Author's Note
I do not own The Hunger Games.
District Four Male, Zale Tulius, 18
Arika was first into the water, but he was close behind, quickly followed by Tristan. It was cold, and the chill almost crushed the air from his lungs. The pair from Two plunged into the tank behind them, quickly followed by the girl from One.
Zale propelled himself to the bottom, beating Arika with his longer legs, and grabbed one of the backpacks as a handhold to keep himself on the bottom. He felt around it for the strap securing it down, and fumbled for the buckle holding it there. The water pressure made his head pound. He struggled with the strap for a moment before it finally released. It floated away upwards, almost taking him with it before he had the thought to grab the strap it had been connected to.
Meanwhile, Arika had managed to both free a smaller backpack and pull it onto her back, moving onto freeing a bow. Show-off. That hadn't been the plan. The intention had been to disconnect everything, and then connect it from the top. That meant some others might get a chance too. Zale's training at the Academy had never covered such a thing, but in such an unusual arena, it only seemed fair.
Zale went for one of the coloured baubles, a large thing big enough for him to get his arms around. Unlike the backpacks, it wasn't held to the floor by a strap, but simply weighted down by a chain and a black weight. A seam ran through its center. Zale dug his fingers into it, digging them into the rubbery material. It was tough and resistant, but at last it gave way under his hands and split apart.
He'd expected something valuable inside, a nicer weapon than those on the floor of the tank, or a large backpack. Something he could use against Arika. Instead, it held only two items: a small fishing knife, and a strangely shaped piece of metal on a leather band.
Zale grabbed the knife and hooked the band around his waist, holding it up for Arika's attention. This must be what they were looking for.
Tristan was the first to notice, giving him a thumbs up before taking off for the surface for air. The pair from Two had already needed to go, and the girl from One was quick behind them. The other two girls from One were only just reaching the bottom of the tank. Zale grabbed their wrists and yanked them the rest of the way down before swimming for the surface himself.
As he came up, he slammed into glass. The floor. He glanced about himself, searching for the hole he'd come through. Nearby, Tristan was having the same issue. A girl above seemed to have noticed and was pointing away to their left, her mouth moving, though he couldn't hear anything through the water. She hurried off in that direction and stuck her hand into the water. Zale gestured for Tristan and hurried to the hole she'd indicated.
Both of them surfaced with a gasp, gulping in air.
"Are you alright?" asked the girl. It was the one from Eight, he noticed now, the one that had been organising the bulk of the tributes and gathering the younger ones.
"Fine," Zale muttered, spitting out water.
"You got one," Tristan said with a grin.
Zale held his hand up for the Eight girl. She'd helped them out, he might as well return the favour. "These are what you're looking for. I think they're inside the bubbles."
She nodded. "Thanks."
"Don't count on us to bring them up for you." Zale twisted round and kicked off the glass, setting off down to the bottom again.
District Nine Male, Wolf Willows, 18
Some of the tributes had separated into little alliances, while other tributes were still milling around by themselves. A handful had dived into the water already, rushing towards the bottom. Others were still testing it out with fear on their faces.
"We can't burn anything here," Wren whispered.
"Later," Wren replied.
"Can we taste their blood?"
"Not here. Not now."
They were too outnumbered. He was strong, but he'd be outnumbered by others that were strong too.
"We need to fetch keys."
Without keys they'd drown, victim to the Capitol's traps. Wolf didn't want to play, but they needed to go along until they could find the best time to bite back.
"Can we drown them?"
"Not now."
He couldn't fight in the water. They'd both end up drowning.
"When do we get to kill?"
Wolf grinned. "When I've got a crossbow in my hands and terrain on my side."
District Four Female, Abalone Pereira, 18
Four keys from the bottom of the tank. This death trap was made to favour District Four. They must still have their career advantage, despite the numerous rebellions that had shaken their District.
The rebel girl looked to have fallen in with the large alliance that had formed, while the others from Four had joined the kids from Two. A fucking career pack. Even in a Games such as this, they wanted to form a fucking career pack.
Plenty would surely die because of that. She'd done the right thing, aboard the hovercraft, to refuse to join their alliance. It would only have led to trouble and pain.
No, she was better off on her own.
Abalone dove to the bottom of the tank and wrenched a trident free of its tether. She couldn't see any bolos, but it was a more unusual weapon that she might be able to request later. She'd not be able to use it here in the water anyway.
She snatched a backpack, a small, lightweight thing. If this place was more of a challenge, they might have more of a chance than normal to get supplies further into the arena. Or that was what she could hope, anyway.
As her lungs began to burn, she propelled herself back to the surface. For a moment there was panic as all she could find above her was the glass, and she'd not surface through one of the holes other tributes were clamouring around. She wasn't part of whatever situation they had going on.
Feeling around with her new trident, she found a gap and kicked herself over, rising through it to gulp in air.
This gave her supplies.
Now she just needed keys.
District Nine Male, Jarrod Palash, 16
More kids were jumping into the water now, struggling to swim down to reach the supplies below. Cruel place to keep them, really. Tributes were going to drown trying to reach them. Jarrod himself wasn't a strong swimmer – but what else was he meant to do? If the keys he needed were down there…
Jarrod turned to Amarine. She was younger and smaller than him, but she was District Nine, and that meant home. "If I get two keys and you get two, we can work together to get a door open for both of us."
She tilted her head. "Done."
"Come on." He slid into the water. It was warmer than he expected, though maybe he should have known given the temperature of what was pouring down on him. Jarrod pushed himself down. He didn't get far before his eyes started burning. Further, and his lungs were demanding air. Behind him, Amarine was struggling even more. Jarrod made a grab at the nearest item, a plastic bubble on a slightly longer chain. On his first attempt, his hands slid straight from the slick surface. He couldn't give up, but he needed more air.
He grabbed again at the bauble, this time managing to grab it at either side. He struggled to bring his legs down and brace himself. He couldn't take much more of this. His head was pounding from the pressure.
A hand touched his arm. A girl, blonde, with ice blue eyes. She raised a knife, and then mimed stabbing the bauble. He nodded. She plunged the blade through it. Inside were a leather band with a metal key attached and a small medical kit. Jarrod snatched both and rushed back towards the surface.
It took him a moment to find the hole he'd entered through, and with each attempt his panic worsened, until at last he surfaced through an unoccupied gap in the glass. The girl from Eleven was still trying to find a way out, hammering her hands against the glass in more and more of a panic.
Jarrod closed his eyes and stuffed the medkit into his jacket before turning in the water to begin the swim down again. The more keys he got before this water rose too high, the better.
District Ten Female, Laika Bergfalk, 18
"I'm going down there," Laika said, kicking off her boots.
"Can you swim?" asked Diego.
"Well enough."
That was a lie, but she was better than some of the inner-District kids flailing around like they didn't know which way was up.
"You won't help yourself – or us – by drowning," said Hunter.
Laika snorted. "I ain't gonna drown."
That'd be an embarrassing way to go. Let her go dramatically, if she must. Not drowning herself here and now.
Fortunately, few of the kids looked to be fighting each other in the water. Hopefully her main opponent would be the swimming itself, and the depth. Laika sucked in a deep breath and plunged into the water.
Her dive was much worse than the girls from One, and couldn't even compare to the kids from Four. She didn't even get halfway down before she had to start swimming. Beneath her, the girls from One were having to return to the surface, though several backpacks and bubbles were loose around them, bobbing back towards the surface around them. Laika grabbed a backpack and pulled it on, before hooking her hand through the hook under one of the bubbles and dragging it back to the hole she'd jumped through. She shoved the bubble out to Diego. "I'll see if I can get another."
"Don't push it–"
Laika plunged back under. This time, since a feeding frenzy had formed around those items freed by the District One girls, she swam for the bottom. Another girl was doing the same, her jacket marked as District Seven. She waved at Laika and pointed at one of the bubbles. Laika shook her head and gestured at a backpack. The girl shrugged.
By the time they reached the bottom, the Seven girl barely looked tired, but Laika's arms and legs ached like she'd ridden a full rodeo, and her lungs were burning. She grabbed the backpack she'd had her attention on and reached beneath it for the strap. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle.
The Seven girl produced a knife and reached under the bag to cut it free, then drove the blade through one of the bubbles and pointed at the bracelet and knife inside.
Laika nodded, grabbed both, and returned to the surface.
District Six Female, Venus Albryte, 14
The water was steadily rising now, already high up her shins. Soon enough she'd be having to swim. Venus had been keeping close to the edge of the hall, but kids swimming down to the supplies had started simply cutting things free and letting them float to the surface.
She couldn't swim, but she could grab things close enough to her.
Quickly, she darted into the fray, ducking and darting around the pack of kids as best she could in almost knee deep water.
"Don't fight over supplies!" shouted the girl from Twelve. "If you don't get anything, don't worry about it! Fighting will only make things worse!"
"Nah! Your 'peace and love' approach is what's gonna make things worse!" shouted Atlas, rushing forward to shove the girl back. "For you!"
"Hey! Back off!" snapped the girl from Eight.
Crude, but a perfect distraction. Venus darted in and grabbed a backpack, along with a small, cream colored bauble.
"Hey!" shouted a smaller boy.
Venus shoved him aside and waded back to the edge of the hall. The District Eight girl had now positioned herself in front of Atlas and was trying to reason with him. Waste of time. Venus had tried that on the hovercraft.
She dug her fingers into the orb and ripped it open. Inside was a bracelet with a key attached, and a small, smooth orb with a button in the center, a plastic cover locked over it. Her thumb hesitated above it.
One use, said the plastic cover.
Venus tucked the orb into her pocket. She'd work that out later.
District Seven Female, Phoebe Farley, 18
It was too loud here, and her wrists hurt. Phoebe stayed close to Falcon as kids shouted and screamed around them.
"We need to go down there and get bags and keys," Falcon said.
Phoebe nodded. They could both swim, Father had taught them, before he stopped being Father, but she hadn't in a long time. Not since prison.
'I won't let anything hurt you,' Falcon signed.
Phoebe nodded and struggled to smile. 'I love you.'
They had been all they had for a very long time.
To find a hole in the glass they had to kick through the water and stamp on the glass until their foot went through it, because the water was high enough now that it disguised the entrances. In a few places around the hall, kids were standing over the holes and marking them for those below.
'Ready?' asked Falcon.
Phoebe took his hand and dove in.
Swimming to the bottom of the tank was harder than paddling in the little pond where Father had taught them to swim. Phoebe's chest hurt by the time she reached the bottom.
The bottom of the tank was littered with supplies, tethered by straps or held down by weights. Some were bigger, some smaller, but the biggest were in a deeper pit in the floor. Phoebe held to other supplies and used them as holds to pull herself down to them.
She chose a large green backpack and got to work unfastening it. Falcon, meanwhile, had taken an axe and was now opening bubbles.
Just as sure could stay down no longer, and backpack came free, and Phoebe rushed for the surface. Falcon was close behind her. They passed a girl from One on the way, and she pointed out an area of the glass where other tributes were gathered. Must be one of the holes. Phoebe nodded.
She surfaced with a sharp intake of air, and other kids crowded her, reaching for her, chattering at her. She scowled and batted them away.
"Back off!" snapped Falcon.
"Be like that then!" said a girl, and flounced away.
"You just get the bag?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I got two keys. We'll have to go back down."
