9. One Simple Instruction

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I don't eat much for lunch. Some of the other tributes can't say the same. I see the boy from Seven vomit on the floor after he takes a hit to the stomach.

I decide to learn something new, so I head over to the knife station. Axes are easy for me, although they aren't all that different to knives. The instructor breaks it down for me, and teaches me all sorts of combat manoeuvres. I'm reasonably flexible, so it isn't too hard to complete the basic moves. The instructor sees this, and begins to teach me some of the more complicated moves. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Careers watching me. Some of them have smiles on their faces, and some others are studying me with set mouths. All of the, however well they try to hide it, look mildly impressed. I take this as a small victory. I've followed Tule's advice, and showed the Careers that I can handle myself.

After a while, I decide to move on. I go to the fire-starting station. One of my older brothers were always home before I was, so the fire was always lit. When I did have to light it, I was dependent upon matches. When I'm freezing in the arena, I'm willing to be I won't have matches. The girl from Ten is there, trying to start a fire with scraps of metal shrapnel. I'm handed the same, and a pile of dry wood and grasses. The instructor shows me how to do it, and I spend twenty minutes coaxing a flame out of the metal. I then move onto other materials, and spend the rest of the day perfecting my technique. All of this time, I'm thinking of Hadrian and Gladius. I see them both moving among the combat stations. Both of them are powerful enough to be useful allies, so they'll easily be able to convince someone who has spent the time in the survival stations to ally with them. At least, Gladius will. Hadrian is a Career, which makes him part of an elite pack. The gather supplies early in the Games, scaring off the other tributes at the Cornucopia. People like me are lucky to grab a weapon and backpack, let alone the supplies the Careers have. They collect most of the food and fire-starting supplies, and often set up their camp near a source of fresh water. It's almost too easy for them to survive, which gives them plenty of time to hunt down the other tributes.

Gladius is hanging around a lot with the District Five tributes. Are they going to be allies? The boy is a couple of inches shorter than Gladius, but just as stocky. The girl is slight, but I've seen her with a knife. The three of them would put up a good fight, even against the Careers. I suddenly regret helping Gladius. He'll handle himself just fine, and he's being friendly towards the other tributes. I've already distance myself, and while tender alliances are being formed, I'm keeping away.

Around the other tributes, Gladius is very open. But near me, he emits an uncomfortable vibe. He's trying to be as distant as possible. Is it because he is reluctant to kill me? Or maybe he's trying to appear uninterested, but is planning my demise? No, I don't think it's the last one. This may be a game of kill or be killed, but tributes generally try to avoid the people from the same district. How would it look if they won?

Just because Gladius probably won't kill me, it doesn't mean that the rest of the playing field will be reluctant.

Tule's warned me over and over about the Careers. They show off their skills and scan the room, picking out the weak tributes. The tributes from Two, the boy with red hair that now looks more auburn, and the girl, look to be the leaders of the Careers this year. The very same tributes that pointed me out.

Hadrian looks to be giving them a run for their money. His body language tells me he isn't content being just a member of the Career pack. Perhaps Hadrian and I do have one thing in common; we are both leaders. He might get his way eventually.

The Careers are all experts around weapons. But none of them are agile like Hadrian. His movements look smooth and natural, instead of the brute force the others put behind theirs. Hadrian's fighting style is beyond elite, with perfectly placed blows.

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