Fleeing Tributes: Automated Defense System

Sacrifice and I are the first ones to arrive, which makes sense given the fact we’re literally only two levels away from the Training Room. It brings me more joy than it probably should to think of Roe having to make the longest trek of all from up on the twelfth floor. Serves him right for being a dick all the time.

The other tributes arrive in various states of distress, all just as confused and bleary-eyed as I am. Jack enters with Bentley and catches my eye; I smile at him as he approaches me, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of my all-too-predictable baby pink silk pyjamas with their stupid gold lettering, the initials ALF glowing like a beacon over my heart. When he’s almost reached me, I run the last few metres over to him and hug him tightly. Partly for show, and partly to have something to keep me grounded, just for a moment. I let go easily after a couple of seconds, but he keeps a firm grip on my hand.

“You okay?”

I don’t know. I’m just tired, honestly. My brain’s running on pure adrenaline and not a lot else. I squeeze Jack’s hand as way of reply as nervous whispers continue to fill the room. Seems like nobody else knows what to do or say either. It still feels like a dream to me.

Eventually, the lights of the Training Centre flicker, and the projector screen in front of us whirs to life. The smug holographic face of Bourgeois Decadence stares down at us as she explains the premise for a new and improved Day One.

Halfway through, I start shaking my head.

By the end of her speech, I’m already making a beeline for the exit.

“Well, I’m out. I’ve seen this story before. No way in hell I’m sticking around for this suicide mission.” As if I needed fabulous prizes. The Sponsors are practically lining up for me as we speak anyway. I let go of Jack’s hand and start to walk away. “Stay safe, yeah? I’ll catch you later?” My bed is calling my name.

The first spray of pellets hit me before I’ve even taken two steps.

Well, fuck.

[Automated Defense System]

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Mr. District Twelve fails to avoid the second spray of Geiger’s bullets, but he bares the brunt of them like a true champion, barely flinching at the intrusion. Meanwhile, I’m cradling my arm in a truly pathetic way as I pace around the room and come to stand beside him.

“We should have just fought like the others,” I grumble to him, blowing strands of hair out of my face exasperatedly. It leaves me wondering, why a guy like him would try to retreat in the first place. Surely his chances of surviving a cage battle were better than someone like Nessa Garner’s. The thought pricks at the edge of my consciousness, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

Our numbers multiply as Wolf materialises, seemingly out of thin air. I want to warn her to stay hidden – or at the very least, dive straight into the open and proclaim her allegiance to Bourgeois’ cage fight extravaganza. But if anyone has a chance of outsmarting Geiger’s weapons, it’s her. I let myself breathe, grateful at the thought of at least one of us escaping this room of horrors unscathed.

That is, until she stands directly in front of me. That is, until she holds out her hand, willing me to take it.

Vulnerable girl, save yourself, that’s all you have in here. I see the trigger pull in my mind as the lasers lock onto her exposed skin.

I don’t think. Just clasp her hand tightly and shield her body with mine, trying to pull her out of harm’s way.

It’s no use, of course. We’re both caught in the crossfires of the metallic giant. I wince at the strangled yelp that leaves her body. Geiger is a menace. Oh sure, target the poor defenceless girls who have better things to do than waste their time on you.

I roll my eyes. “Dude, your fragile masculinity is showing!” I yell to the crowded room, eyes blazing a rotten kind of hatred.

I watch as Geiger’s holographic face contorts comically on the screen above us. I smile at that.

“Run, in a zig-zag.” Wolf’s whisper barely touches my ears, but the warning gives me a few precious seconds to dive out of the path of Geiger’s next streak of bullets.

We run in a zig-zag.

I don’t know who’s pulling who – who’s saving who – but for this brief flicker in time, we’re a team. We dive behind a barricade, listening to the world breaking apart around us.

“What’s the plan now? How do we do this?” I ask Wolf once I’ve caught my breath. You can’t hide forever, the sentiment echoes loudly in my skull. We come from two completely separate worlds. Navigating the chasm of our differences feels impossible – bigger than myself. But it’s all we have.

[Automated Defense System]

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Wolf points to a vent across the room and parrots off instructions as she pieces the bones of a plan together in her mind, faster than should be possible. I nod along, hanging onto her words with laser-sharp focus, until it becomes apparent that this plan only guarantees one of us safety.

And by the way she’s nudging me forward, it’s not herself she’s trying to save.

“No, what – you should go! It’s your idea! I can cover you!” Its not that I don’t trust her or her spur-of-the-moment plan – for some reason, I do, I really do, even though I probably shouldn’t. But it feels wrong to be the one running right now, when the chaos and havoc continues to rain down around us. Maybe I’m not much help, but I should at least try to keep her – and Emerson, and Marik – out of the firing line.

I don’t know where the martyrdom is coming from; I don’t know how to feel about it. But I don’t have the chance or time to dwell on it before Wolf is yelling “Go! Now!” and pulling me along, further protests dying on my lips with the exertion of our sprinting.

The open vent looms in front of us. At the last minute, I try to manoeuvre my body behind hers to push her in front of me, but for such a tiny girl, she has a fierce tenacity and determination that I don’t stand a chance against.

“I will be seeing you later.” It’s a promise. She will survive this nightmare, and I will be scolding her for being so damn foolish.

God, I hate being indebted to people.

Out of harm’s way, I let myself catch my breath, hating the uncomfortable feeling of my heart hammering against my ribcage. From behind the metal grate, I watch in horror as Wolf falls again, caught in the path of more of Geiger’s bullets. Her leg twists awkwardly and my heart jumps straight into my throat. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t leave – can’t leave her.

Before I can reach out and pull her down with me, onto me – through the narrow opening that we definitely cannot both fit in – she’s off again, falling into step beside Emerson, a new plan no doubt already materialising. Marik is there too, offering himself as a distraction, and it all seems so backwards – that we’re trying to save each other when the Games have always been about your own survival.

I think of the repercussions of this solidarity on display – what it will mean in the days to come. It can’t lead to anything good.

I scurry up the vent before I can let myself get more attached. It will only make it harder when we’re forced to turn against each other and confront the monsters we’re destined to become.

arcadia flees