Chapter 11

           Sixtyseconds.That’showlongwe’rerequiredtostandonourmetalcirclesbeforethesoundofagongreleasesus.Stepoffbeforetheminuteisup,andlandminesblowyourlegsoff.SixtysecondstotakeintheringoftributesallequidistantfromtheCornucopia,agiantgoldenhornshapedlikeaconewithacurvedtail,themouthofwhichisatleasttwentyfeethigh,spillingoverwiththethingsthatwillgiveuslifehereinthearena.Food,containersofwater,weapons,medicine,garments,firestarters.StrewnaroundtheCornucopiaareothersupplies,theirvaluedecreasingthefarthertheyarefromthehorn.Forinstance,onlyafewstepsfrommyfeetlaysathree-footsquareofplastic.Certainlyitcouldbeofsomeuseinadownpour.Butthereinthemouth,Icanseeatentpackthatwouldprotectfromalmostanysortofweather.IfIhadthegutstogoinandfightforitagainsttheothertwenty-threetributes.WhichIhavebeeninstructednottodo.

           We’reonaflat,openstretchofground.Aplainofhard-packeddirt.Behindthetributesacrossfromme,Icanseenothing,indicatingeitherasteepdownwardslopeorevencliff.Tomyrightliesalake.Tomyleftandback,sparspineywoods.ThisiswhereHaymitchwouldwantmetogo.Immediately.

           Ihearhisinstructionsinmyhead."Justclearout,putasmuchdistanceasyoucanbetweenyourselvesandtheothers,andfindasourceofwater."

           Butit’stempting,sotempting,whenIseethebountywaitingtherebeforeme.AndIknowthatifIdon’tgetit,someoneelsewill.