Prologue

"It will not be given freely."
- Martin Luther King

The revolution would not be televised.

Couldn't.

Justice never rang too loudly in the beginning.
It broadcast itself through whispers.
Stories of it traveled into the rooms of fearful inhabitants.
Lies dancing in the streets with its victims.
Everything jumbled together until it exploded.
The impact destroying everything in its wake.

Nothing Left.

The illusions came to stay.
They offered comfort.
Silence in exchange for peace.
The disruptions had not saved the rebels before.
Nobody found solace in hoping again.
Justice came at a cost.
The enforcers always came to collect.

They Took Everything.

The reaping invaded their minds.
Hostility took to the streets.
Desperate times came.
Cruel measures followed.
Screams signaled the danger.
We looked the other way.
Fighting the war within,
Proved harder than the one we had already surrendered.

We Had Already Lost.

It picked us out.
Decreed that we were honorable.
The sting of its sacrifice would be scrawled into history books for years to come.
Nobody would ever pinpoint where it started.
The movement collided with the truth.
The admittance of guilt was a pill that few cared to swallow.
People hated to decree their alliance with the dark.

There Was More We'd Lose.

In the end, nothing more mattered.
It always came to this.
We bided our time until the collectors came for us.
We chose what was left to take, our birthright reclaimed.
The parades plentiful.
The outrage all-encompassing.

The Ultimate Price Paid.

Chapter One

"There can be no true despair without hope."
– Bane

Huey hated archery.

It was surprising how much he did. The skill took months of mental dexterity and required precision and proper physical technique. He wanted for neither of these things. In fact, he relished in having both. He often took liberties with archery that nobody else did. His family needed him to push the envelope. Bending the rules kept them alive.

The patience aspect was what unsettled him most. The calmer your mind, the better you shot, and the more time passed, the worst his got. After the year he'd had, his mind could not afford to stop. It was constantly racing. Especially now that he believed his name would be pulled to defend the state of Maryland in the Fourth Annual Hunger Games.

His family had tried everything to convince him otherwise, but even they had to admit that doubling the numbers for the state of Illinois had been a peculiar decision, especially since everybody knew that it was Huey's home state. Rollo Goodlove, the host of the games, had also announced that they would only select 26 children out of the remaining 49 states due to accusations that the games were being used in order to execute minority groups, targeting individuals who had somehow opposed the vision of Ed Wuncler III, President of the United States.

To even the stakes, Ed Wuncler Senior announced that his grandson would select 22 children from the state of Illinois alone. He stated that this would give them the opportunity to avenge the death of the Final Two elect from last year's game, George Bland.

George Bland was the first black child to make it all the way to the end. Huey had grown up with him before he moved to Maryland. His Aunt Cookie was best friends with the boy's grandmother. They kept in touch when they could, and he had been incredibly close with Riley. He was always a cool kid. Easygoing. Didn't start none, wouldn't be none.

When they had started watching the games on BET last year, Huey found himself nauseated by how George was treated. He was oftentimes ostracized despite his considerable strength as a player. He was hailed as the underdog. The Chi Gentle Giant had beaten the odds by playing strategically and defending the young woman he'd been partnered with until they had caught her alone, drowning her in a river. He was able to predict the layout of the arena and was praised for how he seemed to identify the Gamemaker's plan before the others did.

George had made it to the final round, and the Freemans had found it hard to watch. The whole world did. The two boys were brutalizing each other. A fourteen-year-old and a fifteen-year-old battling with large swords, slamming each other onto the ground. George had a dagger stuck into his shoulder, grimacing in pain while the blood seeped out of it. He had fought the other boy well enough to restrain him in a grassy area in the woods, preparing to deliver the last blow. The gamemaker revealed that the arena had been inspired by the Wizard of Oz. A tree came to life shortly after the announcement and held him with its branches, allowing his white counterpart to snatch the dagger out of his shoulder and slowly carve George open, spilling out his organs one by one until George died. His body had been so heavily mutilated that nobody dared to reair the footage.

They had been outraged. Kids at school could only talk about George. His Aunt had gathered the community to prep for his memorial services. When Ed Wuncler Senior had come to the school to discuss how the games had been a great success, Huey snorted. The man hadn't taken kindly to it, and he asked Huey how he was handling the loss of George.

Huey regretted not keeping a calmer head. He had fallen right into his trap. Wuncler hadn't come to offer his condolences. He was there to look for signs of a rebellion. Huey had been rattled too much in the past few years to care. He started yelling at Wuncler about how evil he was. About how they had rigged that tree so that a white boy could treat a black one like a holiday ham, slicing him open for the world to see . He went on to tell him that he, his grandson, and Ruckus were crazy if they thought this would end well for any of them.

The auditorium had grown quiet. They all knew that what Huey said was true. It was just that they were afraid. They didn't want to risk their families, their safety, what little they did have. Not for him. The last he remembered he had been screaming at them. He had called his classmates cowards. All of them. Huey told them they were all idiots that were going to stand by and watch it happen. That they were going to let them pick off the undesirables of society one by one until they came for the people they cared about.

He had been banned from the school, forced to be homeschooled for a year. His Granddad had told him that he could go back when the ban expired so long as he kept his mouth shut. He hadn't minded as much as he thought. He had hated going to school. It was just another place for them to be monitored and had become more about indoctrinating them into the ways of their new society.

When Ruckus had taken over as the mayor of Woodcrest, he had preyed on the fears of the general public. He gained a large following when vegetables became the carriers of a deadly virus. He shifted the blame to the Hispanic population, and later on, to black agricultural powerhouses, who were swiftly eliminated from the industry and reduced to attacks from various entities. Minorities everywhere had become the scapegoats for the pandemic. Once his mayoral run was up, he aimed for Senate, alongside Ed Wuncler III, who had been successful in his campaign alongside him as the President of the United States of America.

Together, they reinforced the notion that stereotypes were not bad things. Ed claimed that identifying patterns in people helped others to better protect mankind. Ruckus agreed with him. He noted some of the many disparities amongst the black population and claimed that many of these things were self-inflicted, and announced that these groups felt entitled to tamper with the food supply in the name of justice. He declared that these groups would be held accountable by a strict judicial system and that men and women of all races who managed to become a threat would be allowed to redeem themselves by having twelve states with the highest Wuncler Law violations draw from a pool of the child population for their specific state. The number of states had grown each year. Last year, they had pulled from all fifty.

Ruckus did not consider the effects of climate change in his decision making for Illinois. He also did not consider how expensive it was to test food and water for a growing population. His own cuts to government programs that regulated food safety and infrastructure contributed to a growing problem with contamination down the line. President Wuncler III had moved the food supplies to a remote area in the Midwest. The goods were guarded by soldiers with high clearance levels. Nobody was able to get in or out to inspect or verify the quality of the food, exacerbating the growing regulatory crisis across the globe.

Soon after, they began to burn the manufacturing warehouses for retailers down. They used dynamite to eliminate various farmlands. The flames had released several more toxins into the air, making the water undrinkable for almost an entire year and forcing the world to ration their water to the United States. The climate also made it impossible for the nutrients in the soil to be replenished. The natural resources to grow healthy food had been completely depleted, and the artificial resources weren't much better.

When word got out that people were stockpiling, Ruckus and other members of the Senate across the US took to the streets, burning the food supply of local residents and taking the food grown in some people's homes for themselves. Government officials declared that it was all unsafe to eat. The grocers were forced to comply. They emptied their shelves and only opened on specific days to ration the quality food in wealthier communities. Police were dispatched to guard the rationing centers placed in low-income neighborhoods. It cost nearly fifty percent of the average salary in the United States just to feed one person on a normal diet.

Ed's brother, Rummy, had playfully suggested that they introduce the games at one of his grandfather's famous garden parties. He had been a huge fan of the apocalyptic series and had called it 'Some Modern-Day Hunger Games Type Shit'. Ed Wuncler Senior loved the idea. It would give him an excuse to spread his business and push Wuncler Incorporated up the ladder as a true monopoly. It would also cement Ed Wuncler III, Rummy, and the entire Wuncler family as leaders of the United States, since they did not plan on exiting office once they were sworn in.

A group who had opposed the games tried to revolt, but the world was not ready for change. They were attacked and hunted like animals. Each activist had been brutally executed in the streets. The leaders of the movement were found hanging in the woods. The news outlets reported it as a mass suicide, but it had not been self-inflicted, nor had the report been an accident. President Wuncler III was making his message clear. His dystopian viewpoints were here to stay.

Huey shot his arrow. Another squirrel. A racoon he could skin and use later on. He made sure to find some safe vegetation to bring home. Something with enough fat to tide Riley over. His brother was losing more weight than he could put back onto his body, and while Granddad had never looked better, Riley had never looked worst.

"This sum' ole bullshit." Riley remarked weakly. "I don't want to go to this dumb shit tomorrow. They actin' like our asses got a choice anyway. They already know who's goin'."

Huey didn't say anything.

Riley stared back in the opposite direction of the path. His eyes softened. "You think they're gonna call her name?"

Huey flinched. He hoped not. Jazmine Dubois wouldn't make it if they did. She was stronger now. She had to be considering the world that they lived in, especially with Tom representing the families of the ones who had rebelled against the games. She was adept at building lots of little devices that helped her to trap small animals, and she even snuck out regularly to deliver food to unsuspecting elderly citizens. She had helped him and his family out when they had been too prideful to ask. He had opened the refrigerator after the raid, and it had been filled with plenty of items that they needed. She'd never admitted that it was her. He appreciated that.

They all did.

"Maybe she'd make it." Riley was speaking more to himself than he was to Huey. "She's better with a bow and arrow than you are. Most of the kids your age injured themselves trying to aim like her. She has a chance, McHater. They'd like her ass enough to sponsor her. It's yo' faggot ass they'd kill first."

Huey glared at him.

Riley gulped. Huey didn't have to say it. They knew Jazmine would rather die than kill anyone herself, and they both knew the kids from Chicago wouldn't hesitate to wipe her out first.

They stared for a moment, not saying anything. Huey gazed down at his brother, growing angrier at how he could see the bones emerging from the boy's skin. It wasn't right how he was killing himself. He'd been skipping some meals, declaring that he didn't need as much because Ed knew him, and since he was President, he would never put either one of them in the games. It was Huey that needed to worry, he'd said. Even Ed couldn't protect a hater. He was the one who they'd put out on the front lines.

Only this year…he hadn't said it as much. And they both knew why.

"What about you?"

He slowly turned his head to look at his brother and then shook it. He made sure there was enough water in the bucket before placed it in the gardening basket. He held it as if it weren't heavy and concealed it with Wuncler approved vegetation. They would be able to boil a little of the meat tonight without garnering too much attention if they were careful. They all needed their strength for tomorrow.

The house had become so quiet over the years. The entire street had. There was hardly any commotion at all. Not even the whir of an air conditioning unit, seeing as though they were considered harmful to the environment as well. They were now controlled by the US Government, turning on and off only when Ruckus wanted them to.

He nodded towards his grandfather who acted normal, standing in front of the television and pretending to work out. It would give him enough time to boil and cook the fish he had prepared. He and Riley would eat first, and then they would stand in front and pretend to argue. They didn't want another home raid like the one from two years ago.

His eyes landed on the house across the street as soon as they'd finished eating. He could hear her wailing as Tom tried to talk to her, no doubt prepping her for what they all knew was coming. Huey knew she was going to run before Tom did. He lifted, walking across the street and towards the door. Curfew wasn't for two hours. They had time.

"Let her go, Tom." Huey stood next to Sarah, watching the girl's retreating form. "There's nothing we can do."

"I know." He sounded so defeated. They all did.

"I can go in her place." Huey's words were like a whisper. "Really, just say the word."

He could see Tom considering the words. He loved Jazmine more than anything in the world. They all knew it. And so did he. "I can't ask you to do that, Huey."

Sarah and Tom exchanged a look before their eyes slowly trailed over to Robert's front door. "They need you."

He nodded, knowing that they were right. "I'll go talk to her."

He walked until he made his way to the hill.

The wind rustled around them. It was beautiful out. The sun was beginning to lower slightly. Golden hour was upon them. She wasn't crying anymore, and her hair was braided down tightly. She seemed numb. Like she was all cried out. The light in her eyes that he'd always tried to steer in the right direction, was completely gone.

The tree that had once been full and green had no leaves. Their spot was unrecognizable. No grass in sight. It had been beautiful before everything had happened. Now it was tainted. Barren.

He wasn't sure what to tell Jazmine. They probably would call her name on tomorrow. And he wasn't sure if he would save her. He didn't know if it was even worth risking. What would become of Riley and Granddad if he left them behind? They'd just come for them next. Right after they came for her.

"You'll be back in school soon." She gazed up at him.

"What?" He sat and looked in her direction. "Jazmine, you know that's not why we're here."

"You'll be back in school by next fall, and I'll be dead." She shook her head. "It's okay."

It wasn't. This was sadism, being inflicted on someone he cared for. She didn't deserve this.

"You're my best friend, Jazmine." He glanced off into the sunset. "It is not okay."

She placed her palms in the dirt. Her eyes focused on the sun. For a moment, she didn't say anything. He didn't either. They sat, enjoying the sun rays together. This might be the last time that they would see one another alive. Talking wouldn't change much. There was no point in ruining it.

"Do you think I have a chance?"

He didn't. With 24 kids coming out of Illinois alone, Jazmine probably wouldn't make it past day one, and that was him being generous.

"Yeah." He lied, staring into her eyes. "I do."

She got up. It was obvious she wasn't convinced. "Curfew. I gotta go."

"Jazmine…"

"Goodbye, Huey." She kissed his cheek. "Take care."

He stared after her, watching her until her form retreated into the sunlight. The last of his hope, fading with her.

Millions gathered together in Maryland's stadium, waiting to hear their fate. Each child eligible for selection waited in line, lifting their chipped arms to the scanner. Jennifer Harmon's information wasn't pulling up for some reason. They would have to reimplant her chip. It was a tedious process. One that was incredibly painful and took hours to recover from. Because of the games, it would have to be done immediately. He turned away just in time. He could hear her screams as they shoved the hot metal through her skin.

They all kept moving. Quiet.

Jazmine had entered the auditorium. Everybody's eyes were on her. Even his. To their surprise, she was walking in with her held high. She offered her wrist to the sympathetic registrar associate. When her information didn't populate, she flounced over to the chipping station. They continued to stare at her when she didn't scream out. She nodded and wandered over to the next station. She was only making it worst for herself. Becoming a spectacle was the last thing anyone needed in these games.

His strategy was to keep his head down. They couldn't pick you out of a crowd if you made yourself as unassuming as possible. These people liked a show. He refused to give them one. He moved, trying to keep an eye on his brother, who stood in line with the rest of the boys up ahead. Most of them were black. Some of them belonged to other marginalized groups, finally caught up in the system. Some of them were still undocumented. They had been left behind when the illegal immigrants fearfully evacuated the country after the food supply was destroyed for good. Few of them were white. A lot of them were able to file an exemption from the modern-day genocide games.

Granddad was on the phone with Aunt Cookie. They were both monitoring the games closely. Both concerned. The entire crowd was filled with nervous parents and friends. This never ended well for any of them. The crowd gasped when the senator of Illinois, Franklin Bennett walked on the stage with Rollo Goodlove, murmuring something into his ear. Rollo nodded; his eyes trained on Huey Freeman.

He tried to ignore the way everybody's eyes suddenly gravitated to him. He reminded himself that the moment he had spoken up that day, he had written his death sentence. He inhaled. He had always known that he would be the one to die for the cause. It was his time, now. He kept his eyes on his brother, discreetly scratching his shoulder to let him know to keep his eyes forward. Now wasn't the time for outbursts.

The boys stood in order. The youngest stood up front and the eldest stood in the back, nearest the guards. Same for the girls. Everybody around him was murmuring in low voices. Jazmine and Huey were both fifteen. Statistically speaking, they had a lower chance of being selected. Everybody knew that your name was entered twice for your sweet sixteen to avoid the stigmas that came with teen pregnancy and to encourage abstinence among the youth. Luckily for him, his birthday was right at the cutoff. He'd been born on Christmas Day. The same day that the Hunger Games began.

Rollo Goodlove tapped on the microphone. The entire stadium fell quiet. He seemed solemn.

"This year, I will be pulling the names for both Maryland and Illinois."

The people in the auditorium murmured amongst themselves, only quieting again when Rollo cleared his throat. "They will be selected from a pull of 50 names. If you and your family are located in Illinois, you must gather your things, leave the premises, and return home. Failure to comply will lead to swift action in accordance with Wuncler Law."

Senator Bennett walked onto the stage with a plastic bin full of names. It was quiet as they shook the bin and pulled out twenty four sheets of paper. He looked over at Jazmine and made eye contact. This would be bad for them both.

"When I call your name, please report directly to the stage. Once you get here, we will brief you and your families on instructions regarding your early morning departure."

He inhaled, opening the first name. Riley closed his eyes. Jazmine looked ahead. Huey glanced into the crowd. Rev. Goodlove started to recite the names. When he got to the final fourteen names, Huey held his breath.

"Tasha Fight. Kevin Bryce. Makayla English. Vince Steadman. Ming Lee. Hiro Otomo. Jennifer Harmon. Cairo Wright. Isis Smith. Michael Caesar. Cindy McPhearson. Grits from Illinois. Riley…"

"Riley Freeman." The man glanced out into the crowd. Riley looked as if he would pass out. "Come on, boy. We ain't got all day! I got more names to call!"

Riley turned back toward Huey and nodded. The boys nearby shifted away from him as if his fate was contagious. The guards stood next to Huey, blocking his attempts to enter the aisles as he tried to get to his brother. He glanced at their granddad out of his peripheral view. Robert Freeman was hanging his head, near tears. Huey knew what he had to do.

"I volunteer." He said the words, but he wasn't loud enough.

Riley was still walking. He was almost at the steps.

Huey shoved past the two security guards and called for his brother before they could yank him back. They all turned to face him. Riley's hands were shaky as he tried to force himself up the stairs. The eldest Freeman Brother was yelling, daring them to deny that they had heard him.

"Sit down, Riley!" Huey grabbed the teen and shoved him back to the middle of the aisle, making his way up the stairs to approach the microphone. "I volunteer as the male elect for Maryland! Don't make me say it again!"

Granddad was trying to usher Riley away from the aisles. "Come on boy."

"Granddad, do something!" Riley begged. His pleas quickly gave way to tears. "Granddad, no! We can't just leave him."

Robert Freeman's voice was cracking. Huey could tell that he was just as emotional as his brother was. "Come on, boy. Your brother will be alright. It's those fools up there who need to be worried."

They all heard a loud whack as Granddad pulled Riley away. "Hell, it's me your narrow behind needs to be worried about, anyway. Acting a goddamn fool on national television. Should be thankful Huey saved your ass."

Rollo Goodlove lifted the last sheet of paper and held it open. The final elect for the 4th Annual Hunger Games. He sighed. The crowd parted for her. Everybody had known it would happen. She was already walking down the aisles. Her head still just as high as it had been when she'd entered. Nobody could take their eyes off her.

"I promise." She mouthed to her parents. Both were a crying mess.

All of Woodcrest was. The sweetest, kindest girl in their grade, walking bravely to her death.

"Jazmine Dubois."