Голодные игры
Chapter 1
Suppleleatherthathasmoldedtomyfeet. Ipullontrousers,ashirt,tuckmylongdarkbraidupintoacap, andgrabmyforagebag. Onthetable,underawoodenbowltoprotectitfromhungryrats andcatsalike,sitsaperfectlittlegoatcheesewrappedinbasilleaves. Prim’sgifttomeonreapingday. IputthecheesecarefullyinmypocketasIslipoutside.
OurpartofDistrict12,nicknamedtheSeam, isusuallycrawlingwithcoalminersheadingouttothemorningshiftatthishour. Menandwomenwithhunchedshoulders,swollenknuckles, manywhohavelongsincestoppedtryingtoscrubthecoaldustoutoftheirbrokennails, thelinesoftheirsunkenfaces. Buttodaytheblackcinderstreetsareempty. Shuttersonthesquatgrayhousesareclosed. Thereapingisn’tuntiltwo. Mayaswellsleepin. Ifyoucan.
OurhouseisalmostattheedgeoftheSeam. IonlyhavetopassafewgatestoreachthescruffyfieldcalledtheMeadow. SeparatingtheMeadowfromthewoods,infactenclosingallofDistrict12,isahighchain-linkfencetoppedwithbarbed-wireloops. Intheory,it’ssupposedtobeelectrifiedtwenty-fourhoursaday asadeterrenttothepredatorsthatliveinthewoods -packsofwilddogs,lonecougars,bears-thatusedtothreatenourstreets. Butsincewe’reluckytogettwoorthreehoursofelectricityintheevenings, it’susuallysafetotouch. Evenso,Ialwaystakeamomenttolistencarefullyforthehumthatmeansthefenceislive. Rightnow,it’ssilentasastone.
