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- Сюзанна Коллинз
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- Стр. 170/236
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And
Gale
.
I
know
him
.
He
wo
n't
be
shouting
and
cheering
.
But
he
'll
be
watching
,
every
moment
,
every
twist
and
turn
,
and
willing
me
to
come
home
.
I
wonder
if
he
's
hoping
that
Peeta
makes
it
as
well
.
Gale
's
not
my
boyfriend
,
but
would
he
be
,
if
I
opened
that
door
?
He
talked
about
us
running
away
together
.
Was
that
just
a
practical
calculation
of
our
chances
of
survival
away
from
the
district
?
Or
something
more
?
I
wonder
what
he
makes
of
all
this
kissing
.
Through
a
crack
in
the
rocks
,
I
watch
the
moon
cross
the
sky
.
At
what
I
judge
to
be
about
three
hours
before
dawn
,
I
begin
final
preparations
.
I
'm
careful
to
leave
Peeta
with
water
and
the
medical
kit
right
beside
him
.
Nothing
else
will
be
of
much
use
if
I
do
n't
return
,
and
even
these
would
only
prolong
his
life
a
short
time
.
After
some
debate
,
I
strip
him
of
his
jacket
and
zip
it
on
over
my
own
.
He
does
n't
need
it
.
Not
now
in
the
sleeping
bag
with
his
fever
,
and
during
the
day
,
if
I
'm
not
there
to
remove
it
,
he
'll
be
roasting
in
it
.
My
hands
are
already
stiff
from
cold
,
so
I
take
Rue
's
spare
pair
of
socks
,
cut
holes
for
my
fingers
and
thumbs
,
and
pull
them
on
.
It
helps
anyway
.
I
fill
her
small
pack
with
some
food
,
a
water
bottle
,
and
bandages
,
tuck
the
knife
in
my
belt
,
get
my
bow
and
arrows
.
I
'm
about
to
leave
when
I
remember
the
importance
of
sustaining
the
star-crossed
lover
routine
and
I
lean
over
and
give
Peeta
a
long
,
lingering
kiss
.
I
imagine
the
teary
sighs
emanating
from
the
Capitol
and
pretend
to
brush
away
a
tear
of
my
own
.
Then
I
squeeze
through
the
opening
in
the
rocks
out
into
the
night
.
My
breath
makes
small
white
clouds
as
it
hits
the
air
.
It
's
as
cold
as
a
November
night
at
home
.
One
where
I
've
slipped
into
the
woods
,
lantern
in
hand
,
to
join
Gale
at
some
prearranged
place
where
we
'll
sit
bundled
together
,
sipping
herb
tea
from
metal
flasks
wrapped
in
quilting
,
hoping
game
will
pass
our
way
as
the
morning
comes
on
.
Oh
,
Gale
,
I
think
.
If
only
you
had
my
back
now
.
I
move
as
fast
as
I
dare
.
The
glasses
are
quite
remarkable
,
but
I
still
sorely
miss
having
the
use
of
my
left
ear
.
I
do
n't
know
what
the
explosion
did
,
but
it
damaged
something
deep
and
irreparable
.
Never
mind
.
If
I
get
home
,
I
'll
be
so
stinking
rich
,
I
'll
be
able
to
pay
someone
to
do
my
hearing
.
The
woods
always
look
different
at
night
.
Even
with
the
glasses
,
everything
has
an
unfamiliar
slant
to
it
.
As
if
the
daytime
trees
and
flowers
and
stones
had
gone
to
bed
and
sent
slightly
more
ominous
versions
of
themselves
to
take
their
places
.
I
do
n't
try
anything
tricky
,
like
taking
a
new
route
.
I
make
my
way
back
up
the
stream
and
follow
the
same
path
back
to
Rue
's
hiding
place
near
the
lake
.
Along
the
way
,
I
see
no
sign
of
another
tribute
,
not
a
puff
of
breath
,
not
a
quiver
of
a
branch
.
Either
I
'm
the
first
to
arrive
or
the
others
positioned
themselves
last
night
.
There
's
still
more
than
an
hour
,
maybe
two
,
when
I
wriggle
into
the
underbrush
and
wait
for
the
blood
to
begin
to
flow
.
I
chew
a
few
mint
leaves
,
my
stomach
is
n't
up
for
much
more
.
Thank
goodness
,
I
have
Peeta
's
jacket
as
well
as
my
own
.
If
not
,
I
'd
be
forced
to
move
around
to
stay
warm
.
The
sky
turns
a
misty
morning
gray
and
still
there
's
no
sign
of
the
other
tributes
.
It
's
not
surprising
really
.
Everyone
has
distinguished
themselves
either
by
strength
or
deadliness
or
cunning
.
Do
they
suppose
,
I
wonder
,
that
I
have
Peeta
with
me
?
I
doubt
Foxface
and
Thresh
even
know
he
was
wounded
.
All
the
better
if
they
think
he
's
covering
me
when
I
go
in
for
the
backpack
.
But
where
is
it
?
The
arena
has
lightened
enough
for
me
to
remove
my
glasses
.
I
can
hear
the
morning
birds
singing
.
Is
n't
it
time
?
For
a
second
,
I
'm
panicked
that
I
'm
at
the
wrong
location
.
But
no
,
I
'm
certain
I
remember
Claudius
Templesmith
specifying
the
Cornucopia
.
And
there
it
is
.
And
here
I
am
.
So
where
's
my
feast
?
