Survivor: The Forty-Seventh Hunger Games

Chapter 22

Sherman Betula, D7

Unscramble the following:

aalelhi

oiuvrvsr

iccnolu

tvocri

It wasn't getting any easier. I'd been practicing all day, but I never got any better. It didn't even make any sense. It was stupid to determine life and death over a stupid puzzle. This year's Victor wouldn't be based on skill or District. It was just plain luck.

"What's that?" Sammy asked when she happened by. The tribes hadn't been intermingling much except for the Careers, but Sammy was a friendly sort of girl.

"Word puzzles," I said. She looked at the list and made a face.

"You're on your own. Words always look like that to me," she said, and she wandered away.

You're on your own. I certainly hoped not. Goodness knew no one would win this year alone, especially not me. I needed to make connections within my tribe.

Cain and Nash seemed like a good place to start. They were both friendly and open to outsiders. Nash was young enough to think most older boys were cool, and Cain would approve of anyone who was nice to his friend. I found them at the poisons station, which seemed like an odd place to be.

"What are you doing here? There's not going to be much fighting," I said.

"It's still here, so we think it's a trick. Nash is already good at puzzles, so we thought we should get ready just in case," Cain said.

"Titian said the people we vote for have a battle. Sometimes it might be a real fight, since the Capitol likes to watch fights. I'm little, so I'll need tricks if I want to win," Nash said.

There was something embarrassing about having a twelve-year-old be better prepared than I was, but this was no time for pride. If you can't beat them (or don't want to, in Nash's case), join them. I sat down with the duo and started mixing poisons.

Bailey Arroyo, D10

Some people were not made for pull-ups. The abs were willing, since I exercised them every day while riding, but the arms were weak. I could pull myself up maybe three inches before everything just stopped. Tug all I want, I wouldn't go any higher.

In addition to past Games tapes, Titian had released some clips from the pre- Dark Days shows this year was based on. I'd been watching them religiously. Every year the shows were different, but a lot of them had a few things in common. For example, every year had some sort of challenge were all the contestants had to hold some difficult pose and see who lasted the longest. I was trying to get ready for that, but my body had other ideas.

In the end, persistence paid off. I got my chin to touch the bar. After that, I was sore as all get out, and I knew any more physical training would just end up hurting me. I retired to my room, dialed for a piece of pizza and some soda, and resumed my studies.

The tapes before me were my first real exposure to pre-Dark Days culture. Based on what I saw, them people were weird. They had tons of food- half the contestants were fat. The only fat people I'd ever seen were Capitolites, Peacekeepers, and one weird guy in the District who had a giant lump on his throat and couldn't lose weight. I couldn't understand why any of these people would want to go on an island with hardly any food. How rich did you have to be to think starving was fun? I thought only President Snow was that rich, but these people were normal back then.

Another weird thing was just how unpredictable the show was. The challenges could be anything from rolling stone balls up hills to eating bugs. If my life hadn't been on the line, it might have been fun to do something so crazy. When it was life and death, though, I would have liked more certainty.

The real reason I was watching was to see what the winners had in common. Unfortunately, they had nothing in common. Some were the nice ones, some were the schemers, some were the villains, and some just seemed totally random. I had no idea which one to emulate. It was a total crapshoot. The one tiny thing I could latch onto was that usually, the mean ones didn't win. I wasn't a mean person, so that was nice. At least I had something going for me.

Ash Summers, D3

I was okay at most of the puzzles and activities in the training room. After a few tries, I decided to take a more practical approach. Titian said we'd be provided with tiny amounts of food but we were highly encouraged to supplement it however we could. He said the island would be seeded with plants and game, and a lot of my tribemates were more interested in the plants. Me, I was going big or going home. I wanted the meat.

Chickens and fish were one thing. I did not expect to see a nearly cow-sized pig in the hunting simulation. Even though it was just a hologram, I was scared to throw a spear at the behemoth. Its tusks were as long as my forearm, and it was as fat as you'd expect a pig to be. I was starting to think Titian fibbed about the "no outside of council deaths" thing.

"You know, I think I read a book about this once," I said as I faced a protean pig with nothing but a stick sharpened into a spear. "And it didn't end well."

Okay, maybe leave the boars alone. Chickens, fish, seagulls, and rabbits were plenty for me. Besides, the instructor said if you didn't cook pork right you got these gross worms that burrowed into your muscles and stayed there for years. That was a no. He also mentioned rabbit fever, but that could at least be prevented by not eating the livers.

I was glad to be in Fonu. There were two targets more obvious than me, and while they were getting cut, I could work on solidifying my place in the tribe. I didn't care about backstabbing or being a leader or any of that stuff. I just wanted to stay alive. Whatever happened, only one of us was getting out. The votes only determined the order of the deaths, and the order didn't make a difference.

Cain Pander, D5

Training was practically a formality. Spacial awareness skills and dexterity were innate, not learned. Really, training was just another part of the social experiment this Games was based on. It was a chance to see the others and take notes.

Already I could see the differences between Fonu and Heilala. Charming was the obvious leader of Heilala, just by his charismatic and engaging nature. Ruby was playing the role of second-in-command, but she didn't seem to really care about Charming. She just valued the balance of security and power that second place brought. Most of the others lingered in the middle. Potato was the clear sacrificial lamb, and Reefe was the lowest on the social totem pole.

My own tribe was much less organized. We didn't have a leader. Hannah was the closest thing, but that was just because she was the friendliest. She never put on airs or gave orders. We all did mostly whatever we wanted. Abrexa was the omega, and Nash was in serious danger of getting voted out early. If Abrexa and Nash were the two lowest votes, the final battle would be a joke. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing Nash go, but saving him meant picking someone else to go in his place.

It was easier to say it was okay if it was someone older. The boundaries were artificial and emotional, but I felt better about voting for Abrexa or Aliara than I would have for Hannah or Nash. I was lucky that most of my tribemates were my age and only Nash was really a little kid. The thing was, I didn't really know who I wanted to vote for. There was no one I disliked enough to wish death upon. The only logical choice was to vote based on strategy, but I had no idea which tribemates would be best to have at any given time. I might vote out the best runner and the next challenge was a race, or I might vote out someone good at remembering numbers and that was the next challenge. There was an element of randomness never before seen in the Games. I couldn't even see a single day ahead. I had no idea how to plan for staying alive.