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第19部分（第1页）

pletely　savage　and　the　Gamemakers　had　to　have　him　stunned　with　electric　guns　to　collect　the　bodies　of　the　players　hed　killed　before　he　ate　them。　There　are　no　rules　in　the　arena；　but　cannibalism　doesnt　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　dont　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　its　as　if　Im　frozen。　Some　sort　of　current　glues　me　to　the　ladder　while　Im　lifted　safely　inside。

I　expect　the　ladder　to　release　me　then；　but　Im　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？　Im　a　statue。　But　that　doesnt　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！〃

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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。　T

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