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the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第21部分
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s sparkling leads me to doubt everything that happened。
I must have been moving very slowly yesterday because I reach the shallow stretch where I took my bath in just a few hours。 I stop to replenish my water and add a layer of mud to my backpack。 It seems bent on reverting to orange no matter how many times I cover it。
My proximity to the Careersˇ camp sharpens my senses； and the closer I get to them； the more guarded I am； pausing frequently to listen for unnatural sounds； an arrow already fitted into the string of my bow。 I donˇt see any other tributes； but I do notice some of the things Rue has mentioned。 Patches of the sweet berries。 A bush with the leaves that healed my stings。 Clusters of tracker jacker nests in the vicinity of the tree I was trapped in。 And here and there； the black…and…white flash of a mockingjay wing in the branches high over my head。
When I reach the tree with the abandoned nest at the foot； I pause a moment； to gather my courage。 Rue has given specific instructions on how to reach the best spying place near the lake from this point。 Remember； I tell myself。 Youˇre the hunter now； not them。 I get a firmer grasp on my bow and go on。 I make it to the copse Rue has told me about and again have to admire her cleverness。 Itˇs right at the edge of the wood； but the bushy foliage is so thick down low I can easily observe the Career camp without being spotted。 Between us lies the flat expanse where the Games began。
There are four tributes。 The boy from District 1； Cato and the girl from District 2； and a scrawny； ashen…skinned boy who must be from District 3。 He made almost no impression on me at all during our time in the Capitol。 I can remember almost nothing about him； not his costume； not his training score； not his interview。 Even now； as he sits there fiddling with some kind of plastic box； heˇs easily ignored in the presence of his large and domineering panions。 But he must be of some value or they wouldnˇt have bothered to let him live。 Still； seeing him only adds to my sense of unease over why the Careers would possibly leave him as a guard； why they have allowed him to live at all。
All four tributes seem to still be recovering from the tracker jacker attack。 Even from here； I can see the large swollen lumps on their bodies。 They must not have had the sense to remove the stingers； or if they did； not known about the leaves that healed them。 Apparently； whatever medicines they found in the Cornucopia have been ineffective。
The Cornucopia sits in its original position； but its insides have been picked clean。 Most of the supplies； held in crates； burlap sacks； and plastic bins； are piled neatly in a pyramid in what seems a questionable distance from the camp。 Others are sprinkled around the perimeter of the pyramid； almost mimicking the layout of supplies around the Cornucopia at the onset of the Games。 A canopy of ting that； aside from discouraging birds； seems to be useless shelters the pyramid itself。
The whole setup is pletely perplexing。 The distance； the ting； and the presence of the boy from District 3。 One thingˇs for sure； destroying those supplies is not going to be as simple as it looks。 Some other factor is at play here； and Iˇd better stay put until I figure out what it is。 My guess is the pyramid is booby…trapped in some manner。 I think of concealed pits； descending s； a thread that when broken sends a poisonous dart into your heart。 Really； the possibilities are endless。
While I am mulling over my options； I hear Cato shout out。 Heˇs pointing up to the woods； far beyond me； and without turning I know that Rue must have set the first campfire。 Weˇd made sure to gather enough green wood to make the smoke noticeable。 The Careers begin to arm themselves at once。
An argument breaks out。 Itˇs loud enough for me to hear that it concerns whether or not the boy from District 3 should stay or acpany them。
¨Heˇs ing。 We need him in the woods； and his jobˇs done here anyway。 No one can touch those supplies；〃 says Cato。
¨What about Lover Boy？〃 says the boy from District 1。
¨I keep telling you； forget about him。 I know where I cut him。 Itˇs a miracle he hasnˇt bled to death yet。 At any rate； heˇs in no shape to raid us；〃 says Cato。
So Peeta is out there in the woods； wounded badly。 But I am still in the dark on what motivated him to betray the Careers。
¨e on；〃 says Cato。 He thrusts a spear into the hands of the boy from District 3； and they head off in the direction of the fire。 The last thing I hear as they enter the woods is Cato saying； ¨When we find her； I kill her in my own way； and no one interferes。〃
Somehow I donˇt think heˇs talking about Rue。 She didnˇt drop a nest of tracker jackers on him。
I stay put for a half an hour or so； trying to figure out what to do about the supplies。 The one advantage I have with the bow and arrow is distance。 I could send a flaming arrow into the pyramid easily enough Iˇm a good enough shot to get it through those openings in the but thereˇs no guarantee it would catch。 More likely itˇd just burn itself out and then what？ Iˇd have achieved nothing and given them far too much information about myself。 That I was here； that I have an acplice； that I can use the bow and arrow with accuracy。
Thereˇs no alternative。 Iˇm going to have to get in closer and see if I canˇt discover what exactly protects the supplies。 In fact； Iˇm just about to reveal myself when a movement catches my eye。 Several hundred yards to my right； I see someone emerge from the woods。 For a second； I think itˇs Rue； but then I recognize Foxface sheˇs the one we couldnˇt remember this morning creeping out onto the plain。 When she decides itˇs safe； she runs for the pyramid； all steps。 Just before she reaches the circle of supplies that have been littered around the pyramid； she stops； searches the ground； and carefully places her feet on a spot。 Then she begins to approach the pyramid with strange little hops； sometimes landing on one foot； teetering slightly； sometimes risking a few steps。 At one point； she launches up in the air； over a small barrel and lands poised on her tiptoes。 But she overshot slightly； and her momentum throws her forward。 I hear her give a sharp squeal as her hands hit the ground； but nothing happens。 In a moment； sheˇs regained her feet and continues until she has reached the bulk of the supplies。
So； Iˇm right about the booby trap； but itˇs clearly more plex than I had imagined。 I was right about the girl； too。 How wily is she to have discovered this path into the food and to be able to replicate it so neatly？ She fills her pack； taking a few items from a variety of containers； crackers from a crate； a handful of apples from a burlap sack that hangs suspended from a rope off the side of a bin。 But only a handful from each； not enough to tip off that the food is missing。 Not enough to cause suspicion。 And then sheˇs doing her odd little dance back out of the circle and scampering into the woods again； safe and sound。
I realize Iˇm grinding my teeth in frustration。 Foxface has confirmed what Iˇd already guessed。 But what sort of trap have they laid that requires such dexterity？ Has so many trigger points？ Why did she squeal so as her hands made contact with the earth？ Youˇd have thought 。 。 。 and slowly it begins to dawn on me 。 。 。 youˇd have thought the very ground was going to explode。
¨Itˇs mined；〃 I whisper。 That explains everything。 The Careersˇ willingness to leave their supplies； Foxfaceˇs reaction； the involvement of the boy from District 3； where they have the factories； where they make televisions and automobiles and explosives。 But where did he get them？ In the supplies？ Thatˇs not the sort of weapon the Gamemakers usually provide； given that they like to see the tributes draw blood personally。 I slip out of the bushes and cross to one of the round metal plates that lifted the tributes into the arena。 The ground around it has been dug up and patted back down。 The land mines were disabled after the sixty seconds we stood on the plates； but the boy from District 3 must have managed to reactivate them。 Iˇve never seen anyone in the Games do that。 I bet it came as a shock even to the Gamemakers。
Well； hurray for the boy from District 3 for putting one over on them； but what am I supposed to do now？ Obviously； I canˇt go strolling into that mess without blowing myself sky…high。 As for sending in a burning arrow； thatˇs more laughable than ever。 The mines are set off by pressure。 It doesnˇt have to be a lot； either。 One year； a girl dropped her token； a small wooden ball； while she was at her plate； and they literally had to scrape bits of her off the ground。
My armˇs pretty good； I might be able to chuck some rocks in there and set off what？ Maybe one mine？ That could start a chain reaction。 Or could it？ Would the boy from District 3 have placed the mines in such a way that a single mine would not disturb the others？ Thereby protecting the supplies but ensuring the death of the invader。 Even if I only blew up one mine； Iˇd draw the Careers back down on me for sure。 And anyway； what am I thinking？ Thereˇs that ； clearly strung to deflect any such attack。 Besides； what Iˇd really need is to throw about thirty rocks in there at once； setting off a big chain reaction； demolishing the whole lot。
I glance back up at the woods。 The smoke from Rueˇs second fire is wafting toward the sky。 By now； the Careers have probably begun to suspect some sort of trick。 Time is running out。
There is a solution to this； I know there is； if I can only focus hard enough。 I stare at the pyramid； the bins； the crates； too heavy to topple over with an arrow。 Maybe one contains cooking oil； and the burning arrow idea is reviving when I realize I could end up losing all twelve of my arrows and not get a direct hit on an oil bin； since Iˇd just be guessing。 Iˇm genuinely thinking of trying to re…create Foxfaceˇs trip up to the pyramid in hopes of finding a new means of destruction when my eyes light on the burlap bag of apples。 I could sever the rope in one shot； didnˇt I do as much in the Training Center？ Itˇs a big bag； but it still might only be good for one explosion。 If only I could free the apples themselves 。 。 。
I know what to do。 I move into range and give myself three arrows to get the job done。 I place my feet carefully； block out the rest of the world as I take meticulous aim； The first arrow tears through the side of the bag near the top； leaving a split in the burlap。 The second widens it to a gaping hole。 I can see the first apple teetering when I let the third arrow go； catching the torn flap of burlap and ripping it from the bag。
For a moment； everything seems frozen in time。 Then the apples spill to the ground and Iˇm blown backward into the air。
17
The impact with the hard…packed earth of the plain knocks the wind out of me。 My backpack does little to soften the blow。 Fortunately my quiver has caught in the crook of my elbow； sparing both itself and my shoulder； and my bow is locked in my grasp。 The ground still shakes with explosions。 I canˇt hear them。 I canˇt hear anything at the moment。 But the apples must have set off enough mines； causing debris to activate the others。 I manage to shield my face with my arms as shattered bits of matter； some of it burning； rain down around me。 An acrid smoke fills the air； which is not the best remedy for someone trying to regain the ability to breathe。
After about a minute； the ground stops vibrating。 I roll on my side and allow myself a moment of satisfaction the sight of the smoldering wreckage that was recently the pyramid。 The Careers arenˇt likely to salvage anything out of that。
Iˇd better get out of here； I think。 Theyˇll be making a beeline for the place。 But once Iˇm on my feet； I realize escape may not be so simple。 Iˇm dizzy。 Not the slightly wobbly kind； but the kind that sends the trees swooping around you and causes the earth to move in waves under your feet。
I take a few steps and somehow wind up on my hands and knees。 I wait a few minutes to let it pass； but it doesnˇt。
Panic begins to set in。 I canˇt stay here。 Flight is essential。 But I can neither walk nor hear。 I place a hand to my left ear； the one that was turned toward the blast； and it es away bloody。 Have I gone deaf from the explosion？ The idea frightens me。 I rely as much on my ears as my eyes as a hunter； maybe more at times。 But I canˇt let my fear show。 Absolutely； positively； I am live on every screen in Panem。
No blood trails； I tell myself； and manage to pull my hood up over my head； tie the cord under my chin with uncooperative fingers。 That should help soak up the blood。 I canˇt walk； but can I crawl？ I move forward tentatively。 Yes； if I go very slowly； I can crawl。 Most of the woods will offer insufficient cover。 My only hope is to make it back to Rueˇs copse and conceal myself in greenery。 I canˇt get caught out here on my hands and knees in the open。 Not only will I face death； itˇs sure to be a long and painful one at Catoˇs hand。 The thought of Prim having to watch that keeps me doggedly inching my way toward the hideout。
Another blast knocks me flat on my face。 A stray mine； set off by some collapsing crate。 This happens twice more。 Iˇm reminded of those last few kernels that burst when Prim and I pop corn over the fire at home。
To say I make it in the nick of time is an understatement。 I have literally just dragged myself into the tangle of hushes at the base of the trees when thereˇs Cato； barreling onto the plain； soon followed by his panions。 His rage is so extreme it might be ical so people really do tear out their hair and beat the ground with their fists if I didnˇt know that it was aimed at me； at what I have done to him。 Add to that my proximity； my inability to run or defend myself； and in fact； the whole thing has me terrified。 Iˇm glad my hiding place makes it impossible for the cameras to get a close shot of me because Iˇm biting my nails like thereˇs no tomorrow。 Gnawing off the last bits of nail polish； trying to keep my teeth from chattering。
The boy from District 3 throws stones into the ruins and must have declared all the mines activated because the Careers are approaching the wreckage。
Cato has finished the first phase of his tantrum and takes out his anger on the smoking remains by kicking open various containers。 The other tributes are poking around in the mess； looking for anything to salvage； but thereˇs nothing。 The boy from District 3 has done his job too well。 This idea must occur to Cato； too； because he turns on the boy and appears to be shouting at him。 The boy from District 3 only has time to turn and run before Cato catches him in a headlock from behind。 I can see the muscles ripple in Catoˇs arms as he sharply jerks the boyˇs head to the side。
Itˇs that quick。 The death of the boy from District 3。
The other two Careers seem to be trying to calm Cato down。 I can tell he wants to return to the woods； but they keep pointing at the sky； which puzzles me until I realize； Of course。 They think whoever set off the explosions is dead。
They donˇt know about the arrows and the apples。 They assume the booby trap was faulty； but that the tribute who blew up the supplies was killed doing it。 If there was
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