𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭. At least, Sander and I had thought so. The Gamemakers had decided that the sky was no longer a necessity and had tainted the air with thick, black, volcanic smoke.
The jerks.
We found climbing a chore, what with all of the exhaustion, hunger, dehydration, and improper air quality. We were extra slow, too, due to Sander's flayed leg and the deep slice in my shoulder. I could hear Sander breathing heavily as I reached up towards another ledge. I glanced at the older boy.
"Good?" I called. It's all I could force out of my throat. I saw him nod in my peripherals, and took it as a sign that he, too, was having problems with his throat.
We made it to the top, dropping our bodies to the hard, rocky ground. Sharp rocks sliced at my body, but at this point, I was numb beyond my comprehension. Even my mind was having trouble comprehending the smallest of things. I noticed that my eyesight had become blurry, which was too be expected with all of the smoke in the air. I never had great eyesight, anyway.
We laid there for awhile, the only sounds being our breathing and the deep echoes of the volcanoes center below. The heat was much stronger up there, and much more concentrated, as if the particles of the air knew we were suffering. I let out a whiny groan.
I noticed Sander's head turn ever so slightly. "You okay?" he asked. His voice sounded terrible, as if someone had shredded his throat to nothing. I nodded, scrunching up my face.
"I just wish I was home." my voice shook as I tried controlling my emotions.
"Me too." he replied. A tear escaped my eye.
He wouldn't be going home.
***
We managed to stand up. That, in itself, was a miracle. I was astounded at the sheer willpower we possessed. I had never been put in a situation that likened to this, and it startled me at how stubborn I could actually be. I would never argue with Morgan about it again. Or maybe I would, at this point I couldn't say who I would be when this was all over.
"Alana, stop."
Every sense was at attention now. I looked to Sander, who stood, frozen. I followed his gaze.
Bubbles.
They were so beautiful, like a sparkling, silver jewel. Each beam of light reflected off of the round surface, and yet they seemed to be absorbed into the material. I wondered what their purpose was. Being made by the Capitol specifically for the Games meant that they had to be no good, but I found myself drawn to them. It scared me, but the curiosity overwhelmed my senses.
"I know it's stupid, but I really want to touch one." I said. Sander nodded, not sparing me a glance. I gave him a crooked smile.
"Are you agreeing with me, or agreeing that it's stupid?"
He cut his eyes at me, a small smile playing at his own lips. "Both."
"That was easier than I thought." a voice giggled behind us.
We turned, jumping at the sudden presence. There, in all her bloody, dirty glory, stood Opal. I forced myself to breathe. This was it. In the next few minutes, only one of us would be alive.
The odds weren't exactly in anyone's favor.
"Well," Opal said slowly, snaking her hands to her side to pull out a knife. A Kukris. The weapon that had been designed to pull me into the bloodbath. My eyes met with hers. "This should be easy."
The world played in slow motion. I noticed everything. The heat radiating on my left side, coming up from the mouth of the volcano. The uneven ground underneath my feet. The erratic beating of my heart. It all mixed together, slowly, as if my mind couldn't handle processing the information quickly enough. Or wouldn't. I couldn't decide which was worse.
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أدب الهواةAlana Knight thinks that The Hunger Games are simply a game of survival, but she soon realizes that survival is the game of life that Victors come to despise. A HUNGER GAMES FANFICTION |Book 1 of 2 in the EVER IN YOUR FAVOUR series| **UNDER MAJOR ED...