Голодные игры
Chapter 11
Thewoodsbegintoevolve,andthepinesareintermixedwithavarietyoftrees,someIrecognize,somecompletelyforeigntome.Atonepoint,Ihearanoiseandpullmyknife,thinkingImayhavetodefendmyself,butI’veonlystartledarabbit."Goodtoseeyou,"Iwhisper.Ifthere’sonerabbit,therecouldbehundredsjustwaitingtobesnared.
Thegroundslopesdown.Idon’tparticularlylikethis.Valleysmakemefeeltrapped.Iwanttobehigh,likeinthehillsaroundDistrict12,whereIcanseemyenemiesapproaching.ButIhavenochoicebuttokeepgoing.
Funnythough,Idon’tfeeltoobad.Thedaysofgorgingmyselfhavepaidoff.I’vegotstayingpowereventhoughI’mshortonsleep.Beinginthewoodsisrejuvenating.I’mgladforthesolitude,eventhoughit’sanillusion,becauseI’mprobablyon-screenrightnow.Notconsistentlybutoffandon.Therearesomanydeathstoshowthefirstdaythatatributetrekkingthroughthewoodsisn’tmuchtolookat.Butthey’llshowmeenoughtoletpeopleknowI’malive,uninjuredandonthemove.Oneoftheheaviestdaysofbettingistheopening,whentheinitialcasualtiescomein.Butthatcan’tcomparetowhathappensasthefieldshrinkstoahandfulofplayers.
It’slateafternoonwhenIbegintohearthecannons.Eachshotrepresentsadeadtribute.ThefightingmusthavefinallystoppedattheCornucopia.Theynevercollectthebloodbathbodiesuntilthekillershavedispersed.
