the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第37部分
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er。 Sort of。
Dangling up in the tree； with the sun warming me； a mouthful of mint； my bow and arrows at hand 。 。 。 this is the most relaxed Iˇve been since Iˇve entered the arena。 If only Rue would show up； and we could clear out。 As the shadows grow； so does my restlessness。 By late afternoon； Iˇve resolved to go looking for her。 I can at least visit the spot where she set the third fire and see if there are any clues to her whereabouts。
Before I go； I scatter a few mint leaves around our old campfire。 Since we gathered these some distance away； Rue will understand Iˇve been here； while theyˇll mean nothing to the Careers。
In less than an hour； Iˇm at the place where we agreed to have the third fire and I know something has gone amiss。 The wood has been neatly arranged； expertly interspersed with tinder； but it has never been lit。 Rue set up the fire but never made it back here。 Somewhere between the second column of smoke I spied before I blew up the supplies and this point； she ran into trouble。
I have to remind myself sheˇs still alive。 Or is she？ Could the cannon shot announcing her death have e in the wee hours of the morning when even my good ear was too broken to pick it up？ Will she appear in the sky tonight？ No； I refuse to believe it。 There could be a hundred other explanations。 She could have lost her way。 Run into a pack of predators or another tribute； like Thresh； and had to hide。 Whatever happened； Iˇm almost certain sheˇs stuck out there； somewhere between the second fire and the unlit one at my feet。 Something is keeping her up a tree。
I think Iˇll go hunt it down。
Itˇs a relief to be doing something after sitting around all afternoon。 I creep silently through the shadows； letting them conceal me。 But nothing seems suspicious。 Thereˇs no sign of any kind of struggle； no disruption of the needles on the ground。 Iˇve stopped for just a moment when I hear it。 I have to cock my head around to the side to be sure； but there it is again。 Rueˇs four…note tune ing out of a mockingjayˇs mouth。 The one that means sheˇs all right。
I grin and move in the direction of the bird。 Another just a short distance ahead； picks up on the handful of notes。 Rue has been singing to them； and recently。 Otherwise theyˇd have taken up some other song。 My eyes lift up into the trees； searching for a sign of her。 I swallow and sing softly back； hoping sheˇll know itˇs safe to join me。 A mockingjay repeats the melody to me。 And thatˇs when I hear the scream。
Itˇs a childˇs scream； a young girlˇs scream； thereˇs no one in the arena capable of making that sound except Rue。 And now Iˇm running； knowing this may be a trap； knowing the three Careers may be poised to attack me； but I canˇt help myself。 Thereˇs another high…pitched cry； this time my name。 ¨Katniss！ Katniss！〃
¨Rue！〃 I shout back； so she knows Iˇm near。 So； they know Iˇm near； and hopefully the girl who has attacked them with tracker jackers and gotten an eleven they still canˇt explain will be enough to pull their attention away from her。 ¨Rue！ Iˇm ing！〃
When I break into the clearing； sheˇs on the ground； hopelessly entangled in a 。 She just has time to reach her hand through the mesh and say my name before the spear enters her body。
18
The boy from District 1 dies before he can pull out the spear。 My arrow drives deeply into the center of his neck。 He falls to his knees and halves the brief remainder of his life by yanking out the arrow and drowning in his own blood。 Iˇm reloaded； shifting my aim from side to side； while I shout at Rue； ¨Are there more？ Are there more？〃
She has to say no several times before I hear it。 Rue has rolled to her side； her body curved in and around the spear。 I shove the boy away from her and pull out my knife； freeing her from the 。 One look at the wound and I know itˇs far beyond my capacity to heal； beyond anyoneˇs probably。 The spearhead is buried up to the shaft in her stomach。 I crouch before her； staring helplessly at the embedded weapon。 Thereˇs no point in forting words； in telling her sheˇll be all right。 Sheˇs no fool。 Her hand reaches out and I clutch it like a lifeline。 As if itˇs me whoˇs dying instead of Rue。
¨You blew up the food？〃 she whispers。
¨Every last bit；〃 I say。
¨You have to win；〃 she says。
¨Iˇm going to。 Going to win for both of us now；〃 I promise。 I hear a cannon and look up。 It must be for the boy from District 1。
¨Donˇt go。〃 Rue tightens her grip on my hand。
¨Course not。 Staying right here；〃 I say。 I move in closer to her； pulling her head onto my lap。 I gently brush the dark； thick hair back behind her ear。
¨Sing；〃 she says； but I barely catch the word。
Sing？ I think。 Sing what？ I do know a few songs。 Believe it or not； there was once music in my house； too。 Music I helped make。 My father pulled me in with that remarkable voice but I havenˇt sung much since he died。 Except when Prim is very sick。 Then I sing her the same songs she liked as a baby。
Sing。 My throat is tight with tears； hoarse from smoke and fatigue。 But if this is Primˇs； I mean； Rueˇs last request； I have to at least try。 The song that es to me is a simple lullaby； one we sing fretful； hungry babies to sleep with； Itˇs old； very old I think。 Made up long ago in our hills。 What my music teacher calls a mountain air。 But the words are easy and soothing； promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece of time we call today。
I give a small cough； swallow hard； and begin：
Deep in the meadow； under the willow
A bed of grass； a soft green pillow
Lay down your head； and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open； the sun will rise。
Here itˇs safe； here itˇs warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you。
Rueˇs eyes have fluttered shut。 Her chest moves but only slightly。 My throat releases the tears and they slide down my cheeks。 But I have to finish the song for her。
Deep in the meadow； hidden far away
A cloak of leaves； a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again itˇs morning； theyˇll wash away。
Here itˇs safe； here itˇs warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
The final lines are barely audible。
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you。
Everythingˇs still and quiet。 Then； almost eerily； the mockingjays take up my song。
For a moment； I sit there； watching my tears drip down on her face。 Rueˇs cannon fires。 I lean forward and press my lips against her temple。 Slowly； as if not to wake her； I lay her head back on the ground and release her hand。
Theyˇll want me to clear out now。 So they can collect the bodies。 And thereˇs nothing to stay for。 I roll the boy from District 1 onto his face and take his pack； retrieve the arrow that ended his life。 I cut Rueˇs pack from her back as well； knowing sheˇd want me to have it but leave the spear in her stomach。 Weapons in bodies will be transported to the hovercraft。 Iˇve no use for a spear； so the sooner itˇs gone from the arena the better。
I canˇt stop looking at Rue； smaller than ever； a baby animal curled up in a nest of ting。 I canˇt bring myself to leave her like this。 Past harm； but seeming utterly defenseless。 To hate the boy from District 1； who also appears so vulnerable in death； seems inadequate。 Itˇs the Capitol I hate； for doing this to all of us。
Galeˇs voice is in my head。 His ravings against the Capitol no longer pointless； no longer to be ignored。 Rueˇs death has forced me to confront my own fury against the cruelty； the injustice they inflict upon us。 But here； even more strongly than at home； I feel my impotence。 Thereˇs no way to take revenge on the Capitol。 Is there？
Then I remember Peetaˇs words on the roof。 ¨Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to 。 。 。 to show the Capital they donˇt own me。 That Iˇm more than just a piece in their Games。〃 And for the first time； I understand what he means。
I want to do something； right here； right now； to shame them； to make them accountable； to show the Capitol that whatever they do or force us to do there is a part of every tribute they canˇt own。 That Rue was more than a piece in their Games。 And so am I。
A few steps into the woods grows a bank of wildflowers。 Perhaps they are really weeds of some sort； but they have blossoms in beautiful shades of violet and yellow and white。 I gather up an armful and e back to Rueˇs side。 Slowly； one stem at a time； I decorate her body in the flowers。 Covering the ugly wound。 Wreathing her face。 Weaving her hair with bright colors。
Theyˇll have to show it。 Or； even if they choose to turn the cameras elsewhere at this moment； theyˇll have to bring them back when they collect the bodies and everyone will see her then and know I did it。 I step back and take a last look at Rue。 She could really be asleep in that meadow after all。
¨Bye； Rue；〃 I whisper。 I press the three middle fingers of my left hand against my lips and hold them out in her direction。 Then I walk away without looking back。
The birds fall silent。 Somewhere； a mockingjay gives the warning whistle that precedes
