Of Victors and Tributes

Part 2: The Contenders

Chapter 10: The 68th Hunger Games

One minute, 60 seconds, that's how long I have to wait. It should give me time to get a hold on my surroundings, to identify who's beside me and where my allies are. Unfortunately, something isn't quite right. Usually, Claudius Templesmith would be announcing the countdown around us, but I don't hear anything. I touch my pocket watch. That means that there must be a clock somewhere. Afraid of an unfair advantage? They should be! But before I can pull out my watch, there is a massive noise that shakes the ground and several tributes jump, almost falling.

Someone across from the Cornucopia has fallen off their pedestal to their death, or perhaps stepped off. Well, by the amount of chunks and blood raining from the sky, two people did. I guess that it's because of the fact that there is no time being announced and they thought we could step off right away. Or they just wanted it to end before it began. I bite my lip and look anywhere besides where these tributes exploded. And I find it. In front of us lay a few bridges, some being extremely thicker than the others, but every tribute has one between the other. The reason we would use the bridges? There's a bright orange fire blazing beneath them, separating us from the Cornucopia. And in red numbers, there is a countdown barely showing through the tongues of orange. Just in time, too.

Three seconds left.

Some tributes are holding their hands over their mouths, blood that isn't theirs dripping down their faces. They would probably throw up if they weren't afraid of being blown sky high.

Two seconds left.

There are only twenty two tributes left, and the Games have yet to start. I work hard not to throw up just like everybody else is doing.

One second left. And the timer disappears.

Some of the tributes are frozen in place, others only stumble forward to fall over and barf. Not me. I want to fall to my knees and scream and cry, but I can't. I manage to orientate myself and start running to the first bridge I can get on. Only a few other tributes have awoken from their daze and started to get moving. I turn my head wildly, heart jumping and blood pumping, preparing for an attacker, but they aren't focused on me. They're focused on the Cornucopia.

The fire beneath me burns unnaturally hot and I catch someone being pushed over into the pit. I look behind me and see the vague figure of another tribute joining me on my bridge, but it's too late for them to push me over. I've already made it to the emerald green grass that means safety. Well, not safety. Weapons and food and protection. I don't stop running and slide over to the things that have been laid out around the Cornucopia. I can't go right in it, but I'm just outside of it. I've made it here first, but will I be able to fight my way out and stay alive?

I don't have time to choose what I want carefully. I'll leave that to the Careers. I take a large, black pack that is filled with who knows what and I lunge forward to grab a silver sword, flames reflecting off the surface. I'm so lucky. So lucky that it's almost like it was placed there for me, but I know it wasn't. Swords are almost always around. I just managed to be average. I spin around, slightly prepared, but realize that I'm not as lucky as I thought.

I need to make my escape and look for the others, but I can't. The Careers have set in, and they aren't pleased that I've grabbed a weapon and a large bag that must have some good things inside of it. The boy from District 1 jumps at me, and before I can even think I swing my sword. He shouts, and knowing that I hit him I can begin to move.

The bag hangs loosely on my shoulders, bouncing against my back, and I clutch the sword in my hand. I spot Vestia standing with her own pack a little bit away and my heart lightens as my eyes widen. She didn't come all the way in, but she managed to get something. I wave her away because people are still running across the bridges and I want her to have a head start, but she doesn't move until I reach her. I manage to clasp my fingers around her wrist when the knife whizzes past me.