𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 (𝑇𝐵𝑃)

Chapter Three

Turns out, rock walls are very much different from trees.

With trees, it's very three dimensional. I can manoeuvre every which way, moving around the tree to find a better climbing point, or even using neighbouring trees if they're close enough. They're much easier to navigate, and much more forgiving on my hands.

Rock walls? Not so much. It's all flat, only one plane that I can move across. Significantly fewer options to choose from. Plus, my fingers hurt like a bitch- the rock hurts my hands as I climb.

It's different, but that doesn't mean I'm not good at it. Once I get used to it, I can still scale the wall faster than anyone else who tries. Once I'm at the top, I sit down with my feet hanging over the edge, staring at the distance I just covered. I'm hooked into some sort of pulley system, so I can't fall, not even if I tried. I don't really care- I'd be fine without it.

I like being up high. I can see everyone from here, and if I had my bow? Oh, it'd be game over. It would be like playing a game from up here.

So, on the second day of training, I do the same thing. I skim through some survival stations and do some climbing. I want to do weapons, so I practice throwing a spear around. I'm not bad at it as long as the target's close enough- I can't get a lot of distance with my throws, but my aim's not bad.

Eventually, as day two of training dwindles, more and more people have moved to survival stations, having already physically exerted themselves at the weapons. I want to try my hand at throwing knives. I've used knives plenty back in District 12 and would spend time lazily throwing them at trees, but I've never done it properly with targets.

When I stroll over, Millie's there. I haven't talked to her since that elevator ride yesterday morning, and I'm content for it to stay that way until Millie says, "Finally trying a weapon?"

"I threw spears," I dismiss, picking up a set of knives.

"Ever used these before?" She asks mockingly. She throws; the knife hits the dummy in the chest. Not bad at all. "Or do you need a lesson?"

God, if only I could drive one of these into one of her eyes. Frustrated, I pinch the blade of the throwing knife between my thumb and forefinger. When I was thirteen, I watched the Hunger Games with rapt attention as one girl won it all by expertly killing her opponents with throwing knives. I watched in awe and tried to recreate her throwing style on my own in the woods.

For a second, I consider not doing this. I've been trying hard for an 'I have nothing to prove' kind of attitude. And I'm right, I've got nothing to prove- but I'd really like to see Millie shut up for even just a second.

Fine. Fuck not biting on this shit.

I pinch the blade hard, line up my hand, and throw.

The blade hits the target, striking somewhere in the midsection. Not bad. "I think I'll be okay," I mock, glaring at Millie.

Millie shrugs. "Lucky shot."

Lucky shot? So much for holding back.

I've got three more knives, and I throw all three of them as fast as I can. By some miracle, all of them stick- I knew I was decent at this, but I do tend to mess up from time to time- with one lodging in the torso next to my first one, another hitting the arm, and by some miracle, the third one hitting the top of the dummy's head.

I shoot my hardest glare at Millie. "I think I'll be okay," I say to her gaping jaw. "Maybe you want lessons instead?"

There's a huffed laugh from behind us. Both Millie and I turn to see none other than Robin leaning against the nearby weapon rack, smirking. Some of the other Career tributes are there as well, watching me. Some of them even look mildly impressed.