the way things go [s. plinth]

i i i

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"All right, you lot, let's move!" shouted a voice.

Ophelia was instantly alert, wondering what was going on.

The door to the train car was open. A young Peacekeeper was looking in, gesturing for the tributes to exit. Had they picked up the other tributes while Ophelia was asleep? One quick scan of the train car told her they had no newcomers.

How could they be at the Capitol with only twelve tributes? Then it hit her. The only tributes on the train were from the western half of Panem. Another train must have collected the tributes from the eastern side.

Ophelia stood, her back and legs stiff from the long trip. She took her district partner's hand, squeezing it so tightly, that her knuckles turned white. What would be waiting outside of the train car for them?

The Hunger Games weren't broadcast to the districts, so Ophelia didn't know what to expect. All she knew was all twenty-four tributes would be put in some sort of arena with weapons, and only one would be allowed to leave alive. She wasn't sure of what would happen between leaving the train and going to the arena. She hoped she would be allowed to eat before then. She didn't stand a chance, given how much her stomach ached with hunger.

Brandy and Tanner were the first tributes to exit the car. One by one, the others followed. If someone took too long, they were dragged to the platform by a Peacekeeper standing guard outside.

Ophelia and Marcus were the last to exit. Marcus went first, wincing as he landed on the concrete below. He turned around, offering his hands up to help her. Ophelia placed her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself to the ground. It was far from graceful, but at least her ankles were intact. She was beginning to regret her decision to wear her heeled boots to the reaping ceremony.

Ophelia stayed close to Marcus's side as she surveyed the train station. The building was much larger than the one in District Two, but it seemed to have endured a similar amount of neglect since the war ended ten years ago. It was also stiflingly hot in the train station. The translucent paneling of the ceiling allowed for plenty of natural light, but trapped the summer heat.

Ophelia's eyes drifted down to her level. The platform was crawling with Peacekeepers. She could see the tributes from her train car, standing in pairs in her vicinity. There were other tributes there too, from a train car attached to the one Ophelia had just exited. She counted fourteen new faces. At first, she thought she had miscounted, but upon further evaluation, realized there were thirteen pairs of children.

Ophelia's eyes landed on the pair that stood out the most: a boy with blond hair and a red-headed girl. Both were wearing odd scarlet uniforms and matching confused expressions. They scanned the crowd as if looking for someone. The blond's gaze landed on a tribute girl in a rainbow dress. He abandoned his partner and joined the girl.

"Capitol kids," muttered Marcus.

"What?" asked Ophelia.

"Those two in the red," he said.

"Why are they here?" asked Ophelia.

"I don't know," said Marcus. "But I don't like it."

The tributes were shepherded to a truck at the far end of the platform. A Peacekeeper unlocked the chains that encircled her arms. Ophelia winced as she flexed and extended her wrists, observing the red rashes from the metal chafing her skin. She quickly stepped into it to avoid being manhandled by the Peacekeepers. The truck had an open roof and bars extending up the sides to form the walls. It was more like a cage than a truck, which turned Ophelia's stomach, but at least there was fresh air to distract her from the small space.