-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Сюзанна Коллинз
-
- Голодные игры
-
- Стр. 107/236
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
world
has
transformed
to
flame
and
smoke
.
Burning
branches
crack
from
trees
and
fall
in
showers
of
sparks
at
my
feet
.
All
I
can
do
is
follow
the
others
,
the
rabbits
and
deer
and
I
even
spot
a
wild
dog
pack
shooting
through
the
woods
.
I
trust
their
sense
of
direction
because
their
instincts
are
sharper
than
mine
.
But
they
are
much
faster
,
flying
through
the
underbrush
so
gracefully
as
my
boots
catch
on
roots
and
fallen
tree
limbs
,
that
there
's
no
way
I
can
keep
apace
with
them
.
The
heat
is
horrible
,
but
worse
than
the
heat
is
the
smoke
,
which
threatens
to
suffocate
me
at
any
moment
.
I
pull
the
top
of
my
shirt
up
over
my
nose
,
grateful
to
find
it
soaked
in
sweat
,
and
it
offers
a
thin
veil
of
protection
.
And
I
run
,
choking
,
my
bag
banging
against
my
back
,
my
face
cut
with
branches
that
materialize
from
the
gray
haze
without
warning
,
because
I
know
I
am
supposed
to
run
.
This
was
no
tribute
's
campfire
gone
out
of
control
,
no
accidental
occurrence
.
The
flames
that
bear
down
on
me
have
an
unnatural
height
,
a
uniformity
that
marks
them
as
human-made
,
machine-made
,
Gamemaker-made
.
Things
have
been
too
quiet
today
.
No
deaths
,
perhaps
no
fights
at
all
.
The
audience
in
the
Capitol
will
be
getting
bored
,
claiming
that
these
Games
are
verging
on
dullness
.
This
is
the
one
thing
the
Games
must
not
do
.
It
's
not
hard
to
follow
the
Gamemakers
'
motivation
.
There
is
the
Career
pack
and
then
there
are
the
rest
of
us
,
probably
spread
far
and
thin
across
the
arena
.
This
fire
is
designed
to
flush
us
out
,
to
drive
us
together
.
It
may
not
be
the
most
original
device
I
've
seen
,
but
it
's
very
,
very
effective
.
I
hurdle
over
a
burning
log
.
Not
high
enough
.
The
tail
end
of
my
jacket
catches
on
fire
and
I
have
to
stop
to
rip
it
from
my
body
and
stamp
out
the
flames
.
But
I
do
n't
dare
leave
the
jacket
,
scorched
and
smoldering
as
it
is
,
I
take
the
risk
of
shoving
it
in
my
sleeping
bag
,
hoping
the
lack
of
air
will
quell
what
I
have
n't
extinguished
.
This
is
all
I
have
,
what
I
carry
on
my
back
,
and
it
's
little
enough
to
survive
with
.
In
a
matter
of
minutes
,
my
throat
and
nose
are
burning
.
The
coughing
begins
soon
after
and
my
lungs
begin
to
feel
as
if
they
are
actually
being
cooked
.
Discomfort
turns
to
distress
until
each
breath
sends
a
searing
pain
through
my
chest
.
I
manage
to
take
cover
under
a
stone
outcropping
just
as
the
vomiting
begins
,
and
I
lose
my
meager
supper
and
whatever
water
has
remained
in
my
stomach
.
Crouching
on
my
hands
and
knees
,
I
retch
until
there
's
nothing
left
to
come
up
.
I
know
I
need
to
keep
moving
,
but
I
'm
trembling
and
light-headed
now
,
gasping
for
air
.
I
allow
myself
about
a
spoonful
of
water
to
rinse
my
mouth
and
spit
then
take
a
few
swallows
from
my
bottle
.
You
get
one
minute
,
I
tell
myself
.
One
minute
to
rest
.
I
take
the
time
to
reorder
my
supplies
,
wad
up
the
sleeping
bag
,
and
messily
stuff
everything
into
the
backpack
.
My
minute
's
up
.
I
know
it
's
time
to
move
on
,
but
the
smoke
has
clouded
my
thoughts
.
The
swift-footed
animals
that
were
my
compass
have
left
me
behind
.
I
know
I
have
n't
been
in
this
part
of
the
woods
before
,
there
were
no
sizable
rocks
like
the
one
I
'm
sheltering
against
on
my
earlier
travels
.
Where
are
the
Gamemakers
driving
me
?
Back
to
the
lake
?
To
a
whole
new
terrain
filled
with
new
dangers
?
I
had
just
found
a
few
hours
of
peace
at
the
pond
when
this
attack
began
.
Would
there
be
any
way
I
could
travel
parallel
to
the
fire
and
work
my
way
back
there
,
to
a
source
of
water
at
least
?
The
wall
of
fire
must
have
an
end
and
it
wo
n't
burn
indefinitely
.
Not
because
the
Gamemakers
could
n't
keep
it
fueled
but
because
,
again
,
that
would
invite
accusations
of
boredom
from
the
audience
.
If
I
could
get
back
behind
the
fire
line
,
I
could
avoid
meeting
up
with
the
Careers
.
I
've
just
decided
to
try
and
loop
back
around
,
although
it
will
require
miles
of
travel
away
from
the
inferno
and
then
a
very
circuitous
route
back
,
when
the
first
fireball
blasts
into
the
rock
about
two
feet
from
my
head
.
I
spring
out
from
under
my
ledge
,
energized
by
renewed
fear
.
The
game
has
taken
a
twist
.
The
fire
was
just
to
get
us
moving
,
now
the
audience
will
get
to
see
some
real
fun
.
When
I
hear
the
next
hiss
,
I
flatten
on
the
ground
,
not
taking
time
to
look
.
The
fireball
hits
a
tree
off
to
my
left
,
engulfing
it
in
flames
.
To
remain
still
is
death
.
