stone walls amongst glass cannons . ghost gen

The decision to follow Cedric had been the right one for Tyrone after all. No more than a few moments after he pulled away, cannons begin to fire. First, just one, and Tyrone is shocked to even hear that. It's been years since the bloodbath provided casualties. The biggest draw to the Hunger Games, other than the finale, was the danger and risk of the bloodbath. The strategy for tributes to survive turned reliant on sponsorships, though, rather than the riches toward the center. The Gamemakers enticed them with something relatively unusual this time: guns. Kids with guns. The shots boom in his ears as his sprinting turns into a consistent jog. He can't help but look back every other second, weary that someone with just enough aim might point their barrel toward him and the others.

The outskirts of the Cornucopia have items scattered about. Food. Ammunition. A little jar of cream labeled 'Antibacterial.' He stuffs all of it into his pockets. The ammo jingles like a pocket full of pennies with each move his leg makes. All of the sounds irritate him: gunshots, the ammunition, his panicked breath. A knife lying beside the overgrown grass catches his eye when the sun's reflection sticks up from the blade. At least he's got something to defend himself. The gunfire from behind leaves Tyrone stunned for a moment, his hand shaking over the knife's handle, reminding him about what happens to those who bring a knife to a gunfight. Another cannon's burst rings in his ears, adding to the overload of sound. Could he really take a week or more of this? He didn't have a scratch on him and he's already beginning to worry.

Ginny and Luya are running towards them. Tyrone waves them down quickly. The towering gates are just ahead, escape closer than ever. Two more cannons blow in near unison as two and two become four. Four cannons so far, unprecedented for recent games.

Tyrone turns back again, seeing more and more tributes making their way to the exit, less and less of them in the middle, fighting. "We can't have them all catching up to us. We've gotta go!" The gates cast a long shadow over the outskirts of the Cornucopia and the bloodbath. He slips away into the shade and out into the open, hoping to get as far as possible.

[picks up lunchable, 6 ammo, antibacterial cream, and knife]