第20部分(第3/8頁)

e　cannons　until　the　initial　fightingˇs　over　because　itˇs　too　hard　to　keep　track　of　the　fatalities。　I　allow　myself　to　pause；　panting；　as　I　count　the　shots。　One　。　。　。　two　。　。　。　three　。　。　。　on　and　on　until　they　reach　eleven。　Eleven　dead　in　all。　Thirteen　left　to　play。　My　fingernails　scrape　at　the　dried　blood　the　boy　from　District　9　coughed　into　my　face。　Heˇs　gone；　certainly。　I　wonder　about　Peeta。　Has　he　lasted　through　the　day？　Iˇll　know　in　a　few　hours。　When　they　project　the　deadˇs　images　into　the　sky　for　the　rest　of　us　to　see。

All　of　a　sudden；　Iˇm　overwhelmed　by　the　thought　that　Peeta　may　be　already　lost；　bled　white；　collected；　and　in　the　process　of　being　transported　back　to　the　Capitol　to　be　cleaned　up；　redressed；　and　shipped　in　a　simple　wooden　box　back　to　District　12。　No　longer　here。　Heading　home。　I　try　hard　to　remember　if　I　saw　him　once　the　action　started。　But　the　last　image　I　can　conjure　up　is　Peeta　shaking　his　head　as　the　gong　rang　out。

Maybe　itˇs　better；　if　heˇs　gone　already。　He　had　no　confidence　he　could　win。　And　I　will　not　end　up　with　the　unpleasant　task　of　killing　him。　Maybe　itˇs　better　if　heˇs　out　of　this　for　good。

I　slump　down　next　to　my　pack；　exhausted。　I　need　to　go　through　it　anyway　before　night　falls。　See　what　I　have　to　work　with。　As　I　unhook　the　straps；　I　can　feel　itˇs　sturdily　made　although　a　rather　unfortunate　color。　This　orange　will　practically　glow　in　the　dark。　I　make　a　mental　note　to　camouflage　it　first　thing　tomorrow。

I　flip　open　t