The Hanging Tree

Chapter Three

I'd never been in one of the trucks that I sometimes saw the Peacekeepers sometimes drive in, much less stood in front of a moving one as it slammed into my chest but I could imagine the feeling must be similar to how I felt now as my shaking legs walked toward the stage.

It was as if I had some sort of plague, the way the kids around me stepped away. Afraid I would contaminate them, too.

I was only faintly aware of the shouting in the distance.

My name, I realized.

Somehow, I managed to ascend the steps to the stage and stand next to Odessa.

Levi stared at me, a spark of recognition behind his eyes.

Kiva winked at me.

I felt nauseous and had to fight off the urge to puke.

I could see Cassia fighting against my father's grip as she tried to break free.

She was shouting my name and I had to look away to keep from crying.

I bit my lip, hard, hoping the pain of it would distract me from the overwhelming urge to start sobbing.

My teeth ripped through the skin and a thin trickle of blood spilled over my lip.

Don't cry, I repeated to myself. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

The hanging tree was off to the side of the stage, out of view of the cameras, so I watched it from the corner of my eye, the sight of the limp bodies hardening my gaze.

The people in the square were silent as they watched me.

Odessa stared at me for a moment and I couldn't read the expression on her before she turned away and called for the standard wave of applause but it was faint and half-hearted.

The solemn sea of faces stared at me. Some in relief, some in pity.

They must know that my name being called was improbable.

But not impossible.

I could see the shuffling near the outer perimeter of the square, where the families wait, as people holding betting slips look dismayed.

Those people aren't upset that I will be facing my imminent death, of course, merely only by the fact that they probably had betted on one of the kids who lived on the outskirts of the district, in the poorer parts, being reaped and therefore, lost money.

As the feeble applause dwindled, Odessa clapped her hand together.

"Now," Odessa said warily. "It's time to select our male tribute."

But I couldn't focus on her as she crossed to the other side of the stage, reaching her name into the glass bowl containing the boys name.

I couldn't hear anything but the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears as I tried not to breakdown.

I hid my hands behind my back so nobody could see how tightly I was clenching my fists.

I thought of Kota's name written neatly on those paper slips and tried to focus on anything else.

Odessa cleared her throat and I could hear her saying a boy's name.

"Cole Aplin."

I was too caught up in relief for Kota that I hadn't realized why everyone had turned to stare at Levi with wide eyes until the boy's name registered in my mind.

He was Levi Aplin's younger brother.

The boy - twelve years old, I remembered - looked just like him, only with softer features, and as he climbed up the steps, I could see him glance nervously toward his brother, who was gripping the side of his chair with clenched fists.