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the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第31部分
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ats them 〃
¨Then hello District Twelve；〃 says Peeta。
¨Thatˇs it；〃 I say； securing the pouch to my belt。
¨Heˇll know where we are now；〃 says Peeta。 ¨If he was anywhere nearby and saw that hovercraft； heˇll know we killed her and e after us。〃
Peetaˇs right。 This could be just the opportunity Catoˇs been waiting for。 But even if we run now； thereˇs the meat to cook and our fire will be another sign of our whereabouts。 ¨Letˇs make a fire。 Right now。〃 I begin to gather branches and brush。
¨Are you ready to face him？〃 Peeta asks。
¨Iˇm ready to eat。 Better to cook our food while we have the chance。 If he knows weˇre here； he knows。 But he also knows thereˇs two of us and probably assumes we were hunting Foxface。 That means youˇre recovered。 And the fire means weˇre not hiding； weˇre inviting him here。 Would you show up？〃 I ask。
¨Maybe not；〃 he says。
Peetaˇs a whiz with fires； coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood。 In no time； I have the rabbits and squirrel roasting； the roots； wrapped in leaves； baking in the coals。 We take turns gathering greens and keeping a careful watch for Cato； but as I anticipated； he doesnˇt make an appearance。
When the foodˇs cooked； I pack most of it up； leaving us each a rabbitˇs leg to eat as we walk。
I want to move higher into the woods； climb a good tree； and make camp for the night； but Peeta resists。 ¨I canˇt climb like you； Katniss； especially with my leg； and I donˇt think I could ever fall asleep fifty feet above the ground。〃
¨Itˇs not safe to stay in the open； Peeta；〃 I say。
¨Canˇt we go back to the cave？〃 he asks。 ¨Itˇs near water and easy to defend。〃
I sigh。 Several more hours of walking or should I say crashing through the woods to reach an area weˇll just have to leave in the morning to hunt。 But Peeta doesnˇt ask for much。 Heˇs followed my instructions all day and Iˇm sure if things were reversed； he wouldnˇt make me spend the night in a tree。 It dawns on me that I havenˇt been very nice to Peeta today。 Nagging him about how loud he was； screaming at him over disappearing。 The playful romance we had sustained in the cave has disappeared out in the open； under the hot sun； with the threat of Cato looming over us。 Haymitch has probably just about had it with me。 And as for the audience 。 。 。
I reach up and give him a kiss。 ¨Sure。 Letˇs go back to the cave。〃
He looks pleased and relieved。 ¨Well； that was easy。〃
I work my arrow out of the oak； careful not to damage the shaft。 These arrows are food； safety； and life itself now。
We toss a bunch more wood on the fire。 It should be sending off smoke for a few more hours； although I doubt Cato assumes anything at this point。 When we reach the stream； I see the water has dropped considerably and moves at its old leisurely pace； so I suggest we walk back in it。 Peetaˇs happy to oblige and since heˇs a lot quieter in water than on land； itˇs a doubly good idea。 Itˇs a long walk back to the cave though； even going downward； even with the rabbit to give us a boost。 Weˇre both exhausted by our hike today and still way too underfed。 I keep my bow loaded； both for Cato and any fish I might see； but the stream seems strangely empty of creatures。
By the time we reach our destination； our feet are dragging and the sun sits low on the horizon。 We fill up our water bottles and climb the little slope to our den。 Itˇs not much； but out here in the wilderness； itˇs the closest thing we have to a home。 It will be warmer than a tree； too； because it provides some shelter from the wind that has begun to blow steadily in from the west。 I set a good dinner out； but halfway through Peeta begins to nod off。 After days of inactivity； the hunt has
taken its toll。 I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for when he wakes。 He drops off immediately。 I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead； not for the audience； but for me。 Because Iˇm so grateful that heˇs still here； not dead by the stream as Iˇd thought。 So glad that I donˇt have to face Cato alone。
Brutal； bloody Cato who can snap a neck with a twist of his arm； who had the power to overe Thresh； who has had it out for me since the beginning。 He probably has had a special hatred for me ever since I outscored him in training。 A boy like Peeta would simply shrug that off。 But I have a feeling it drove Cato to distraction。 Which is not that hard。 I think of his ridiculous reaction to finding the supplies blown up。 The others were upset； of course； but he was pletely unhinged。 I
wonder now if Cato might not be entirely sane。
The sky lights up with the seal； and I watch Foxface shine in the sky and then disappear from the world forever。 He hasnˇt said it； but I donˇt think Peeta felt good about killing her； even if it was essential。 I canˇt pretend Iˇll miss her； but I have to admire her。 My guess is if they had given us some sort of test； she would have been the smartest of all the tributes。 If； in fact； we had been setting a trap for her； I bet sheˇd have sensed it and avoided the berries。 It was Peetaˇs own ignorance that brought her down。 Iˇve spent so much time making sure I donˇt underestimate my opponents that Iˇve forgotten itˇs just as dangerous to overestimate them as well。
That brings me back to Cato。 But while I think I had a sense of Foxface； who she was and how she operated； heˇs a little more slippery。 Powerful； well trained； but smart？ I donˇt know。 Not like she was。 And utterly lacking in the control Foxface demonstrated。 I believe Cato could easily lose his judgment in a fit of temper。 Not that I can feel superior on that point。 I think of the moment I sent the arrow flying into the apple in the pigˇs mouth when I was so enraged。 Maybe I do understand Cato better than I think。
Despite the fatigue in my body； my mindˇs alert； so I let Peeta sleep long past our usual switch。 In fact； a soft gray day has begun when I shake his shoulder。 He looks out； almost in alarm。 ¨I slept the whole night。 Thatˇs not fair； Katniss； you should have woken me。〃
I stretch and burrow down into the bag。 ¨Iˇll sleep now。 Wake me if anything interesting happens。〃
Apparently nothing does； because when I open my eyes； bright hot afternoon light gleams through the rocks。 ¨Any sign of our friend？〃 I ask。
Peeta shakes his head。 ¨No； heˇs keeping a disturbingly low profile。〃
¨How long do you think weˇll have before the Gamemakers drive us together？〃 I ask。
¨Well； Foxface died almost a day ago； so thereˇs been plenty of time for the audience to place bets and get bored。 I guess it could happen at any moment；〃 says Peeta。
¨Yeah； I have a feeling todayˇs the day；〃 I say。 I sit up and look out at the peaceful terrain。 ¨I wonder how theyˇll do it。〃
Peeta remains silent。 Thereˇs not really any good answer。
¨Well； until they do； no sense in wasting a hunting day。 But we should probably eat as much as we can hold just in case we run into trouble；〃 I say。
Peeta packs up our gear while I lay out a big meal。 The rest of the rabbits； roots； greens； the rolls spread with the last bit of cheese。 The only thing I leave in reserve is the squirrel and the apple。
By the time weˇre done； all thatˇs left is a pile of rabbit bones。 My hands are greasy； which only adds to my growing feeling of grubbiness。 Maybe we donˇt bathe daily in the Seam； but we keep cleaner than I have of late。 Except for my feet； which have walked in the stream； Iˇm covered in a layer of grime。
Leaving the cave has a sense of finality about it。 I donˇt think there will be another night in the arena somehow。 One way or the other； dead or alive； I have the feeling Iˇll escape it today。 I give the rocks a pat good…bye and we head down to the stream to wash up。 I can feel my skin； itching for the cool water。 I may do my hair and braid it back wet。 Iˇm wondering if we might even be able to give our clothes a quick scrub when we reach the stream。 Or what used to be the stream。 Now thereˇs only a bone…dry bed。 I put my hand down to feel it。
¨Not even a little damp。 They must have drained it while we slept；〃 I say。 A fear of the cracked tongue； aching body and fuzzy mind brought on by my previous dehydration creeps into my consciousness。 Our bottles and skin are fairly full； but with two drinking and this hot sun it wonˇt take long to deplete them。
¨The lake；〃 says Peeta。 ¨Thatˇs where they want us to go。〃
¨Maybe the ponds still have some；〃 I say hopefully。
¨We can check；〃 he says； but heˇs just humoring me。 Iˇm humoring myself because I know what Iˇll find when we return to the pond where I soaked my leg。 A dusty； gaping mouth of a hole。 But we make the trip anyway just to confirm what we already know。
¨Youˇre right。 Theyˇre driving us to the lake；〃 I say。 Where thereˇs no cover。 Where theyˇre guaranteed a bloody fight to the death with nothing to block their view。 ¨Do you want to go straightaway or wait until the waterˇs tapped out？〃
¨Letˇs go now； while weˇve had food and rest。 Letˇs just go end this thing；〃 he says。
I nod。 Itˇs funny。 I feel almost as if itˇs the first day of the Games again。 That Iˇm in the same position。 Twenty…one tributes are dead； but I still have yet to kill Cato。 And really； wasnˇt he always the one to kill？ Now it seems the other tributes were just minor obstacles； distractions； keeping us from the real battle of the Games。 Cato and me。
But no； thereˇs the boy waiting beside me。 I feel his arms wrap around me。
¨Two against one。 Should be a piece of cake；〃 he says。
¨Next time we eat； it will be in the Capitol；〃 I answer。
¨You bet it will；〃 he says。
We stand there a while； locked in an embrace； feeling each other； the sunlight； the rustle of the leaves at our feet。 Then without a word； we break apart and head for the lake。
I donˇt care now that Peetaˇs footfalls send rodents scurrying； make birds take wing。 We have to fight Cato and Iˇd just as soon do it here as on the plain。 But I doubt Iˇll have that choice。 If the Gamemakers want us in the open； then in the open we will be。
We stop to rest for a few moments under the tree where the Careers trapped me。 The husk of the tracker jacker nest； beaten to a pulp by the heavy rains and dried in the burning sun； confirms the location。 I touch it with the tip of my boot； and it dissolves into dust that is quickly carried off by the breeze。 I canˇt help looking up in the tree where Rue secretly perched； waiting to save my life。 Tracker jackers。 Glimmerˇs bloated body。 The terrifying hallucinations 。 。 。
¨Letˇs move on；〃 I say； wanting to escape the darkness that surrounds this place。 Peeta doesnˇt object。
Given our late start to the day； when we reach the plain itˇs already early evening。 Thereˇs no sign of Cato。 No sign of anything except the gold Cornucopia glowing in the slanting sun rays。 Just in case Cato decided to pull a Foxface on us； we circle the Cornucopia to make sure itˇs empty。 Then obediently； as if following instructions； we cross to the lake and fill our water containers。
I frown at the shrinking sun。 ¨We donˇt want to fight him after dark。 Thereˇs only the one pair of glasses。〃
Peeta carefully squeezes drops of iodine into the water。 ¨Maybe thatˇs what heˇs waiting for。 What do you want to do？ Go back to the cave？〃
¨Either that or find a tree。 But letˇs give him another half an hour or so。 Then weˇll take cover；〃 I answer。
We sit by the lake； in full sight。 Thereˇs no point in hiding now。 In the trees at the edge of the plain； I can see the mockingjays flitting about。 Bouncing melodies back and forth between them like brightly colored balls。 I open my mouth and sing out Rueˇs four…note run。 I can feel them pause curiously at the sound of my voice； listening for more。 I repeat the notes in the silence。 First one mockingjay trills the tune back； then another。 Then the whole world es alive with the sound。
¨Just like your father；〃 says Peeta。
My fingers find the pin on my shirt。 ¨Thatˇs Rueˇs song；〃 I say。 ¨I think they remember it。〃
The music swells and I recognize the brilliance of it。 As the notes overlap； they pliment one another； forming a lovely； unearthly harmony。 It was this sound then； thanks to Rue； that sent the orchard workers of District 11 home each night。 Does someone start it at quitting time； I wonder； now that she is dead？
For a while； I just close my eyes and listen； mesmerized by the beauty of the song。 Then something begins to disrupt the music。 Runs cut off in jagged； imperfect lines。 Dissonant notes intersperse with the melody。 The mockingjaysˇ voices rise up in a shrieking cry of alarm。
Weˇre on our feet； Peeta wielding his knife； me poised to shoot； when Cato smashes through the trees and bears down on us。 He has no spear。 In fact； his hands are empty； yet he runs straight for us。 My first arrow hits his chest and inexplicably falls aside。
¨Heˇs got some kind of body armor！〃 I shout to Peeta。
Just in time； too； because Cato is upon us。 I brace myself； but he rockets right between us with no attempt to check his speed。 I can tell from his panting； the sweat pouring off his purplish face； that heˇs been running hard a long time。 Not toward us。 From something。 But what？
My eyes scan the woods just in time to see the first creature leap onto the plain。 As Iˇm turning away； I see another half dozen join it。 Then I am stumbling blindly after Cato with no thought of anything but to save myself。
25
Muttations。 No question about it。 Iˇve never seen these mutts； but theyˇre no natural…born animals。 They resemble huge wolves； but what wolf lands and then balances easily on its hind legs？ What wolf waves the rest of the pack forward with its front paw as though it had a wrist？ These things I can see at a distance。 Up close； Iˇm sure their more menacing attributes will be revealed。
Cato has made a beeline for the Cornucopia； and 。 If he thinks itˇs the safest place； who am I to argue？ Besides； even if I could make it to the trees； it would be impossible for Peeta to outrun them on that leg Peeta！ My hands have just landed on the metal at the pointed tail of the Cornucopia when I remember Iˇm part of a team。 Heˇs about fifteen yards behind me； hobbling as fast as he can； but the mutts are closing in on him fast。 I send an arrow into the pack and one goes down； but there are plenty to take its place。
Peetaˇs waving me up the horn； ¨Go； Katniss！ Go！〃
Heˇs right。 I canˇt protect either of us on the ground。 I start climbing； scaling the Cornucopia on my hands and feet。 The pure gold surface has been designed to resemble the woven horn that we fill at harvest； so there are little ridges and seams to get a decent hold on。 But after a day in the arena sun； the metal feels hot enough to blister my hands。
Cato lies on his side at the very top of the horn； twenty feet above the ground； gasping to catch his breath as he gags over the edge。 Nowˇs my chance to finish him off。 I stop midway up the horn and load another arrow； but just as Iˇm about to let it fly； I hear Peeta cry out。 I twist around and see heˇs just reached the tail； and the mutts are right on his heels。
¨Climb！〃 I yell。 Peeta starts up hampered by not only the leg but the knife in his hand。 I shoot my arrow down the throat of the first mutt tha
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