Voices of the Dead: A Hunger Games FanFiction ©

7. Flint

“I don’t understand, the tracks were fresh and they suddenly disappeared. Where did they go?” I muttered angrily as I paced back and forth.

Bruno and I had come upon some clues the previous night after watching the house burn to the ground. Our assumption was that whoever had been hiding in that place had been attacked by a pack of mutts since snabbit and kitanger corpses were everywhere around the outer parts. Probably, the fire had probably been used as a means of self defense. 

Tracking the two pairs of footsteps we’d found outside of the burning building, we’d thought we’d ust about had them until suddenly they came to a complete stop, disappearing without the slightest traces. It was infuriating, the thought that another ill-trained tributes had managed to somehow slip by my vigilant watch.

“The tracks stop here, why don’t you take the left and I’ll take the right?” Bruno suggested as he craned his head and scanned our surroundings, “say we meet back here in thirty minutes?”

I nodded and gripped my spears tighter. I would find them, whoever they were, and I’d finish them without second thoughts. Their silly tricks wouldn’t spare them from my wrath.

“Sounds good,” I said before turning and disappearing into the maze of the city.

Lungs burning and adrenaline pumping, I sprinted down the abandoned streets of the arena, always looking for the slightest indications of life. I only stopped when I realize it was about time to start heading back.

Angry and disappointed in myself, I began to make my way back when my alert ears suddenly picked up a noise; footsteps. Had I stumbled upon my preys hiding spot?

Pretending that I hadn’t heard anything, I busied myself by taking one of my spears and polishing the tip on the hem of my jacket. Now aware that I was being followed, I was more vigilant than ever. I could heard the increasingly louder crunch of boot on gravel and knew that whoever it was that was stalking me, was getting closer.

My muscles bunched tightly under my skin as I prepared to turn and lunge at the tribute. I was like a piece of coil, waiting to be released and spring into action. The anticipation was killing me; the footsteps were loud and it almost seemed that whoever was trying to creep up on me was purposely trying to make as much noise as possible.

The moment the footsteps faltered less than a yard away from me, I couldn’t restrain myself; I spun on my heel, spear raised above my head, my body ready to attack with as much force as I could muster.

And then I saw who it was. My grinning younger brother; Ore.

“Some greeting,” Ore said as he took note of the spear pointed at him. “Well aren’t you going to welcome me?”

I dropped the spear and in one swift motion wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Ore! What are you doing here? How, when, why?”

He laughed and hugged me back. “Don’t really know to be honest, I just woke up and a Capitol man told me to go into a clear tube thing, and then I was pushed up here. My guess is I’m here to help you.”

“How long are you staying?” I asked, completely ecstatic at the thought of slaughtering the rest of the tributes with my brother’s aid.

He shrugged and frowned a little. “Sorry, I really don’t know. They didn’t tell me much. I assume a couple of days?”

It was perfect, with Ore at my side, a couple of days would be all I needed. Ore and I had been training as children to fight in the games and we both had the same level of district pride; an innate sense to bring honor to our home no matter the cost.