SILVER • THE HUNGER GAMES ¹

06. | MOTHER, OH MOTHER!

BOOK ONE

CHAPTER SIX

( MOTHER, OH MOTHER! )

TEN TYPES OF KILLERS. There are only ten types - that is according to Bradley. Years and years of studying that clipboard of his and tallying up every Hunger Games' stat under the harsh Capitol sun. Twenty-four Tributes and only ten types.

     First, you have those who are born to kill. Venomous, biting, savage to the bone. These are the Tributes that run off reckless revenge, the children who spit at the face of childhood. The blood they spill is akin to the water the rest drink. What is a snake without its bite?

     Bradley's rule: outsmart.

     Second? The ones who are trained to kill. Children raised to fight for the glory of their fathers, and murder for the pride of their mothers. A sword becomes as natural to hold as a pen - sharper, heavier and deadlier. Soldiers sent to seduce death's plentiful harvest.

     Bradley's rule: outnumber.

     Third, are those who need to kill. They kill to stay alive. Death to live. There's a fire in their belly and corpses are thrown to try and douse it out. Kill or be killed, fight the sweet fight. They have nothing and yet everything to lose.

     Bradley's rule: run.

     The first three types of killers are not hard to spot on Silver's first day of training. You can see it in their eyes, the way irises lift and fall to view the victim. Some stand a little funny like there's a spot on their backs that they can't quite scratch — leant forward, nostrils flaring, eyes not sure where to rest. A few find comfort in the pain of others, pushing and shoving as they file into the training hall one by one.

     When Silver thinks of James, she sees the fourth type of killer in him. The Reluctant Killer — those with too many questions and a craving to understand why one might kill in the first place.

     "Can we trust anyone?" he says from behind her as they walk. She can feel his pace quicken, the appropriate companion to his hushed whisper, and his words land in a warm breath on the flat of her shoulder. "I've been watching the girl from Four -"

     "I don't want to hear about your crushes," says Silver, turning her head over her shoulder. He has the eyes and curiosity of a philosopher, it seems. His eagerness is frustrating.

     Cheeks flash a hazed red. "I don't have a crush."

     "Alright." Silver laughs and James flushes even more. "I was only joking."

     He raises a hesitant brow, letting his eyes flick over Silver's expression for a moment. He lowers his head and brings his lips to a whisper.

     "There's no need to be so mean."