A Perfect Storm (A Fanfiction for "The Hunger Games")

Chapter 5

Lydia frowns at me, but I know her heart isn't really in it when she says, "But you didn't eat."

"I'm not hungry any more." I glance at Aaryn again to see if he looks satisfied, but he isn't looking at me any more. His head is down and his lips are slightly pursed. He looks deep in thought. I will probably never understand his mood swings. Of course you won't, I think. You'll be dead before you get the chance.

But at the end of it all, it's Mykael's silence that bothers me the most. 

***

The elevator is silent for most of the ride down to the training centre, not even the motion of the lift interrupting the tension-filled air. I suppose it's a new technology. Even though I can clearly see through the glass of the elevator that we are moving, I don't feel a thing. And yet, I still feel queasy. This will be our first direct contact with the other tributes. At the parade we were allowed to view safely from our district's chariot, but things are about to get up close and personal. Aaryn told us that this is the most important part of preparation for the games. Not because we practice our skills -- no amount of practice in one week will make us winners -- but because this is the time where alliances and potential enemies are formed. I can tell that even Lydia has the nerves and, although he tries to hide it, Aaryn does too. But the only reason he would ever want either of us to win would most likely be because he doesn't want to train the tributes next  year. 

A "bing" breaks through the electricity around us, signalling that we have reached our destination. When the elevator opens I look back at Sia, who smiles encouragingly at me, and walk out to where the other tributes are gathering. Mykael follows me, but the others stay behind to continue on to another level to socialize with other Capitol people and victors in other districts. It will be Aaryn's job to talk us up, but I'm not sure that I trust him to do a good job. 

It takes five minutes for the remaining tributes to arrive at which a tall woman holding a clipboard looks up from her papers and takes all of us in. When her eyes wander over me, I try to read her expression but her face is a blank slate. 

"Hello, tributes," she says with no warmth in her voice. She's probably trained to show no emotion in her job, if the Capitol people know of such a thing. "I will be discussing the rules of the training centre. It's simple. No maiming or killing. I don't care how much you want to get your hands dirty, save it for the arena. You are free to go to any station you need to and use any supplies at your disposal. Most of you will probably be tempted to go towards the weapons right off the bat. However, the majority of you will die from natural causes. Knowing how to track water sources or even creating a simple fire could mean the difference between life or death. You have three hours. Begin."

I bite my lip and take in my surroundings as all of the others shuffle around me. There are all the weapons that I can think of and plenty others that I wouldn't even know how to use. I notice a climbing station in one secluded corner. A red-haired girl about my age shimmies across a rope bridge and lands gracefully on the other end, looking pleased with herself. I remember that she is from District 7: the lumber district. Rotating my eyes, I find the camouflage station which is basically empty except for one boy who looks to be a few years younger than me. I gulp. That means that he's probably twelve and unless he pulls some surprisingly wicked moves, he'll only be a memory in two weeks.

The boy is painting his arm to blend in with foliage. I can't help but admire the swirling patterns that look so much like leaves and bark that I have to strain my eyes to discover that it isn't. After deciding to approach the station, he turns around and stares at me, apparently alarmed. But the fear evaporates from his eyes when I give him a small smile, even though I know any form of comfort I give to this boy is a deception. It won't spare him in the end.