"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!" The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, hammers my ear. I have less that a minute to bet my bearings. Then the gong will sound and the tributes will be free to move off their metal plates. But move where?
I can't think striaght. My eyes scan around me looking for one of my friends. Slowly the world comes into focus. Blue water. Pink sky. White-hot sun beating down. All right, there's the Corncopia, the shining gold metal horn, about forty years away. At first, it appears to be sitting on a circular island. But on closer examination, I see the thin stripes of land radiating from the circle like the spokes in a wheel. I think there are ten to twelve, and they seem equal distant from one another. Between the spokes, all water. Water and a pair of tributes.
That's it, then. There are twleve spoke, each with two tributes blanced on metal paltes bettwen them. The other tribute in my watery wedge is Woof from District 8. He's about as far to my right as the land strip on my left. Beyond the water, wherever you look, a narrow beach and then dense greenery. I scan the circle of tributes, looking for Finnick, but he must be blocked from my view by the Cornucopia.
I catch a handful of water as it washes in and smell it. Then I touch the tip of my wet finger to my tongue. As I suspected, it's saltwater. Just like the water Finnick is used to in his Distrct. But at least it seems clean.
There are no boats, no ropes, not even a bit of driftwood to cling to. No, there's only one way to get to the Cornucopia. When the gong sounds, I don't even hesitate before I dive to my left. It's a longer distance that I'm used to, and navigating the waves takes a little skill than swimming across my quiet lake at home, but my body seems oddly light and I cut through the water effortlessly. Maybe it's the salt. I pull myself, dripping, onto the strip and sprint down the sandy stretch from the Cornucopia. I can see no one else converging from my side, although the gold horn blocks a good portion of my view. I don't let the thought of adversaries slow me down, though. I'm thinking like a Career now, and the first thing I want is to get my hands on a weapon.
The first time I was in the arena, the supplies were spread out a distance around the Cornucopia, with the most valuable closest to the horn. But this year, the booty seems to be piled at the twenty-foor high mouth. My eyes instantly homes in on a golden bow just in arm's reach and I yank it free.
There's someone behind me. I'm alerted by, I don't know, a soft shift of sand or maybe just a change in the air current. I pull an arrow from the sheath that's still wedged in the pile and arm my bow as I turn.
Finnick, glistening and gorgeous, stands a few yards away, with a trident poised to attack. A net dangles form his other hand. I lower my bow as he smiles at me. I see Katniss standing beside him and I pull a golden necklace from around my neck to show her that I am with her. When her eyes land on it, the golden arrow, her eyes lift back up to mine. For a moment we're frozen, sizing each other up, our weapons, our skill. "I guess we're all allies then." She speaks.
I nod my head as does Finnick.
I can hear other footsteps approching. "Duck!" Finnick commands in such a powerful voice, so different from his usual seductive purr, me and Katniss both do. His trident goes whizzing over my head and there's a sickening sound of impact as it finds its target. The man from District 5, the drunk who threw up on the sword fighting floor, sinks to his knees as Finnick frees the trident from his chest. "Don't trust One and Two," Finnick says.
There's no time to question this. I work the sheath of arrows free. I look over at Katniss and hand the bow and arrows over to her. "Here, you're probably better with it than I am."
She shakes her head, "No, it's fine, there's another set over there." She says pointing a few feet away from me and I help her get them. Then I see a sword laying on the floor beside me.
"Does Peeta use a sword?" I ask her.
She nods and I pick up the sword and hook it onto my belt to give to Peeta when we find him. The three of us take each side, I go with Katniss and Finnick goes by himself. We dart around the pile. About four spokes apart, Enobaria and Gloss are just reaching land. Either they're slow simmeres or they thought the water might be laced with other dangers, which it might well be. Sometimes it's not good to consider too many scenarios. But now that they're one the sand, they'll be here in a matter of seconds.
"Anything useful?" I hear Finnick shout.
I quickly scan the pile on my side and find maces, swords, bows and arrows, tridents, knives, spears, axes, matallic objects I have no name for ... and nothing else.
"Weapons!" Katniss calls back. "Nothing but weapons!"
"Same here," he confirms. "Grab what you want and let's go!"
Katniss shoots an arrow at Enobaria, who's gotten in too close for comfort, but she's expecting it and dives back into the water before it can find its mark. Gloss isn't quite as swift, and she sinks an arrow into his calf as he plunges into the waves. Slinging the bow over her body, I slide two long knives and an awl into my belt, and we meet up with Finnick at the front of the pile.
"Do something about that, would you?" he says. I see Brutus barreling towards us. His belt is undone and he has it stretched between his hands as a kind of shield. I shoot at him and he manages to block the arrow with his belt before it can skewer his liver. Where it punctures the belt, a purple liquid spews forth, coating his face. As I reload, Brutus flattens on the ground, rolls the few feet to the water, and submerges. There's a clang of metal falling behind me. "Let's clear out." Katniss says to us.
This last altercation has given Enobaria and Gloss time to reach the Cornucopia. Brutus is within shooting distance and somewhere, certainly Cashmere is nearby, too. These four classic Careers will no doubt have a prior alliance. Katniss was the first to spot Peeta, still stranded on his metal plate. She takes off with me and Finnick following without question, because we knew this would be her next move.
As Katniss starts removes knives from her belt, preparing to swim out to reach him and somehow bring him in. Finnick drops a hand on her shoulder. "I'll get him." He drops all of his weapons to the gorund and I can see that Katniss is still not putting her trust in him. "Better not exert yourself. Not in your condition," he says, and reaches down and pats her abdomen.
He turns to me as he is positioning himself at the edge of the water. "Cover me," he says. He disappears with a flawless dive before I can even nod my head. I raise my bow, warding off any attackers from the Cornucpoia, but no one seems interested in pursuing us.
Sure enough, Gloss, Cashmere, Enobaria, and Brutus have gathered, their pack formed already, picking over the weapons. A quick survey of the rest of the arena shows that most of the tribues are still trapped on their plates. Wait, no, there's somone standing on the spoke to my left, the one oppsite of Peeta. It's Mags. But she neither heads for the Cornucopia nor tries to flee. Instead she slashes into the water and starts paddling towards me and Katniss, her gray head bobbing above the waves. Well, she's old, but I guess after eighty years living in District 4 she can keep afloat.
Finnick has reached Peeta now and is towing him back, one arm around his chest while the other propels them through the water with easy strokes. Peeta rides along without resisting. I don't know what Finnick said or did that convinced him to put his life in his hands — showed him the bangle, maybe. Or just the sight of Katniss waiting might have been enough. When they reach the sand, I help haul Finnick and Katniss helpls haul Peeta up onto the dry land.
"Hello, again," he says, and gives her a kiss. "We've got allies."
"Yes. Just as Haymitch intended," she answers.
"Remind me, did we make a deal with anyone else?" Peeta asks.
"Only Mags, I think," Katniss says. She nods towards the old woman doggy paddling her way towards us.
"Well, I can't leave Mags behind," says Finnick. "She's one of the few people who actually likes me."
"I've got no problem with Mags," Katniss says. "Especially now that I see the arena. Her fish hooks are probably our best chance of getting a meal."
"Katniss wanted her one the first day," says Peeta.
"Katniss has remarkably good judgemnet," I say as Finnick reaches into the water with one hand and scoops out Mags like she weighs no more than a puppy. She makes some remark that I think includes the word "bob," then pats her belt.
"Look, she's right. Somone figured it out." Finnick points to Beetee. He's flailing aorund in the waves but managing to keep his head above the water.
"What?" Katniss says.
"The belts. They're flotation devices," I say, catching on to what Finnick is talking about. "I mean, you have to propel yourself, but they'll keep you from drowning."
After a few moments Katniss suggests we move on. I hand Peeta a sword as Katniss gives him a knife. Mags taps on her shoulder and babbles on until Katniss gives the awl to her. Pleased, she clamps the handle between her gums and reaches her arms up to Finnick. He tosses his net over her shoulder, hoists Mags on top of it, grips his tridents in her free hand, and we run away from the Cornucopia.