Caught in the Crossfire

Chapter 1

It always happens around this time of year.

My eyes are glued to a television screen as the countdown begins. Twenty-four people stand on podiums, surrounded by wintery forest and mountains. Awaiting their deaths.

“Here it comes,” Electra says beside me.  

Xavier sighs loudly. “Happy Hunger Games.”

“And may the odds be ever in your favor,” I reply.

Yes, we watch the Hunger Games here in District 13. How can we not, when it’s our fault the Treaty of the Treason was signed? We used to be massive; but now, thirty years after the rebellion, our population is small enough that we can all fit inside our five hundred square-foot commons area. This is where we eat, catch up on the latest Panem news, and listen to my mother speak. My mother, Isolde Coin… I guess you could say she’s the President of District 13. Yeah. No big deal.

She stands to address the district before the countdown finishes; her silver hair tied back, her cheeks wrinkled with sternness.

“And why are they forced to endure this?” she asks.

“Because of us,” we all say.

“Never forget that, District Thirteen. We’re the lucky ones, in my opinion. Be grateful that we survive and thrive, without worrying about our children being sent to die. Out there is pure chaos.” With ten seconds left on the countdown, she straightens her military suit. “Watch and see what we’ve done to them.”

“Let the bloodbath commence,” I whisper to Electra. My twin sister cringes, squinting. She’s much more squeamish than I am.

“Tell me when it’s over, Alma.”

I snap my fingers in front of her face. “Better not let Mom catch you with your eyes shut or you’ll be on sentry duty again…”

“Ugh. You always pull that card because you know I hate going up there,” she says.

I can count how many times I’ve seen the sun on one hand. Every person’s done sentry duty at some point; watching for possible invasions, gathering anything salvageable that remains of the bombings; and the occasional refugee.

Xavier, who sits on my other side, is a prime example. Mom thinks he originates from District 13 just like us, and that he lived amongst the rubble. Those are the only refugees she’s interested in housing.

He’s actually a citizen of District 12. And so, so, so extremely handsome, I’ve gotta say. When I first saw him, his olive skin tone didn’t equal my impression of what District 12 people look like; still, he says his old neighbors were just as tan. ‘The Seam’, he called his home. Compared to him, my skin’s as white as chalk. He wears his brunette hair down to his chin. 

“Fresh air is exactly what you need,” he tells Electra.  

“It’s not that I hate the outdoors,” she argues. “It’s the danger… We get Capitol hovercars above once in a while; most of the buildings that still stand are loose and could fall on you; oh, and did I forget to mention the radioactive zones? They’re everywhere.”

“Put it in perspective, Electra. We’re not the kids who are about to kill each other,” I remind her.

Just as I say this, the Hunger Games takes its first tribute; a girl, dead from a knife in her back.  

Xavier sighs. “I knew her.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply softly. My fingers tap his knee briefly, and he doesn’t shirk me off. Instead, our eyes connect. He has a unique condition that colors one iris brown, and the other blue. I’d be lying if I said they didn’t enchant me.  

“Look at them,” he says, nodding back to the screen.  Tributes are murdering one another with sick precision. “Animals.”

“Well, they don’t exactly have a choice,” I say.

“I know. But that’s not how I’d try to win. I’d fight only if I were attacked.”

“Which they all have to do, eventually,” Electra points out. 

Blood starts dripping down her nose. She wipes it away quickly, but there’s no denying what I just saw.

“You’re getting sick,” I say.

“No, it’s nothing.”

Yeah right. That was how it began for our older brother, Jason, and our father, Theseus. They both died of a terrible disease, which spread around District Thirteen like wildfire.  A downside to living underground. No cure was perfected until Electra and I were thirteen.  Unfortunately, Jason and Dad had already passed away. Jason was only sixteen. A year younger than I am right now.

I don’t feel lucky to have survived.

Onscreen, the snow-covered arena is now tainted by ten mutilated bodies. I can’t tell if all of them are dead yet; but ten cannons tell me otherwise. That bloodbath took just under five minutes.

It’s time for tributes to settle down and save their energy, because the next trial could come sooner than they think. Some form alliances; some run off by themselves.  I’m kind of interested in the guy from District Six: Titus. He single-handedly killed three tributes, wielding a scythe like Captain Hook uses his prized hook hand.

The TV suddenly goes blank. Mom holds the remote, waiting for our attention.

“Listen, everyone,” she says. “While nothing major’s happening onscreen, I need to make an announcement.

“For the past thirty years, we’ve maintained a peaceful existence. We’re just coasting by. How, may I ask, can we learn our lesson, when the rest of Panem has to pay the price year after year? It’s true, we were bombed; our homes were completely obliterated; thousands of people died. But I’ll confess to you upfront: I don’t think it will have any impact on our future generations.”  

“Oh no,” I whisper.

Wow, am I nauseous all of a sudden. The muscles in my body are tightening like weights. I hate where this is going…

“We should’ve been included in the Hunger Games. District Thirteen needs their own yearly reminder; their own tradition. The Council and I have developed a perfect solution, which is going to start when the Hunger Games are over.

“I call it Thirteen’s Battle. Every boy and girl, from the ages of twelve to eighteen, must submit their names into a drawing. I’ll select two boys and two girls. Each competitor will face off in a battle with their own gender; Boy versus boy and girl versus girl. The victors will be given extra food for their families, and they’ll get brand new suites.

“But, like the Hunger Games, Thirteen’s Battle isn’t just for bragging rights. This is a fight to the death. One boy and one girl will die.”