Task Description:

A poisonous gas floods the arena, tributes must get above the gas level.

‘What the hell am I doing?’ I wondered from the top of the building on which I sat watching the sun peek over the rooftops. ‘Oh, thats right. You’re the manic vigilante out to save people with nothing more than plywood board with a nail sticking out of it. The careers are shaking in their boots, all fear the suicidal kid from eleven!’ Oh man. I was such an idiot. I should just jump off this building now and save someone the effort of killing me. The pavement looked strangely daunting, it dared me to jump and free myself.

I took a labored breath backed away, remembering my vow to make my life mean something. ‘Petra gave her life for mine, and I will give my life for another.’ I told myself, feeling vomit burn my throat as an image of her bloody body sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed through my memory.

In the distance I saw a fog began to curl through the streets, weaving it’s way in and out of the abandoned buildings. My stomach rumbled, I hadn't grabbed anything at the cornucopia so on top of having no weapon, I also had no food. Could my experience in the arena get any worse? Yeah I don’t think so.

I walked over to the rusted fire escape and began climbing downwards carefully, trying to keep it from making clicking noises that were so loud they could wake the dead. I was unsuccessful. By the time my feet hit the cracked pavement I was sure that I had not only woke the dead, but had also triggered the zombie apocalypse.

I bit my lip and looked around, knowing I had to get the hell out of here before I was jumped by the career herd. Yeah I said herd, as far as I was concerned the they had exceeded the career ‘pack’ after the 5th member. In all honesty I couldn’t believe that kids from the outer districts had teamed up with those sick Capital lapdogs so willingly. I reminded myself that the majority of people would happily give up their humanity to live, even though death was the only promise in life.

People were so blind.

I walked down the street, unsure as to how I was going to find food. I could have gone to the ocean and attempted to fish, but I wasn’t from 4. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to how to catch a fish and with my luck I would catch a poisonous fish and writhe in agony  for hours before dying a slow unspeakable death.

The streets were eerily silent, the only thing I could hear was the echo of my own footsteps. I had always been an early riser by nature, so I assumed the others were just asleep or waiting to jump me when I least expected it. One or the other. I wandered over to a large dumpster that sat in a crumbling alley way. I cast my weapon (if you could even call it that) aside and opened it a crack and peered inside on the off chance the dumpster was actually a dumpster and was full of junk and leftover food that I could put to good use.

The dumpster was dark, the angle of the sun made it impossible to see inside. I let out a low growl of frustration and pushed the heavy metal dumpster lid higher grunting with the effort. That was when I realized the innocent little dumpster wasn’t so innocent. A hand shot from the depths wrapping it’s hand around my neck and yanking me downward into the depths of the dumpster. Adrenaline surged through my body as I hit the floor with a bang. The dumpster cover came crashing down on my ankle pinning it there, but also allowing a thin crack of light to penetrate the darkness enough for me to see my attackers face.

‘Oh joy. It’s the sicko from 9.’ I thought sarcastically, jerking my ankle free. I rolled sideways  dodging a knife as the dumpster banged shut, enveloping us both in darkness. I scrambled backward, kicking blindly in the area that David had just been. My foot connected with nothing but air. I gulped, hearing the slight shift of rusted metal as he moved.

A knife suddenly embedded itself in the metal inches above my head. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. Another knife banged somewhere else in the dumpster. ‘He doesn’t know where I am.’ I realized, ‘He’s trying to scare me into letting out some kind of noise so he can determine my location… but he’s giving up his in the process.’ The dumpster wasn’t that large. If David was throwing the knives with as much strength as he was it meant he must of had enough room to draw back his arm completely, which would suggest that he was in the center… it seemed logical enough. I took a deep breath, slowly reached for the knife and pulling it free. A small stream of light flowed through the hole where the knife had been. The entire dumpster shifted as David spun around and a knife grazed my side. I yanked that one free too and pounced in the general direction David was.

I hit him hard, digging my dual blades into… some fleshy area of his body. He let out a war cry, swiping my stomach with his knife, I cringed as I felt the flesh tear. I pulled my knives free of his flesh, stabbing again. David’s hand grasped one of my wrists, mid blow.  I felt him begin twisting it in a way that it was definitely not supposed to twist. Pain shot upwards through my body, a grunt escaped my lips. I yanked my alternate blade from whatever part of his body I had implanted it in, driving it in the direction of David’s arm, I missed it, falling off balance completely. His other arm wrapped around my neck pulling me against what I assumed was his chest, cutting off my breath entirely. Warm sticky liquid that I had no doubt was blood gushed against my back. I must of been stabbing his torso. My lungs started to squeeze, I grabbed my free hand and drove the knife into his forearm. He cried out, letting go. I rolled away panting, trying to prepare myself the next attack that must have been coming.

None came.

I looked over- which was stupid because the dumpster was pitch black and I couldn’t see a thing. I didn’t move as a coughing fit filled my ears, a sicky wheezing coughing fit. I could hear liquid gurgling in his throat. David was dying. I stood up shakily, extending my arms and heaving open the top of the dumpster open. Light streamed in exposing even the darkest corners of the bin.

David lay in a pool of blood, his body twitching. I felt guilt flood my heart, even if he had been the one to attack me. I leaned over a slit his throat with one of his own knives, his body stilled. I turned away from him, pushing my feelings aside to the best of my ability. A backpack laid in the corner I went over and pried it open. Inside was an armory of weapons, a machete, two daggers, a spear and sword. ‘Great. Fantastic. I’m glad you felt it was necessary to have a 1000 pounds of metal in your bag, but you can’t eat metal.’ I thought in frustration, at the corpse.

Finally I found a bag of food at the bottom along with some water. I shoved a handful of trail mix down my throat. I stopped mid chew at my brain registered that something wasn’t right.  I didn’t feel right- but it wasn’t just because I had been mugged in a dumpster and nearly strangled to death. I was hot. Freakishly hot. It had been cool earlier. My lungs burned every time I breathed in, that couldn’t be a good sign. I looked around and saw that the fog I had noticed earlier had reached me, dancing like flames in little wisps through the air. But it didn’t look like normal fog, it was a sickly smoke color.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out I had to get the hell out of here if I wanted to live. While my desire to live was very debatable, I had a mission and I hadn't just almost been killed by a psycho in a dumpster to die without saving a few more helpless kids.

I started sprinting down the road in no particular direction, the burning traveled from my lungs to my head. My ability to think began to unravel with every breath I took. I stopped moving completely using every shred of willpower I had to rack my brain for some type of idea.

I started sprinting down the road in no particular direction, the burning traveled from my lungs to my head. My ability to think began to unravel with every breath I took. I stopped moving completely using every shred of willpower I had to rack my brain for some type of idea.

‘Up. Get above the smoke level.’ The logic hit me as I looked at the buildings surrounding me on all sides. ‘Up’ I told myself rushing toward the nearest building and throwing open the door. and scrambling inside. I stood in what must have been a lobby at some point, through the haze of the smoke I could see a rotting desk with some cubby holes behind it. To my right was what might have been a waiting area at some point. now however it was just rotting cushioned seats and broken vases. Directly ahead of me was an elevator, its gold paint chipping to reveal the steel underneath.

I rushed forward, my head spinning as I blindly jabbed the ‘open’ button. If this was still working, I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

It was anything but good fortune, being the cynical, distrusting guy I am I should have seen the elevator for what it was; a death trap. I blame my stupidness on the chemicals, they were messing with my head clearly.

As the elevator doors ‘dinged’ open I was greeted with a grisly sight. A boy with short black hair lay dead in a pile of bloody vomit. It was the male from 8, Blake Crow or something like that. The fact he was dead in the elevator should have been enough warning to go another way. Instead I barely acknowledged him and stepped inside, pressing the worn button for the roof. I leaned against the wall closing my eyes as the doors slid shut and we began our ascent. Everything was burning, even my brain burned- was that even possible? The awful music didn’t help. The old speakers in the corners of the compartment cackled  a staticy song that sounded like it must have been ancient.

“....Go on now go walk out the door, just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore, weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye. Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I, I will survive! Oh as long as I know how to love, I know I will stay alive! I've got all my life to live. I've got all my love to give and I'll survive! I will survive!...”

How ironic, though I was tempted to bang my head against the wall.

That was when the lights went out and the elevator stopped. A dim emergency light flicker on filling the elevator with a dim, ghostly glow. I scrambled over and pounded my fists on the door trying desperately to get it open. It didn’t budge. I doubled over and vomited, the warm liquid splattering on the floor and mixing with Blake’s.

‘I have to get out of here.’ My thoughts were delirious as I forced myself to focus. My eyes darted around the interior of the elevator, looking for some type of exit. ‘Wall. Wall. Wall. Door. Floor. Ceiling. Service hatch-” That was my way out.

I pushed up on it, thanking God I was tall. I had no idea what I would have done if I couldn’t reach it. My fingers brushed the wood panel, pushing up on it. The board jiggled a bit but it didn’t move. I let out another breath, my head spinning. I had to get out of here. I reached my hand backward into the pouch that hung on my back, feeling blindly for the machete. My hand found the blade and yanked it. It cut into my hand but I barely felt it, everything else  was burning so badly at this point I don’t think I would have registered someone stabbing me.

I stared at the machete, watching my blood drip from it, trying to desperately to remember what I was going to do with it. ‘Oh right. Up.’ I thought numbly, swinging the curved blade upwards with every inch of force left in my body. There was a cracking sound as the wood caved in from the force of my blow.

The blade clattered to the floor beside me, as I numbly hooked my fingers around the edge of the service hatch. Pulling myself upwards was much harder than I ever remember it being, it felt as if an anchor had been strapped to my legs. I rolled over the top and lay there panting, my head feeling as if I had been spun around in circles. I was in the elevator shaft, two cables that suspended the elevator ran upwards toward what appeared to be a ceiling.

That meant I was only a few floors away from the roof.

I forced myself to my feet, my entire body screaming for me to just lay down and die. Like I have said before, it was tempting, but I had work to do. I wasn’t about to die trying to save myself, I would die so some innocent could live. -Of course those weren’t the thoughts running through my head at that moment, I wasn’t that coherent. That was more of an statement thinking back. At that moment my thoughts were something along the lines of ‘Up. I have to go up. Why am I going up? Why does everything hurt? To hell with everything, I hate everyone.’

I grasped the cables and I began slowly pulling myself upwards, the corners of my vision dimming. My arms stung, my legs stung more. Sweat ran in streams down my face, I had to blink it from my eyes, still I pushed on.

My head was swimming now. Everytime I tried to think shocks of pain pierced my temples. The only thing I knew was ‘up’. I had to get ‘up’.

After what seemed like hours but realistically could have only been a few minutes -if that, my head hit the ceiling. Being as mindless as I had been, I was confused. How the hell was I supposed to go ‘up’ if there was a huge wall blocking my way? My hands slid downward from the slick sweat that coated them. I squeezed the cables tighter and I jerked to a stop. I knew I had to get somewhere and there was no doubt I didn’t have much time to get there.

My vision swayed, I saw a door in front of me. It looked like the back side of an elevator door. ‘Why is there an elevator door here? This makes no sense.’ Electricity shot through my brain, shoving any rational thought process I might have had down the drain. I was going through the stupid door or I was going to fall from wherever I was.

I slammed the heel of my foot into elevator door. It didn’t budge. ‘Pry.’ I thought yanking a  dagger from my pack, holding the cable with just one hand. I leaned toward the door and wedged the blade in the crack between the sliding doors. I twisted the handle, forcing the doors to open. I stared at the small crack of light that had just appeared. Cold air rushed in filling my nostrils with fresh oxygen. I strangely felt a little better, I still wanted to hurl, but better. I stuck my hands in between the heavy door, forcing them the rest of the way open and tumbling through.

The concrete of the roof felt cool against my cheek as I lay in a heap unmoving. After a few minutes things started to make sense again. Slowly but surely the burning pain released its grip on my body and let me be. After ten minutes I sat up, looking around. The black fog covered the streets below me like a thick cloud layer, on some of the roofs around me I saw other tributes who had escaped the fogs toxic grasp. Most of them crouched hidden in the shadows, identified only by a small movement or a smaller whisper.  On the building  across from mine, one group of  tributes though stood straight up, as if they thought no one in their right minds would ever attack them. The career herd.

I glared watching them for a second, about to turn away when a slight movement caught my eye. A girl and boy appeared through a door in the roof, the boy hovering protectively above the girl. He pushed her behind him and peeked around the corner. He doubled back as he saw the careers, only they had seen them too.

The career herd was on them in seconds, I glanced down at the pack at my side. I had a spear. Spears were long distance weapons. I grabbed it and held it awkwardly in my hands as I got to my feet. I had used a spear only a few times in training…. I hesitated.

I heard the boy scream, and saw his body fall to the ground. Even from here I could see the blood. My gut wrenched, I saw one of the guys grab ahold of the girl. She struggled to get away as he lifted a huge hammer to strike her down. I had to act now. I would act now.

I launched the spear, it arched across the foggy chasm between our two buildings and- missed him entirely. It hit the career girl standing a few feet away from them, she collapsed with a shriek and her herd turned to look. The little girl managed to yank herself away from her captor and disappear into the dark doorway.

Two careers rushed to the girls side while the other couple pointed at me yelling. I grabbed my backpack slinging it over my shoulders. Whenever they got over here they would be too late. I would be gone. Where? Back into the fog. There were still people down there, and I was going to find them. No one deserved to die like this with the exception of me. If I were to die down there saving people, it would be a death deserve. If not? Then I live to fight another day.

Though this time I was taking the stairs.