The countdown was deafening with my cuore pounding in my chest. I bit down on my lip creating the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. My black suit hugged me tightly than needed. It felt like my chest was heaving only a little since the outfit acted like a bacheca against breathing.
I started heaving once the countdown reached 5 and I look desperately towards Ryder who had already a plan. He scanned the area with such hope in his eyes, I knew it was fake. Ryder was the son of three generations of Hunger Games winners. I could see the gears in his head activating and slowly, coming up with an...