Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games
Chapter 16: Boom!
Blaine's POV
And then there were nine. This morning the boy from District 10 was killed by the Careers. The Capitol found this amusing in the boys' district, him being tenth place in the games. Miya was crying hysterically in my arms as I held her. Watching the youngest victor cry over her tribute for the first time was painful. Though, not many victors weep over the dead. We just suck it up and prepared to face our district. Followed by giving our condolences to the tributes' families.
"It's my fault," Miya cried. "I should have sent him a weapon."
"Miya, there was nothing you could have done," I said, tucking a strand of hair out of her face.
"How do you do it?" she asked. "How can you act like this is nothing?"
I bit my tongue, unsure what to say to the cowgirl. If I told her what I felt, I would be considered a heartless woman who lacks empathy. Sooner or later, the girl will have to learn the responsibilities of this life. That showing emotion was a sign of weakness to the Capitol. Sure, a few outbreaks of punching or cursing out may occur. But shedding tears was vulnerability.
"Growing tougher skin," I murmured.
Colton made his way over to us. He was quiet, staring at the distressed girl. He has been a mentor for the last five years. Basically, took over the mentor position after winning his game. His dark eyes stared at us, though he frowned. I help Colton when teaching Miya about being a mentor. This was her first year since Abby Mare took a break from mentoring this year. I might have a word with her to come back to mentoring for Miya's sake. Miya is not ready to be a mentor.
I adjusted Miya so I could stare into her eyes.
"Listen, you need to be strong," I said. "This is the third stage of being a mentor: Facing the aftermath of your district and the family. You must keep telling yourself that you tried to provide for them. You did your best and never stopped. I know it's scary, but you must ignore their harsh comments and grow some tough skin. Now here," pulling out a paper and pen from my purse and writing down my number at District 12. "Call me, call me for any reason, whatever may it be? You are not alone, and we victors help one another. Now, Colton is going to show you how to do the paperwork. You'll be leaving tomorrow."
Miya took several deep breaths.
"It'll be alright," I assured her. "You're safe."
Miya nodded, wiping the heavy tears off her face. "Okay."
I sighed, kissed her cheek, and led her toward Colton.
Colton came over, placing a hand on Miya's shoulder before looking at me, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I replied back. "Take care of her."
Colton nodded as he led Miya out.
Once they were gone, I sighed. This was a first for me to comfort a young victor. The last was Johanna. She didn't need comfort, just a laugh. Most victors who win their games are sixteen years or older. The youngest was Finnick, at the age of fourteen. Miya won at thirteen, only because her district partner didn't want her to die. A Cowgirl with luck. That is what she's known for. A Lucky Cowgirl.
I needed to talk to somebody to solve my issue or have a decent conversation. Haymitch was conversing with Chaff, and Seeder was nowhere to be found. I hardly associate with Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Enobaria on this matter. Unless it was Lyme. I looked around to see Porter Millicent Tripp was now talking to a sponsor. She is a District 5 Mentor, winning the 38th Hunger Games. Elec, the male mentor, was nowhere to be found.
Then I thought about a set of mentors I could easily talk to. As I spotted Beetee and Wiress. They were brilliant, that brains can be intimidating, yet can hold an interesting conversation. So, do I suck it up and talk to the Career Victors or mentally challenge my brain?
Nuts and Volts it is, then. I thought.
I walked around the sitting room searching for Beetee and Wiress. Knowing the District 3 victors since I was ten, I knew they were in a low-key area. In other words, they would be in a corner working on some invention. It wasn't difficult to find the two inventors, for the majority of the physical traits in District 3 citizens were known for; ashen skin and black hair. Although, Beetee breaks the norms as he has dark skin. Wiress used to have dark hair until the Capitol changed it.
It is funny how district citizens have their characteristics on traits? As the majority of the districts have a specific attribute. District 3 had ashen skin, District 4 had tan skin and sea-colored eyes, and District 11 had dark skin and hair. And so on and so forth. District 12 had two sets. Those from the markets have blue eyes, fair skin, and blonde hair, while those from the Seams have olive skin, gray eyes, and black hair. Unless you are a mutt, a mix between both factions. These were the most common physical traits identified by their citizens' nationality. But it doesn't define the population.
"Hello, Beetee, Wiress," I greeted, making the two stop their tinkering.
Although these two have a nickname of Nuts and Volts. It was a nickname Johanna gave them when she started becoming a mentor. They are well respected amongst the victors and the Capitol. Couldn't blame them for their high intelligence in technology they were. Beetee told me when in third grade, they learned how to manipulate voices in footage recording. Unlike District 12, where you have to learn how to read, write, and count, most importantly, the history and sciences on earth. Get to know your coal and sulfur rather than physics. Shame, isn't it? Also, I have a sophomore education compared to many of the victors who passed high school. Finnick was just a freshman when he won, and his grade point average was similar to mine.
"Whatchya doin'?" I sang.
"Working on our…." Wiress started, then stopped.
"On our invention," Beetee finished.
It was sad for Wiress with her condition from the trauma of her games. Annie goes insane, and Wiress seldom incompletes sentences that Beetee has to finish. Many people thought District 3 won't succeed in the arena, making them the lowest bidders on sponsors. But in Beetee's game, he obtained electronic supplies from the Cornucopia. He crafted an electrical trap that killed off all the remaining tributes. I've seen the footage, and it was not a pleasant sight.
Wiress had won from a technical trap. She collected a coil of wires. In the beginning she slit some tributes' throats in their sleep. But later, she dug out some mines from the Cornucopia and placed them around the tall grass plains. A career spotted her and accidentally stepped on a mine, and the sound wave and blast smacked Wiress in the head with a rock. Therefore, the incomplete sentences and dozing off.
"And what would that be?" I asked, taking a seat next to Beetee.
Wiress showed me the blueprints of her new device that would be used for sewing and stitching. "It senses the density of the fabric and selects the strength…."
"The strength of the thread," Beetee finished his companion's explanation. "Automatically. It rules out human error."
"And yours?" I asked.
Beetee holds a small chip, "I need a test subject."
Oh great, I just waltzed myself into this mess... again. I sighed and let Beetee put the chip on my ear. I gulped as he asked me to carefully press it. I did. There was nothing for a moment till I heard classical jazz music. The scientist tells me this was a prototype of a musical chip that could be concealed in a smaller mass but could last for hours of songs.
"I just needed to work on the volume of the chip. Make it smaller than a dime." Beetee said.
Suddenly the chip volume increased to high frequencies, that I yelped, yanking that thing out of my ear. I rubbed my abused ear and handed the device back to its owner. Next, I snapped my finger next to my ear to see if my hearing was acute. It was, and I sighed in relief. I better leave before I lose an appendage.
"How's Hacker doing?" I asked.
"He's doing well," Wiress managed to answer. "He's creating a chip that connects to…."
"A bionic device to help the blind," Beetee answered.
"Really?" I asked, impressed.
"Yes, in theory, those who lost their eyes. Since not all districts can afford organ transplants, this device might help. If he doesn't blow up his lab again." Beetee answered, shaking his head.
Wiress giggled from that.
I couldn't help but chuckle since Hacker tends to blow up his lab.
.o0o.
Katniss was the complete stubborn idiot I had ever met. If I had to compare her to anybody, she was Haymitch! I watched the Girl on Fire with Haymitch and Cinna in a private room. When suspense of a new plan, mentors are supposed to keep in a designated space to prevent an outbreak if somebody gets killed. This constantly happens when underdogs kill a Career.
Haymitch told him that the previous Head Maker, Nero Tsar, had to separate Haymitch from Cashmere and Gloss. As Cashmere tried every opportunity to attack Haymitch during my game.
When Katniss started having this plan, Seneca advised all Mentors to go to their private rooms.
Katniss, on the other hand, was complete suicide.
Want to know why? Well, with District 3 tribute, Tron, the careers defenses on supplies changed. Back at the Cornucopia, the supplies were up in a pyramid and surrounded by land mines. Tron took Wiress's advice in using the technology of explosives in the game. You must have a keen mind and memory to know where the bombs were located.
I sighed and took a sip of water. First, Peeta is dying from blood poisoning. Now Katniss is going to blow herself up! What's next? A mutt in the shape of a pig with wings will fly? I hope not because that is just plain wrong right there.
Katniss hid behind the tree line watching the Careers while observing her surroundings. She seemed to question how the supplies were in that position and the Careers were far away. When Cato started talking, the cameras focused on him as he pointed to the sky. Where black smoke filled the forest top. The one which Rue created as a distraction. They began to arm themselves immediately. Until an argument broke out. Cato argues with Marvel and Clove that they should bring Tron into the hunt after the smoke.
"He's coming. We need him in the woods. His job's done here anyway. No one can touch those supplies," Cato said.
"What about lover boy?" Marvel asked.
"I keep telling you, forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet. At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us." Cato assured. Then thrust a spear into Tron's hand. "Come on!"
Wow, talk about an impatient person, I thought.
Cato stiffened when Clove asked him about Katniss. "When I find her, I kill her in my own way, and no one interferes."
Marvel smirked while Clove shrugged, disappointed she won't have her game with Fire girl. She complained after the bloodbath about how she had gotten away. The screen change goes to Claudius and Caesar discussing the situation that is going to happen.
"She's crazy," I growled.
"What makes you say that?" Haymitch sarcastically asked.
"Don't toy with me, dad," I spat. "She's stupid that she might waltz right in and get blown up!"
"You have no faith in her," Cinna noted.
I snorted. "Faith is a word. Nothing comes when going to the Cornucopia on supplies. Not even the feast can resolve the death toll. The Cornucopia is dead man's land. If you're lucky to succeed in getting anything… what you have is what you get."
When I got something from the Cornucopia, it was a small pack with climbing gear, limited supplies, and a full canteen. There was no time to get a weapon or essential supplies. I had to rely on my surroundings, eating snow and gnawing on edible roots until Haymitch sent in gifts.
Anyway, back to the screen.
Katniss analyzed the situation and wondered what was out of place. That was when Jacqueline came into the picture after the Careers left. She ran towards the pyramid with quick, small steps. Practically prancing around the turned soil of the plates. It was almost unbelievable how she cautiously danced about toward the supplies while jogging through them quickly. She must have a remarkable memory of knowing the locations of the mines.
Jacqueline seemed intelligent from the last time I saw her in person. If you gave her an exam, she could get a hundred and ten within minutes. A sly, elusive player in the game. Until she tripped over and squealed sharply. Luckily, she didn't detonate a mine as she got up, grabbed a pack of supplies that she could carry, and took off.
The expression on Katniss's face was priceless to realize what Tron did to the Cornucopia. She thought about her situation carefully since she couldn't stroll in and destroy the supplies. Then she got into position and steadied her bow. Katniss knocked an arrow and fired at the pyramid, targeting a sack of apples.
My heart beat rapidly, feeling adrenaline coursing through my veins as I grabbed the closest source. She misses, but her second arrow strikes an apple causing a dozen to fall. Then nothing, nothing happens for a moment. Until-
BOOM!
.o0o.
"I can't believe that actually worked!" Haymitch said, taking a swig of his flask. "And you doubted her for a second."
I hissed at him and glared out the window of the penthouse at the Training Center. I was absolutely frustrated, if not tired, when dealing with Katniss's sponsors. The old drunk was too lazy to deal with them. I sighed and rested my head on the cold glass. So much has happened under that one explosion. An apple with an arrow, who would have thought a repeat of attention would come again.
First, the apple from the pig during the private session, and now the apple from the supplies! Couldn't throw a simple rock or something instead of wasting her weapons. No matter, if Katniss loses the artillery, then we'll send her more. Arrows are cheaper compared to a golden trident or silver sword.
However, somebody had to face the consequences. And the person who had to face the Careers was Tron. The poor District 3 boy did his best to cooperate with the Careers and stay out of their rage of blood lust. But Cato was no exception. After finishing his tantrum, Cato grabbed Tron by the neck and snapped it. Sharply jerking the boy's head to the side in a military stander.
The red Avox came by and handed me a beverage. I nodded my head in gratitude and took a big gulp. The alcohol burned my tongue, but the taste sustained the sensation. Now all the good victors are gone, and I'm stuck with the Career Victors, Porter, Elec, Seeder, and Chaff. Well, at least Seeder and Chaff are here to wallow in this messed-up game.
We were now in the final eight. Usually, alliances end here. As a third of the tributes remain. Any friendships are over now. The thought saddens me as I think about Michael. How our alliance ended at the final eight.
Midnight walked up and surveyed around my legs. Leaning against the lace nylon and purring for attention. I gently kicked him off me, not in a good mood at the moment. He sighed and walked back into the bedroom to take a nap. I groaned; it indeed wasn't my game this year. My tribute is dying, and I'm stuck helping Haymitch with Katniss. The damn girl had to get herself blown up and have the Careers on her trail. She better not play sloppily. Otherwise, it's hello to death.
"Blaine, are you listening?" Haymitch asked.
"Yeah, I'm listening, you old fart," I replied, taking another sip of rum coke. "So, what now?"
"We wait until sleeping beauty wakes up." He answered.
I scoffed, "That's what she's practically doing. Sleeping around and causing trouble."
"I sense you don't like Katniss," Haymitch stated.
I barked out a laugh, "Not what you think."
"Then what is it that makes you so negative towards her?"
I stared out the window, looking into my reflection and imagining Katniss next to me. Comparing her to my sixteen-year-old self five years ago? What purpose is getting me so ticked by her? I sighed and rubbed my temple.
"She reminds me of me," I said. "And I damn hope she doesn't experience the pain I felt in the arena. The one you and I experienced."
I hope the alliance breaks up between the two girls. When it comes to the final eight, the arena doesn't become a game. It becomes a battlefield. An all-out war!
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