友情提示：如果本网页打开太慢或显示不完整，请尝试鼠标右键“刷新”本网页！
the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第14部分
快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！
He starts but doesnˇt turn。 I can see him give his head a slight shake。 ¨I didnˇt want to miss the party。 Itˇs for us； after all。〃
I e up beside him and lean over the edge of the rail。 The wide streets are full of dancing people。 I squint to make out their tiny figures in more detail。 ¨Are they in costumes？〃
¨Who could tell？〃 Peeta answers。 ¨With all the crazy clothes they wear here。 Couldnˇt sleep； either？〃
¨Couldnˇt turn my mind off；〃 I say。
¨Thinking about your family？〃 he asks。
¨No；〃 I admit a bit guiltily。 ¨All I can do is wonder about tomorrow。 Which is pointless； of course。〃 In the light from below； I can see his face now； the awkward way he holds his bandaged hands。 ¨I really am sorry about your hands。〃
¨It doesnˇt matter； Katniss；〃 he says。 ¨Iˇve never been a contender in these Games anyway。〃
¨Thatˇs no way to be thinking；〃 I say。
¨Why not？ Itˇs true。 My best hope is to not disgrace myself and 。 。 。〃 He hesitates。
¨And what？〃 I say。
¨I donˇt know how to say it exactly。 Only 。 。 。 I want to die as myself。 Does that make any sense？〃 he asks。 I shake my head。 How could he die as anyone but himself？ ¨I donˇt want them to change me in there。 Turn me into some kind of monster that Iˇm not。〃
I bite my lip feeling inferior。 While Iˇve been ruminating on the availability of trees； Peeta has been struggling with how to maintain his identity。 His purity of self。 ¨Do you mean you wonˇt kill anyone？〃 I ask。
¨No； when the time es； Iˇm sure Iˇll kill just like everybody else。 I canˇt go down without a fight。 Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to 。 。 。 to show the Capitol they donˇt own me。 That Iˇm more than just a piece in their Games；〃 says Peeta。
¨But youˇre not；〃 I say。 ¨None of us are。 Thatˇs how the Games work。〃
¨Okay； but within that framework； thereˇs still you； thereˇs still me；〃 he insists。 ¨Donˇt you see？〃
¨A little。 Only 。 。 。 no offense； but who cares； Peeta？〃 I say。
¨I do。 I mean； what else am I allowed to care about at this point？〃 he asks angrily。 Heˇs locked those blue eyes on mine now； demanding an answer。
I take a step back。 ¨Care about what Haymitch said。 About staying alive。〃
Peeta smiles at me； sad and mocking。 ¨Okay。 Thanks for the tip； sweetheart。〃
Itˇs like a slap in the face。 His use of Haymitchˇs patronizing endearment。 ¨Look； if you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena； thatˇs your choice。 I want to spend mine in District Twelve。〃
¨Wouldnˇt surprise me if you do；〃 says Peeta。 ¨Give my mother my best when you make it back； will you？〃
¨Count on it；〃 I say。 Then I turn and leave the roof。 I spend the rest of the night slipping in and out of a doze； imagining the cutting remarks I will make to Peeta Mellark in the morning。 Peeta Mellark。 We will see how high and mighty he is when he's faced with life and death。 He'll probably turn into one of those raging beast tributes； the kind who tries to eat someone's heart after they've killed them。 There was a guy like that a few years ago from District 6 called Titus。 He went pletely savage and the Gamemakers had to have him stunned with electric guns to collect the bodies of the players he'd killed before he ate them。 There are no rules in the arena； but cannibalism doesn't play well with the Capitol audience； so they tried to head it off。 There was some speculation that the avalanche that finally took Titus out was specifically engineered to ensure the victor was not a lunatic。
I don't see Peeta in the morning。 Cinna es to me before dawn； gives me a simple shift to wear； and guides me to the roof。 My final dressing and preparations will be alone in the catabs under the arena itself。 A hovercraft appears out of thin air； just like the one did in the woods the day I saw the redheaded Avox girl captured； and a ladder drops down。 I place my hands and feet on the lower rungs and instantly it's as if I'm frozen。 Some sort of current glues me to the ladder while I'm lifted safely inside。
I expect the ladder to release me then； but I'm still stuck when a woman in a white coat approaches me carrying a syringe。 〃This is just your tracker； Katniss。 The stiller you are； the more efficiently I can place it；〃 she says。
Still？ I'm a statue。 But that doesn't prevent me from feeling the sharp stab of pain as the needle inserts the metal tracking device deep under the skin on the inside of my forearm。 Now the Gamemakers will always be able to trace my whereabouts in the arena。 Wouldnˇt want to lose a tribute。
As soon as the trackerˇs in place； the ladder releases me。 The woman disappears and Cinna is retrieved from the roof； An Avox boy es in and directs us to a room where breakfast has been laid out。 Despite the tension in my stomach； I eat as much as I can； although none of the delectable food makes any impression on me。 Iˇm so nervous； I could be eating coal dust。 The one thing that distracts me at all is the view from the windows as we sail over the city and then to the wilderness beyond。 This is what birds see。 Only theyˇre free and safe。 The very opposite of me。
The ride lasts about half an hour before the windows black out； suggesting that weˇre nearing the arena。 The hovercraft lands and Cinna and I go back to the ladder； only this time it leads down into a tube underground； into the catabs that lie beneath the arena。 We follow instructions to my destination； a chamber for my preparation。 In the Capitol； they call it the Launch Room。 In the districts； itˇs referred to as the Stockyard。 The place animals go before slaughter。
Everything is brand…new； I will be the first and only tribute to use this Launch Room。 The arenas are historic sites； preserved after the Games。 Popular destinations for Capitol residents to visit； to vacation。 Go for a month； rewatch the Games； tour the catabs； visit the sites where the deaths took place。 You can even take part in reenactments。 They say the food is excellent。
I struggle to keep my breakfast down as I shower and clean my teeth。 Cinna does my hair in my simple trademark braid down my back。 Then the clothes arrive； the same for every tribute。 Cinna has had no say in my outfit； does not even know what will be in the package； but he helps me dress in the undergarments； simple tawny pants； light green blouse； sturdy brown belt； and thin； hooded black jacket that falls to my thighs。 ¨The material in the jacketˇs designed to reflect body heat。 Expect some cool nights；〃 he says。
The boots； worn over skintight socks； are better than I could have hoped for。 Soft leather not unlike my ones at home。 These have a narrow flexible rubber sole with treads though。 Good for running。
I think Iˇm finished when Cinna pulls the gold mockingjay pin from his pocket。 I had pletely forgotten about it。
¨Where did you get that？〃 I ask。
¨Off the green outfit you wore on the train；〃 he says。 I remember now taking it off my motherˇs dress； pinning it to the shirt。 ¨Itˇs your district token； right？〃 I nod and he fastens it on my shirt。 ¨It barely cleared the review board。 Some thought the pin could be used as a weapon； giving you an unfair advantage。 But eventually； they let it through；〃 says Cinna。 ¨They eliminated a ring from that District One girl； though。 If you twisted the gemstone； a spike popped out。 Poisoned one。 She claimed she had no knowledge the ring transformed and there was no way to prove she did。 But she lost her token。 There； youˇre all set。 Move around。 Make sure everything feels fortable。〃
I walk； run in a circle； swing my arms about。 ¨Yes； itˇs fine。 Fits perfectly。〃
¨Then thereˇs nothing to do but wait for the call；〃 says Cinna。 ¨Unless you think you could eat any more？〃
I turn down food but accept a glass of water that I take tiny sips of as we wait on a couch。 I donˇt want to chew on my nails or lips； so I find myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek。 It still hasnˇt fully healed from a few days ago。 Soon the taste of blood fills my mouth。
Nervousness seeps into terror as I anticipate what is to e。 I could be dead； flat…out dead； in an hour。 Not even。 My fingers obsessively trace the hard little lump on my forearm where the woman injected the tracking device。 I press on it； even though it hurts； I press on it so hard a small bruise begins to form。
¨Do you want to talk； Katniss？〃 Cinna asks。
I shake my head but after a moment hold out my hand to him。 Cinna encloses it in both of his。 And this is how we sit until a pleasant female voice announces itˇs time to prepare for launch。
Still clenching one of Cinnaˇs hands； I walk over and stand on the circular metal plate。 ¨Remember what Haymitch said。 Run； find water。 The rest will follow；〃 he says。 I nod。 ¨And remember this。 Iˇm not allowed to bet； but if I could； my money would be on you。〃
¨Truly？〃 I whisper。
¨Truly；〃 says Cinna。 He leans down and kisses me on the forehead。 ¨Good luck； girl on fire。〃 And then a glass cylinder is lowering around me； breaking our handhold； cutting him off from me。 He taps his fingers under his chin。 Head high。
I lift my chin and stand as straight as I can。 The cylinder begins to rise。 For maybe fifteen seconds； Iˇm in darkness and then I can feel the metal plate pushing me out of the cylinder； into the open air。 For a moment； my eyes are dazzled by the bright sunlight and Iˇm conscious only of a strong wind with the hopeful smell of pine trees。
Then I hear the legendary announcer； Claudius Templesmith； as his voice booms all around me。
¨Ladies and gentlemen； let the Seventy…fourth Hunger Games begin！〃
11
Sixty seconds。 Thatˇs how long weˇre required to stand on our metal circles before the sound of a gong releases us。 Step off before the minute is up； and land mines blow your legs off。 Sixty seconds to take in the ring of tributes all equidistant from the Cornucopia； a giant golden horn shaped like a cone with a curved tail； the mouth of which is at least twenty feet high； spilling over with the things that will give us life here in the arena。 Food； containers of water； weapons； medicine； garments； fire starters。 Strewn around the Cornucopia are other supplies； their value decreasing the farther they are from the horn。 For instance； only a few steps from my feet lays a threefoot square of plastic。 Certainly it could be of some use in a downpour。 But there in the mouth； I can see a tent pack that would protect from almost any sort of weather。 If I had the guts to go in and fight for it against the other twenty…three tributes。 Which I have been instructed not to do。
Weˇre on a flat； open stretch of ground。 A plain of hardpacked dirt。 Behind the tributes across from me； I can see nothing； indicating either a steep downward slope or even cliff。 To my right lies a lake。 To my left and back； spars piney woods。 This is where Haymitch would want me to go。 Immediately。
I hear his instructions in my head。 ¨Just clear out； put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others； and find a source of water。〃
But itˇs tempting； so tempting； when I see the bounty waiting there before me。 And I know that if I donˇt get it； someone else will。 That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life…sustaining spoils。 Something catches my eye。 There； resting on a mound of blanket rolls； is a silver sheath of arrows and a bow； already strung； just waiting to be engaged。 Thatˇs mine； I think。 Itˇs meant for me。
Iˇm fast。 I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races。 But this forty…yard length； this is what I am built for。 I know I can get it； I know I can reach it first； but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there？ By the time Iˇve scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons； others will have reached the horn； and one or two I might be able to pick off； but say thereˇs a dozen； at that close range； they could take me down with the spears and the clubs。 Or their own powerful fists。
Still； I wonˇt be the only target。 Iˇm betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl； even one who scored an eleven in training； to take out their more fierce adversaries。
Haymitch has never seen me run。 Maybe if he had heˇd tell me to go for it。 Get the weapon。 Since thatˇs the very weapon that might be my salvation。 And I only see one bow in that whole pile。 I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run； not away into the stir rounding forests but toward the pile； toward the bow。 When suddenly I notice Peeta； heˇs about five tributes to my right； quite a fair distance； still I can tell heˇs looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head。 But the sunˇs in my eyes； and while Iˇm puzzling over it the gong rings out。
And Iˇve missed it！ Iˇve missed my chance！ Because those extra couple of seconds Iˇve lost by not being ready are enough to change my mind about going in。 My feet shuffle for a moment； confused at the direction my brain wants to take and then I lunge forward； scoop up the sheet of plastic and a loaf of bread。 The pickings are so small and Iˇm so angry with Peeta for distracting me that I sprint in twenty yards to retrieve a bright orange backpack that could hold anything because I canˇt stand leaving with virtually nothing。
A boy； I think from District 9； reaches the pack at the same time I do and for a brief time we grapple for it and then he coughs； splattering my face with blood。 I stagger back； repulsed by the warm； sticky spray。 Then the boy slips to the ground。 Thatˇs when I see the knife in his back。 Already other tributes have reached the Cornucopia and are spreading out to attack。 Yes； the girl from District 2； ten yards away； running toward me； one hand clutching a half…dozen knives。 Iˇve seen her throw in training。 She never misses。 And Iˇm her next target。
All the general fear Iˇve been feeling condenses into at immediate fear of this girl； this predator who might kill me in seconds。 Adrenaline shoots through me and I sling the pack over one shoulder and run full…speed for the woods。 I can hear the blade whistling toward me and reflexively hike the pack up to protect my head。 The blade lodges in the pack。 Both straps on my shoulders now； I make for the trees。 Somehow I know the girl will not pursue me。 That sheˇll be drawn back into the Cornucopia before all the good stuff is gone。 A grin crosses my face。 Thanks for the knife； I think。
At the edge of the woods I turn for one instant to survey the field。 About a dozen or so tributes are hacking away at one another at the horn。 Several lie dead already on the ground。 Those who have taken flight are disappearing into the trees or into the void opposite me。 I continue running until the woods have hidden me from the other tributes then slow into a steady jog that I think I can maintain for a while。 For the next few hours； I alternate between jogging and walking； putting as much distance as I can between myself and my petitors。 I lost my bread during the struggle with the boy from District 9 but managed to stuff my plastic in my sleeve so as I walk I fold it neatly and tuck it into a pocket。 I also free the knife itˇs a fine one with a long sharp blade； serrated near the handle； w
快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
温馨提示： 温看小说的同时发表评论，说出自己的看法和其它小伙伴们分享也不错哦！发表书评还可以获得积分和经验奖励，认真写原创书评 被采纳为精评可以获得大量金币、积分和经验奖励哦！