The First Annual Hunger Games (Book 1)

3. The Train

Tullis and my peacekeeper escorts take me to a train. I've never been on a train before, but I've heard the Capitol's trains are ridiculously fast and phenomenally nicer then the cargo trains we use. We climb on board and enter a carpeted hallway that leads to a fancy dining area, Roxen is already here.

He smiles at me, which seems odd until I remember he's in the same situation as me. He didn't sign up for this either. I sit next to him and he holds out his hand. "We were never properly introduced."

I shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Roxen."

"And you, Aldera. What you did for your friend took a lot of guts."

I chuckle. "I didn't feel very brave, but thanks."

"What you feel isn't always the truth," he says.

The door to the room opens and a woman enters. Her skin and braided hair are both very dark, but she smiles when she sees us.

"Roxen, Aldera, this is your mentor, Rye Wildtide. In future years the winners will be mentors, but since it's the first year one has been assigned to each district."

"Yes, thank you Tullis," Rye waves her away and sits across from us. Tullis leaves with a dejected look. "Right, now I want you guys to know that I was assigned to you yes, but I did want your district. You have strong people here, and I don't just mean those muscles you have Roxen. Your people are survivors and that's what you need to win.

"I'm here to help you. I'll help you train and while you're in the arena I'll get you sponsors, but you have to work with me. I'm sure your very scared of what will happen in the arena and I'm here to make it less scary."

"Are you from the Capitol?" I ask.

She nods. "I'm not the same as them though. I've been outside and I've seen things, things that the Capitol hasn't seen," she whispers.

"What kind of things?" Roxen leans closer.

She glances at the door. "I can't tell you, not here at least. But just know that to see those things I had to travel through the wilderness. That's why I'm your mentor, I know how to survive." For someone from the Capitol Rye is very likeable. "Anyway, let's take our minds off all this stress and eat."

She calls for a servant and enough food to feed my family for weeks is brought to the table. Some of the food I'm familiar with but I don't know what a lot of it is and I've never eaten most of it. I pile my plate with as much as it will hold and Roxen does the same.

"Don't eat too much," Rye advises. "You'll throw up. You need to ease your way into this new diet. And I wouldn't get too used to it anyway. There won't be a buffet table in the arena."

I slow down slightly, but I still want to try as much as I can. "Do you eat like this all the time?"

"Most people in the Capitol eat an even grander meal than this for lunch."

The door opens and Tullis walks in. She stops with an appalled look as she takes in the scene. "We're you never taught how to eat properly?" She walks over to the table not waiting for us to answer.

"First, you wait for everyone to be sitting at the table. Second," she grabs my napkin and drapes it over my lap and does the same with Roxen, "napkins are here for a reason. Third, sit up straight and use your forks and knives, not your hands. Shall I go on?"

Rye laughs. "How about we focus on one thing at a time?"

"Perhaps that would be best." Tullis sits next to Roxen with perfect grace.

I sit up straight for her sake, but I give up on using a fork. Finger food is finger food even on a Capitol train. Tullis gives me a disappointed look, but I only shrug. I don't think I could ever have the manners Tullis expects.

"So," Tullis begins, "we will arrive in the Capitol in the evening tomorrow. I would suggest looking at the other reapings to see the other tributes after we finish eating." At least she has some good ideas.

Roxen and I are full before we've finished half the food on our plates. A boy and girl come and clear the food away without saying a word and I wonder who they are for only a moment before we're ushered into another compartment, it has a TV and several chairs and a couch that all look extremely comfortable.

I opt for the couch and want to give myself a pat on the back. It's the most comfortable thing I've ever sat in. I sink right in and the cushions seems to shift around me and protect me. Roxen sits next to me and I can tell he enjoys the same experience.

We watch the other reapings, but no one looks particularly bloodthirsty. A few look like they might have fought in the rebellion. The tributes from two, seven and twelve all look pretty strong. District two is masonry, seven is lumber, and twelve is coal mining; they all have to do manual labor like we do. While we're watching Rye points out potential strengths and weaknesses for each tribute, but I don't remember most, I'm glad she's paying attention though.

When it's over Rye escorts me to my own compartment with a bedroom, bathroom and closet in it. I can't help but awe over it all. This compartment is bigger than my whole house.

"You were the only volunteer," Rye says.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I turn to her.

She shrugs, which is very helpful. "The sponsors will know who you are, it will make you stand out."

"I don't think I want to stand out in the Capitol," I say remembering my brother's warning.

"You will anyway. Everyone from the Capitol looks like Tullis."

"Pale?" I wonder.

She snickers. "No, they dye their hair and skin and have ridiculous surgeries and wear ridiculous things. No one in the districts do that."

"Do you really think we can win?"

She sighs and bites her lip. "We, you shouldn't use we. I think with my help one of you can win."

"Not me though." She starts to shake her head but I cut her off. "Roxen's bigger stronger, he probably fought in the war. It makes sense."

"Aldera." Rye puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'm not going to choose between the two of you. I will fight as hard as I can for both of you to survive, to help both of you as long as I can."

I nod and turn away from her. "I'm pretty tired," I say. "Umm thanks for the chat."

"Goodnight." I hear her close the door.

I open one of the doors and find the closet. I pick some clothes that could work as pajamas and head to the other door. I start to take off my clothes, but quickly shove them back on.

There's a boy in the bathroom, the same boy who served us at dinner. "Sorry," I quickly say. "I didn't know anyone was in here."

He puts the towels he's holding under the sink and picks up his cleaning supplies. Then he stands and stares at me.

"Sorry," I repeat, not sure if he heard. I take a step back to let him out of the bathroom.

He doesn't move though, instead he sets down his things and runs a hand through his brown hair before moving his hands rapidly. He's signing, I realize. I translate in my head, the language coming naturally. I can't speak, he signs. I noticed you didn't have any towels and I thought I should get some for you. Sorry. He stares at me intently to see if I understand.

"It's fine," I sign the words as I speak them. "Why can't you speak?"

I'm an avox. They cut out my tongue as punishment for rebelling. He glances around as if realizing where he is for the first time. I'm not supposed to be here. I should go. He starts to walk past me but I grab his arm.

"What's your name?"

He stares at my hand on his arm. He shakes his head and pulls away from me, leaving as quickly as possible.