Голодные игры
Chapter 11
ThreshandRue.Rue.soshemadeitthroughthefirstdayafterall.Ican’thelpfeelingglad.Thatmakestenofus.TheotherthreeI’llfigureouttomorrow.Nowwhenitisdark,andIhavetraveledfar,andIamnestledhighinthistree,nowImusttryandrest.
Ihaven’treallysleptintwodays,andthenthere’sbeenthelongday’sjourneyintothearena.Slowly,Iallowmymusclestorelax.Myeyestoclose.ThelastthingIthinkisit’sluckyIdon’tsnore.
Snap!Thesoundofabreakingbranchwakesme.HowlonghaveIbeenasleep?Fourhours?Five?Thetipofmynoseisicycold.Snap!Snap!What’sgoingon?Thisisnotthesoundofabranchundersomeone’sfoot,butthesharpcrackofonecomingfromatree.Snap!Snap!Ijudgeittobeseveralhundredyardstomyright.Slowly,noiselessly,Iturnmyselfinthatdirection.Forafewminutes,there’snothingbutblacknessandsomescuffling.ThenIseeasparkandasmallfirebeginstobloom.Apairofhandswarmsoverflames,butIcan’tmakeoutmorethanthat.
IhavetobitemylipnottoscreameveryfoulnameIknowatthefirestarter.Whataretheythinking?AfireI’lljustatnightfallwouldhavebeenonething.ThosewhobattledattheCornucopia,withtheirsuperiorstrengthandsurplusofsupplies,theycouldn’tpossiblyhavebeennearenoughtospottheflamesthen.Butnow,whenthey’veprobablybeencombingthewoodsforhourslookingforvictims.Youmightaswellbewavingaflagandshouting,"Comeandgetme!"
AndhereIamastone’sthrowfromthebiggestidiotintheGames.
