"Remember, Cas, we're just gonna focus on the basic stuff today. We don't have to worry about the scarier stations until tomorrow. Bobby said most of the tributes go for those right away, anyway, so we should have some space to breathe and figure out what we're doing."
The elevator ride from our ninth floor apartment to the underground gymnasium that harbors all of the training equipment is relatively short, but it feels like it takes ages. Tension hangs in the heavy air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. The second those doors open, we'll be on level ground and at close quarters with the twenty-two other tributes set to compete in the Hunger Games with us. The twenty-two people who want nothing more than to see us dead.
Cas looks like he's having a difficult time keeping his breakfast in his stomach. Rowena woke us up early to make sure we ate enough and got dressed in our training clothes in time to make it to the gymnasium before ten. It was an arduous task to eat with such a little appetite and queasy belly, but we forced just enough down to give us energy to last through to lunch. We're definitely going to need it.
A faint chime rings through the elevator. A small screen above the floor buttons displays the number two. We're getting closer and closer to the underground gymnasium, and with every level we descend, my senses only heighten tenfold. This is the moment. This is where we train for the televised fight to the death. We've reached the absolute point of no return, and I'm terrified to my very core to see what awaits us down here.
The color is still draining from Cas' face. He's managed to keep a stoic expression for most of the morning, but I see it in his eyes, his tightened jaw, his twitching fingers. He's just as afraid as I am, as anyone in their right mind would be.
As the elevator passes the first level, I reach over and gently grab his arm, just above his elbow. His muscles are taut under my grip. "Just stick with me, okay?" I tell him. He flashes me a nervous glance, but only for a fleeting moment. He nods his head and fixes his apprehensive stare back on the closed doors. "Don't be scared. I'll be with you the whole time."
I'm not sure if my words are supposed to comfort him or me.
The underground gymnasium is a massive area filled with various weapons and survival skills stations, not to mention a few obstacle courses here and there. The air is cool and ever so slightly damp, and it clings to my already clammy skin as Cas and I hesitantly step out of the elevator and join the group gathered in the middle of the gymnasium.
Everyone else is here, all twenty-two other tributes congregated together in one tight circle, and the simple act of joining them is enough to chill my blood to ice. Some of them cast us expressionless looks as we approach, while others merely smirk or narrow their eyes. Most of those come from the Careers, the wealthy, strong, extremely deadly tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4. One of them, a sturdy boy much taller than me, is already sizing us up with his condescending stare. I try my best to ignore him, but I can't ignore the awful feeling of his piercing eyes on the side of my face.
I saw it yesterday before the parade, how much taller and stronger and bulkier they all were, but now that we're all in the same training clothes with no makeup and no chariots to separate us, the nausea is starting to take over again. Sure, a decent handful of the tributes are just like us in terms of size and strength—they're probably from the poorer districts like us, too—but my mind isn't focused on them. We're on even playing fields, and I feel okay about that. What I'm worried about are the six Career tributes who will certainly not hesitate to strike us down in a heartbeat. They have the ability to do so, and I know they're not going to let anything stand in their way.
I try to redirect my thoughts for the time being. Frantic stressing won't help me learn new skills. Right now, the head trainer is explaining all the stations, their purposes, and what we're going to be doing over the course of the next three days, and I need to listen.
We're free to roam among the different stations as we please. The experts for each station will remain there and teach us the skills assigned in that specific area of the gymnasium. They range from basic survival skills to advanced fighting techniques. No tribute combat is allowed, but there will be experts designated for partner combat if someone wishes to practice fighting. I definitely don't want to do that. Not today, at least.
Then, long before I'm mentally prepared, we're set loose to begin our training. The Careers instantly swarm the weapon stations. The swords, spears, axes, you name it. They're making it their goal to show off and intimidate everyone else in the gymnasium, and I'll admit it's working on me.
I didn't realize how tense and absorbed in my thoughts I was until Cas taps my arm, and I almost launch out of my shoes.
"Where should we start?" he asks, his soft voice nearly drowned out by the various sounds of sword clashing and spear throwing.
I look around the gymnasium. Most of the Careers are engrossed in their weapons training. A few of the tributes from the outlying districts have gathered at the fire-starting and shelter-making stations. A few more are trying their hand at one of the obstacle courses in the corner of the expansive room. Almost all of the stations have at least one tribute, except for a couple near the knife-throwing station, which is also surprisingly empty. I think those smaller stations are for teaching us about edible plants and insects. Why not start there? Something like that is crucial to survival, anyway.
The trainers seem contented to have students and happily begin to show us lists and photos of edible plants and insects for varying regions. We must spend an hour at those stations, going over the lists again and again, trying to commit them to memory. Cas is much better at memorizing them than I am, and when it comes time for the trainers to give us a quiz on what we remember, he excels, whereas I pass with a decent score but could still use some work. Looks like we know who will be doing the gathering in the arena.
The Careers have switched up their stations, but they're still flocking the weapons and shooting menacing glares at anyone who dares to join them. One of these times, they'll have to give the rest of us a chance at those stations, right? They can't hog them forever.
Cas and I wander over to the fire-starting station next, seeing as the few who were here earlier have now moved on. I know Bobby warned us about making fires, but it wouldn't hurt to at least know how to start one from scratch. It might come in handy.
It takes the two of us a long while to figure out how to make a simple spark, even with the trainer's assistance. Cas is determined, though, and after a taxing round of trial and error, he finally manages to create a spark and a faint fire with both flint and charred cloth. The firelight shines in his eyes as he grins at his accomplishment. So he's incredibly smart and talented at picking up new skills. I return his grin with matching excitement and make sure to give him a high five. He deserves it.
We have time to visit one more station before lunch, so we make our way over to the knot-tying station to learn some basic snares and other traps that could be useful. This one is a lot more difficult than I anticipated. You have to have nimble fingers to tie some of these intricate knots, which I do not. I can manage the bigger knots for certain traps, but creating detailed snares is not my forte. Cas isn't the best at it, either, but since he's slightly smaller than I am, he's able to get a bit further with the snares. I'm sure it just takes plenty of practice. We'll have to visit this station again, because I do not want to eat plants and bugs the entire time we're in the arena.
Lunch is being served in a dining room adjacent to the gymnasium. There are carts and carts full of steaming food, and it appears we serve ourselves. The Careers gather together around one of the tables, talking loudly and clearly flaunting their confidence and sense of superiority. The other tributes all claim separate tables, and much to my relief, there seems to be a table for every district. Good. I'm not quite in the mood to chat with people who will be trying to kill us soon.
Between the rowdy Careers and the dread of being confined in a room with the other tributes, it's a struggle to find topics to discuss. Cas keeps his head down while he eats. On the other hand, I can't stop myself from glancing around the dining room, fearful that one of these times I'm going to lock eyes with someone I don't want to, and eventually, I spot one of the boys from District 1 watching us from his table. His expression is unreadable, but I know he's observing us, trying to study us like lab rats. The glint in his dark eyes makes my breath hitch in my throat.
"So, Cas, you were really good at the plant and insect station," I say abruptly, forcing myself to turn back around. I can still feel that stare piercing into my skull.
Cas takes note of my uneasiness instantly and glances over at the boy from District 1. Nothing must have changed behind me because his gaze plummets back to his plate of food, and he shrugs. "I don't know why, but I've always been good with memorization. Must've started in school sometime." His voice quivers ever so slightly.
"Well, you definitely outshined me," I say with a chuckle, trying to soften some of the tension, and thankfully, he returns it. "Same thing with the fire-starting. Maybe you're a natural-born survivalist and just don't know it yet."
His smile brightens as he thanks me. Then, he peels his gaze away from the table and dares to peek at the District 1 boy again. His perturbed expression is anything but reassuring.
"Is he still staring at us?" I mutter under my breath.
Cas nods, imperceptible to anyone else, but I see it clear as day. "Like we're his next meal," he murmurs.
My heart sinks, but I will myself to ignore the unnerving feeling. We're still in training. We're still safe. The boy from District 1 can't do anything to hurt us yet, and although I'm afraid he might be planning to, there's nothing we can do about it now other than try our best to brush it off and focus on our own training.
Easier said than done, huh?
"Don't let him bother you," I tell Cas and yet again struggle to decide if my words are meant to comfort him or me. "He's just trying to show off. He won't be making that face when he's starving and doesn't know which plants are edible and which ones aren't like you do."
A feeble smile glimmers in Cas' eyes, but it's easy to tell that both of us are shaken up by the Career's intimidating stare.
After lunch, Cas and I try out the knot-tying station again and find ourselves already improving at the more intricate snares. Then we visit the plants and insects station, just to refresh our memories. Cas recalls everything, and surprisingly, I almost do, too. We decide to save another fire-starting attempt for tomorrow.
The first new station we venture over to is the camouflage station. There, the trainer teaches us how to use mud, sticks, plants, and other various things we can find in the wilderness to paint ourselves and blend in with our surroundings. It's a fascinating station, and despite our lack of artistic talent, we still manage to design a rather believable tree bark camouflage on our arms. When we stand next to the fake tree at the station, though, we stick out like a sore thumb, but if it was dark or someone was just blind, I think it would work perfectly.
We're running out of non-combat and non-weapon stations to visit. I want to try out the shelter-making station, but the tributes from District 10 are already there, and they look like they're busy. I don't want to interrupt them.
Across the gymnasium, I spot the slingshot station. That might work for us. Slingshots aren't as dangerous or violent as swords or spears, and knowing how to use something like that might prove to be beneficial, anyway. If we find high ground like Bobby encouraged, a slingshot could be the perfect weapon to have. Shooting from above and disorienting—maybe even harming—anyone who comes our way suddenly sounds like a fantastic idea to me.
It's quite close to the other weapon stations, though, where the Careers are still showing off their deadly skills. They're fairly absorbed in what they're doing, so maybe they won't notice us if we wander over there.
"Stay here for a second, Cas," I say, flashing him a reassuring glance when his eyes widen with fear. "I'm just gonna look at the slingshot station and see if it's something we wanna do. I'll be right back. Don't worry."
I draw a trembling breath as I cautiously make my way to the hazardous side of the gymnasium. The sounds of spears and knives hitting targets echoes in my ringing ears. I don't dare look at any of those Careers, and much to my relief, they don't seem to notice me at all as I peer at the empty slingshot station. It looks manageable enough. Just pull back on the rubber band and shoot the ball at the targets. Easy. We can do this.
I'm just picking up one of the slingshots to weigh it in my hands when I hear an amused voice resonating through the cold air, but the words it speaks makes my stomach drop to my feet.
"Where's your boyfriend, Nine? He finally leave your side for two seconds?"
I whirl around so fast I almost lose my balance. Anger replaces the fear coursing through my veins when I see the boy from District 1, the one who was staring at us at lunch, advancing toward Cas, who's trying his hardest to back away without seeming too afraid.
"He's not my—"
"What's that, Nine? You gotta speak up. I can't hear you."
I don't even bother to put the slingshot back in its proper holder. My blood boils. I storm over to the Career without a moment of hesitation. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" I snap, stepping in front of him and gently pushing Cas aside. Now that I'm standing directly in front of this boy, I see I only come up to his chin, but I'm too furious to care.
"Oh, speak of the devil, and he shall appear!" the boy chuckles, like it's the funniest thing in the world. Which it isn't. "I was just asking your boyfriend where you wandered off to. Just a harmless question."
I'm thrown off guard by "boyfriend," but only for a split second. "Listen, buddy, I'm not in the mood for confrontation right now," I warn, not daring to look away from his intimidating stare, "so how about you walk away and we forget any of this ever happened?"
I've never wanted to take back my words faster than when the boy steps closer to me, narrowing his cold eyes and standing up even straighter than before. He seems to grow a whole foot as he peers down at me like a hungry giant.
"Or what?" he sneers, voice low and threatening.
It's too late to back out now. I look him dead in the eyes and stand my ground, despite all the alarms blaring in my head, screaming at me to run. "Or you're not gonna like what happens next."
I don't know what I'm doing. I've never been in a fight in my life.
Cas grabs my arm, trying to pull me away from the hostile scenario I've gotten myself into. The rational side of me begs me to go with him before I get my nose broken, but the other side of me doesn't want to budge. This Career was harassing him, and he made a horrible mistake by doing so.
The boy scoffs then, antagonistic amusement shining in his gaze. That only irritates me more. "You're bold, Nine, for someone who hasn't touched a weapon all day," he remarks. "You must really care about your little boy toy here—" He suddenly clutches Cas' shoulder and pushes him around, completely ignoring his cries of distress.
That does it.
"Back off!" I yell, shoving the Career away with strength I didn't know I had. My harsh voice doesn't sound like it came out of me at all.
Fury flashes in the boy's eyes. He shoves me back, but twice as hard. I stumble but manage to stay on my feet. He really crossed a line this time.
A chorus of voices, some concerned and some thrilled, echoes in my ears as the boy and I lunge at each other again, pushing and shoving and scratching with rage. He's spitting profanities at me. I'm still shouting at him to back off. Guards and trainers rush to the scene of the fight in an instant, desperately trying to break us apart, while the Careers cheer from the sidelines and the other tributes silently watch in shock and horror.
"You're dead!" the boy shrieks as the guards struggle to restrain him, but not before he gets one last shove on me. He pushes me so forcefully that it sends me tumbling to the ground and knocks all the breath out of my burning lungs. I'm faintly aware of Cas crying out my name. "You're dead, Nine! Both of you!"
My head pounds with every rapid beat of my heart as I watch the boy get dragged away by the guards. He doesn't even look human anymore.
"I'm watching you! You'll be the first ones I get! Just you wait! Just you wait!"
His sinister threat drills into my skull and settles in the pit of my churning stomach long before the guards take him out of the gymnasium. Normal training resumes within seconds, as if nothing ever happened.
I'm not sure how long Cas has been standing there with his hand outstretched, offering to help me to my feet, but I take it without hesitation. The blinding anger that possessed me out of nowhere is slowly melting into paralyzing fear once more as the Career's menacing words play on a loop in my head. It sounded like a promise to me, and a promise like that is bound to be kept.
Cas' hand lingers over my own for a moment longer than necessary, but I barely notice. My vision is spinning. Everything aches. Not even the concern in his bright blue eyes as he asks me if I'm okay can calm my rattled nerves.
We have a lethal Career thirsting for our deaths, and it terrifies me to realize it might be my fault.