The 24th Hunger Games: Part Six: Alliance

The 24^th Hunger Games: Part Six: Alliance

By L. N. Price

            “What are you smiling about?” she snarled at him, the tip pressing further into his throat, almost enough to cut skin.  He hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, a clue that he was more worn out than was safe. 

            “Nothing,” he moved to raise his hands in surrender, but she only tensed, the spear going further and further.  He wanted more than anything for that spear to be gone.  “Look, I’m defenseless.  I’m not going to strike back.”

            She merely glared at him, not lowering her weapon.  “So?”  Her eyes flicked to his axe which was still in reaching distance from his hand.  “Is that supposed to make me trust you?”

            In one movement, he kicked the axe away from his grasp, an action that spooked her enough to have the spear’s tip slice into his skin.  It was only a small cut, but its size didn’t mean much when the blood started flowing.  Kaede quickly pressed a hand to the cut, staring at the girl in shock. 

Her own expression nearly mirrored his, the spear finally angling down.  She took a deep breath, sliding the weapon behind her, perhaps to calm him or even herself.  “What is wrong with you?” she breathed out, shaking her head.  “Do you have a death wish?”

“No, I just got picked.”  He didn’t mean to laugh, but when it came out, she joined him, their laughter tinged with their nervous energy.  When the laughter died down, they stared at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say, but inevitably lost.  “What do we do now?”

The spear edged back around her body, resting in front of her.  “I don’t know,” she said.  Her smile was gone, but she didn’t frown either.  “I should probably kill you.”

“Or you could let me go,” he replied unconvincingly. 

“And what good would that do me?”  She stood in that moment, aiming the spear back at him.  “You would only kill me down the road if you had the chance.”

“No I wouldn’t.”  He tried to smile, but the fear won out.  The blood that oozed from his neck began to trickle down, his hand wet where it had went to cover the wound.  He was starting to feel like his death was imminent no matter which way this conversation went.  That was what probably prompted him to bring up the one topic that could get him killed: “Why aren’t you with the other careers?”

She glared at him, the spear back at his neck, way too close to where his hand was already serving as a bandage.  He didn’t flinch, not when it could mean impaling himself on that weapon, but he remained very still.  “What makes you think I’m not?”  She was denying the obvious, her glare terrifying, but not entirely hiding the truth that was slipping out its cracks. 

He tried to tilt his body away from the spear, but she only came closer, her eyes trying to melt a hole into him.  When he knew he couldn’t escape her, he took a deep breath, gathering up his courage.

  “For one, they aren’t anywhere nearby.”

“They could be waiting,” she warned.

“For what?  I’m already captured.  I wouldn’t be waiting.”

“You wouldn’t know that.”

“I don’t need to.  You left the careers, admit it.”  He had long since forgotten his cautiousness, his courage rising as they bantered. 

She didn’t show any surprise if she felt it, only lowering her head, in shame.  “I left them.”  She dropped her weapon finally, sitting in front of him.  “He was going to kill me,” she whispered, her face falling into a frown.

He didn’t respond immediately, her words too close to the isolation that had followed him into the arena.  “I-,” he stammered as her eyes fell on him, clear and understanding.  “I’m sorry.”

“Why?  You had no influence in this.”

“I’ve been on my own for a long time.  It’s never easy.”

She shook her head, and tapped her finger absentmindedly on her spear, her gaze on the ground.  “No.  It’s not.”  There was a pause as she looked up at the ceiling of the forest, her blond hair resting against her back.  “I left Chrome with him though, and the only thing I can think of is that I abandoned him.”

“What’s your name?”  She stared at him now, still trying to figure him out, but without a weapon pointed at him this time.  He didn’t smile, or frown, his curiosity keeping his expression plain.

“Lux.  From District One,” she said.  “And you?”

Now he smiled, only a small one.  “Kaede from District Seven.”  Lux smiled back, but with a nervousness that didn’t put him at ease.

“And now we’ve made this much harder.”  Her hand gripped her spear, pulling it between them, ready to kill him.

“Or there’s another option,” he replied, hopeful though his axe was already in his own hand, waiting for the first sign that this wouldn’t work.  “We could be allies.”

Lux snorted, amused by his half crazed idea.  “Doomed to kill each other eventually.  Not to mention that I’d be doing the heavy lifting.” 

“Not true.  You are forgetting your District Two enemy.  Would he really just let you leave?”

Lux narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything, letting him continue, even if he dug his own grave with those very words.  “Besides, even if I did make it to the end, I’d be an easy kill.” 

Her expression lightened, a slight nod telling him that she was in.  “Don’t get your hopes up.  I won’t drag you around if you get hurt.”

“Good.  I wouldn’t want you to.”  She quirked an eyebrow, but stood, waiting for him to follow.

“So what is the plan, Kaede?”

“I think staying alive is a good place to start.”  Kaede stood, and picked up his axe, not missing the laugh that came from Lux.

“It’s going to take more than just simply staying alive, Kaede.”  She didn’t move to follow him, her gaze on the ground before her instead.  “We need to either keep ahead of the Careers or fight them now.  They’ve already started hunting other tributes, soon the lower ranked ones won’t sustain them and we will be next.”  He knew just by looking at her that she was imagining Mason standing over her, the giant tribute sending shivers down his spine simply in anticipation.

“So we stay ahead of them and if we meet them we fight then.”  She nodded, but something was still off, her motivation still weak, given it was their own lives at stake.  “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t entirely sold on this?”

Lux looked up at him, her eyes resting on his axe which was gripped calmly in his right hand.  “What if I can’t kill him?”

He had to fight himself to keep from sighing in frustration.  “Who?”

“Chrome.  I thought I could do this but now-,” she broke off, shaking her head.  “Now I just don’t know.  He was my friend, Kaede.  Before the games, before I’d ever even thought about volunteering.” 

Kaede finally sighed, putting down his axe and offering his hand to her.  “You can give him a chance but the first sign that he isn’t with us and I end him.”  Her eyes locked with his, surprised by the aggressive statement

"You mean that?"

He gave a nod, and helped her up, picking his axe off of the ground.  "This alliance only works if we are both alive, right?"  They gathered their belongings and did their best to hide the evidence of their earlier scuffle, kicking the dirt around, hiding their tracks.  "Which way should we go?"  They could go back up the hill he had just fallen down, or disappear further into the trees, either choice still left them far away from safety as the days crept further on.

“Trees.  We can hide better there.”  Her confidence from before was back, Lux taking the lead again.  She used her spear like a walking stick as they ambled further down the hill, straying from the level path he had collided with her on.  Bushes scraped his pants as they moved slowly, picking their way carefully down.  The lower they got, the more trees that sprouted up, the two of them weaving through the growing forest.  Distantly he could see the beginning of a plain, void of trees, green, and almost beckoning them to it.  He knew instinctively that that was the one place they should try to avoid, it would definitely end in a trap, which was something they couldn’t handle right now.  Lux must have thought the same, taking a turn to the left, and following the line of the trees, inching further and further away from the plain with every step. 

Suddenly, Lux stopped in front of him, Kaede bringing his axe up before him, preparing for an attack or a betrayal.  He wasn’t an idiot, he knew their alliance was a rough one at that, formed only for survival, though it would be an odd time for her to attack.  Lux merely raised an eyebrow at his attempt to prepare himself, saying nothing and simply pointing ahead.  Through the lower branches of the trees he caught a glimpse of movement, two people circling each other in the small clearing.  “Careers?”

She shook her head, kneeling on the ground to get a better angle.  Kaede lowered himself next to her, watching as the other two tribute finally grappled with one another, trading blows that were visibly on the weaker side.  Definitely not careers.  That was when he saw something that hit him with familiarity.  Her black hair waved with each wild movement she made making his breath halt.  Lux still had no idea who the tributes were, but he knew without a doubt that it was Ashley, her knife flashing in the light as she made another attempt to gut the male tribute.  Her aim though was easy to guess, and was easy to deflect.  She wouldn’t last long.

At that moment he wanted to go and help her.  The other tribute wasn’t that much stronger than she was and he could definitely outmatch the boy.  Lux must have realized what he was thinking as her arm reached out and blocked his advance, forcing him back down.  His adrenaline was already pumping now, prepping for action, slowing down any thoughts beyond violence.  He tried to move again, his axe ready by his side, but Lux moved faster, locking her hand on his shoulder in a vice like grip.  With a hard stare at him she whispered, “Would she have done the same for you?”  That question alone brought his adrenaline to a screeching halt, filling him instead with a coldness. 

“We need to be strategic, Kaede.  We can’t just blindly run into a fight.  We aren’t the Careers.”  Things had changed in such a short time, their roles suddenly reversed.  It was now him who was abandoning her, leaving her to die.  He tensed under Lux’s hand but didn’t try to move again, watching intently as the other two tributes fought.  Ashley was putting up a good fight despite her low skills, her blade still not finding its mark, but her opponents faring the same.  It seemed as if the fight would go on forever when one of the knives hit home, blood spurting from the fatal wound.  Kaede leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the lone victor as the other tribute’s body fell to the ground, stirring up dust in its collapse. 

It was the boy who stood still, his face grim as the cannon sounded in the distance.  Lux’s hand dropped from Kaede’s shoulder as she brought her spear out in front of her.  “Are you ready?” She made a motion in the direction of the boy, and didn’t need to say more as Kaede nodded back at her, both of them moving quickly.

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The 24th Hunger Games: Part Five: Disaster

The 24^th Hunger Games: Part Five: Disaster

His dreamless sleep ended abruptly, the cannon echoing in the early morning like a terrifying alarm.  Kaede gripped the axe tightly in his good hand, trying not to move from the hiding spot.  At first, there were not any other sounds, but then a scream –female by the pitch- broke out in the nearby stretch of trees.  Instinct told him to run, but the arena had already worn thin the trust he had for instinct alone.  He waited, tense all over, in the bush he had slept in, not moving a muscle, only listening for the next clue.  Regardless of whether it was other tributes hunting her or the arena itself, he would eventually have to move.  The question was not if, but of where and when.  If he moved too soon he could be spotted, and if he went in the wrong direction, the error itself could be fatal and unfixable.

            Whichever tribute had screamed didn’t repeat the action, but he could still hear her moving.  The speed she traveled at sent a chill down his spine as he realized she wasn’t being followed, at least not by other tributes.  She was utterly alone.

            He sat up, and tried to look over the shrubs, staring in her direction.  The effort did him little good, too many trees blocking his view of her.  When her scream broke out again he made his decision, grabbing his new bag and axe, and running.

            At first, he didn’t look back, afraid of finding the girl at his back ready to kill, or whatever was chasing her.  Pace though, was hard to measure when you didn’t know the danger at your heels.

            Pivoting, he stopped for a long moment and looked at what lay behind him.  The turn immediately gave him a visual on the girl, but it took him much longer to realize what she was running from.  Rising at most a few feet off the ground was a grey wispy fog, but instead of it having been caused by rain, this one seemed to form on its own.  It crept over the forest floor like a phantom, but no matter how far and fast the girl ran, it kept pace with her, lapping at her heels in a taunting fashion.  She didn’t slow her speed, but from where he stood, he could see her starting to stumble on flat ground, fatigue setting in.

            While pausing had allowed him to know what exactly he was fleeing from, it had also allowed the fog to get a start on him.  The closer it got, the more he could see its interior, currents of electric charges running through the thin wisps like a lightning cloud.  That detail was all he needed to start running again, but faster this time, the bag banging against his back as he charged forward.  He didn’t know where he was going, only that it was toward a hill, Kaede darting around trees, and nearly colliding with them as he tried to keep an eye on the fog behind him.  Whatever was feeding it wasn’t letting up, the fog acting like an unrelenting predator, and Kaede its doomed prey.

            Somewhere nearby the girl screamed once more, but this time, he knew she wasn’t going to make it.  He no longer looked at the fog, quickening his strides, and ignoring the beating of his heart, which hammered inside his chest.  The hill itself was steep, but the trees that had lined its peak had given no sign of the drop he was now facing.  Just within that second of realization, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight the pull of gravity that now tugged on him.  His running only made to push him like an invisible hand, down- down the rough terrain, tripping, and stumbling as he tried to keep himself aloft.  Behind, he could hear the faint sound of the cannon as the girl from before finally laid dead, the breath gone from her body.  The sound merely reminded him why he was running, getting him to pick up the pace.

            He didn’t dare look at the mass of fog that slowly, but surely crept at the landscape after him.  Kaede sucked in a swath of air, letting his legs carry him, even when his body felt as though it were shutting down.  His muscles ached with every jolt, and his lungs burned, not from inhaling the air from the fog, but from running.

            The ground at his feet transitioned quickly from leaves and pine needles to pebbles and rocks.  His shoes protected his feet from the change, but traction became an entirely new issue as he slipped, losing his footing completely.  The fall itself became a slide, and he found himself hurtling to the bottom of the hill, right in the direction of another tribute.

            Their bodies collided, sending him into a tumbling halt.  He could feel her presence beside him as the world spun, his head swimming in circles, but it did little to help him.  He knew instinctively that he should be reaching for his axe, but his body was in a state of shock, paralyzing him in that defenseless position.  The other tribute on the other hand, had no such problems, a spear already in her hand, its point angled at him.  Her spear though, made no move from its deadly spot as she scanned him, assessing things he could only guess at.

            “Which one are you?”  She had no doubt been keeping track of the tributes left in the arena, but her question caught him off guard.  Kaede remained silent, casting his gaze to his axe, which was only inches from his hand.  He could either answer the question or try to fight it out.  “Answer me,” she snarled at him, her spear’s tip poking into his neck, eliminating the choice of fighting.

            “District seven,” he replied, rasping out the words as he tried to gather his breath.

            She raised her eyebrows, taking in his form, and probably remembering who and what he was.  “Seven?”  The incredulity in her voice revealed exactly what she recalled of him.  It didn’t make him like her any more than her spear did.

            “Yes, and what about you?”  The frown on her face deepened, her green eyes darkening.

            “One.”  He kept his face blank, but he could sense her annoyance at his silence.  The careers had split up –even if it was just her- something that rarely ever happened.  Mentioning it to her though, would most likely get him skewered, and that was the one thing he did not want.

*This is a fanfiction based in the Universe of Suzanne Collin's Hunger Games, while most of the characters are OC's I am not profiting off of it any way, and do not own the rights to this amazing story world, or any characters that come from the actual books***

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The 24th Hunger Games: Part Four: Offense

He had fallen asleep somehow after the fallen tribute sequence, but it had been a light sleep, his rational fear keeping his senses heightened and his nightmares alive.  It was early morning when he woke, hardly any light breaking through the canopy of evergreens, and the nighttime chill still freezing enough to warrant the jacket he had been provided.  The jacket though, meant that while his torso was warm his legs were still cold, the shivers managing to keep a firm hold on his body.  Regardless of how he felt, there was only silence as he laid against the tree, seeing if he would fall back asleep or stay awake.  His panic from yesterday had left him with little energy, and his heavy eyelids made sleep sound like a brilliant idea, even if it wasn’t.

            Sleep was just beginning to take over when he heard it, a quiet ‘snap’ that jerked his head out of its lolling nod.  At most, the sound had been a few meters off, quiet enough to have been an animal, or at worst: another tribute that was passing somewhere nearby, but then it sounded again, closer this time.  Kaede glanced around his encampment, scanning what was available to him, but he was weaponless.  All he had at his disposal was the sample of branches, some way too small to take any person out, and the others much too heavy for him to even lift.  None were his first pick for a fight.

When the snap echoed only a few trees away, he grabbed one of the heavier branches, keeping most of its weight on the forest floor.  He sank down in the brush, gripping the large branch with his right hand, saving his left for the possible fight.  Finally, the sound had come close enough that he was able to pin it to a body; another tribute.  He was coming in Kaede’s direction, a weapon in hand.  From where he sat, he couldn’t tell what the weapon was, only that the boy approaching his spot was from district nine.  The branch leaning on his leg was more than large enough to take out the small boy as massive as it was.  He was only four to five feet tall, still a child, which would make the fight short.  The trouble came in hefting the long piece of tree, which had already begun to tax his leg and energy.

His leg tensed under the branch; he knew he would feel the soreness of this decision tomorrow, he already was beginning to.  A twig snapped a couple feet off, and Kaede prepared himself.  He counted in his head, marking the footfalls of the small boy.  One.  Two.  Three.  Closer the boy came, and with him came the noise of his footsteps; he was obviously not accustomed to masking his presence given the sounds he made in simply walking.

The boy stopped in front of Kaede’s bush, Kaede tensing at the sudden pause.  He had been silent; too silent for the younger boy to have heard him.  His unsaid questions though, were answered quickly as the cannon sounded in the distance, marking a new death.  Neither of them moved, waiting for another cannon shot, another death that seemed to always follow that first boom.  Kaede breathed in deeply, picking a plan of attack, and catapulted himself out of the bush, his branch swinging in the air, gaining a heavy momentum.  The District nine boy didn’t even move, didn’t turn from his staring in the direction of the cannon.  He just stood there, oblivious to the threat.

There was a slight delay in his senses as his body continued to move.  A delay that gave him the clearest, almost unmistakable view of the other boy’s confusion, and then terror as he registered what was happening, and what it meant.  Down.  His body only continued in its path downward on the other boy, swift, and gradual at the same time.  Then there was a ‘thunk’, as it connected, a sound that wasn’t as smooth as the machete he had seen the District Two boy wield.  The blow itself was merciful enough, clipping him brutally in the head with the force to give a near instantaneous death.  The force threw the boy off his feet, but there would be no catching himself from the blow, his body immediately crumpling to the ground with an even louder ‘thunk’.

Kaede could only stare as the breath left the young boy’s body, the cannon marking his fatal success.  The branch dropped from his hands, his left finally losing its strength once again.  Blood coated him from the strike -all not his own- some dripping and drying on his face, the rest remaining as droplets on his clothing, spattered across his jacket and pants.  He should have cared, should have felt sick, but instead there was only a hollowness; a sense of detachment, the blood becoming a second skin.  It didn’t help that he hadn’t a drop of water to spare for cleaning himself.

For so long he had dreaded the games and what they meant for someone like him.  No one at the Reaping thought he would make it, and yet he was still alive.  That had to count for something.  Or at least that was what he hoped for himself.  It was the only thing that he could believe if he was going to make it anywhere near the end of the games.

He stooped next to the fallen body, his gaze skirting over the marks he had inflicted himself.  From the amount of blood that coated the forest floor at his feet, he knew staring at what he had done would only hinder his own chance of survival, of winning.  Shuddering, he pushed his hand into the area under the boy’s arm, pulling out the weapon that had fallen under him.  There was a brief moment of relief as he grasped the weapon the other boy had been clutching; an axe, nearly identical to the one he had worked with back home.  Its steel tip glinted in the afternoon light, sharp and clean.  The handle under his hand was soft, not the rough wooden kind he had grown up with.  He pulled it up with his bad hand, wincing as it let out a deep ache, drained already from the attack.  For now, he would have to rest and recuperate in order to be ready for the next encounter.  He could make plans tomorrow for all the good they would do him at this point.  With a sigh, he switched hands, and held onto the axe, unable to place it anywhere else.  He would need it in the coming time anyway.

On the boy’s back was one of the bags from the Cornucopia, but inside of it was only a canteen that was half full, and matches that he would never use.  He sighed for a long moment, uncapping the canteen, and gulping down a fraction of the water.  Frustration kicking in, his hand tightened around the matchbox, crumpling it a little on the edges before he tossed it back in the bag, and slung the pack on his own back.  He would still need to find water.

There had been mostly silence for what seemed like forever, the sound of cannon absent in the arena.  His killing of the boy ended that long silence, but only for that short span of time.  From Berkeley’s words, he had remembered to keep count of the tally, which had now crept up to seven, only two days in.  He didn’t know which tributes remained, merely that he was sure the careers were still alive, and hunting everyone else down.  If he was to face them, he would need more than just his strength to survive.

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That night, he laid himself in the thick leaves of a low tree, tucking his body out of sight.  There was still light peeking over the canopy of the trees, but it was pitch dark where he rested on the ground.  None of the other tributes dared start a fire in the endless darkness, terrified of what the others could do to them in their sleep.  A lone light flashed briefly as the music began, and the fallen tribute’s faces showed in the sky.  Remorse had its second go at him when the small boy from nine appeared at the end of the sequence, a pang in his chest reminding him that he had done the unthinkable.  He had killed someone who should never have been in this hell hole.  He had killed a boy; an armed one, but still a boy.

The music ended, and the light faded from the clouds, nighttime enveloping him, and his growing despair.  The torture he realized, didn’t end as soon as the tribute sequence disappeared, it only looped itself day after day.  He would either win, die, or go insane.  He was sure he preferred winning as opposed to the latter two, but he had a feeling disaster was coming for him.

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Three: Clash and Carnage

“Are you ready?”  Berkeley stood outside his room, some compassion showing in his usual bored expression.  Kaede could only stare down at himself, taking in the outfit that had been sent up only that morning.  It wasn’t anything special, mostly a thin shirt that was fitted to his skin, pants, boots, and a jacket that felt too warm for the heated room they stood in.  The clues were right at his fingertips but he still felt unsure of where he was being sent.  Berkeley sighed beside him, and ushered him out the door, staying silent as they made their way out of the tribute center.  “There’s most likely a forest.”

            Kaede snapped out of his thoughts, stumbling a little from surprise, but Berkeley made no move to wait for him.  “How do you figure that?”

            “The jacket, and shirt.  Hot during the days, cold at night, though that’s pretty much anywhere these days.”

            It made sense.  “Oh.”

            “Look, it’s alright to be scared, Kaede.  I was, but don’t just shut it in, that only leads to you freezing on the spot, and getting killed like an idiot.”

            “So don’t freeze?”  Berkeley looked at him like he was stupid, but nodded anyway, probably out of pity.

            “Don’t freeze.  Just remember to run, and not go for the weapons.  Beyond that, I can’t really help you.”  They stopped in front of an aircraft, some of the other tributes already on board.  “I’ll see you right before you go up.”  With a last nod, Berkeley disappeared from the launch pad, leaving Kaede to board.

            Kaede paused at the ramp of the ship, staring at the Capitol person standing just inside, and the tributes who merely sat in their seats, no sign of fear on their faces.  He was sure his own had an expression of terror.

            The Capitol lady approached him when he still didn’t move, but she didn’t seem annoyed.  “Please, sit.”  She motioned to one of the seats, letting him strap himself in.  Once he was situated, she leveled a device near his arm, and shot something in it, the small object letting out an equally small light.  He didn’t ask what it was, he didn’t want to know.  That line of questioning only made the games that more real.

            He didn’t know the two tributes on either side of him, both likely from the farther out districts, but directly across from him was the district one boy, who now leaned back in his own seat, his eyes closed.  There wasn’t even a flinch as the aircraft lifted upwards, beginning the trip to the arena.  He simply sat there, taking a leisurely nap on their way to certain death.

            Kaede looked away, and down at his hands, the only things that would not attract attention at that moment.  His left hand was unusually still, while his right shook with nervous energy.  Sighing heavily, he sat on the hand, hiding it from the others and himself.  Don’t shut it in.  What had Berkeley meant by that?  How exactly was he supposed to let it out?

            There was a shudder as the aircraft landed, the ramp opening up to his left.  They were in a large hangar, all of the sunlight shielded out, and the exits consisting of twenty-four small hallways.  Each hallway was marked with a district number and a male or female symbol.  He spotted the one marked with a seven, and followed it down to a door.  His hand touched the knob, but it was a long moment before he actually opened it, the fear creeping up on him.

            The room behind the door was tiny, meant only to house the cylindrical elevator and the tribute.  Berkeley though managed to stand calmly next to the elevator, allowing Kaede some space to breathe.  “We don’t have much time, so if you have any questions, I would ask them now.” 

There was silence as Kaede slowed down his breathing, trying to regain some sense of composure.  When he spoke, his voice betrayed him, every word forcing him to take a large gulp of air.  “How long do we have?”

“They are about to start the countdown.”

He nodded, sitting on a small stool in the corner.  “How did you win?”  There was a rustle as Berkeley kneeled down in front of him, true pain showing in his eyes.

“I survived.  I knew my strengths and weaknesses and I played by them.”

“Tributes have one minute before Games start,” a cold voice said through the one speaker in the room.  It was a struggle to reign in his breaths again, the fear plaguing his mind, and making it difficult to focus on anything else.

“Kaede.”  He forced another breath out of his lungs, the panic not letting up.  “Kaede!”  Berkeley snapped at him, shaking his leg.  The panic didn’t go away, but the focus returned, his green eyes locking onto Berkeley.  “Keep it together, remember not to shut it in.” 

His confusion at Berkeley’s words must have shown, because the sympathy returned in that moment, Berkeley patting him on the knee.  “How?”  He could hear the crack in his voice, the fear that was driving him mad.  “How do I do that?  Look at my hand!”  His left hand still hadn’t acted up, but it was surely waiting for the right time.  “They are going to kill me,” he wanted Berkeley to stop it, to make it go away, but he knew; he knew that even Berkeley didn’t hold that power.

“Turn it against them, Kaede.”  He took Kaede’s ruined hand, and held it up.  “Make them realize that you are someone worth competing with.” 

“Thirty Seconds before start,” the voice spoke blandly.  Berkeley stood, and offered a hand to Kaede, helping him stand. 

“Let’s get you in there.”  Kaede nodded, and stepped into the elevator.

“Berkeley,” he paused in the entrance of the elevator, turning to look at his mentor.  “Thank you.”  The cylinder made a ‘click’ as it sealed shut, locking him in, though he could still see Berkeley standing nearby.  Distantly, he could hear the countdown continuing, soon to be reaching zero.  Anxiety gripped onto him again, his breathing becoming shallow, and his hand finally aching.  He didn’t look at Berkeley now, afraid his fear would show much too clearly on his face. 

Kaede clenched his bad hand, testing its strength warily, attempting to drown out the countdown from his mind.  It must have finally reached its end he realized as the cylinder lit up, and he was lifted into the sunlight.

Blinding light was all he could focus on at first, his eyes unable to quickly adapt to the ferocity of it.  Slowly, he could make out the shadowy forms of his opponents, all positioned in a semi-circle.  He stood on a raised platform, identical to those that the others stood on, the platforms and cornucopia being the only metallic objects in a sea of green.  Grass covered the ground, and in every direction there was a forest that seemed to go on forever no matter which way you went.  The Cornucopia was equidistant from each of them; a steel object that rested just in the middle of the circle.  Dozens of weapons glistened in the harsh light, each he had already displaced from his mind.  The arena itself was silent, save for the countdown which echoed around them. 

 “Let the 24^th Hunger Games begin!  And may the odds be ever in your favor!”  A loud voice startled him to attention, but he didn’t move, remembering Berkeley’s reminder.  “Ten.” Instead, he stared at the array of weapons, searching for the familiar even if he wouldn’t ever use it.  “Nine.”  There wasn’t a tension to the silence, only an intense concentration.  “Eight.”  Kaede leaned forward on the platform, keeping his hand steady even as a short burst of pain shot through it.  “Seven.”  His eyes focused on the Cornucopia, picking a small spot to fixate on, his plan good enough to fool himself.  “Six.”  In his mind, he chanted ‘run to the trees’, trying to keep his body in line, and not moving toward the one area that would get him killed.  “Five.”  He took a deep breath.  “Four.”  Beside him the other tributes prepared themselves.  “Three.”  Run to the trees.  “Two.”  Run to the trees.

“One.” The cannon rang out, Kaede flinching at first from its abruptness.  That hesitance cost him as he watched the other tributes dart forward, only a select few dashing into the woods.  The careers were quick, taking the weapons first, or killing those who had already managed their own.  Kaede’s chant left his mind as he stood there paralyzed.  It was a bloodbath, one body hitting the ground, and then another.  As each body fell there was a loud cannon shot, marking the exact moment they died.  Mason, the district two boy closed in on a small girl, and his machete ended her in several clean swipes, her blood spraying the ground.  That smile he had worn the other day was present, a smile that pushed out the simple fear of death, and pushed Kaede into a scrambling run.  He didn’t attempt to pick up any of the scattered bags, he just ran, not looking back at the gory mess he had fled from.  They were laughing he realized as his heart rate slowed.  They were killing kids just like them, and laughing, enjoying, the mayhem of the rampant death.

Once he had put a wide enough distance between him and the cornucopia, he dropped behind one of the trees, struggling to take breaths when the panic still burned inside of him.  He no longer could hear their laughing, or the sound of the cannon, but it did little to ease his trepidation.  His right hand didn’t shake now, but his left throbbed uncontrollably, Kaede cradling it against his chest.  He was safe for now, but it wouldn’t last, he knew it wouldn’t.  Berkeley’s advice had gotten him past the cornucopia, now he had to pull himself through the next part.  He didn’t have supplies or a weapon though, and that lack was something he wouldn’t be able to ignore for long. 

It remained silent as he leaned against the trunk of the tree, its roughness bringing him back to reality.  The bright sunlight the games had started under was dimmed, most likely now late afternoon, and soon it would grow dark.  If the Careers hadn’t left the cornucopia, they would now.  He would have to move, but that took more than just standing, it required a determined mind, something he didn’t have right then.  Without the sound of cannon fire, the feeling of being hunted was becoming worse, the Careers unseen and unknown.  Kaede stood from his resting spot, and finally looked at his surroundings, taking in the sameness of each of the trees.  They all looked nearly identical, useless in trying to pinpoint his location.  He had run, and now it was costing him.  No supplies, so he would need to make his own cover, and food.

The sun was getting lower and lower as he dragged branches still filled with leaves to a nearby hole, layering the pieces.  One after the other he dragged and mounted the branches, draping them together as best as he could.  With the low lying bushes, and shorter trees it looked inconspicuous, at least to the untrained eye, which was all he could afford.  After all the parts were placed together, he dropped down behind the wall of nature, and tried to settle down.  A task that became harder when the Panem theme played in the air surrounding him.  It didn’t just come from above, but from every crevice of the arena, destroying any chance of sleeping he had had.  In the sky, the Capitol symbol flashed, and then a stream of faces, all those of kids he had seen fall at the Cornucopia.  With them came the knowledge of their origin, the small girl killed by Mason being from District twelve, and the others, six in all, coming from Three, Five, Eight, and Ten.  Her name had been Iris that was all he knew, besides the fact that she had lived too short a life.  He was now one out of eighteen tributes left.  It seemed wrong to simply wait for one of the Careers to end him now.

The 24th Hunger Games: Part Two: The Capitol

The 24^th Hunger Games: Part Two: The Capitol

By Lauren Price

            They hadn’t gotten far off the train before they were herded into a nearby building, and again separated.  Ashley didn’t seem to care as more Capitol people swarmed them, whispering about all the work that had to be done.  The two that had taken him could only glance at his hand, gasping at its ruined appearance.  One -a female- laid her hand on his shoulder, sympathy clouding her eyes.  “If you win, we could have that fixed,” she smiled reassuringly.

            He had never thought about having his hand fixed; had never had the technology or opportunity to even attempt it.  “Really?”  There was no actual interest in his voice, but the question delighted her, her magenta colored eyebrows almost meeting her similarly colored hair.

            “Of course!  Anything is possible,” she gave a light laugh, leading him into a stall with metal walls, lights flickering on at their presence.  “Sit, sit.”  He was nearly pushed down onto a bedlike table, the woman looking through a row of strange tools that had been laid out.

            “So much to be done.  Deeva will have a lot of work ahead of her,” the man murmured, keeping his voice low. 

            “I believe the better phrase is, “a new canvas”.”  Another woman with dark yellow hair stood in the entrance of the stall, the light reflecting off her almost golden eyes.  They were technically brown, but the flecks of gold mixed in were so bright they cast the brown into shadow.  A smile graced her lips as she studied him, forming plans in her head.  “No, he is perfect.  Just tweak a few things here and there, and he will be ready for the Capitol.” 

He hadn’t expected her to think of him as anything near perfect, no one, not even those of his district, had ever thought that.  “The question is if they will be ready for him.”  Kaede didn’t need to look at the other two in the stall to know they were as caught off guard with that statement.  They had gone rigid, their mouths opened in surprise.  Deeva though didn’t react, instead leaving as quickly as she had appeared, that smile still planted firmly on her face. 

            The man and woman went back to work, trimming, and cleaning every last bit of him, their expressions firm and uncertain.  Kaede could feel the minutes slowly morph into an hour as he sat there being prodded, his body feeling unusually lighter.  When they finally finished, Deeva returned and they left without a word.  “What is the point of all this?”  He could feel the new weightlessness of his hair, now only an inch at most off his head. 

            “The Games have always had an aspect of glamour and pomp to them.  No one wants to see a cast of ragged children going at each other.  It’s unsightly.”  She sat down across from him, still looking more at his body than simply just him.  “I am your stylist, assigned by the Capitol.”

            “And what exactly does that mean?”

            Her smile deepened, those eyes sparkling.  “It means I help you look desirable,” she stated simply.  “You are going to want sponsors, especially with that hand of yours.  I and my abilities will ensure you catch the eye of said sponsors.”

            “Who would want to sponsor me, and why?”  Berkeley had said nothing of this aspect of the games, hadn’t even hinted at it.

            “Citizens of the Capitol sponsor their favorite tributes, and send items that are vital to their survival in the arena.”  The smile faltered into a frown.  “Has your mentor said nothing of this to you?”

            “No.”

            “Then you had better ask him.  I am simply in charge of your time here in the Capitol.”  She patted him on the knee and stood.  “I won’t be able to help you out there.”  A sadness crept into her voice as she walked to the doorway.  “I’ll see you in a while, Kaede.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Tonight at the chariots,” she said.  “I still need to make a few adjustments to your outfit.  But when it’s done you will be perfect.”  She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she left again.

          

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  She had said perfect, but he felt ridiculous in the outfit.  It had been picked to represent his district, but that meant it had to involve trees.  Trees weren’t exactly the most fashionable, or flattering topic for clothes.  To make it worse, he could see the Careers as they prepared to get in the first two chariots, both pairs looking excruciatingly better than the other ten districts around them.

            One of the taller boys, from district two, he figured, stared back at him, his eyes forming a hard glare.  “I’ve done all I can,” Deeva said, blocking his view of the other boy.  “The rest is up to you.”  She sounded less than hopeful, but the smile on her face made him question that assumption.

            “I would hide that hand to give yourself at least a chance.”  Berkeley walked up to the two, his expression carefully blank.  “Sponsors are less likely to support you if they think you won’t make it,” he said simply.

            Kaede stared down at his hand, but nodded, working out the placement of it already.  “Come on.  They are about to call for the chariots.”  Berkeley helped him up, showing silently where he should hide his hand.  Ashley joined him in the chariot, but without a single word, not even failing to give a look of annoyance to him.

            Ahead of them, the first chariot rattled forward, clearing the large hangar like room they had all been prepared in, and into the night.  From where they were waiting, he couldn’t see anything but the darkness, and a few flashing lights, everything else obstructed by the white walls of the room.

            One by one, the chariots fell into a line, the horses kept at a trot as they each led themselves out of the building.  The white walls were quickly replaced with the night sky, but on either side of the wide road they were on, there were stands filled with Capitol citizens.  A light shone on them as they made their progression to the building at the far end of the road.  It was taller than any of the others that surrounded them, a screen propped up on it showing the sitting figure of a middle aged man.  He was important, maybe the president, but for some unknown reason the man’s expression never changed from a bored frown.

            “Smile, you idiot.  You look like an imbecile,” Ashley snapped beside him, a stretched smile covering the anger she had for him.  Her voice though, was hard to hear over the clamor of cheers from the stands around them.  As an example, she waved at the crowds, smiling like they were her favorite people.  A part of him felt disgusted at the acting, but he realized the point of it enough to know what it meant to winning.  He followed her in waving, but his smile was thin, hardly concealing the uneasiness or bitterness that came with being made a tribute.

            Whatever the Capitol people read from their expressions, it didn’t affect them, each of the stands seeming louder and louder as they progressed down the road.  The roar stilled his hand for that moment, and he felt the fear catch up to him, felt it fully take root.  They were cheering for children that they would soon watch not just die, but kill one another.  It was a thought that sickened him to the core.  He continued to wave, but now the smile wouldn’t even come back, leaving him in between the smile and frown, hopelessly lost in the cheering.

            Once they had made it to the end of the road, all the chariots made a wide crescent formation in front of the building, only then coming to a halt.  The screen showed the man standing and coming to the podium above them, his frown still visible, though there was a small smile forming slowly.  “Welcome tributes!”  He made a motion with his hands, indicating all the chariots below him.  “This is a wonderful and grand occasion for us all.  To witness the strength, honor, courage, and sacrifice that the Hunger Games bring us.”  The smile came to fruition as he continued making his speech.

            “For you, the tributes this is a chance to find out your potential and vie for the chance to be victor!”  He made it sound glorious, nothing like the image of wasteful death that Kaede had formed in his mind.

            “For the citizens of the Capitol, it is our chance to witness the moment when they become all they can be.  To witness the birth of a victor!”  A cheer rose in the crowd, and Kaede could feel the vibration of it in the chariot, the sound turning his blood cold.

            “We acknowledge your sacrifice, tributes!”  The smile was beginning to scare him, and the line itself reminded him of what his parents used to tell him the Romans had declared to the Gladiators, who they had knowingly sent to their deaths.  They were dismissed by that line, the chariots slowly making their way into an area under the building.  He didn’t breathe until the chariot came to a stop in front of Berkeley, Devri, and Deeva, who only appeared to be proud.

            “You did well!  You both looked so splendid out there.  Almost even on par with Districts One and Two.”  Deeva embraced them, a wide grin casting her eyes into a flicker of gold.

            “At least they are making my job easy enough,” Berkeley replied.  He was serious again, the congratulations over for now.  “There are already sponsors interested in the two of you, though they won’t commit until the scoring.”

            Ashley grumbled beside him, letting the air of happiness disappear.  “And why not?”

            Because tributes from District Seven don’t have an outstanding track-record.  No one wants to gamble on an unknown.”

            It made enough sense.  “I take it the Careers already have sponsors.”

            “Of course.”  Berkeley shrugged, and glanced in the direction of the group, casually observing the lethal tributes.  “They are worth the early commitment.  Typically at least.”  He stopped staring at the group, and looked back at them.  “Let’s go.  I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be rough on the two of you.”

            “What about tomorrow?”  Ashley was picking at her outfit, trying to hide the scowl that he was starting to realize might have been a permanent feature.

            “Training tomorrow, Scoring the day after.  Unless one of you knew more about fighting and survival than I thought you did.”  They followed him into an elevator, Deeva and Devri coming as well.

            “I know enough,” Ashley muttered, her ego still being deflated by Berkeley.

            Berkeley looked like he would laugh in that instant, but instead sighed, directing his full attention to her.  “Really?  So tell me when it’s a good idea to set a fire,” he half yelled at her.

            For once, her frown was gone, and she looked genuinely scared.  “At night?”  She nearly whispered back.

            Berkeley shook his head, and kneaded his forehead, calming down a little.  “Never.  Fires are like flashing beacons for other tributes to come slit your throat while it’s easy.”  The elevator door opened, and he walked into a bright, open room.  “These are your living quarters,” he said with one hand motioning at the large space.  “Go ahead and get settled.  I’m going to sleep.”

            “But what about tomorrow?”  Berkeley had said something about training, but the word seemed vague.

            “Learn as much as you can.  I’ll talk to you afterwards about the scoring.”

            “Thank you, Berkeley.”

            All he received for reply at first was a sigh of frustration.  “Don’t thank me yet, kid.  My conscious can’t take that pressure right now.”

            Kaede nodded and let him disappear into a nearby room, making his own way down the hall to another.  The room he stepped in was as large as the home he had grown up in, and though it was sparsely furnished, the bed seemed inviting enough.  He hardly had any energy left after the Reaping, and chariot ride.  The bed didn’t even creak as he splayed himself out on it, basking in its luxurious softness.  It was sad that the cost of such comfort was death, otherwise it could have been worth it.  He stared up at the bare ceiling, trying to form some kind of plan of attack for the next day.  Berkeley wanted him to learn, but what would even help him out in that bloodbath of arena?  For all he could figure out, there were two sides to becoming the victor; those that hid and focused on survival, and those who killed until they were the only ones left.  He didn’t really fit into either group, he wasn’t a straight out killer, and hiding seemed like an even worse concept.  But did that mean that he would have to change in order to simply live?  He fell asleep to those thoughts, letting them churn in his mind as he dozed off, not committing to anything no matter how much he truly thought on it.

        ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

  After only a few, brief instructions, and reminder not to kill each other yet, they had been left to figure out the training room for themselves.  Only a small portion of the tributes made a move to grapple with the weapons that had been laid out on multiple racks.  The Careers had taken over immediately, claiming weapons that made the weaker tributes shrink back, already fearing for their lives.

            Out of the weapons provided, he saw only one axe, which sat right next to where the District one boy had set up his sword practice.  He wouldn’t be practicing with the axe if he had to be near a Career.  Taking a calming breath, he moved on to the next station.  He tried not to flinch as he heard the thud that came from the dummy losing portions of his body at a time, the machete slashing through him like it was butter.  The District Two boy, Mason, was merciless, cutting at the inanimate object.  Fear was the only thing the act could inspire from its viewer.  He paused momentarily from his dismembering to grin at Kaede, his eyes dark with a promise of death.  Kaede continued walking, and picked up a long blade, swinging it a little in the air.

            “And what exactly do you plan to do with that?”  A snide voice questioned from beside him at the station.  He looked up from the blade to see one of the Careers staring back at him, but not with condemnation, but a quizzical expression.  Her blonde hair was tied back in a long braid that hung loosely behind her, but his gaze fell on the spear that she held.

            “Practice.”  She didn’t reply to that, but he could see one of her eyebrows raise before she shrugged, and got into a stance, her concentration on the targets before them.  In one swift motion, the spear was out of her hand, and into the air, hitting the target dead in the center.  She let out a sigh of happiness as she realized where it had hit, and Kaede found himself staring at the blade in his hands, and back at the axe he had walked past before.  Berkeley had said practice, and while he was sure he had meant to prepare himself for the survival part, Kaede couldn’t find any interest in that.  He was already walking before he knew what he was doing; already had the axe in hand before the Careers even took notice of him being so close to them.

            The axe wasn’t like the one he had used at home, but its shape and form were familiar enough.  His hand fell into place on the handle, Kaede walking back over to the Career girl, and stepping up beside her, getting into his own stance.  With a hard stare at the targets, he loosed the large axe, letting it spin in the air and hit another target right where he had aimed.   The room fell silent around him, the Careers still watching him, most likely calculating how much of a threat he was now.  He wanted to gloat, to let them know how much he wanted that to scare them, but he knew that would only make him target number one.   Instead, he pulled the axe out of the target, not with his right hand, but left, letting them see how useless his hand truly was.  It wouldn’t have been able to hold the axe for long, but they didn’t need to know that.  He smiled to himself as they all showed even a little surprise at the action.  He wasn’t out of the standings yet at least.  The gloating clouded his mind of all the suggestions Berkeley had given him, Kaede continuing to focus solely on the familiar axe, throwing it, and swinging it at the dummies the Careers had been using earlier.  It was almost like being back at home, and secretly practicing in the field behind his house.  Free of judgment from others, and free to not have to think for once.  He could lose himself in the naturalness the axe gave to him. 

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   He should have experimented with the survival equipment that had been provided in the training room.  Or at least have had the sense to try out other weapons.  He now regretted that as he waited to be called into the scoring room.  No one stared at him here, all the other tributes thinking about only themselves now, not calculating anything at this point until when the scores would be released.  The Careers were already gone, but the waiting room was still silent, everyone focused on what they would do to gain their scores. 

            “District Seven.  Kaede Johnson.”  Ashley watched him as he stood, and walked through the gate, her own nervousness making her seem caring in that moment.  The room he stepped into was expansive, but only somewhat lit, most of the lights focused on a small area.  Placed in that small area were the racks of weapons that he had seen in the training room, but now there was no pressure from fellow tributes to avoid it.  Above the area was a sitting area where men of all ages sat staring bored already at his entrance.  It was as silent as the waiting area, but now he felt inclined to speak, to announce himself.

            “District Seven.  Kaede Johnson,” he repeated what the speaker from before had said, taking an axe off the rack.  He didn’t fail to notice how their expressions remained unimpressed, already counting him off their lists before he had even started.  He grabbed the single axe off the rack, and tested its weight.  It was just like the one he had used the day before down to the coloring.  He looked back up at the men, feeling their stares on him as he stepped up to the line, eyes on the targets in front of him.  Their disapproval annoyed him, but he merely swung the axe in his hand, letting it cross hands for a second, and then fall back into his right, not even making the stance as he threw the axe.  He didn’t look at them; didn’t look at the target as the axe met the metal dummy, simply turning on his heel, and walking out of the room.  He didn’t need to see if they were impressed, didn’t need to check if he had missed or not.

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   “You just left?”  Devri looked at him like he was an entirely different person, and wasn’t sure how to figure him out.

            “Yeah.  I don’t need their approval.”  Berkeley snorted from beside him, even as Ashley glared at him.

            “You didn’t help me out with your show,” she huffed, sitting on the couch with them.  “They just sat there at first, like they didn’t know how to move or speak.”

            Berkeley laughed instead of sympathizing for her, clapping Kaede on the back.  “You really showed them what a District Seven tribute can do!”

            Ashley didn’t drop it, her eyes on the television screen.  “I just hope my score is decent.”

            “After Days of careful evaluation, our tribute’s scores have been realeased!”  The announcer let out a sound of glee, shuffling the papers before him.  “From District One, Chrome,”  The picture of the tall and skinny career flitted on the screen.  “with a score of ten.”  Berkeley nodded, already having figured that out.

            “They always get high scores,” he said solemnly.  The announcer continued, showing a picture of the girl he had practiced beside in the training room.

            “Lux with a score of eight.”  Her picture passed off screen, and then the boy who had grinned at him replaced her.

            “From District Two, Mason with a score of eleven.”  Berkeley now seemed less certain as he saw the number, and it only made Kaede feel icy inside. 

            “You’re going to have to keep an eye out for him.  He will be trouble.”

            Kaede nodded, his eyes not leaving the television.  “I figured as much.”  Pictures and numbers flitted on and off the screen, but he couldn’t find himself finding much interest when the other tribute’s scores were much lower than the Career’s.  Then the announcer came to his district.  “From District Seven, Kaede,” there was a pause as the man looked at the score, and his eyebrows rose.  “with a score of nine.”  A low whistle issued from Berkeley, and Kaede found that he himself was as surprised as the others.

            “And Ashley with a score of six.”  He felt her anger then, but for some reason didn’t feel the need to fear it, or worry over it.  Her score was her own, and his actions had nothing to do with her’s.  It could have been the high score talking, but she had written him off from the beginning, not the other way around.  If she regretted her words, she would have to be the one to mend the gap, because he was no longer willing to play friend anymore.

            They were supposed to watch the entire sequence of tributes and scores, but when he simply sat there staring blankly, Berkeley had sent him away, and he had ended up on the balcony.  He didn’t leave the small space for another several hours, letting the breeze tousle his hair, and make him feel less doomed.  In the distance, he could still hear the sound of the Capitol parties, but instead of feeling bitter, he found himself relaxing to the sound, losing himself in his thoughts, or rather absence of them.  There would be plenty of time for thinking when he reached the arena, and the idea of that alone stilled his mind, allowing him to sit there and simply get lost in the moment.  Tomorrow would catch up to him anyway.

***I don't own the picture, or concept of the Hunger Games.  The story and characters though are  products of my imagination.***   If interested in the series, this is part two, and part one is also up if you check out the 24th Hunger Games tab on the site.  Happy Reading!  Part 3 will be up in early October at the latest due to school, but it will be here, I promise!