Hunger Games (DNF)

Part 2, Chapter 23: the escaped tribute

First chapter of Part 2.
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George POV.

All that I remember was running, as I was dodging and ducking and weaving between the trees outside of the arena. Peacekeepers were yelling to each other all around the area as they tried to find me, but none of them could get me.

I stayed huddled up in the bushes where I was, not daring to move because I knew that would be a death sentence if I got caught. For hours I just sat still like a statue. My arm was still injured, the flesh tattered over part of my right arm was raw and red. With nothing better to do I examined the tracker and saw that it was destroyed, meaning I was untraceable.

Half a dozen hovercrafts flew into and out of the dome-shaped arena over the next hour. I assumed that they had taken the tributes or something. They had probably been rounded up so they couldn’t try and escape like I did.

But I couldn’t help but wonder about Clay. Did he, and all the other tributes, get taken back to the Capitol and killed, or maybe they were sent back to their home Districts, or maybe they were turned into avoxes.

I hoped it wasn’t the first one, or the third one, Clay as an avox would be horrible, his beautiful skin and eyes would darken after spending days inside cleaning, and his amazingly sweet voice would be gone. Wait. I keep forgetting, Clay is bad. Clay hurt Darryl.

For about 2 days I sat there, starving to death as the peacekeepers continued the search for me. They must have given up after that, they probably had figured that I had left the area, probably was trying to head back to District 3.

The thought of District 3 made me feel guilty. Surely they wouldn’t know that I escaped right? I doubt that the Capitol would have shown that, especially to the Districts. What about Wilbur though? I’ve heard that the Capitol will torture people as a way of getting others to turn themselves or others in… surely they wouldn’t torture my brother… right?

I looked around as the peacekeepers all began heading to trucks to be driven back to the Capitol, sending dust into the air as they drove along over a dirt road. I listened quietly as the cars drove off but didn’t move until there was only silence.

I stood up and stretched, feeling grateful to finally move after having to sit in the same small area with little movement for the past 2 days. Several peacekeepers were still at the arena, probably to do a final sweep and round up the weapons.

After the games people from the Capitol can come to the arena for vacations, they’ll be able to see where we’ve been and watch and interact with actors recreating fights. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had actors recreating Clay killing Darryl then me finding out.

That was, if the Capitol even decided to let people remember these games. Losing a tribute isn’t something that the Capitol would probably pride itself in reminding people. I’ve heard of a couple of other times that the Capitol covered the games up, the most memorable being when 10 tributes had died before the games even began, during the 10th Hunger Games.

Another reason they wouldn’t want to remind people is because it shows the Districts that we could outsmart their games, and that embarrassed them. A boy from District 3, managing to sneak out of the arena of the games.

That’ll be high up on the list of tributes that got their family screwed over, including a girl who snuck poison into the arena to kill her enemies. Another girl who killed her district partner the night before the games. A boy who used the force fields bounce-back abilities to kill tributes. And the all too familiar story of Katniss Everdeen who pulled out berries from her pocket and got 2 winners in the Hunger Games.

As I walked I thought about all of these things, all the terrible things that could happen to my friends and family (well mainly to my brother Wilbur) for my ‘act of rebellion’, as the Capitol would call it. I walked along the treeline, following along the dirt road from out of sight, hoping that it would get me somewhere interesting that wasn’t the Capitol.

Wilbur POV.

The green mutts were in the arena, I watched the screen as they took out 2 boys from District 1 in a large explosion. After seeing George getting chased by one of these things earlier I was feeling even more worried, seeing their terrifying skills.

I sat on the edge of my wooden seat in the rundown kitchen of Niki’s house. Sweat was rolling down my face as I saw my brother running before climbing up the tree. The sweat was making my hands clammy and I could barely hold anything to try and calm myself.

The screen then shifted to show a trio of boys, huddling in a cave. 2 were holding each other and looking nervous while the third was watching the movements of the mutts from between the gap in the rocks. It only stayed on these three for a few moments, then it moved over to another tribute.

A boy with red hair was dodging between the trees, managing to run in between the groups of mutts which were trying to trap him. His actions, weaving between trees, reminded me of the foxes that live on the edge of the District.

Several of the green mutts blew up in a bright light, but the red haired boy managed to avoid all of them before making his way to the river and diving into it. The creatures watched him from the bank, but it seems that they couldn’t go into the river after him.

Niki came back and sat beside me, passing me a glass of water which I held shakily, feeling like I was going to drop it. The camera cut back to George, he’d climbed the top of the tree and was staring down the creature. It zoomed in on the mutt before we saw it start glowing again.

The creature disappeared in an instant as the ground shook slightly. My brother stared down from the tree at the crater, but his eyes widened when the tree started to topple. He jumped at a nearby tree and clung onto it as the tree fell against the forcefield, sending electricity through it before it fell to the ground, smoking slightly.

The falling tree knocked a panel out of the arena but before anyone could even process what it was the camera moved again. To the asshole from District 4, the one who killed Darryl. He was walking through the forest, around the same area that George had been.

Clay was calling out to him. Begging him to come out as he yelled out how he was sorry. A few moments later the signal cut out, instead showing Caesar Flickerman sitting at a booth and looking towards the camera.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he started, reading a piece of paper he had just gotten handed. “Due to an unseen incident the games have been stopped. All of the tributes are currently being rounded up, and they should continue in the game on an unspecified date.”

There was a live audience in the room he was talking and you could hear a surprised and nervous murmur sweep through the crowd. What event could have caused the games to end so abruptly? There was rumoured to be a storm in the area where the arena was but they have played through bad weather before…

Several more ideas were passed around in the studio that you could hear, but Caesar caused the crowd to quieten as he spoke again. “The game makers have chosen not to reveal what happened, but they said for a few weeks the tributes will be kept in the Capitol, then they will decide what to do with them.”

Immediately I worried about George. He might be killed in the Capitol, or he might be sent out of the arena and then immediately sent back in. Whatever happens I doubt they’ll tell the districts until it does happen.

I let out a pathetic sigh and curled up on my chair, worried about what was going to happen to George.
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1409 words.