PREDATOR | THE HUNGER GAMES

TARGET THE STRONGEST

The middle districts seemed well enough. Not too strong, but not weak either. She figured they were relatively even in skills. However, the lower districts were meek and obviously afraid. Their terrified faces were plain as day.

"I feel like a prize pig being showcased before the slaughter."

Lara turned her focus to Atlas, who was staring out into the endless rows of the crowd ahead.

"Because that's what we are."

His eyes met hers, piercing her heart with guilt. She didn't mean to be so abrasive, but it was how she handled every issue. He was starting to learn that within the time they'd spent together.

"Come here," he said softly. Her eyebrows quirked as he motioned for her to stand beside him. She tentatively did so, and he took her hand to place it on their horse's mane. He moved her hand to stroke its hair, effectively calming her nerves.

"It's nice, right?" he sighed. A soft smile laid on his face-the most optimistic expression she'd seen since their reaping. "It reminds me of home. Even though we'll probably never see our home again. I know you said we needed to disconnect ourselves-"

"Atlas-"

"No, I know you're right. It's just...I'm not ready to accept that we don't get to go home. We don't get to die on our terms."

She softened, "You still can. One of us could still win and go home."

He scoffed and pressed his lips together.

"When I told you to disconnect I didn't mean it like this. Don't disconnect from hope," she clarified, "It's the only thing we have left."

He solemnly nodded. They sat in silence, stroking the mane of their horses. They wished to stay like that forever, stuck in a time before endless violence would ensue.

"Nine!"

Both of their heads snapped to the call, finding a career saunter closer. Atlas cursed under his breath. Lara rolled her shoulders to stand straighter as the boy stood next to them.

"I'm just checking out the competition," he stated, a smug smirk make its way on his face. His eyes ran over the both of them, specifically lingering on Lara. "I'm Warren, the future victor of the 68th Hunger Games."

She scoffed, "Awfully bold to assume that before it even begins."

She couldn't help the response that slipped out. Atlas looked at her like she was crazy for standing up to a career tribute. If she hated anything, she hated bullies.

"Sweetheart, it already has begun."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

Her eyes narrowed as she took her turn sizing him up. He felt a slight shift in the power dynamic between them, and he jumped to reassert himself.

"I won't bother to learn your name. I doubt you'd even make it past the cornucopia," he spat.

Before she could retaliate, Cal suddenly came rushing in and stood between the two. His brilliant smile brought Warren's eyes to him, but Lara's stayed glued on her enemy.

"Is there a problem?" he asked airily.

Atlas glanced between the two tributes, seeing who would cave. He didn't want to be in the middle of a brawl. Strange thing was, he bet Lara would've come out on top.

Warren flashed his pearly white teeth in a menacingly smile, "I'm just deciding who my first victims will be."

Cal took an indignant step forward to protest the explicit threat. But Lara casually held her hand out to stop him.