❝ never trust a survivor
until you find out
what they did
to stay alive ❞
―Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard
[ the maze runner × the hunger games ]
No one was ever happy in District 12. They were the poorest among the distric...
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THE NEXT DAY, Rosalind and Newt packed their stuff and got ready to explore the arena again. It would be a lie to say the two weren't on edge, but after what had happened the previous morning, who could blame them?
They also desperately needed to find water. Newt's bottle was getting dangerously light, the contents draining quickly as their throats got more and more parched.
The two tributes trudged around the city again, foraging for more hidden chests. By the time it was noon, they'd only found one, which held a set of spare axes, their blades glinting wickedly in the sunlight.
"You can keep half of these," Newt told Rosalind as he handed her a few of the axes.
She shook her head, ignoring the weapons in his outstretched hands. "No, you take them. I know literally nothing about throwing axes."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "Really? You didn't seemed to have any problems throwing knives back in the training centre."
"You were watching me?" She said, tilting her head at him curiously.
He looked away almost instantly, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah. Maybe. Anyway, if you can throw knives, these axes most likely won't be a problem for you. You just need to get used to them."
Rosalind decided to save herself from arguing with him by accepting his offer of teaching her. They hid out in a more secluded section of the city, underneath the shadow of a looming building. Newt taught her the basics of how to throw axes, demonstrating to her the arch of his wrists and the angle as he threw his axe at a trashcan as a target. The blade embedded into the metal surface with a loud thunk, a giant crack splitting across the dustbin.
"You're really good at this," Rosalind commented, giving him an impressed grin.
He shrugged, though she thought she detected a hint of a smile on his face. "I came from the lumber district. Of course I'm good at throwing axes. And my mentor gave me really helpful advice before I got sent up here. If it weren't for Johanna's tips, I probably wouldn't have gotten such a high training score."
"Johanna as in... Johanna Mason? The one who won the games two years ago?"
He nodded. "The girl who acted like a snivelling coward before revealing she was bloody wicked at killing. It's weird to think that she's around our age."
"At least you don't have a drunk grandpa as your mentor," Rosalind snorted.
Great. If the Hunger Games didn't manage to do the job, Haymitch was probably going to kill her after this.
To her surprise, Newt started laughing, his voice dry and hoarse as his chest heaved with ragged breaths. "I just had a thought―since we're both allies now, my mentor and your mentor have to work together..."
