【饥饿游戏】51

Chapter 13
My first impulse is to scramble 1 from the tree, but I’m belted
in. Somehow my fumbling 2 fingers release the buckle 3 and I fall
to the ground in a heap, still snarled 4 in my sleeping bag.
There’s no time for any kind of packing. Fortunately, my
backpack and water bottle are already in the bag. I shove in
the belt, hoist 5 the bag over my shoulder, and flee.
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 6 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 7 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 8 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 9 height, a uniformity that marks them as humanmade,
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 10 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 11. 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 12 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 don’t dare leave the
jacket, scorched 13 and smoldering 14 as it is, I take the risk of shoving
it in my sleeping bag, hoping the lack of air will quell 15 what
I haven’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 16 turns to distress 17
until each breath sends a searing pain through my chest. I
manage to take cover under a stone outcropping just as the
vomiting 18 begins, and I lose my meager 19 supper and whatever
water has remained in my stomach. Crouching 20 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 lightheaded
now, gasping 21 for air. I allow myself about a spoonful of
water to rinse 22 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 haven’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 23 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 won’t burn indefinitely. Not because the
Gamemakers couldn’t keep it fueled but because, again, that
would invite accusations 24 of boredom 25 from the audience. If I
could get back behind the fire line, I could avoid meeting up
with the Careers. I’ve just decided 26 to try and loop back
around, although it will require miles of travel away from the
inferno 27 and then a very circuitous 28 route back, when the first
fireball blasts into the rock about two feet from my head. I
spring out from under my ledge 29, energized 30 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 31, I flatten 32 on the ground, not taking time to
look. The fireball hits a tree off to my left, engulfing 33 it in
flames. To remain still is death. I’m barely on my feet before
the third ball hits the ground where I was lying, sending a pillar
of fire up behind me. Time loses meaning now as I frantically 34
try to dodge 35 the attacks. I can’t see where they’re being
launched from, but it’s not a hovercraft. The angles are not extreme
enough. Probably this whole segment of the woods has
been armed with precision launchers that are concealed 36 in
trees or rocks. Somewhere, in a cool and spotless room, a Gamemaker
sits at a set of controls, fingers on the triggers that
could end my life in a second. 
terrain n. [地理] 地形，地势；领域；地带
inferno n. 阴间，地狱