𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 ▸ HUNGER GAMES [ 1 ]

SIXTEEN

Our conversation last night in the apartment suddenly springs to mind. "I've got your back tomorrow." He said. But I am not the one who needs eyes in the back of their head. If anything, it will be me shadowing him, picking off those who think they're clever to try and take out the biggest opponent first. None of them will have the time to be sorry. They will be bleeding out on the grass with knives driven through their chests before they get the chance.

Cato gives me a short imperceptible nod, then one back at the cornucopia, which is still counting down. Eighteen, seventeen, sixteen. Almost absentmindedly, I bring my hand up parallel to my ear and swipe it back down through the air, each finger curled into my fist but the first. It's a quarry signal, used back home in 2. When the workers figured the machines were too loud to hear the rest of their crews over, they created a series of hand gestures to dictate different things. It allows for safe communication between teams during mining in the central mountains, and this particular one signifies an all clear. Make the cut on the rock. Or in this case, get those weapons.

It wouldn't mean a thing to anybody outside of 2, but if the cameras are trained on Cato and me right now, his face breaking into a grin as he returns the gesture, I'm sure we've probably gained a round of laughter in the houses back home.

When I turn back to the clock, the final numbers are flashing up. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two.

This is my year.

One.

The gong sounds, and I launch myself off my plate towards the knives. Crashing down on my knees in the grass, I gather up half of them and tuck the others beneath the black material which I now realise is a knife vest. There are probably around fifteen in the pile, but I do not have the time to be arranging them into the designated slots right now. Already, other tributes which are not my allies are reaching the cornucopia, grabbing their weapons and beginning to spread out.

Blades gripped in hand, I stumble to my feet and attempt to locate Cato, but there is so much going on that I have no chance until a few of the other kids are downed first. A couple of metres away, a boy that I seem to have no memory of is fighting with Katniss over a pack. And this may be the only opening I have to kill her.

The boy has to go before I can get to her. I hurl my first knife of the Games, the thrill of adrenaline coursing through my veins as it lodges into his spine. A spatter of bright crimson coats the girl from 12 as he coughs his lifeblood into her face.

My first kill.

I have no time to consider my thoughts on it, because she is making a getaway towards the forest, swinging the bright orange pack she won because of me onto her shoulders. Frustrated, I throw a second knife towards the back of her neck. The trajectory is perfect, and I'm sure it's going to sever her throat, destroy what little fame District 12 have created for themselves so far, when she hoists the pack up to protect herself. She disappears into the tree line with my blade sticking out of her bag.

So, not only have I not managed to kill Katniss Everdeen, I have also leant her a weapon.

The fury of my failure propels me towards the boy to wrench the knife from his back. I wipe the blood on the grass and set my sights on the rest of the tributes. Already a fair few of them are laying dead on the ground, chests opened, and skulls caved in by the blades of my allies. I spot Glimmer first, crouched over the boy from 5 as she drives a long dagger repeatedly through his back. Sprays of bright scarlet coat the ends of her blonde hair as she works. Marvel is rounding on the girl from 3, who is backed up into a chest overflowing with blankets and jute rope. Within moments his spear has pierced her stomach, and she slumps down out of view. Zafira is a few metres away from him, battling another girl tribute I don't remember.