第49章

  i ask.
  “off the green outfit you wore on the train,” he says. i re-
  member now taking it off my mother’s dress, pinning it to the
  shirt. “it’s 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 advan-
  tage. 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,
  you’re all set. move around. make sure everything feels com-
  fortable.”
  i walk, run in a circle, swing my arms about. “yes, it’s fine.
  fits perfectly.”
  “then there’s nothing to do but wait for the call,” says cin-
  na. “unless you think you could eat any more?”
  144
  i turn down food but accept a glass of water that i take tiny
  sips of as we wait on a couch. i don’t want to chew on my nails
  or lips, so i find myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek. it
  still hasn’t 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
  come. 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 be-
  gins 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 un-
  til a pleasant female voice announces it’s time to prepare for
  launch.
  still clenching one of cinna’s 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 re-
  member this. i’m 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 be-
  gins to rise. for maybe fifteen seconds, i’m in darkness and
  145
  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 i’m conscious only of a strong wind with
  the hopeful smell of pine trees.
  then i hear the legendary announcer, claudius temples-
  mith, as his voice booms all around me.
  “ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth hunger
  games begin!”
  146
  sixty seconds. that’s how long we’re 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, gar-
  ments, 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 three-
  foot 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 tri-
  butes. which i have been instructed not to do.
  we’re on a flat, open stretch of ground. a plain of hard-
  packed 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. imme-
  diately.
  147
  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 it’s tempting, so tempting, when i see the bounty wait-
  ing there before me. and i know that if i don’t 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. that’s mine, i think. it’s meant for me.
  i’m 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?

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