I do not own the Hunger Games.
Bloodbath time!
Saoirse stared at the clothes, running her fingers over the tracker in her arm.
Brown close-fitting pants and matching boots. Khaki shirt. Forest green jacket.
Somehow she couldn't bring herself to actually pick them up and start dressing. It would mean that this was It. That there was no way out now. That nobody was going to jump out and tell her this was all a big prank, that she wasn't really going into the games.
"Do you need some help, dear?"
Saoirse jumped. She had almost forgotten she wasn't alone. Venia had been waiting when she'd walked into this room. The woman's voice sounded strained as if... Saoirse turned.
Venia was crying.
"Are you...okay?" It was a stupid question. The woman turned her head as if by doing so she could pretend everything was fine, and nodded. Saoirse hesitated for a moment, then turned away and began to slowly change into her arena outfit. Her fingers shook as she fastened the shirt buttons.
"Who's with Victor?" her voice sounded horribly young and more frightened than she liked.
"Mr Bright. Half of you have your mentors, then the stylists were assigned a tribute to dress, and the rest... have a peacekeeper assisting them."
Saoirse nodded.
Someone was going to tie Victor's shoes for him. That was a good thing.
But Venia was still crying.
"I'm not going to die today." she spoke loudly, firmly and although she still sounded pathetically young, her voice didn't shake.
"I know. I was just thinking..." there was a pause. A sigh. And then "Cinna."
"Katniss Everdeen's stylist." It wasn't a question.
Venia nodded.
Saoirse walked over and hugged her. "He died, didn't he."
"He made sure we all got safely to District Thirteen. We didn't get a...warm welcome, but we were safe. After a fashion." A tear rolled down her cheek, and she brushed it away fiercely and smiled. It looked forced. "Anyway. They asked me to come back, and...here we are, and..."
"Do you like it there?"
There was a long pause. Venia drew breath and opened her mouth a couple of times as if to answer, and then stopped again. Finally, she said "No. No, we don't like it. It's quiet and dull and run like a military camp. But it's safe. We're told what to do and when to do it. And for now... we're going to stay there. Flavius and Octavia and me. Sometimes we talk about choosing a different district, but for now...home is where we're together."
Saoirse nodded. Home wasn't about things. The war had taught her that much.
She hoped one day she would feel safe again, too.
"Thirty seconds to launch"
Saoirse froze. She knew what she was supposed to do, but somehow couldn't make her feet move.
"Come along, dear." Venia walked her to the tube. She stepped inside.
"Ten seconds to launch"
Saoirse looked at her stylist. Venia was still wearing that same desperate smile. She looked as frightened as Saoirse felt.
The tube began to rise.
They were all dressed the same.
She knew they would be, but it still felt strange for everyone to look so...uniform. To her left was Brutus, the short boy who had said he was going to die; to her right Abundance was trembling and already looking around at the arena, and just beyond her was Arctic. That made her feel a bit better – she wasn't between anyone really strong, and Arctic had said he wasn't going to kill anyone.
Several spaces to the left, Victor was right next to Aspen. That was good, too.
Viola was so far away she was almost behind the cornucopia. She was hugging herself and sobbing in terror.
Saoirse couldn't see Jupiter at all.
"Welcome to the Capitol Games!" boomed a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Saoirse gasped and flinched, and then the countdown began.
Sixty seconds...fifty nine...fifty eight... That was how long she had before someone tried to kill her. Saoirse felt the panic rising, looked around as if someone would, even now, come and rescue her from this.
Nobody was coming. Okay, think, she told herself.
Fifty three...fifty two...
There was a packet of dried fruit just in front of her pedestal. She could get that.
A meter to her right was a small tin box, probably with something useful inside. That was hers too.
But what if they didn't get any sponsors?
Forty seven...forty six...
She looked up. There were backpacks near the Cornucopia. Not right in the mouth, where the weapons must be, but still a scarily long way to run.
Forty four...forty three...
Someone started shouting. The boy who'd been accompanied by peacekeepers last night, she realised. He was using terrible words, the kind that got bleeped out on TV. The kind you got sent home from school for using. Saoirse looked in the direction of the shouting.
Forty...thirty nine...
It was weirdly hazy around the boy who was shouting - as if he was standing in a mist. He was the one who'd been accompanied by peacekeepers last night, she thought, and it would be good to get away from him as soon as poss...
BOOM!
Just like that, he wasn't there any more. Saoirse gasped. Someone - several someones - screamed. Saoirse's ears were ringing. She stared at the empty pedestal and the smoke rising from it. Every muscle in her body felt tense, so rigid it felt as if she had been clenching her fists for her whole life. She couldn't remember how to move. She couldn't remember how to breathe.
Twenty six...twenty five...
Too soon!
That had been terrifying, but the countdown was still running. Stay on the pedestal, Jupiter told himself firmly, recounting what he already knew.
They were in a forest clearing. It was bright and sunny with clouds in the sky, and warm enough that Jupiter felt like he might want to take his jacket off soon. He wouldn't because it had pockets and they were going to be useful for carrying things. He knew he couldn't run very fast, at least not compared to the bigger kids, so he'd have to content himself with the things that were close to his feet. That box of granola bars. A ball of twine. Some rolled up fabric that looked like it might be a pair of socks. The twine and the socks would fit into his pockets, leaving one hand free to...
Nineteen...eighteen...
...to grab Viola and make sure she got away safely. She was one pedestal away from Jupiter, the pretty girl representing District 12 was between them, but he felt it would be relatively safe getting around her. Hopefully his allies would all be able to meet up later, but...
Fifteen...fourteen...
...he couldn't think about that right now. Getting through the next five minutes was the important thing...
Twelve...eleven...
His heart was racing, his palms clammy. At that moment he would have cleaned out a thousand toilets if it meant he didn't have to be here...
Eight...seven...
Grab the supplies. Get Viola, Get the... flip out of there, he thought, using the strongest word he felt comfortable with...
Three...two...
Jupiter's lower lip wobbled, picking the worst possible time for a personal pity party. He clenched his fists and blinked hard.
The gong sounded.
Jupiter jumped off his pedestal, grabbed the twine and stuffed it into a pocket, grabbed the socks, went to grab... no, someone else was reaching for the granola bars so he left those, spun around, darted past someone tall and dark-skinned and reached Viola, who was still standing on her pedestal.
"Come ON!"
He reached up to her just as his foot struck something. Viola still hesitated; Jupiter glanced down and saw he was standing on a small pocketknife. "Yes!" he thought, reaching down to grab it. That small pause seemed to have reminded Viola where she was, she climbed down and he took her hand, ready to run.
"Wait!"
Viola bent down and picked something up. Jupiter didn't see what it was. They looked at each other for a fraction of a second, then took off towards the nearest trees.
"Saoirse said we have to run away!" Victor was jumping up and down next to Aspen, shrieking loudly. She had picked up the nearest backpack and was starting to open it and look inside. She looked up at him. "We have to run and wait for them to find us! Come on – we don't want to lose the games!"
A few feet closer to the Cornucopia, Sparkle Rizla tripped over a bedroll, going down with a squeal. Richmond Halifax was approaching her, a long dagger in one hand.
"He's not kind..." Aspen said, frowning.
"Come ON!" Victor grabbed onto her arm with both hands, jumping frantically.
Together they turned and ran towards the woods.
"What's she doing?" Lyssa squealed, staring at the TV screen in horror.
"She's getting supplies" Swann whispered, barely able to force herself to speak over the lump in her throat. Victor had got away, he'd got away with a much older girl so he had a chance for now; her youngest was safe at least for the moment, but Saoirse had grabbed a couple of things on the ground, run a few steps towards the Cornucopia, and dodged a spear thrown by one of the older girls that had taken down another tribute. She seemed to freeze for a moment, feet shuffling as if she was unsure which direction to go in, then ducked across to the edge of the main supplies and grabbed a small backpack. It was then that the boy – no, man, Swann thought bitterly – grabbed her from behind and started dragging her towards the trees.
"No!" Lyssa slid off the sofa, crumpling to her knees on the floor. Swann wanted to cover her face, but couldn't bear to look away...
"Let me go!"
"Shut up!"
"Let me g...get OFF!" Saoirse twisted and tried to kick but the older boy was far too strong, continuing to half drag, half march her into the trees.
"Quiet! You wanted me as your ally, didn't you?"
"Leave me alo...what?" They'd almost reached the edge of the trees now. Saoirse's panic was subsiding as she realised who had grabbed her and remembered he had repeatedly said he wouldn't kill anyone. At the back of her mind she knew tributes lied about that all the time, but Arctic hadn't seemed the kind of person who would do that... she relaxed, thinking she could run away when he let her go.
Except she didn't. She couldn't. He'd taken the small backpack off her arm and she couldn't make herself scuttle more than a few steps away.
"That's mine..." her voice was squeaky and uncertain.
"Allies share." He emptied the contents, picked out most of the supplies which he shoved into his pockets, and left the bag where it was. And then, shockingly, took one of the large ones off his own shoulder and dumped it on the ground.
"Good luck. Stay hidden. Hope I don't see you again..." he took off into the trees.
Saoirse stared.
Arctic had left her a full backpack of supplies and the emptied smaller one.
She hadn't even said thank you.
And the games have finally begun! Hopefully I'll get into some sort of regular updating schedule now...I know I've said that before, but Saoirse and Jupiter are pretty loud in my head right now, so hopefully they'll get the attention they deserve!
