...6...

Never before in his life had Roarke heard anything as loud as those numbers counting down around him while he rose to his place on the playing field.

...5...

There were no thoughts able to sneak through the din.

...4...

Not even the thundering of his own heartbeat could banish the cruel monotonous rhythm to the back of his mind.

...3...

It was there and with every second that descended the utterly harsh reality of this day became more and more real.

...2...

He was here to fight for his life for the amusement of the masses.

...1...

BOOM!

Like a cold slap of icy ocean water, the crack of the cannon dropped every panicking thought and desperate idea right into the forefront of his mind and he was running; running straight for the giant structure of the Cornucopia. In retrospect, he probably should have taken note of who was around him but in that single moment, he focused on just one thing: what he would need to survive. Long legs, lean with muscle, cut across the distance quicker then he had ever thought he could. The sounds of pain, drowned beneath his own breathing, left to reflect upon later. There were others around him dying but he could not stop.

Tunnel vision was a dangerous thing no matter how much it might help one to focus on the goal at hand but it happens, especially when the silvery glint of his recreated weapon lay just beyond the line of sunlight within the gaping mouth of the entrance. Bundles of supplies and food bypassed. What looked to be water in a tall container snatched up on the fly. Weaving through the growing aisles of stock, he could not remember what or whom he bumped into. All he knew was that something was shoved hard into a stack of containers as his boots hit the floor. The change from cracked concrete to smooth metal sent him stumbling right into the stack of supplies that braced his weapon. Bread, fruit, and bottles tumbled all around him. The razor sharp edge of the leister's tips scratched across the floor drawing the hooked end perilously close to his leg as he came to a stop upon the scattered heap.

The cool grip of metal and ridged plastic in his hand seemed to act like a filter for his thoughts. He was vulnerable but there was security in the knowledge that he had something other then his bare hands to defend himself. Knowing that he did not have time to take a break, he slid to his knees and found his footing again. The water had fallen in his little mishap but it, or another like it, was quickly grabbed up again with the weight of his weapon slung onto his back. A full length of small link chain, not rope, connected the pole to its knife was hitched up over his shoulder. The lightweight loops strung together by a simple snap closure binding.

With knife in hand, water hung over the leister's hook; he took a mere moment more to assess anything else he could grab. Just steps from where he stood, a bag of apples lay tempting him. It wasn't that far. Roarke did not even realize he had moved towards it until a shadow cast his hand in darkness.

Adrenaline shot back through his system. His pulse skyrocketed. Before he could stop himself, he had stepped back so that he would have room to move, his knife leveled and ready to strike. He came eye to eye with the tribute from District 9. Roarke remembered him mostly from the interview the guy given but for the life of him, he couldn't remember his name. Collin? Kelly? It had that "K" sound he was sure not that it really mattered right then.

Roarke didn't move.

He waited and as he did, he took in the figure standing before him. The tribute was tall, though not as tall as he was and probably matched him in weight. Working the fields and mills was probably the source of his bulk. A fight between them would not leave either unscarred, so he waited. Around him, the sounds of the game started to filter through the crescendo of his heart. Others were running. Crates and supplies tumbled about them. People were crying out. Slowly but surely it was all sinking in until it became a deafening roar.

Much to his surprise, the tribute from District 9 did not advance and warily, Roarke lowered his knife. Taking a step back, then another, he completely forgot about the fruit he had been eying. There were no words shared between them just a level glance that went unblinking even as he gave him a slow, short, nod and bolted back out into the fray.

Keeping tight to the side of the Cornucopia, he finally allowed himself to look out over the carnage. Once sun bleached cement and faded asphalt was now dyed here and there with deep burgundy like some macabre artists paint splatters. Supplies littered the ground and weapons went uncollected. The sight left him wondering who had made it. Had the girl from his District gotten away? Levis was it. He truly hoped so and knew that he would make a point of finding her if she had. Until then, however, Roarke knew that he had to find cover.

From where he stood, he could tell that the powers that be had dumped them off in one of the abandoned towns that surrounded Capital. It made sense. An active power grid. Plenty of hiding places for the Game Maker's insidious plots. Abandoned buildings, many damaged by weather and the ravages of war, stood decaying nearby. With mountains surrounding them, he began to wonder just how far they'd be allowed to venture. Probably not too far. Sliding around behind the structure, he found the line of a riverbed that disappeared behind what once might have been a town hall from the mangled logo on a long since felled sign.

Water.

It was just too bad that it would be an obvious place for him to head. Cursing at his luck, he continued his careful crouch about to the opposite side of the Cornucopia. There, in the distance, beyond what once might have been shade trees in a park were the looming heights of several warehouse-sized buildings. Taking stock of anyone lingering nearby, he broke into a dead run for the street. He would use the sun at his back to help him and the alleys to hide him.

Through the Maze

He had not been alone in his decision to disappear into the ruins of the town. The dulled echo of running footsteps came from almost every angle, leaving him to duck behind crumbling walls and quickly slip into shadowed doorways. The sun was a cruel disc in the sky that lifted waves of heat from the shattered roadways and had him shedding the jacket he'd been given before stepping aboard the elevator. Its fabric used to wrap the shiny metal of his leister so that it wouldn't reflect and give away his position when he was out in the open.

Occasional glimpses of his destination would keep him going. Even when a particular house or building would tempt him with scenes of normalcy frozen in time beneath layers of dust, he continued. Inviting shade teased in the brilliant day light. Just another block and he would be able to take a moment to rest. He really wanted to put as much distance between him and anyone else as he could. At least for today. In truth that was all he wanted - just to live through that day.

All he had seen was a blur of color out of the corner of his eye as he hit the end of the wall before he stumbled back in surprise at the impact. Bracing himself against the failing brick, his knife leveled upon the person he'd run head long into. All this time he'd been so careful not to do just this! Panting with his hair sweat slicked to his forehead, he had to take a moment further to focus on... on her! That hair... It was the first thing he recognized before Levis' face came into focus. She hadn't jumped right back up to attack and it gave him pause. Wary but grateful to see she'd made it out, he very cautiously lowered his weapon and shifted to offer her a hand up.

"You really need to watch where you're going."

"R-Roarke?"

"Yea, it's me. Are you alright?"

"Ugh, fine..."

Shaking his head, he crouched down and gently reached out to take her arm so he could help her to her feet. Eyes quickly glancing around them to be sure they were still alone, "Sorry about that."

"For what? I'm the one that ran into you." A grateful smile spread across her face as she stood, reassuring him that she was indeed all right. "I'm really glad that you're alive."

"Yea, well..." clearing his throat, he made sure she was steady. A very brief and almost strained smirk tossed back at her in return, as if he wasn't really used to smiling. "It's good to see you too. Let's get out of here, though. I don't think we want to bump into anyone else just yet.

"Mmhm," the odd sound drew his attention back to her just as she closed her eyes for a moment. "Lets go to the river, it's over that way. We'll be able to hide in the bushes, maybe catch a fish. At the very least we can get some water."

"It's a good idea but its too out in the open." Even as he said it, he was already peering around the corner and started in that very direction. His low toned voice kept just above a whisper, "we'll have to stay low near the water. I thought I saw some more ruins that way we can hide in that way."

With a longing glance at the silver slip of river behind them, she nodded, "Yeah, okay."

Peeking back at her over his shoulder, Roarke slowed just enough to reach for her hand, "Trust me, I want to be near the water as much as you do but they'll expect us to do that. I got a glimpse of a big building a little ways back that should have plenty of places to hole up."

Accepting his hand Levis gives him a genuine smile before looking away, "You're right, I know you're right. It's just...being near water makes me feel safe I guess. I know how and when I'll die. I won't be surprised when it happens."

He could understand the way she felt and it was shown through a slight squeeze of his hand about hers as they came to a large open lot. Concern and confusion settling into a frown at the words that followed. "My dad was real big on accepting what hand fate dealt you. At least that's what he always told me but don't, okay?"

He intentionally kept himself from looking down at her, instead looking across to what might have been a park at one time. The large shade coated plot was the source of the swaying trees he had seen earlier. Keeping a gentle grip about her hand, he urged their path towards the comfort of the trees. It wasn't much further. They just had to get beyond this and they would be within sight of the factory yard.

"Your dad... I don't think I ever saw him, what's he like?

"He died about 5 years ago, he wasn't around much so don't feel bad for not knowing him." Even though he seemed a bit dismissive in his response, he couldn't fully hide the sad smile that touched his lips. He was a good father, though. He and my Uncle taught me everything I know. What about your parents? I never really took the time to get to know many others in town."

Levis cringed slightly, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought up the subject. "My parents and brother were killed during the early days of the revolution, when I was about 10. We were out late walking and stumbled on two drunken Peacekeepers. They got into a fight with my father and shot him and my mother. I ran away with my baby brother but he was shot in my arms. I somehow managed to escape and my friend Asher found me; I've lived with her family ever since"

He listened, a sad frown creasing his lips as the first shade of trees touched their skin giving him a chance to slow their pace a bit. A gentle tug of their hands pulling her a bit closer, "we seem to have a lot in common, Levis. It's good you had your friend to help you."

With a slow nod, she made a slightly noncommittal sound in her throat, "I'm sad I'll never see her again, but it was nice while it lasted."

"You never know. Keep your head down and you just might make it out of here."

Letting go of her hand, he settled his touch lightly to her head as they emerged at the edge of a small pond that the river fed. The factory lay out before them just beyond it with over flowing retaining pools creating a shallow flood across what once had been the parking lot. So intent on figuring out the best way to get there, Roarke missed the frown that etched it's way across Levis' face as she moved to the remains of a low dividing wall. Turning to watch her stretch out in the cool shade, he couldn't stop the heavyhearted sigh not the slight tic at the edge of his eye. He never had been good at the whole cheering people up thing. Absently raking back the loosened hair from his face, he moved to sit near her. The not forgotten length of his weapon carefully drawn from his back and set it at his side, his eyes locked upon the mountains reflected in the parking lot pool.

"I meant it, you know. It'd be smart to just let the rest of us fight. Bide your time and hopefully the rest of us will go first."

Grabbing hold of his hand, she pulled him down so that she could settle her head on his knee, "No, I'm not strong enough, or fast enough, or willing enough. You could though. Survive. Then district 4 would have a winner. I could stay near you and maybe take a spear for you or something but I won't win, I already know that."

She had surprised him but he didn't pull away nor did he refuse letting her use him as an impromptu pillow. His weapon carefully lay down along the wall so a hesitant hand could brush her hair back from her temple. "Tell you what, forget the whole taking a spear for me thing right now and we'll... talk more about it later."

The soft sound of her light giggle reached his ears but he kept from looking down at her even when she spoke, "Okay. So, what would you like to talk about then?"

That small smile which touched his lips when she laughed faded to confusion again. "Talk about? Um... I've, uh, never really just talked to anyone... I guess, um, I really don't know."

"Hm, I don't really know either." A sigh that reminded him of his own frustrated sounds broached her lips, "maybe we should sleep. Or you should sleep and I'll keep guard for a while."

It was low and faint but a small chuckle rumbled in his throat as his fingers gently began to comb through her hair. "You sleep. I'll keep watch for a bit. I still want to get to a more secure place before it gets dark."

Flinching as Roarke's fingers pull through a knot in her hair, Levis gingerly sat up, "Maybe we should keep moving then."

"Yea, it's not much further." Pointing out the train yard in the distance, he took up his weapon again and stood slowly, peeking over the edge of the wall to be sure it was clear. "We'll follow the river between the buildings. We can use one of those rail cars tonight."

Giving her a moment to secure the pack she had been carrying, he was soon starting around the edge of the pond. A trained eye kept watch for any sign of fish or turtles in the mirror like surface and was gifted with a few hopeful hints. A small patch of an island rested just a short distance from the park's shoreline and beyond that lay a mess of man made islands. Old abandoned cars still sitting in the shallow waters that spilled over the edge of the ravine where cement spacers had given way to eroded layers of mud. In the heat of the season, the river had shrunk enough to leave them a slim line of cool mud to walk along. The riverbed deep enough that they didn't have to duck too much, well at least Levis didn't have to.

Her much shorter height trailing after him took the chance to break the silence, "Can you give me any information on the other tributes? Like who I should look out for and such?"

Grateful that she kept her voice down, he didn't respond right away but not because he didn't know. He had to think about it for a moment. There had been a few that stood out to him but evaluating the others how they might effect her was a small trip into the realm of imagination for him. "I didn't really take the time to talk to any of them but that kid from District 8. He just looks imbalanced. Out of all of them I'd say run like hell if he crosses your path."

"Is that it?"

"Well, you have the girl from District 3 and the giant from 7..." Just thinking about the tallest tribute of the group sent a chill up his spine. It wasn't too often that he had to look up to anyone of his age but that was one tall kid. Not to forget that he looked more then capable. Shoving his own worries to the back of his mind he continued, "I'd also think that both tributes from District 9 might pose a bit of a threat for you... Maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"Back at the supplies, when I went in for my weapon, I bumped into the guy from 9."

"WHAT?!" Worry flooded her eyes as she forced him to pause so she could give him a quick once over, making sure he hadn't been hurt. "You don't look like you're hurt. What happened?"

"Well, nothing. We just stared at each other, then I backed away and left." A confused frown etched his face as he offered her his hand to help her back up the ravine once they got past the crumbling walls of what he now suspected to be an old factory not just warehouses. Rows of rusted, dilapidated rail cars lay stretched out before them on lines of mottled iron tracks and dusty gravel.

Before he could react, she had slipped under his defenses, hugged him and drew back again. The tension that had been on her face had faded away to be replaced with a mock glare, "I'm sure you would have held your own though."

In that instant, it was quite apparent to him that Levis would be a bag of surprises, her glare only met with a crook of his brow and a small smirk, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, squirt."

Reaching out to ruffle her hair, he turned back to the job at hand. Finding the first reliable looking rail car they could. Some were rusting. Some dilapidated. Some open sided or closed. Others covered in tell tale holes that shot clean through them. Slipping between a few gaps but keeping to the inner rows, he eventually found what he was looking for. Testing the door it gave about a foot then froze up, he took a step back to look down the row at the other cars before giving it another try. The sharp sound of metal on metal grating on the ears as loose gravel skidded under his boots.

"Well at least we'll hear anyone that tries to get in."

"Lets hope no one tries in the first place."

"No promises."

Stepping aside, he offered to let her get in first. It was a bit tight for him but with that last effort it had given another few inches; rust tinting his palms orange. As soon as he was inside, he took one more brief moment to be certain no one had followed them before sliding the door closed again finding it far easier then it had been to open it. A few streamers of light penetrated the thin steel walls here and there. Dotting there path to the back of the car where they could stay hidden along the same wall as the door.

"I figure we can wait in here until it gets dark outside. The others wills probably try to sleep then and we'll be able to find something better."

"Well, we should really get some rest then. I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure I can't make it through this entire tournament sleepless."

"I was thinking the same thing." Settling his back to the wall and his weapon at his side, he let himself stretch out his legs and back with a few small pops. With a sidelong glance her way for a brief moment, he tries to get a bit more comfortable finally stretching out on his back completely, his arm tucked up under his head, "I'll wake you up before I head out later. You just worry about getting some sleep.

"Thank you..." stifling a yawn it wasn't too long before she had drifted off to sleep with him following soon after.

A Second Meeting

The sound of cannon fire woke him some time after the sun had finally set. Each pounding beat announcing the death of a tribute. He knew that he should keep track of how many but his mind was more focused on what each shot represented. How many people in the Capital were disappointed in their tributes? How many of them had lost money betting on who would last the longest? How many had won? Knowing that he wouldn't get back to sleep now, Roarke carefully sat up, his hands rubbing his face in an attempt to completely banish the lingering fatigue.

Small sounds of fitful slumber grabbed his attention and he found himself surprised that Levis was still asleep at his side. She looked peaceful like that and for just a little while longer, he wanted her to have a chance to relax. Therefore, instead of waking her as he promised he would, he took up his leister and water and moved to slowly work the door open. The metal wanted to protest but he was patient and only opened it far enough for him to suck it in and squeeze out. Apparently, years of perfecting sneaking around his father's boats had paid off as he slipped out into the darkened rows. With the door closed once more, he tramped down the fear of leaving her alone. She would be safe for now so long as she stayed in the car.

Roarke on the other hand was off to find a better place for them to hide. He even debated returning to the Cornucopia to see if there were any supplies left lying about, or if the Game Maker's minions had come and taken them all away. Better shelter first, then supplies. Nodding to himself, he took a steadying breath and moved through the rail cars towards where the forest had begun to encroach once more on the disintegrating service road and field that divided the factory from the mountain. Little did he know that their audience was still very much awake.

"Sir, we have movement from one of the tributes of District 4."

A pair of cosmetically enhanced eyes, the color of cotton candy, shifted through feathery bangs of vibrant blue to settle upon the young man at the console for a brief moment before, Cassus Ludus turned to see whom he was referring. His stoic face shifting ever so faintly with a lift of his brow as he noticed Roarke's tribute photo following the dot that was him across the screen. "Is he the only one?"

"Yes, Sir, the girl  is still where they stopped earlier."

"She's alive?"

"…Yes, Sir."

"Disappointing," not missing the mild look of shock on the worker's face, he refrained from saying anything. While he, himself, had disagreed somewhat with the games, he knew that a disappointing show could bring the President's ire down on him. That was the last thing that he wanted. "What do we have in that grid?"

Looking back to the console, the technician sifted through files until he found what Cassus might approve of. "We were planning on saving this one for later, Sir but if you want to give him a challenge…"

As the technician's voice trailed off a set of ominous specs flickered onto the screen. A Muttation bred between several species that thrived in the rough terrain of the mountains. A creature that very few outside of the Capital's military forces knew about; mostly because those it was used against rarely lived to spread the word. Used to flush out lingering rebels hiding in the mountains and mines it was a perfect selection for the terrain.

Giving his approval with a simple nod, Cassus watched as a few taps of the fingers released their little surprise upon the tribute cautiously wandering closer to the mountain. The town had once mined coal, uranium and even a little gold. The mountains were riddled with condemned shafts and rickety shacks falling to the hands of time. It was in these caves that the creature stirred and made its way out into the moonlit woods.

Roarke was completely oblivious to the danger that drew closer to him. Other wildlife stirred as he interrupted their nightly foraging or stepped too close to their dens but that was all. High above him, in the canopy of thick leaves and sharp needles, he was certain that he had heard the unmistakable call of an owl. Suddenly, everything went silent. Even more silent then it had been. It was a level of quiet where even the singing of crickets died to nothing.

A vicious tremor raged up his spine at the change in atmosphere. Something was not right. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He could feel himself being watched. The almost musical tinkling of chain link unraveled to the ground as his weapon was drawn to his side. Pole in one hand, he brandished the trident tip before him as his knife hung loose and ready in his other. Surprisingly, to him, he found himself hoping that it was just an animal. A bear even. Anything…

He was about to learn that one should always be careful what they wish for. A ribbon of moonlight illuminated a cold, calculating set of eyes about twenty feet directly a head of him. They were a good distance off the ground and they weren't small. Human eyes didn't glow in the light. Human's didn't growl and the rumble that filled the distance between them was unlike anything he'd every heard before.

"What the hell are you," he muttered beneath his breath.

His answer would come forth on strongly veined paws. Clawed with vicious nails that shimmered with a faint green tint against the pitch black of the creature's coat. It's face looked like something out of Doctor Morue's laboratory. Long fangs looked like miniature tusks on either side of it's upper lip. Lethal teeth flashed as it growled once more, its head low and shoulders tight, ready to pounce if he moved. There, upon it's brow, was a curved horn. The deeply rutted twists arching high, nearly a foot and a half from his head, curved back towards tufted ears…

"The Shadavar. Based upon an old creature of myth from Persia; an evil, carnivorous unicorn of sorts," explained Cassus as he watched. More intrigued by the dark furred beast then the tribute that it was moving closer towards, he patted the technician on the shoulder in approval. "If I remember right, it is the mix between a horse, a mountain lion and little bit of viper added in for extra… bite."

"Extra bite?"

Nodding to the question that rose from behind him, the Game Maker kept his eyes locked on the impending action just as the audience would be. "It's bite is venomous. It necropsies the flesh and kills with an hour. That is if you're still in one piece to die from the venom."

Several of the technicians went pale at the implication but knew better then to speak up or interfere. While Roarke was at a total loss as to how to handle this beast that stood ready to strike. Its tuft tipped tail twitching in anticipation just off the ground. He took a step back and found the creature's ears tipped forwards in sudden interest. It wanted him to run so that it could chase. It was too close. Barely fifteen feet away, he was more then certain that it was within its striking distance. The line of drool that shimmered down its revealed fangs chilled his blood.

He had to do something. Just standing there wouldn't save him. More then certain he was about to be mauled to death, he threw caution to the wind and feigned left. The two steps he'd taken was all the creature needed to close the distance. Lunging at him, gaping maw open and ready to bite down, as claws lay extended to sink into vulnerable flesh. It possibly cost him a twisted ankle but as the Shadavar lunged, he buried his heels in deep and slammed himself backwards out of it's way. An aggravated roar vibrated in his chest as it skidded on the loose ground covering and scattered gravel trying to gain purchase to turn about and lunge again. Roarke had landed hard, rolling away and right down a slight embankment on the edge of the service road giving him a few precious seconds to get to his feet and run.

However, seconds were seconds, not minutes and soon after the, now irritated, beast was hot on his heels. It had been a miracle that he'd gotten the chain back up across his chest, let alone the knife blade into it's scabbard as he raced through thick bushes and briars, weaving between the sentinel like trunks of trees in hopes of losing his pursuer. His hopes were for not. While he was being torn up by thorns and branches, the Shadavar seemed completely ignorant of the sharp extensions. He'd have to stand his ground…

He got to his stomach and crawled about two feet before realizing that the impact never came. He'd heard it but it never hit him. Eyes as wide as saucers turned to a whole new scene behind him. A broad figure had his arms locked around the creatures neck and was being flung about like a ragdoll on the ground and in the air. Someone had intervened. Someone was in just as much trouble as he had been in.

Scrambling to his feet, weapon in hand, the sheer pain making him limp profusely, he raced as fast as he could to where he'd buried his knife. Sweat coated his forehead and slicked his hair and back. Spots flickered before his eyes, he couldn't remember anything hurting as much as it did right then. The cold touch of metal soon filled both hands again though and turning just in time to avoid being rammed into the tree at his back, he shouted out to the person who'd come to his aid, trying to get his attention.

In a flicker of moonlight, he realized just who it was looking back at him. Colin! No… Caleb! It was the tribute from District 9! Lifting his knife for him to see he hollered for him to catch it just before the lethal blade went airborne in an arching fall.

He didn't wait to see if he caught it. The hook of his weapon buried hard against the base of a tree was set in prime position as the beast pushed out to slam into him. Prongs punctured through ribs, lungs and heart as Roarke rolled away at the last moment. A vicious cry of pain went silent as the heavy crash of the Shadavar's body hit the ground.

Once more, everything was silent. The utter din of his harsh breathing and racing heart nearly unbearable in the complete lack of sound surrounding him. Adrenalin began to wane and the cold stickiness of blood clung to his face, throat and leg. Burning scratches from briars and brambles were nothing compared to the severity of his leg. How in the world was he going to get back to the train yard? A better question was how in the hell was he going to finish this game like this? He almost wanted to laugh… Almost. Unfortunately, the shifting sound of chain link cut that thought short.

Tipping his head so that he could see which of the two others was getting up, he was relieved to see that it was Caleb. The silent tribute looked a little worse for wear after being tossed around so much. Blood splattered across his forearm, chest and face; smearing his hands as he gathered the length of chain from the ground before wresting the length of the leister free from the cooling corpse. It was a curious sight to say the least. Perhaps later, Roarke would look back and wonder why he wasn't afraid of that broad figure stepping over to him with weapon in hand. For now, he just wasn't.

"So… Do you think we can eat it?"

Caleb's steps came up short at the odd question, and for a moment he looked back at the massive thing they had just faced. Roarke was certain he'd seen a shutter shimmy up his spine at the thought and couldn’t hide his laughter. The deep tenor echoing around them was joined by the renewal of the night's chorus bringing Caleb's attention back to him. The bloodied blade and staff set against a tree before Caleb flopped down next to him so that he could catch his breath. Both tributes just happy to be alive at the moment. At least for now neither would be looking to finish off the other.

FIN

(for now)