One Fell Swoop { A Banana Bus / Hunger Games Story }

Chapter Two - The Train

Although Anthony Chilled had just volunteered for the biggest competition of the nation, he was not met with happy looks. His mentor, a man with blonde stubble and harshly lined features, was glaring at him and his district partner, Steven Ze. His arms were crossed in fron of his chest, swaying back and forth with the movements of the train.

"And why was it," the mentor began coldly, "that you two decided to volunteer for the Hunger Games?"

Steven and Anthony looked at each other before facing the mentor again.

"Well, I think I'm fit enough to stand a fair chance and win. I've been training steadily for these Games, and I know I'm ready," Steven answered proudly, Anthony nodded in agreement. The mentor sighed and cradled his head in his hands.

"First of all, look at yourselves. Neither of you have any muscle mass or agility to fight, or handsome faces to win over sponsors from desperate old women. It's very harsh but it's the truth. District 2 is not happy at this year's tributes, they think you are scrawny, clumsy, and overall lazy. So instead of giving you a comforting pep talk about how you'll smash the competition, I'm giving you a bit a tough love. You will not survive a day out there if you do not increase your fighting and survival skills within the next week," the mentor finished with a sharp inhale, catching his breath after letting out all his anger at the new tributes. Steven and Anthony sat in stunned silence.

'Oh fuck,' Anthony thought, 'maybe I overestimated my abilities. He's completely right, I haven't been training enough to be in these games. What if I have just come here to die?'

"I don't like your mindset, Mr..." Steven countered, trailing off when he realised he didn't have the mentor's name.

"My name is Jason Wick," the man replied, scratching his stubble.

"Mr Wick, have a bit more faith, and yes, I know," Steven continued, holding out a finger to silence Jason, "faith doesn't get you that far when you are dealing with life and death, but there's no need to be so critical from the get go."

Anthony smiled at Steven, he barely knew the boy and he already had a tonne of respect for him. Anthony wouldn't have been able to stand up to an authoritative figure like that. Jason just shook his head, stood up, and moved to another cart, leaving Anthony and Steven alone together.

"Geez, the guy really knows how to ruin a mood," Steven laughed, slinging an arm over the back of the fancy sofa. Anthony chuckled too.

"True, but he does have a point. We have to think about this logically. We might not be as strong as the other districts, so we should focus on building our survival skills to outlive the rest of the tributes," Anthony explained, gesturing his hands for dramatic effect.

"Does that mean we can be an alliance?" Steven asked nervously, looking towards Anthony for approval.

"Hell yeah dude, we'll be the best alliance the Games have got!"

***

Luke Patterson didn't dare make a move. He sat with great posture, casually flexing his arms as their were by his sides. His mentor was investigating him and his district partner, Mark Johnson, testing them to see if they were worthy of her time. She finally took her glasses off and snapped them shut in a black case. Her face was like off milk, like she had eaten a lemon. All pulled back yet wrinkly at the same time.

"Well boys, I've deducted that you stand a fair chance," she said with a stiff upper lip. Luke visibly relaxed alongside Mark. Her eyebrows furrowed at the pair.

"However!" They snapped back up into their rigid posture.

"That does not mean you get to slack off. Being from District 7 is almost as bad as being from District 12. We have had four victors. Ever. So to even be considered for sponsors, you need to always show your best. Stand up straight, keep your chin up, smile, be gracious yet tough. Even wear revealing clothing if you have to, both of you have enough muscle for it. But remember this, the hard work starts now," she concluded. Luke and Mark nodded silently, not knowing what else to say. Her sour composure melted away once she realised she had them in her grasp.