Голодные игры

           I’mbarelyonmyfeetbeforethethirdballhitsthegroundwhereIwaslying,sendingapillaroffireupbehindme.TimelosesmeaningnowasIfranticallytrytododgetheattacks.Ican’tseewherethey’rebeinglaunchedfrom,butit’snotahovercraft.Theanglesarenotextremeenough.Probablythiswholesegmentofthewoodshasbeenarmedwithprecisionlaunchersthatareconcealedintreesorrocks.Somewhere,inacoolandspotlessroom,aGamemakersitsatasetofcontrols,fingersonthetriggersthatcouldendmylifeinasecond.Allthatisneededisadirecthit.

           WhatevervagueplanIhadconceivedregardingreturningtomypondiswipedfrommymindasIzigzaganddiveandleaptoavoidthefireballs.Eachoneisonlythesizeofanapple,butpackstremendouspoweroncontact.EverysenseIhavegoesintooverdriveastheneedtosurvivetakesover.There’snotimetojudgeifamoveisthecorrectone.Whenthere’sahiss,Iactordie.

           Somethingkeepsmemovingforward,though.AlifetimeofwatchingtheHungerGamesletsmeknowthatcertainareasofthearenaareriggedforcertainattacks.AndthatifIcanjustgetawayfromthissection,Imightbeabletomoveoutofreachofthelaunchers.Imightalsothenfallstraightintoapitofvipers,butIcan’tworryaboutthatnow.

           HowlongIscramblealongdodgingthefireballsIcan’tsay,buttheattacksfinallybegintoabate.Whichisgood,becauseI’mretchingagain.Thistimeit’sanacidicsubstancethatscaldsmythroatandmakesitswayintomynoseaswell.