《the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)》饥饿游戏(英文版)-第77章

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