Hunger Games Anthology

Lark: Part 3

"It's almost time." My stylist's voice bounces off the walls of the underground chamber we're in.

I nod and walk over to the metal plate that will bring me up into the arena. I'm not as scared as I thought I would be, right now all I can think about is what the arena will be. The anticipation and curiosity is blocking everything else out.

The stylist adjusts the sleeve of my jacket, a dense but breathable fabric, and looks up at me, "Good luck."

A glass cylinder lowers over the plate I'm standing on and the plate starts to move upwards, up to the games and the violence that's about to take place.

The first thing I register is the cold.

Before my eyes even have time to take in my surroundings I'm shivering through my jacket. The nights here are going to be horrible.

I look around. It's incredibly bright, with the sunlight bouncing off the layer of white snow blanketing the ground. We're in a clearing, arranged in a circle around a huge pile of weapons and supplies, scattered on the snow covered ground. Directly behind me is a giant frozen lake, I know this is immediately a cause for concern for many of the tributes who haven't dealt with snow before. They'll be concerned where to find water when it's all frozen. Encompassing the lake and the clearing we're all arranged in is a large, dense forest, slowly creeping up mountainsides in every direction.

We're all situated by the lake in the clearing of the forest, giving us a view of the forest and mountains. It's a shame that such a beautiful place is about to become a graveyard.

As my attention is pulled back to the voice echoing around the area, I pay attention to the countdown. 40 seconds left. I need to come up with a plan. Running away without grabbing anything to help survive this harsh environment is a death sentence. I'll need to run in to grab supplies and get out of there before it turns into a bloodbath.

I quickly scan the supplies, mostly hats and gloves on the outer edges, then sleeping bags and pots, then backpacks, and finally, spilling out of the cornucopia are weapons. Piles of weapons. Of course there's a few weapons scattered throughout the supplies, but nothing like the ones in the center. Although having those weapons would provide me with a great advantage, it's too risky to try to run that far in.

20 seconds left. Suddenly I wonder where Huck is. I briefly look around the circle and find him almost directly across from me. He looks up from examining the Cornucopia and meets my eyes. We stare at each other, and although we're far apart, I'm pretty sure I see him nod his head the way he did when we met in the woods on the day of the reaping. It means the same thing it did on that day: good luck.

10 seconds left. I shift my gaze to stare directly at the pile of supplies I'm aiming for. There's a few backpacks close together, I figure I can run in and grab one as fast as possible.

3...2...1.

I'm running before I even acknowledge it. Most everyone is sprinting straight for the Cornucopia and I'm dodging other tributes to reach the backpack I want. The backpack I need. I'm faster than most of the others but a quick glances up reveals that I can't outrun the Careers. They'll reach the weapons in a few seconds.

I hear a scream but there's no time to look to see who the first victim is.

One of the backpacks is almost within reach. Still sprinting I reach out for it and just as my finger brushes against the fabric, a girl next to me, apparently aiming for the same bag, knocks me over. She quickly scoops up the pack and runs into the forest.