Mikaela Fredrickson

District 6 Female Tribute

It was a first in Hunger Games history: a younger sibling volunteering for an older one. But Mikaela couldn't allow Ashley to be reaped. Ashley was the breadwinner. There was no one else to feed them. It would be hard enough to survive her absence for a month, and if she died in the arena, they'd have no choice but to go to a Community Home.

Being sent to a home in Six meant gang affiliation. All the community homes in Lower were run by the gangs. It wasn't hard to find gang violence in Lower. Being sent to the homes was unacceptable.

Mikaela volunteered to protect her family, and she regretted it immediately. Regret was the wrong word. She'd do it again if she had to, but she peed herself a bit when Edgar Wilbur's name came out of the reaping bowl.

Mikaela's family lived in the 800 blocks, in the heart of Crimsons territory. Edgar Wilbur was one of the worst enforcers the gang had. Mikaela had seen him beat addicts and factory workers who couldn't pay.

He wasn't the worst Crimsons enforcer, but Mikaela couldn't relax around him.

It got worse when she remembered who'd be mentoring them. Out of Six's four Victors, three of them survived. Only one was fit to mentor. Jeeper Ford and Opal Granger were morphling addicts. The Capital declared them unfit to mentor, leaving Six's newest Victor: Tamora Tesla.

Tamora worked for Murk as an enforcer before they fell to the Rusters. The Rusters put out a hit against Virgina, and nowhere was safe in Lower for her. She couldn't go to Upper, so she volunteered for the Hunger Games. No one expected her to come back alive, but she did.

Edgar was like Tamora. They were both affiliated with gangs. It gave them the skills they needed to survive in the arena. Mikaela had no such skills. She was afraid Virgina would pick Edgar over her.

Tamora turned out to be kind. She offered Mikaela a shoulder to cry on. She promised to do everything she could to bring Mikaela home. But she'd fight just as hard for Edgar.

It was nice having someone to lean on. Edgar never seemed to see her. She was beneath his notice.

That was until the parade. Something happened to Edgar that changed him. Mikaela couldn't figure it out. He tripped on the stupid train costume, but Edgard didn't hit his head.

Mikaela snuck glances at him as they rode on the chariots, but Edgar didn't look at her. Not even once. His eyes were fixed in front of him.

When he jumped on the elevator with the girl from Five, she had her suspicions. When Mikaela got to the fifth floor and found Edgar talking about Five's female tribute ("Her name is Joy!"), Mikaela had her answer.

Edgar was like a different person. She saw him smile for the first time. He started talking to her.

Edgar was a gang enforcer. That gave him status and money. He could have his pick of any girl in Lower, but Mikaela had never seen him with a girl on his arm. Was love at first sight real?

"It's time to go, children!" their bubbly escort called. He was a fat man that reminded Mikaela of a certain peacekeeper. That peacekeeper had a habit of selling morphling for sexual favors. Mikaela didn't like him.

"Come on," Edgar said. Their escort always stood by her, but Edgar put himself between them this time.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No problem."

The elevator doors open into an enormous gymnasium filled with various weapons and obstacle courses. They were the last ones to arrive. The other tributes were gathered in a tense circle. They each have a cloth square with their district number on it pinned to their shirts. Mikaela scanned the gym while they pinned a number 6 on her back. Everything was foreign to her.

"Come on," Edgar said under his breath. With nothing else to do, she followed him. He walked right up to Joy like he was a puppy.

As soon as they joined the circle, the head trainer, a tall, athletic woman named Atala, stepped up. She began to explain the training schedule. Experts in each skill will remain at their stations. They will be free to travel from area to area as they choose. Some of the stations teach survival skills, others fighting techniques. They are forbidden to engage in any combative exercise with another tribute. There are assistants on hand if we want to practice with a partner.

When Atala begins to read down the list of the skill stations, Mikaela felt a sense of dread come over her. She was out of her debts. District 6 was an urban sprawl. The only plants she ever saw were the weeds coming through the pavement.

When Atala released them, Edgar turned right to Joy. "Hello, again."

Despite being an enemy, she returned his smile. "Hello, Edgar. Were you able to sleep?"

Did Edgar have problems sleeping?

He nodded.

"I'm glad."

Standing next to Joy was a boy her age. Mikaela remembered him from the parada. He was the electric boy.

He offered her a small smile. "Hello."

Mikaela returned him. "Hi."

"I'm Dean Alba. And you?"

"Mikaela."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you."

Joy was looking back and forth between her and Dean. "Who is this?"

"Mikaela is my district partner. We're from the same part of Six."

They might both be from the 800 blocks. But they live a world apart.

"Oh. I'm sorry. It must be hard coming here with someone you know."

"We didn't know each other very well," Mikaela said. "I saw him around sometimes."

"So where do you want to head to first, alley?" Edgar asked.

Allies? They were allies? Since when?

Joy looked at her. "What about Mikaela?"

Edgar looked down at her. "I was hoping she could join us."

Joy's face lit up. "Yeah, that's fine!"

And like that, she was part of an alliance. Her prospects were looking up. Mikaela was in a much better place than she had been this morning.

"District 5 is urban, isn't it?" Mikael asked. If she was part of this alliance, then she wanted to contribute.

Dean nodded.

"Then it's like District 6. Should we go to the Edible Plant Station? And Edible Insect Station."

There was only one problem. There was no Edible Insect Station. Tamora said that was one of the most important stations when she was a tribute.

When she asked, an instructor informed them the station wasn't available this year. "That means there'll be no edible insects in the arena. If you see any, don't eat them."

"Edible Plants?" Edgar asked.

Joy nodded. "Lead the way."

There was a surprisingly small selection of choices. The station only had berries and nuts. Blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, salmonberries, cranberries, elderberries, and strawberries were the only edible ones. There were poisonous berries that resembled some of them, but the instructors showed them how to tell them apart.

The number of nuts was similarly short. There were poisonous ones mixed in.

"This is a first for me," the instructor told them. "I can't tell what kind of environment you're going into it, but I don't think it will be natural. I'd suggest not eating any plant that isn't covered here."

He didn't have to tell Mikaela twice. She had watched the games for as long as she could remember. She had seen so many tributes die from eating the wrong plants.

Mikaela left Edgar to Joy and struck up a conversation with Dean. He took two long sticks from the station and held them to his head. "Look! I'm a deer!"

Mikaela never saw a deer in person, but they were a staple in the wild arenas. He looked so stupid she couldn't help laughing.

"Don't be an idiot! Pay attention. What are we going to do if you eat the wrong berry?"

Dean thought about it. "Tell my family I was an idiot until the very end."

Mikaela would fight. She refused to be prey, but she doubted she was coming back. It was hard to picture herself on the Victory Tour. Dean would have to tell his family himself. Or maybe Edgar could pass the message along.

What was she supposed to say to that? Win, and tell them yourself? That would mean her death. If anyone else won the Hunger Games, it meant her death.

They might be allies for now, but when push came to shove, it was every tribute for themselves.

That was how the games divided them. It was how the Capitol played them against each other. That's what Ashley always said.

After they finished his lecture, he presented them with a test. Edgar and Mikaela passed the first time, but Dean and Joy had to take it twice.

The underfeed tributes from Twelve were making their way over. Edgar decided it was time to leave. The careers had finished with the knife station, so he suggested they head there next.

Chamomile Harney

District 11 Female Tribute

"Don't follow me," Thatcher Foley grunted at her as he disappeared. Chaff and Seeder had ordered them to eat lunch together, but that was as far as Chamomile was willing to go.

She HATED Thatcher Foley. And it wasn't on account of his skin color. In District 11, most of the people were dark-skinned. It ranged from light to dark, but they were one.

The River People were all light-skinned. Before the districts were locked down in the Dark Days, the river people were travelers. They were unlucky in getting trapped in Eleven, but they found a place growing fruits in the river. Hence their name.

Eleven welcomed them with open arms. They were subjected to the peacekeeper's bullets the same way as the rest of the district.

Thatcher was a monster. He was a condemned rapist and murderer. He was built like an ox, and that gave him power. Then, the peacekeepers arrested him. He raped four girls before they finally got him. The peacekeepers only acted when he attacked the mayor's daughter.

Thatcher wasn't executed, something the mayor had the power to do. For months, he lingered in the stockade. Everyone waited for his public execution, but it never came.

Then Thatcher Foley got reaped. Chamomile knew the mayor rigged it. It was too perfect. The mayor had the right connections, and it sent an even better message than execution.

Of course, she got reaped with him. If anyone deserved to be here, it was Thatcher Foley.

The big brute pushed the underfeed boy from Twelve out of the way as he marched over to Edible Plants.

Chamomile put him out of her mind. Now wasn't the time to dwell on Foley. She had other problems. Well, one big problem: she was alone.

District 11's escort was a hardcore Hunger Games buff. He owned copies of every single game that wasn't a Lost Year. Lost Years were games the Capitol erased all records of, except for the Seed Copy in the Archives below the Presidential Palace. The Tenth and the Twenty-Eighth Hunger Games were the Lost Games.

The lost games shouldn't be confused with games restricted to the Capitol. Hunger Games that showed tributes outsmarting the system, like the Second Quarter Quell.

Eleven's escort let her watch his copies. Chamomile hated the games, but she wanted to live. She was going to come out of this alive. So, those games became her homework. She studied them whenever she had free time.

Chamomile came to one conclusion through watching them: most Victors had at least one alley. Sure, some went in alone, but the majority were allies.

Chamomile didn't want to team up with someone she might have to kill, but it increased her odds. She set out to find allies. She spent the first half of the day examining each tribute carefully.

She ruled the careers out at once. Even in her situation, she couldn't bring herself to get in bed with them, even if they'd even take her.

Chamomile considered the Five and Six, who seemed to have allied. They were viable, but half of the four were thirteen. They'd be dead weight. They were a lost resort option.

Then there was the pair from Ten, but the boy didn't want to ally with anyone from the other districts. Chamomile overheard the conversation the boy had with the girl from Nine. He rejected her outright.

From overhearing that conversation, Chamomile learned that Seven and Nine had formed an alliance. They wanted to protect themselves from the careers. Who they claimed always went after Seven, Nine, and Ten.

Chamomile had watched dozens of Hunger Games. And that became a pattern that stood out to her. Seven, Nine, and Ten always got targeted. Maybe there was bad blood between the career Victors and those three districts.

No matter what the case, that seemed like her best option. She set out to worm her way into the alliance.

Chamomile had a way of reading people. She was people-savvy, so to speak. And she could manipulate a boy. She didn't like doing those kinds of things, but this was the Hunger Games. She wanted to survive.

Chamomile cornered the boy from Nine when he was alone. Bryce Lock was the young brother of Ceres Lock. It had been a long time since siblings had been reaped together, but this unlucky year they were.

Ceres had become the leader of the alliance, but she was smart and sharp. Chamomile didn't know if she could charm Ceres, so she focused on his brother. From observing the two, it became clear that Ceres cared for Bryce. If Bryce vouched for her, then Ceres would oblige.

"Hiya, handsome," she said in her best seductive voice.

Bryce had a sickle in his hand. It seemed like an extension of his arm. More than half the time, Nine knew how to handle sickles. It was part of their district industry. Ceres was better at it, but Bryce was no slouch.

"Are you talking to me?"

He was too years younger than her, and she could tell he had no experience with women. That was perfect for her.

"I don't see anyone else, big guy." He wasn't as big as Thatcher or the boy from Two, but he had muscles. That's what you get from working out in the fields every day.

Chamomile ran her hand down his arm. "I don't see anyone else around."

Bryce blushed. That was good.

"Um... What are you doing?"

"I wanted to touch your muscles. I hope you don't mind."

"No. Not at all."

Chamomile made a quick sweep of the gymnasium. Ceres was distracted by the pair from Seven. The last thing Chamomile needed was Bryce's big sister coming to the rescue.

"Can you use that thing?" Chamomile nodded at the sickle.

"You want to see?"

"I'd love to."

It was like an extension of his arm. How long had Bryce been swinging it? Years. Maybe Nine threw their children into the industry as Eleven did: as young as possible.

She watched for a few minutes, pretending it was the most interesting thing in the world. It was cool, but there were a dozen other things she'd rather be doing.

"That was impressive, Nine. Do you think you can survive out in the wild?"

Nine was a rural district similar to Eleven. They had a better chance than tributes from Three or Eight.

"Not unless the arena is a grain field."

"You never know."

"True," he admitted. "But I wouldn't bet on it. I don't think the odds would be in my favor."

"Probably not. Why don't we go investigate the edible plants section?"

Wrapping the boy around her figure was easy. It made Chamomile feel dirty, but everything was permitted in the Hunger Games.

By the end of training, Chamomile wormed her way into the alliance. The tributes from Seven and Nine were strong. They might have a chance at winning together. It was a better deal than heading into the arena with Thatcher.

There was a saying in District Eleven: Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Thatcher was on the elevator she caught.

Damn it.

The big boy eyed her like a meal. Thatcher smirked when the elevator doors closed. "Found yourself some new meat, didn't you? If you want a fuck, just say so."

"Has any girl wanted to fuck you? Or do you push them down?"

His face spasmed. "I don't know what you're talking about, little bitch."

"How old is the mayor's youngest girl? Eleven? Twelve? I heard you like them young. Are you sure you can get it up for me? I think I'm too old."

Thatcher punched the side of the elevator. "I'd watch how you talk to me, bitch. There's no one around to help you."

Chamomile wasn't worried. "Do you know it's illegal to assault a tribute before we're in the arena? If you lay a hand on me, a cohort of peacekeepers will drag your ass to some torture chamber."

The last part was a lie. Thatcher was a tribute, so he'd be protected before the game. But they'd watch him closely. And Chamomile doubted a tribute who broke the rules before the game would be allowed to win.

"In the arena, anything goes. I'd still watch how you talk to me if I was you. You don't want me to lose my temper."

"Did you lose your temper at the mayor's daughter? Maybe work on that. It got you a ticket here, didn't it?"

"You don't know anything," Thatcher hissed.

"The Capitol rigs the reaping. Not everything, but it happens. Look at the Victor's kids. Too many go in. I'm sure someone arranged for your name."

The smugness and anger disappeared, leaving his face blank. "I'm going to kill you in the arena."

"You're going to try."

Laverna Reyes

District 4 Female Tribute

She hit the button for the rough. Brutus assured her it wasn't against the rules for a tribute to see the roof, but she never heard anything about this in the Insitute.

"It's not something that would come up in the academy, but all the Victors know about it. You can even catch the drunks from Five and Twelve up there."

"You hang out with drunks?"

"Haymitch isn't so bad when he's sober."

Laverna grew up seeing Haymitch Abernathy on TV. "Is he ever sober?"

Brutus laughed. "No."

As Laverna stepped into the cool, windy evening air, she caught her breath at the view. The Capitol twinkled like a blazing field. It was so different than the Institute, tucked away high in the mountains.

Laverna walked to the edge of the roof. She looked straight down the side of the building to the street, which was buzzing with people. You can hear their cars, an occasional shout, and a strange metallic tinkling. At this time of night, everyone would be asleep in the Institute if you were lucky enough to avoid night training.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Catalina Grey walked out of the shadow.

"I didn't know if you'd show up."

"You asked me to come here."

She did, and it wasn't just to talk strategy. Laverna had been captivated by Catalina since she watched the reapings. The girl smiled at your face, but the look in her eyes said you were dirt on her shoes.

It was an act that she cultivated at Four's academy. Laverna would know. She was trained the same way, though her act was bloodthirst.

"It's cold up here, Two. What is this about?"

That was cold of her. Catalina had dropped her act. Maybe Laverna spent too long looking at her beautiful face.

"I want you to be my lover."

Catalina Grey's blue eyes bore into her. The way the wind swept her blonde hair was charming.

"I'm sorry, but I don't swing that way."

"I didn't ask what way you swung," Laverna said, maybe a little too fast.

Catalina crossed her arms. "Even if I did, this is the Hunger Games. I'm not looking for someone to date."

"Neither am I," Laverna lied. "You've had the same media training as I have. The audience eats romance up. Sponsors send romantics gifts. We don't have to like each other, but playing romantic lovers will earn us some points."

Laverna was afraid that Catalina would reject her out-of-pocket. Maybe Catalina wanted to play the games in the traditional role for an alliance tribute.

But Catalina didn't say anything.

Laverna pointed over her shoulder. "There's a camera right there. It's too windy to pick up audio, but it's recording us live."

Catalina's blue eyes flickered over to the camera. Laverna wished she could read her mind. What was going on behind those icy blue eyes?

Catalina grabbed the back of her head. Before Laverna could do anything, their lips pressed together.

That was a shock but not an unwelcome one. Catalina lingered for a few blissful seconds before pulling away. "Is that good?"

Laverna tried to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. "That was great."

Catalina put on a stupid smile, but Laverna watched her eyes. There was no joy in them. This was just part of the show.

She didn't expect it to hurt so much.

Then Laverna heard cheering erupting from the streets below. She took a step back and leaned over the railing.

"By the mountains."

The kiss Catalina gave her was playing on the screens. It was replayed over and over again.

They hadn't even kissed ten seconds ago, and it was already on screen? The Capitol worked quickly. Laverna was impressed.

Catalina joined her. "Was there really a camera there?"

She nodded.

"I didn't believe you. I thought you were pressing your point."

Laverna couldn't believe the kiss got broadcast so quickly. The techs must have rushed it through. It was true there wasn't much to show during the training, but was the kiss so important?

"I was wrong."

That came out of nowhere. "About what?"

"I didn't think it would be a good idea. I was going to tell you no."

After the kiss?

"But look at them."

The crowds were cheering. The kiss was an exciting development. Love blossoming among the tributes always was. It made it more tragic when they had to kill each other.

There was no love lost between them. Catalina would put a knife in her when it came down to it. Laverna wasn't delusional enough to think otherwise. It would be nice to pretend until the end.

"What do you, partner? How do you want to play?" Catalina asked.

Laverna's heart betrayed her. If only Catalina had been born in Two. Laverna loved the mountains, but if it meant getting close to Catalina, she could learn to love the sea.

"I think we should stick together. Let the cameras and gamemakers see us as a team. If your district partner doesn't mind?"

"Aqua?" Catalina snorted. "Aqua doesn't care. That won't be a problem."

"Then we are thick as thieves. We can play on how we're going to kill Lustrous."

"He is a problem," Catalina agreed.

"We can talk about Aqua's nice ass?"

"Let's not talk about Aqua."

"What's wrong with Aqua?"

"There's something off about him. I can't put my finger on it."

Laverna recalled the day. She couldn't remember Aqua standing out. He was with them the whole day. He seemed pretty average.

He was playing a part, but they were all acting.

"He's dangerous."

"What do you mean?"

She hesitated. "Do you remember 65?"

"The Hunger Games? That was the year Finnick won."

"Right. At the age of fourteen, he volunteered. The instructors at the Conservatory wanted him to wait. Fourteen was too young. His skills surpassed every boy older than him, but they had tribute candidates that could win. Finnick should wait until he's older.

"But he didn't. No one knew it, but he was always the One to Beat. I think Aqua might be the One to Beat."

"You don't think that's Lustrous? I've seen him trained. One is dangerous. He's deadlier than the pretty little thing trying to grind herself into Quirinus."

Before they started training, Laverna would've bet Quirinus was the strongest. But Lustrous outshone him. She didn't think any of them could take him down alone. When the pack shattered, Laverna was glad Amethyst wouldn't fight with him.

"There's something about Aqua."

"Lustrous and Aqua are the targets when the pack breaks. Quirinus will fight with us."

"Then we keep the act up."

Catalina put her arm around Laverna. "I'll talk to Finnick about this tomorrow."

"I have to tell Brutus. I don't think he'll be too angry."

If she wanted to break the alliance, that would be one thing.

Haymitch Abernathy

Victor of the 50th Hunger Games

He didn't have much hope this year. Haymitch didn't have a lot of hope most years. When was the last time he had a fighter come with him? The big boy from the mines. He was only a few months away from turning nineteen. He had the strength to win. That was in the 66th. Tamora Telsa walked out of the arena that year.

Before that, it was the 58th, with the butcher's daughter. She might have one, but the careers got to her first.

Now and then, Haymitch got someone who looked promising. But most years, it was the sad parade of doomed tributes. The boy and the girl this time around were from the Seam. They were underfed and sure that they weren't walking out of the arena as Victors.

That was the most important quality a tribute needed.

He needed more spirits. Haymitch couldn't face the morning sober.

Before he could start drinking, the elevator doors dinged open. He was about to curse whoever it was.

Tamora Telsa stood in the doorway. She was Six's newest Victor. Haymitch met her once on the Victory Tour when she came through Twelve, but he hadn't spoken to her since.

"Abernathy. Just who I was looking for."

"Sorry, darlin', but I have to take my medication."

"Booze?"

"Self-medication."

Haymitch took another bottle from the wall when she spoke: "Beetee said this wasn't going to be easy."

"Beetee? What does he want? If he's looking for an alliance, I'd suggest Seven or Nine-"

"Be quiet for a minute," she cut him off. Tamora pulled a small metal object out of her coat. Haymitch knew it was a white noise creator. It was one of Beetee's inventions.

"It started blinking red. That means it's working."

"Isn't that a little too cloak-and-dagger? It's dangerous. You might get us both caught."

"We couldn't wait. You had to know."

"Wait, don't tell me. You're one of Plutarch's."

"So are you. That's not the point."

"Then what is the point, sweety?"

"Vice-President Summers is dead."