May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor

Chapter Eleven

I wake when Sug enters my room, throwing back the blanket and scrambling out of the bed.  It's still dark out and I'm handed a simple dress as Sug explains that I'll be dressed in the catacombs, and even he doesn't know what the Gamemakers have decided to dress us in.  I slip on the dress without question and am escorted to the roof.

A hovercraft suddenly appears and I shrink to Sug's side, but he pushes me forward as a ladder comes down.  I reach up to climb it and I'm stuck, frozen and scared.  I try to scream, but I can't move anything as I'm pulled up.  Lying on the floor I watch as a man in a white coat kneel next to me.  He's holding a syringe and when he sees the fear in my eyes, he tells me it's a tracker.  It's injected into my arm and I'm released from the ladder, where I sit and rub my arm, gritting my teeth in pain.

When Sug is pulled inside, he helps me to my feet and we follow an Avox to where a beautiful table is set out.  I collapse into a chair, shivering and glaring daggers until I get a few sips of coffee into me.  After that I slowly eat a roll with butter, not wanting to eat too much.  It isn't enough and I find myself attacking a plate of eggs eagerly.  I stop when I feel full and sit back, sighing contentedly.  I fall back asleep in the chair, and wake when the hovercraft touches down and Sug shakes my arm roughly.

Sug leads me to the room as I rub the sleep from my eyes and push the notion of getting anymore away.  I wouldn't be sleeping for a long time, and probably not well.  The room I'm brought to is brand new, and I know I'm the only one who has ever been here, and ever will be.  Every arena is built fresh for the next set of tributes, in a new location every times.

I don't shower, but I do unbraid my hair and shake the tight curls to soft waves and tie my hair into a high ponytail.  I am pleased when Sug pulls my ring out of his pocket, and I slip it on with a sigh of contentment, kissing it gently.

When my clothes arrive in a black bag, I can see D1-G marked on the bag.  Sug opens it, looks and then looks to me.  He pulls out what looks like a strip of fur and tosses the bag aside.  When he tosses the handful onto the couch, I see why he's so aghast.

It is fur, and not much of it.  Enough to cover my breasts in a strip, a fur bottom that looks no bigger than underwear complete with tail, and a short cloak clasped at my throat with a fox's head to top mine.  And of course fur wristbands and leg covers.  I'm thrilled when there's no shoes, though Sug tsks and walks away as I slowly begin a slow and stretching dance, flowing into katas.

I'm a fox.  My dream pops into my head for a moment, then I shake my head.  My work out will give me the energy needed to get the first bit over with.  "I think they took me too seriously," I say, when I finish, taking the small towel Sug hands me.

"Do you have a plan, Chise?" Sug asks, lounging on the couch.

"Always," I say, turning to smile at him.  "However, I'm hungry again.  Think we can get a bowl of fruit?  Whole fruit, not the chopped up kind."  When the bowl arrives I'm happy to see they have tiny oranges.  I pick one up and glance behind me at Sug.  He's looking around, not paying attention.  Thinking quickly, I stuff one of the oranges between my breasts and pull the fur to cover it.  Taking the bowl over to the couch, I pick grapes off one by one and pop them into my mouth as I sit and tell Sug about the fox dream I had.

He thinks it's strange, but reminds me that it's not the first time I’ve been called foxy, and it must have stuck in my head.  He said dreams were for people who could afford to sleep; I think he sounds tired.

I think he's wrong, but croon what a dream his life must be then.  We wait in silence until a woman enters and tells me it's time.  I'm filled with initial dread, but I slowly stand and walk myself to the launch plate.  Sug tells me I'm going to be great, kisses me good-bye and I'm trapped in a glass cylinder.  I give him one last look before the tube starts to rise and I'm engulfed by the darkness.  I cry, knowing no one can hear me, and I hold myself, trying not to give into my fear and then I'm in the sun and fresh air.

We're greeted by the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the announcer.  "Ladies and gentlemen, let the forty-second annual Hunger Games begin!"

We're in a field, and as I look around, I slowly count down from sixty.  The plain looks endless, even though beyond the Cornucopia in the distance I can see mountains.  Looking around I find a tree line, but it's so far away and the sun is above it, blinding.  Any other area is obscured by hills and grass, and I focus only on my counting.

The Cornucopia stands gleaming in the sunlight, and weapons, clothes, blankets and food spill out of it, with various things spread on the grass down the hill.  Thirty-nine seconds.  I see several weapons I can use, but they're all far away and the closest thing to me is a metal cup for water.  I shake my head, knowing I'll have plenty of supplies at the top of the hill.

When my time is cut in half, I look to the tributes on my left.  I'm on the furthest platform and next to me, Aken is clothed like me, only the fur is darker and sprinkled in tan, black and grey speckles and it looks more like a dog.  Just beyond him I see Yew in slate-colored fur, what looks like a wolf's pelt for her cloak.

But it's Charon beyond her that I'm focused on.  Twenty seconds left.  I quickly do the math and judge that there's about fifteen or twenty feet between us, and she's wearing what looks like a cheetah pelt.  Fifteen seconds.

I put my hand to my chest, carefully plucking out the orange and cupping it.  Ten seconds.  I smile and shout "Hey Flash!"  I relish her glare and know the cameras are focused on me.  They had seen me call out.  Seven seconds.  "Hide from this!"  As still as I can, I reach back and fling the orange.  Those nearest me watch it in horror as it flies through the air.

Three.  Two.  O-