wix spoke up next. "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it! Don't know what the arena could be, after all…"
Willows appeared to accept this, but Bones, of course, didn't. "What's that mean? I thought we were 'sposed to be in the woods or somethin'. We cen make some ideas for that, right?"
Wix sighed. Of course, if it was the woods, this would just be so much easier…
"If it is," Wix said. They eyed Ziggy, who shrugged. Neither of them planned for the woods, because Capitol audiences probably wouldn't be interested in that again.
"We'll just… mark a tree. OK?"
"OK!" Bones said, grinning fiercely.
So, of course, they had more planning to do. Wix and Ziggy spent the rest of their session explaining it to the tots, and Pengu, from behind a pillar, watched as they came up with ideas. The four of them were smart, she'd give them that.
But unfortunately, none of it would come to fruition.
She knew that there were probably more productive things to do than sleuth around, but the Gamemakers weren't exactly quiet, and it wasn't exactly that hard to find them. The door was locked, of course, but sound still travelled through.
And oh boy, she was not ready for this arena.
She had been eying the two Fours since she heard. She needed to ally with one, but how? Obviously, she couldn't ally with the Career boy– Wake Atlantic was his name, right? So it was that Wix kid that she needed. But they already had allies, and that was no good, not to her. Because that Ziggy girl seemed to only accept the Ten tots because they looked good on camera (and also because, clearly, she and Wix had a thing for each other, but that didn't matter), and she didn't seem to want any more people to trouble with. So what then?
…Pengu had an idea.
Bones, that feral girl that the Gamemakers, as she heard, had taken interest in, was currently on her stomach, looking upward as her allies made their plans. She was smiling; so optimistic, so cheerful despite the impending disaster.
Willows was too afraid to convince.
Wix only wanted the tots because they'd feel bad otherwise.
Ziggy wouldn't take them no matter what.
But Bones? With a little bit of trust, it would go a long way…
Slyly, a grin appeared as Pengu left the four to discuss.
"And what's your name, sport?"
"I'm Wix, Wix Jehnova."
"Ah, Wix! You've been all the rage over here, have you heard?"
"Uh, no, actually! I am?"
"Of course, of course! It's the first time someone was just–" *pop* "–reaped in Four for quite a while! Did they still let you into the Careers, sport?"
"No, no… unfortunately the Careers don't like me very much… but I have something better than that."
"Oh, well then, the plot thickens! What do you have then, Wix, that you can use to– bamboozle those Careers?"
"Well, I've got my own alliance Io, and I think that we're, well, pretty shipshape!"
"Oh, the folks at home are gonna eat. that. up! Wix! Now, tell me, kiddo, just between you and me… who is it?"
"Well… that's my little secret for now!"
"Ahahaha! Oh, alright now, you little trickster, we'll just have to wait then!"
"Hopefully not too long!"
…
"'m Ziggy, nice to meet you."
"Nice to have you! Well then, Ziggy, tell us a bit about yourself! Let's get to know you a little before the Games tomorrow."
"Well I'm not that special…"
"Oh don't be so hard on yourself, Ziggy, I'm sure you're just– lovely!"
"I didn't finish. I'm not interesting… at least, not to most people, Io. But a few see a bit of my charms, and maybe you will too."
"Oh… I see! I like you– so, tell me, what are some of these charms?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to ask my good friend Wix about that, Io.~"
*gasp* "Is that one of Wix's fabled allies, I see?"
"Maybe I am, Io, maybe, I, am!"
"Well you've heard it here first, folks, the first of the non-Career alliance has revealed herself!"
"Stay tuned, friends~"
…
"Hi there, youngster, what's your name?"
"W… Willows Cross."
"Alright, alright, and how old are you, Willows?"
"Twelve…"
"I see! And I've heard from your mentor, you all remember, Annabella Townsend? She was an icon of this arena! And she tells me, Willows, that you've been battling a terrible illness!"
"She told you that?"
"Yeah! Any comments on that?"
"...I'm so lucky to be alive, Io. And I hope that the… uh… the folks at home can look at me and… be inspired by… by my story."
"Of course, Willows, of course! Can we all get a round of applause for Willows here, folks?"
*applause*
"Alright, Willows, could you perhaps tell us what this illness is?"
"It won't be in your medical books."
"Oh, that rare, huh? And when you win the Games, do you think you'll get treated for that? Get it all sorted out?"
"O… Of course! And it'll be easy, because, I've got some incredible allies…"
"Oh… oh, oh wow–! intriguing! Who are these allies, then, Willows?"
"I think you know!"
"Do we?"
"Yeah you do… I'm allied with Wix!"
"Huh! That's ceraintly something! You must be mighty impressive to make it with such an alliance; how'd you do it?"
"You'll find out soon enough!"
…
Why were her friends acting like that?
On the screens, they all spoke like different people. They sounded so uncomfortably fake to her, but as to how, she… she couldn't put her finger on it. But they didn't feel like her friends up there. Wix was sweet, but they had never been a sweet-talker. Ziggy had never been that sociable, and Willows was flat-out lying.
And it was her turn next. After whatever a "commercial break" was.
Annabella told her to be feral. And, at a first glance, she shouldn't have a problem with that. After all, that's what, apparently, she was, wasn't it? Ma and Pa would sometimes say so. And all she had to do was look crazy and such, and she'd be interesting.
That's all her allies every talked about. She was interesting, only that, always that. But… but…
She didn't know how to describe it, but that just felt wrong.
Not even the outfit she was made to wear felt right. It even had her cow skull on it, her beloved cow skull, and it still felt wrong. It still felt fake. Like they were simplifying her very life.
Bones might not have had a past. She only existed past a certain point, with her first memories being in that forest, and before that, in her head, was a mystery. A blank page. And everyone always seemed to match her with that. She was a child of the woods and that was all. But…
That wasn't… all she was.
They wanted her to be this, false, odd, estranged version of herself. And she didn't understand why, but for once, the fact that she was considered feral was getting to her. She… she had a family! She had a life outside the woods. And sure, her past was rooted in those woods, but that wasn't all she was!
But what was she, if not the Wild Child?
A… a Benoit, right?
And something else.
Of course, there had to be something else. She had to come from, well, somewhere, didn't she? She had to have a mommy or a daddy. But all of that felt too distant, too far away for her to recall.
And none of it mattered, because soon she'd be pulled away, and she didn't really have any other ideas other than to, regreattbly, follow Annabella's advice.
…
Wait.
In the golden waiting room, there was a whole lot of emptiness. But… it wasn't empty was it?
You couldn't sneak up on a predator. That much she knew. But she was the predator, and someone was watching.
"Who's there?!"
…
"I said," she shouted, louder this time, "who's–?!"
"OK, OK, stop it, or else they'll hear you out there!"
Behind one of the pillars, a figure emerge. Short and scrawny, like her, but with darker skin like Willows and the Benoits. Her hands were in the air, and she chuckled lightly, a hint of mischief in her eyes, like Husky and Furr whenever they planned anything.
"Who're you?"
"Oh," she said, in an odd, overly-exaggerated voice, but Bones wasn't quite sure what was being exaggerated as she mozied on over to her, "I'm so sorry, but I forgot all about manners."
Grabbing Bones's hand and shaking her up and down, she spoke again, as Bones was too, well, confused to yank it away, "I'm Pengu, Pengu Pelosis, Eleven's girl. Pleasure to make your acquaintance!"
Bones, finally catching up with the situation, pulled away and began to hunch over, teeth bared and growl resting in her throat.
(Why did that feel so… off?)
Pengu lazily put her hands in the air, and walked backward, but there was still a sly smirk on her lips. Bones decided to question it.
"What're ya doin' back here, then, Pengu?"
"Oh, you know," she said, twirling in the shiny gown onto one of the chairs, crossing on leg over the other, "I go after you, y'know, so I'm just waiting for my turn, Bones."
"Then why were ya hidin'?"
"Can't a girl have a little fun, Miss Benoit?"
Bones didn't know how to respond to that. Or how to respond to Pengu at all. So she couldn't say anything as Pengu gleefully giggled, and continued.
"Besides, I've got some advice for you, Bones."
She stood her ground as Pengu got back up, strutting toward her. All of her gut reactions were telling her not to trust her, but she continued onward. "And what's that?!"
"Don't be feral. Be yourself."
A beat.
…
…she cocked her head, not knowing what to say. "B- but Miss Townsend–"
"Your mentor," Pengu interrupted, "I've seen her on screen before. She doesn't have any stage presence–" she emphasized those words, "–and she doesn't know how to work the stage. But me?"
A giggle. "I know a few things, and one of them is that looking insane won't help you, dearie. So why not just speak your mind? The fact that you aren't being fake will stand out, and they won't even know why."
Bones, initially, was about to refuse her. About to tell her to go away. Annabella was probably right, so why should she listen to some stranger, who could just be tricking her?
…but Bones… she wanted to be…
Herself.
On the other side of the room, oengu was observing her nails, and glanced upward at Bones. She grinned, resting her chin on her fist.
"Think about it quick, honey," she said, "'Cause you're up."
"W– what?!"
Looking at the screen, Bones blanched. Io was revving up to put her back on.
She had to decide, now.
And as she walked out to the crowd, the too bright, too loud crowd, a faint Pengu could be heard.
"Good luck, sweetie!~"
…
"And now, we have a special treat for you. She's the little girl who volunteered to save her pregnant sister, the ferocious feral, the wild child, it's–! Bones Benoit!"
*applause*
"H– hi."
"So, Bones! I've heard that you're a little feral, huh? Didja really grow up in the woods?"
"I did– I did do that, uh, yeah."
"Wow, folks! We've got a true wild child on our paws today! So tell me, Bones, what can we expect of you in the arena?"
"...I'm gonna win! I'm gonna go home and see my sister again! Ya hear me?! I'm gonna see Moona again, and, and Brando, and Ma and Pa–!"
"We hear you, Bones, and you've certainly sacrificed a lot for them! But I thought you lived in the woods, who are these people to you?"
"They're me family! They took me in, they loved me, they're– I love them!"
*sounds of adoration from the audience*
"Aw… well, that's just wonderful, Bones. Now, did you decide to ally with your district partner, Bones?"
"I– uh, yeah, I did. And with Wix, and with Ziggy! They're a lot of fun… they remind me of my own family, y'see–"
"Oh, and the plot thickens again! Wix's alliance is certainly shaping up to be a hit!"
"Y- Yeah!"
"Now then, Bones. I was told you'd be feral and crazy, and you certainly looked like it back at the Reapings! But you seem to just be a big sweetheart, don't you? You just love your sister!"
"I do, I do! A whole lot, Mister Io, a whole lot! I'd die for my family!"
"Let's sure hope you don't!"
*laughter*
"Well, that's all the time we have then, Bones. It was a pleasure! Can everyone give her a round of applause?"
*applause*
"...Bones."
"Miss Townsend!"
She made an "oof!" noise as Bones tackled her, giving her a hug.
"I thought we wouldn't see you again!"
The girl hugged her just a bit longer, and then with one last squeeze, let go, sitting on a bench instead.
They were together in the launch room, but, unlike years past, they weren't being risen up. Annabella didn't know why, but it must be a particularly strange arena for that. No, they were being airdropped soon, and soon she'd be lifted up into the plane.
She gulped. This was it then, she'd never see Bones again after this, unless she managed to miraculously came back
It crushed her heart. She liked Bones, she liked her a lot. She was sweet, and cheerful, and generally…
She didn't deserve the awful fate that awaited her.
If Annabella could, she'd find a way. If it was possible, she'd take the girl and run. She'd leave the Capitol, and take Bones, she'd take Willows, and she'd run, run to somewhere where they'd never be able to hurt these children ever again.
But that was impossible. That was something that she's wanted to do, year after year. But she couldn't. They'd find her. They'd kill her, and take the children right back, then torture them in the worst ways. No matter how much she wanted these children safe, she couldn't see it being the case.
Even in the best case scenario, one of these children would have to die.
But she put on a brave face, for Bones, just as she did for Willows. She smiled, and despite the tears that always, inevitablly, found their way to her eyes, and tried her best.
"I wanted to see you, one last time, Bones. You were very brave out there, last night, and even if you didn't do as I said, it worked, and you should be proud."
"W-well thanks, Miss Townsend!"
She still smiled, still acted as if nothing was wrong. Annabella couldn't blame her. The horrors of the arena were something she would rather delay her from as much as possible.
But Bones's face fell.
"Why are you cryin'?"
She knew she was, and couldn't stop it. She didn't want to.
"Please, Miss Townsend, please don't cry, I'll be alright!"
But she couldn't. She felt frozen, stuck. She couldn't move.
"I…" she managed to stammer out to Bones, "I just…"
"Miss Townsend, please don't cry, please!"
She huddled up to Annabella, and a wave of guilt coursed through her. Was Bones prepared enough? Was she ready, or did she fail another child? Was another child going to die a horrible, painful death, and was she powerless to stop it again?
"...I…" she finally managed to say, "I can't, Bones. But… but that's alright."
"But–" Bones started, but she shook her head.
"I don't want you to worry about me, Bones," she said, wiping her eyes, "I only want you to worry about getting out of there. I want you to make it home to your family, Bones. That's all that matters."
"B- but Miss Townsend!" she cried, "what about you?"
"Oh, I'll be alright!" Annabella said, and now it was her turn to hug the girl close. She was so small and young, so innocent… and yet the Gamemakers were sending her away, sending her away to die.
She squeezed her close as if the world would stop as she did.
But the time came when she to had to go, and as such, she had to let go.
And once Bones Benoit waved goodbye to her, cheerfully and with care as the tube pulled her up, away and out of view forever, did Annabella allow herself to fall to the floor. Tears racked her vision, and her glasses clattered to the floor as she rubbed her eyes.
Another victim had been taken. Another child was gone.
…
… …
… … …
… … … …
….
…what…
..what happened?
Her head was pounding, and as Bones got to her feet, her vision blurred, and she racked her brain for memories.
There was… a plane… and… and… there was gas in it, and…
Then nothing.
She felt a little nauseous already, but she didn't know why. She was lying, facing the sun in an endless blue sky…
And a voice, in the distance, rang out.
Thirty. Twenty-Nine. Twenty-Eight…
A… countdown? But why?
Where even was s–
OH.
Oh right, RIGHT. The Hunger Games. This was the beginning!
She looked down, seeing herself on a metal circle. She was told not to get off of it by Annabella, at some point, until the horn sounded at the end of the countdown. She was told then, to find her way out, to escape by her allies.
Her vision came to, and there was… what.
What was this?!
The tributes, including her, all stood in a circle, and they were surrounded by blue. Blue everywhere. They were standing on a wooden thing, some sort of… uh… thingie, and they were surrounded by nothingness.
No, not nothingness.
The Ocean.
The one thing she didn't know how to do.
Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen…
On the sides of the floating contraption they were on were several smaller ones, ones Bones didn't know how to operate.
Twelve. Eleven…
Supplies were scattered everywhere. Her heart was… pumping, really fast. She didn't know this feeling, that she was feeling…
She was breathing quickly. And everything felt like too much. A weight settled in her tummy as it twisted itself into more knots than Wix could ever tie. What was this sensation, this awful thing?
Ten.
Where were her friends? Uh…
Nine.
There was Wix, across the way. And two spaces to their left stood their counterpart: Wake.
Eight.
Willows… where was Willows?! She glanced in a panic to her left and right. Next to her were people she had never seen before, but three to her right, holding a white chrysanthemum in a vase that Annabella handed him was Willows.
Seven. Six…
She searched frantically in the crowd, but saw no sign of Ziggy and her tanned skin. Where was she?!
Five. Four. Three…
The moment intensified, and she felt the wold falling away from her. This was… this was it, wasn't it?
Three.
There was Pengu, about seven tributes away from her. They made eye-contact, and she blew her a kiss.
Two.
But where was Ziggy?!
One.
The moment, the awful moment, felt like it lasted forever. Her heart pounded in her chest, and only the fleeting sound of rushing blood and the waters below reached her. Where was she going? To one of those smaller wood things, right? She had to, they said to make it off…
But what then? How did she get away and find them, like Wix and Ziggy said?!
And where was Ziggy?!
But there was no time to find out.
The horn sounded.
And the screaming began.