Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
Luminita Summerfield, 17
Sorcha was raging, her face red, her eyes blazing with fury. Luminita had tried to talk sense into her – there were four people in the other alliance, the same size as their own group – but Sorcha was refusing to listen.
Calpurnia seemed eager enough for a fight, holding her sword in one hand and a sturdy branch taken from the prison garden in the other. Marcellina, like Luminita, looked less sure, but she was couching her throwing knives and trying to look brave as they tracked the other alliance.
They didn't have much of a headstart, and their group was steadily catching up, making their way through the already crushed path in the long grass. Already Luminita could see them ahead, two girls, a boy, and a fourth with long silver hair.
"You lot–" Sorcha shouted before they could utilise their element of surprise. "How dare you trap me, you fu–"
The silver haired one whirled round, revealing they had a very dangerous looking spear in their hands. Sorcha squealed, raising her sword and stumbling back behind Calpurnia. "You– I'll– Ugh!" She took a wide swing at them with her sword.
Luminita cried out. "Sorcha!"
The bigger of the two girls fired off an arrow. Luminita ducked and it flew over her head. "Wait–"
Calpurnia threw herself forward and slashed at the boy with her sword. The other girl caught his collar and pulled him back without looking. Calpurnia stumbled with the momentum.
"I'll get you for what you did!" Sorcha shouted, though she really wasn't doing anything except shout at them. Marcellina jumped in to target the girl with the bow as she nocked another arrow. Calpurnia took another slash at the boy, the girl pulled him aside again–
And Luminita saw her face for the first time.
"Celeste?" she asked.
She hadn't thought of the younger girl, even after not seeing her face in the sky, she hadn't been a priority, but now she remembered all her cryptic words.
"Your yellow bird makes a lot of noise," Celeste said, and for the first time, something clicked into place in Luminita's head.
"You know this girl?" Sorcha demanded.
"Yeah, we've met a few times," Luminita replied.
Celeste glanced at Sorcha and then looked back to Luminita. "You've been listening to it."
"Who are you calling it?"
"Yeah, I–" Luminita sighed. It really had been obvious, hadn't it? "I see what you mean now."
Zephyr, as he'd introduced himself as, patted Celeste's arm. "It's alright."
"Are we fighting or not?" demanded the silver haired player, swinging their spear around.
Luminita took several steps back, knocking into Sorcha as she went. "No! No no no. No fighting."
Sorcha growled, raising her sword. "Oh, we absolutely–"
"–wanted to see if you were open to a bigger alliance!" Luminita said.
"No," said the spear-wielding player.
"Agreed," said the girl with the bow. "That would be far too big an alliance."
"But we shouldn't be fighting each other," said Celeste, her attention fixed somewhere on the sky. "We should be working together against the true enemy."
"And who is the true enemy?" asked the girl.
Celeste only pointed at the sky.
"She means the hijackers," Zephyr said.
"How are we supposed to fight them?" asked Marcellina.
"Yeah, they're not even taking part in this stupid Game!" snapped Calpurnia, kicking at the long grass.
"We find the firebird," replied Celeste.
"Again with the firebird," muttered the silver haired player.
Celeste nodded. "Find the firebird and we gain access to the enemy. Gain access to the enemy and they can be defeated."
"And through the power of friendship we'll win the day," muttered silver-hair.
Celeste smiled. "Come with us or don't, but this is the only path on which some may survive."
"Do you mind if I join you?" Luminita asked Zephyr.
He shrugged. "The more the merrier I guess." He looked at his other two allies. "Um. You mind?"
"Yes," muttered silver-hair.
The other girl nodded. "Yes, but– Do you really think she could shut this down?"
Zephyr squared his shoulders as he looked at her. "I believe in her."
"Then– I guess more hands gives us more protection."
Phoenix Sterling, 13
Vivaldi thought Phoenix knew what she was doing.
Wasn't that funny?
Phoenix had no idea what she was doing, she just knew she had to find her siblings. But Vivaldi was even worse than her! According to him, he wasn't even super well informed about the Hunger Games.
"It's not something I ever had time for," he explained as they walked through the fog. "My parents wanted me to focus on my music, so I did."
"But you can have interests outside what your parents want you to do!" Phoenix exploded, throwing her hands up. "Don't you ever want to… I don't know, go to the park and get dirty?"
"I'd rather go to the park and paint."
Phoenix sighed. "And I'd rather go to the park and read, but that's not the point."
"I think I'm missing your point," Vivaldi admitted.
"Yeah," she agreed.
"What was your point?"
"There's more to life." She gestured around them. "I like trains–"
"Yeah, I got that."
"And I want to go into engineering. But I can do other things too. Go shopping, watch films, spend time with my friends. My siblings, too. Or we did, before…"
Before they'd got too old to want to spend time with her doing things that she liked.
"What do you do?"
Vivaldi's eyes glittered. "I have a boyfriend."
"Oh, yes, I remember you saying. Isn't he here too?"
"Yeah. But we entered separately." Vivaldi shook his head. "I thought I understood him, but I'm not sure about anything anymore."
"What's his name?"
Vivaldi blushed. "Thorin."
"Tell me about him."
"Like what?"
Phoenix shrugged. "Anything. Everything. How did you two meet?"
"Well, he's an artist too…" Vivaldi started, and launched into some longwinded story of meeting at the arts supply store. He was several minutes into it when Phoenix walked into a wall.
She grunted and fell back, landing on her ass. "What–?"
"What is it?" Vivaldi asked, feeling forward. "A wall?"
Phoenix ran her hands over it until she came to a corner. "I think it's a building of some kind. Come on, help me find the door."
"Is that wise?"
"Must be better than just wandering around out here. Come on."
It didn't take long to find a door. It was beneath an overhang at the short end of the building, set deeply into the wall. Phoenix felt for a handle, but the door was jammed tight.
"I don't think either of us have the strength to get that thing open," said Vivaldi.
Phoenix muttered a curse and kicked the door. Hard. Pain exploded in her foot, she saw stars – and drew in a breath of cold air. The buzz of her pod hummed around her. Outside, the aisle was empty.
The world snapped back into place around her.
She stared at the stone building.
"Phoenix?" asked Vivaldi.
She stumbled back a step, choking on the warm fog.
Vivaldi caught her elbow. "Did you hurt your foot? Do you need to sit down?"
She left him help her over to the stone building and collapsed against the wall. Nausea swept through her. She groaned, resting her head on her knees.
"Phoenix?" Vivaldi asked, catching at her shoulders. "What is it? Can you hear me?"
"I hear you," she mumbled.
"Oh. Good."
Phoenix let her head flop back against the stone wall of the building. "I'm fine, Vivaldi. I just…" She looked up at the sky. How well could her words be heard by those watching, as they were speaking? She reached up to grab Vivaldi's collar and pull him down to her level, putting her mouth right by his ear. "I just saw the inside of my pod."
Vivaldi stumbled back and stared at her. His mouth opened and closed. Phoenix rubbed her head. This meant they were still in their pods instead of being physically transported outside them. And if she could see her pod…
Perhaps there was another way out from all this.
Andreas Amandiel, 18
They stayed in the area of the two other players they had come across, watching them and their interactions. Much to Andreas's frustration, their alliance did actually seem very secure, the two of them speaking to each other as equals and discussing the situation as they walked.
They must be real life friends, he had decided, and had clearly played The Game before. That could make his attempts to begin an argument between them difficult.
Ahead of them, the fog began to thin out. Andreas held an arm out to stop Marquis stumbling out and revealing himself to the other players.
"What's going on?" Marquis whispered.
"Not sure. But we can't keep going, they'll see us."
They might have to abandon these two and find someone else to fuck with. They couldn't hide to follow, and their relationship seemed too strong. Stronger than the connection Andreas had with Marquis.
"Come on," he muttered, turning away into the fog. Marquis hesitated. "But we're evenly matched; we could–"
"You want to take that chance?" Andreas asked, though he did finger his bladed fans.
"We could take them–"
"Better this way. Come on."
There would be other players, other alliances, easier to break apart than those two. They could find someone weaker to take out first. These two would see them trying to cross the canyon and could all too easily target them while they were vulnerable.
"We haven't seen anyone but them," Marquis pointed out.
Andreas groaned. "Look. If you really want to keep going after them, we can." He dangled the possibility in front of him on a string, tantalising bait. "But they clearly work well together. It'll be hard to rip them apart, and we don't know how well they fight as a team. If this really is real, and players are dying when they lose, do you really want to risk starting a fight with two players that might be able to match us, even if one is low on armour?"
Marquis squinted through the fog in the direction the two had gone and at last shook his head. "I don't really want to kill anyone. But it's how the Hunger Games are won."
"Exactly," said Andreas.
Marquis sighed heavily. "I suppose there'll be other opportunities."
Andreas grinned. Perfect.
"Of course there will. Come on. If we're really lucky we might find someone before nightfall."
In this fog it would be a miracle, but the thought sweetened the deal enough for Marquis to nod. "Alright. Let's get going."
Andreas guided him back into the fog, listening intently for any voices around them.
Forty eight of them had entered this arena.
They ought to be able to find someone else, anyone else, soon enough.
Zephyr Almon, 13
They didn't know any of these people.
They could be waiting for the moment they could stab them in the back.
They could be leading them into a trap.
They could be taking them somewhere quiet so they could cut them to pieces.
And yet here they were. Allies.
Celeste, of course, was still being Celeste, despite the fact Zephyr really needed her not to be so that they could keep their miracle allies.
"She always like this?" Calpurnia, the platinum blonde girl with the very sharp sword, asked.
"Unfortunately," Zephyr replied.
Sorcha, the girl with the yellow hair, made a sound of annoyance. "And we're all following her why?"
Because Celeste knew things.
Because Celeste was always right.
Because Celeste might be the only person in this gods forsaken arena that could save them all.
Zephyr said none of those things. Instead. "I'm following her because she's my sister. You don't have to."
"Great!" Sorcha turned away. "Let's go. Luminita, come on. You too, Calpurnia, Marcellina. In fact, Silverie and Emeria are welcome too. Everyone except the freak and her babysitter."
Celeste froze.
Zephyr saw her tense.
Her pale eyes hardened like stone.
She turned, slowly, and looked up at Sorcha. "I'm not a freak."
She said it slowly and carefully, articulating each word.
"You act like a freak, you talk like a freak, you even look like a freak with that hairstyle."
Celeste balled her fists. "You should shut your mouth, Yellow Bird. Someone might fire an arrow through it."
"Oh, and now the freak's threatening me. Oh, I'm so scared." Sorcha rolled her eyes. "Girls, let's go."
Luminita crossed her arms. "No, Sorcha."
"What?"
"I said no. I'm done listening to you. I should have listened to Celeste to begin with."
Well, at least she admitted it. Most would never even do that. They acted like Celeste was personally responsible for the fortunes she told, which was unfair. No one blamed a reader for reading the words in a book.
"You–"
"I'm staying with Celeste and Zephyr."
Sorcha looked at the other two girls. "Calpurnia? Marcellina?"
"I think–" started Marcellina, before nodding. "I think I'm with Celeste. If we can fix this without killing anyone… That's best, right?"
"I'm not sure about that, but I'm not leaving Marcellina," Calpurnia said.
Sorcha's face scrunched with dark anger, and for a moment Zephyr feared she might launch herself at Celeste, but then it went and she turned away. "Fine. Have it your way."
Ares Gilmore, 15
Having Wonder with them was a relief. For all that Iridescence was company, that was all she was. Her physical condition made her little use should a physical fight arise, and Ares was glad not to have all the responsibility for that on his shoulders alone now.
"I think there's parts of all three Quell arenas," she explained, waving an arm at some distant part of the arena. "Along with a few other gimmicks, like the trains."
"You've seen a lot more of it than we have," Ares admitted. They'd kept moving as much as they could, but Iridescence was struggling so much.
"It's… interesting." Wonder shrugged. "Or it would be, you know, if it wasn't trying to kill us."
"Yeah," Ares agreed, glancing about the brightly coloured trees of the poison meadow. "That does improve most places."
Even Iridescence managed a laugh at that, though the laughter drove her into a coughing fit that led to her doubling over and needing to sit down.
"It's pretty," she said once the coughing had finished.
"It is pretty," Ares agreed.
"Seventy Fifth's not pretty," Wonder muttered. "Nothing but fog and misery."
"Well, I don't really care what we're leaving into, but we have to get out of this eventually." Ares waved a hand at the bright trees. "We're going to need more water and food."
"Keep telling you not to waste any on me," said Iridescence.
"And I keep telling you I'm not going to make you starve to death. Or dehydrate."
"I'm a waste of supplies."
"Not to me," Ares said firmly.
"What does it matter? Only one of us can win in the end. And I'm only dragging you down with me."
"Look, I just don't want to be responsible for your death, okay? I'll dump you off with your brothers, and then you can be their problem to– to kill, or leave for dead, or whatever, but I don't want that on my conscience!"
"Then we better find some other players soon," Iridescence said, looking at their little camp. "Because there's nothing in this part of the arena that we can eat or drink, and we're going to run out of supplies."