Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games

Chapter 22

Randy Burnside

It was natural that Lisette and me would ally. We were both from Three, so we knew each other and our circumstances somewhat. The unwritten ban on killing your District partner helped with my initial distrust. Also, we were alike in skills. We started the day at the camouflage station with Lisette helping me learn painting techniques and creative ways to hide myself. Then we crept around the room as I showed her how to walk silently on the sides of her feet. I wasn't a sneaky pickpocket, exactly, but it was often in my best interest to know how to be quiet.

I also worked on survival skills. After last time, it was more obvious than ever how brutal an opponent the Arena itself was. I went for a general approach and learned the minimum to keep myself alive in heat, cold and drought. I focused on plants for food, but I tried to learn some of the easier snares in case there was only meat in the Arena. Or in case there were only other Tributes. Not that I was going to eat them- that was a no on so many levels. Just so I could get them out of the way.

While I worked, I watched the rest of the Tributes. We were all peeking at each other, trying to look like we weren't. Of course the Careers were the obvious threat, but there were other people to watch out for. There was something intense about Hosanna's quiet determination, and though Steve wasn't a Career and I didn't seem to be his target demographic, I knew what would happen if all the ladies were gone.

After we split up, I saw Lisette at the knives station. She didn't know what she was doing yet, and she didn't have much time to learn. Most of all, she seemed too nice to kill anyone with such a close-range weapon. But that was one of the reasons I allied with her. It was good to have a strong ally. It was perhaps better to have an ally you could outrun. Just like I wasn't sure she could kill someone with a knife, I wasn't sure I could really leave her, but it was good to have the option.

Just thinking about it was like looking into the future. A week ago, I never would have dreamed of leaving someone to die, or of picking friends based on who I could throw under the bus. Now it was in my head, but it still seemed monstrous. In a few days, it might not seem so terrible. In a week, I might conceivably do it. After that, I'd just keep slipping down that slope. That was the only way to win, it seemed. It wasn't a matter of who was strongest or smartest. The Victor was the one that went farthest down that path.

Lisette Crowley

I thought a knife would be the easiest weapon to learn. I had no idea how complicated they were to fight with. I'd picked a wide-bladed knife with a curve at the end. When Icarus passed by, he said that was so you the blood wouldn't form a vaccuum around the knife and trap it inside the body. The assistant said it was just to divert the blood away from the handle so it didn't get sticky. That explanation was less morbid than Icarus', but they both creeped me out.

"This seems obvious, but point the knife away from you at all times," the assistant said. "No holding it like this. First, we're here to fight, not look cool. Second, it doesn't even look cool." He c****d the knife sideways to show how not to hold it. I copied him as he held it straight out like an arrow.

"Knife fighting is fundamentally defensive. Keep your body behind the knife and use it as a barrier. The opponent will not want to attack your body because the knife is in the way, not necessarily because you are attacking him with it," the assistant said. I was glad to hear that. I wasn't a very formidable opponent. If I got into a fight, it would be to defend myself.

"The main goal is to avoid injury. This is accomplished by constant movement and by blocking the enemy's strikes. Stick your knife at me slowly and I'll show you how to block a strike," he said. I extended my arm toward his chest and he stepped to the side and pushed my arm diagonally with his arm.

"See how I use my knife arm to block the strike? Remember, your arms are less important than your organs. If you have to, use your arm as a barrier. It's better to get a cut on your arm than your chest, even a bad one," he said. We practiced striking and blocking some more. Every time I aimed at his vital spots, it made me sick to think about what would happen if the fight was real. But I didn't stop practicing.

"Knife fights are dirty, bloody things. The ideal way to fight with a knife is not to do it. First try to avoid the fight, then try to deflect it. You don't have to hurt anyone. You have to make them think you're willing to," he said.

Uh-oh, I thought. The last time I played poker with my mother, I ended up owing her three weeks of dishes. The only way for me to make anyone think I was willing to hurt them was to actually be willing to hurt them.

You wouldn't be practicing knives if you weren't planning to use them, I heard the voice in my head. Was it really true? Nobody made me start training with a weapon. It was my own idea. I picked the one I thought would be most useful. I'd thought of myself as more a dove than a hawk, but here I was trading knives with an assistant when I could have been painting or naming plants. I didn't have to worry about my poker face. I wasn't bluffing.

Scott Sharpe

Five and Three were sister Districts. We made power, they made technology. Technology needed power, and power was improved by technology. We were both urban, eggheaded Districts with a reputation for wimpy but crafty Tributes. So of course I gravitated toward Lisette and Randy. Tullia was nice, but she had that arm. She didn't ask for an alliance. She was nice enough not to put me in that situation.

As I watched Lisette and Randy, I confirmed my decision. Lisette had already shrugged off whatever Steve said to her and was trading blows with the knife instructor like nobody's business. Randy was at the plants station, which was excellent, since I didn't know grass from moss. We had little of either in Five. Once I saw a dandelion in a crack in the sidewalk. I felt like I'd found a four-leafed clover. Both Randy and Lisette were good at camouflage and stealth. They had a great thing going on, and I wanted in. I sidled my way over to Lisette as she was putting her knife away.

"That was pretty... knife work," I said, letting my expression show I knew exactly how cheesy the joke was.

"Such sharp wit," she said. "Keep going and you'll find something sharper." I held up my hands in surrender.

"I just wanted to help you out. I thought of something that might improve your luck," I said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Letting me into the alliance," I said. She let the knife clunk onto the table in its sheath.

"How's that helpful? You going to joke them to death?" she asked.

"I've been focusing on running and climbing, but I also have something even better," I said.

"Do tell," she said.

"Hear me out. This is good. See, in a lot of cultures, eight is a lucky number," I said.

"So?" she asked.

"So how do you make eight?" I asked.

"Two circles on top of each other," she said.

"No," I said. "You add three and five."