第55章
has peeta revealed his true
colors? how does this affect the betting odds? will we lose
sponsors? do we even have sponsors? yes, i feel certain we
do, or at least did.
certainly peeta has thrown a wrench into our star-crossed
lover dynamic. or has he? maybe, since he hasn’t spoken much
about me, we can still get some mileage out of it. maybe
people will think it’s something we plotted together if i seem
like it amuses me now.
the sun rises in the sky and even through the canopy it
seems overly bright. i coat my lips in some grease from the
rabbit and try to keep from panting, but it’s no use. it’s only
been a day and i’m dehydrating fast. i try and think of every-
thing i know about finding water. it runs downhill, so, in fact,
continuing down into this valley isn’t a bad thing. if i could
just locate a game trail or spot a particularly green patch of
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vegetation, these might help me along, but nothing seems to
change. there’s just the slight gradual slope, the birds, the
sameness to the trees.
as the day wears on, i know i’m headed for trouble. what
little urine i’ve been able to pass is a dark brown, my head is
aching, and there’s a dry patch on my tongue that refuses to
moisten. the sun hurts my eyes so i dig out my sunglasses, but
when i put them on they do something funny to my vision, so i
just stuff them back in my pack.
it’s late afternoon when i think i’ve found help. i spot a
cluster of berry bushes and hurry to strip the fruit, to suck the
sweet juices from the skins. but just as i’m holding them to my
lips, i get a hard look at them. what i thought were blueber-
ries have a slightly different shape, and when i break one open
the insides are bloodred. i don’t recognize these berries, per-
haps they are edible, but i’m guessing this is some evil trick on
the part of the gamemakers. even the plant instructor in the
training center made a point of telling us to avoid berries un-
less you were 100 percent sure they weren’t toxic. something
i already knew, but i’m so thirsty it takes her reminder to give
me the strength to fling them away.
fatigue is beginning to settle on me, but it’s not the usual
tiredness that follows a long hike. i have to stop and rest fre-
quently, although i know the only cure for what ails me re-
quires continued searching. i try a new tactic — climbing a
tree as high as i dare in my shaky state — to look for any signs
of water. but as far as i can see in any direction, there’s the
same unrelenting stretch of forest.
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determined to go on until nightfall, i walk until i’m stum-
bling over my own feet.
exhausted, i haul myself up into a tree and belt myself in.
i’ve no appetite, but i suck on a rabbit bone just to give my
mouth something to do. night falls, the anthem plays, and high
in the sky i see the picture of the girl, who was apparently
from district 8. the one peeta went back to finish off.
my fear of the career pack is minor compared to my burn-
ing thirst. besides, they were heading away from me and by
now they, too, will have to rest. with the scarcity of water,
they may even have had to return to the lake for refills.
maybe, that is the only course for me as well.
morning brings distress. my heads throbs with every beat
of my heart. simple movements send stabs of pain through my
joints. i fall, rather than jump from the tree. it takes several
minutes for me to assemble my gear. somewhere inside me, i
know this is wrong. i should be acting with more caution,
moving with more urgency. but my mind seems foggy and
forming a plan is hard. i lean back against the trunk of my
tree, one finger gingerly stroking the sandpaper surface of my
tongue, as i assess my options. how can i get water?