Flooding Panem: The Hunger Games

Chapter Twelve: Running

The sun bounces off the frosted grass that covers the ground, and I'm about the recoil, but I remember just in time that if I set foot on the ground then I'm dead. Around me, I can see others doing the same. I turn my head to look at the woodland-

Boom.

A greater light flashes, and I come close to falling right off my plate. When the spots fade, I look across the ring of tributes to see one empty, smoking plate. A cannon fires.

That's it. The first death of the Games.

I hold back a gasp, focusing on the Cornucopia and not the blood stained ground around it. Weapons- the good ones- are only piled near the middle, and while I'm a quick runner, I have no intention of killing or being killed today. Food and water skins are scattered around the outside, and some backpacks. Around us are mountains, woodland, and a river that cuts through the frozen grass like a blade of ice. I can't head out across open ground, I'd be too much of a target.

So it'll be into the woods. And run.

I have no clue how long we've got left until we can move; the people around me are in similar states if panic, thank goodness. I can't run for the woods behind me; chances are the people near me will do that. There's only one route that will guarantee not running into anyone, and that's by going behind the Careers.

We wait for the trumpets. And they sound.

Everyone's running in different directions, but I don't have the time to watch them- I'm running through the bitingly cold air towards the now empty plates that held Jupiro and Laurel. I stumble over a loaf of bread, landing on my hands. Somehow, I manage to get back on my feet, grabbing an apple as I do. But it's not enough- about five metres from one of the plates is a dark green bag, so I run for it. As I lean over to grab it, I feel something fly by just above my head. I stand up in shock: Satin is throwing knives in every direction, not bothering to see what she hits but still catching tributes on the brink of entering the woods. Had it flown lower, one of those knives would have been the death of me, but instead is now stuck in a tree. The District Two girl- Laurel- is targeting any tributes skirting the edges of the circle with an axe half her size. Tributes lie on the ground dead, blood still flowing from fresh wounds. I recognise the boy from three. His name was Marcus.

Turning my head from the nightmare, I run for the trees, stopping to yank out the knife. As I move off, I slide the knife into my belt and shove the apple into my pocket. I know I should conserve my energy and slow to a power walk, but I can't bring myself to do it.

The woods themselves are bare. The trees are empty of leaves, fruit, anything. There are some bushes scattered around, but they're few and far between. The grass under my feet has completely frozen over, and every step makes a soft crunching sound. Above me, the sky is a crisp, brilliant blue, and the sun is shining coldly down, but after running for so long, I'm warm enough. Except for my nose- that particular extremity is numb at the moment. A soft breeze is stirring up small piles of snow and ice on the ground.

I don't know how long I keep running and sprinting and walking for- a few hours at least- but sometime during the trek, I pause when the cannons begin to fire. One... Two... Three... On and on up to eleven. Including whoever stepped off the plate, half of us are gone. Suddenly I'm sprinting through the woods again, trying to avoid slipping on any patches of ice the Gamemakers have hidden for fun, trying to avoid getting caught by any tributes that I know aren't here.

When I eventually stop I collapse against the tree from exhaustion. I look back in the direction of the Cornucopia- who's dead? Whoever stepped off their plate, for sure. Marcus will probably be the first face in the sky tonight. I doubt that Marvel would've been killed, he'll have hit first. Rosalina has more sense than to stick around that war ground, she's bound to be alright. I don't know how far I am from it, but hopefully far enough for a rest. So I start to go through my pack.