Defiance: The 13th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter Ten

"Y-You won the Hunger Games?" I whisper.

Why would she become a stylist if she won the Games? The victors always return to their districts, to the Victor's Village, and live a life of luxury. Why would Isobel want to return to the Capitol?

Isobel says quietly, "Yes." Her voice rises back to its normal tone, "But we don't have time to talk right now. We don't want to be late."

I don't have time to say a word. She nearly pushes me out the door and leads me to an elevator.

So much has happened in the past two days. My head's spinning.

As the elevator door slides open, I'm greeted by Blaze and his stylist, a tall woman with dark olive colored skin and striking blue eyes. My fellow tribute is wearing just a simple coal miner outfit with black boots. Nothing fancy.

His eyes slightly widen as he lays his eyes on me, but they quickly dart back to the floor. I smirk, then cross my arms.

Seeing this coal mining outfit reminds me so much of home. Of Rowan and Marsh. Father. Even Jade. Then Spruce. Spruce!

That's right! Knowing that he'll be in the chariot directly in front of me brings comfort to my  nerves.

~◆~

"You've got five minutes to get on that chariot," Isobel explains, "District Twelve is the last to go, but don't wait till' the last moment to get on. "

A Capitol attendant calls to Isobel and she adds, "I've got to go. Good luck," And with that she's gone.

I make my way to the front of the chariot. The horses are remarkably trained. The ones for District Twelve are coal black with silky manes. After I pluck a sugar cube from a crate, I hold my hand out in front of the horse. His light pink tongue laps up the sugar and it lets out a slight neigh of delight.

Blaze begins to gently run his fingers through the horse's mane.

With Blaze distracted with the perfectly trained horses, I search for District Eleven's chariot. I spot it a few yards ahead.

He catches my eye as soon as I catch his. He faintly smiles, then points to a stack of hay in the corner of the large room. I nod, understanding.  Wouldn't want anyone to find out that we know eachother.

Making sure no one has their eye on either of us, I quickly slip behind the haystack. Spruce is already there.

We just stand there for a minute, just taking in the moment. His voice breaks the silence.

"Well, isn't this pleasant? You, me, together in the Capitol. About to fight to the death."

I laugh, then he joins in. Of course, none of this is funny. Not one bit. But we're both so nervous it's hard to keep silent.

He wraps his muscular arm around my shoulder, "At least I'll have you with me."

I let out what's between a grunt and a sigh. He's right. If we're going to both be in the Games, we might as well be together.

He takes in my outfit, "You look dangerous. "

I crack a smile. "So do you." I say sarcastically.  He doesn't. Well, his outfit doesn't.  His muscular build and features do.

We lean against the hay, we don't need to talk. Speaking of the past, present, or future hurts. I just lie my head on his shoulder until the announcer, Luccius Pius, says that the chariot rides are beginning. 

My heart drops to my stomach.  Spruce gives me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder and whispers, "You'll do fine."

"Good luck." I reply quietly.

We go our separate ways quickly. Blaze is already in the chariot looking as still as stone. His eyes are fixed ahead, unblinking.

I roll my eyes and step onto the chariot. I yelp as my foot slips. I prepare to hit the ground, but I don't. Sturdy hands break my fall. Our gazes meet for a brief moment. I regain my footing  and clear my throat. How embarrassing.

"Better get your act together before the Games." Blaze says.

I'm about to reply with a stinging retort, but the chariot lunges forward. My fingers clasp the metal bar in front of me. I will not fall. Again.

The opening music thunders and the long line of twelve chariots move along.

Blaze and I stand apart, not saying a word. My heart leaps as we enter the city. I've never seen so many people. Ugly, hideous, strange creatures more like.

They scream excitedly for districts One, Two, and Four. Of course the do. Most likely, one of the tributes will win from one of those districts. Capitol citizens are betting on one of them winning. If I could bet, my money would be on them too.

Six. Eight. Eleven. Then us. They don't scream and shout for us. No, they never do. This doesn't surprise me one bit. They do whisper though. Out of the corner of my eye I see them pointing at me. They're not used to Twelve actually looking presentable- and threatening.

As we enter President Snow's mansion, I notice my face featured on a massive screen. Luckily, I appear to look bored. Bored and deadly.

The Careers are featured on the screen mostly. They look arrogant, strong, and dangerous.  One in particular catches my eye. And I think I catch hers too; she won't stop glaring at me.

  It's the girl from District Four. She's tall, at least twice as big as myself.  She has at least ninety pounds on me. With flowing blonde hair and a sea blue see-through dress that falls to her ankles, I can see why the Capitol is hollering over her. She waves  to them, blowing kisses into the air.

"Show off," I growl. I think I hear a grunt of agreement from Blaze.

The Capitol anthem plays and the chariots make their way back along the parade route to the Training Center.

When we arrive back at the starting point, I receive many glares and glances from my fellow tributes. I almost cringe under all of their stares, but I stay strong and meet their eyes defiantly.  The District Four girl cocks her head and slightly waves. My jaw clenches; she must think I'm no more than a little girl! I sarcastically wave back. She rolls her eyes then whispers something to her district partner.

Isobel is waiting for us. She offers her hand and I grab it and jump off the chariot. Blaze follows more cautiously.

"Nice job out there." Isobel remarks. 

I snort, "All we were doing was standing! "

She shrugs, "Last year we had someone from Twelve pass out on the chariot ride. "

I inhale deeply as I remember. Last year's tributes from Twelve didn't stand a chance. The female was a scrawny twelve year old. I think her name was Cinder. The poor thing couldn't even hold a knife, being her hands were so shaky. I ran in to her once or twice at school. We never exchanged words, just a terse nod now and then. She wasn't in my year anyway. She was slaughtered by a guy from District Seven in the bloodbath. It was really graphic; I shudder at the thought.

The male tribute from Twelve was eighteen. I can't even recall his name. He was dumb enough to actually go for a sword in the Cornucopia. He got a knife in the back and died instantly.

I'm exhausted as we begin to head back to the Training Center. I can feel eyes burning in my flesh. Four. I turn around, and look her in the eye. Because two can play this game, I turn, put on an award-winning smile, then wink. I flip my hair just to add a touch of defiance. 

She narrows her eyes. I realize I'm going to be the first one on her list to go once the Games start.

I smirk. Good then, I think, cause'
you're the first on mine.