the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第45章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
¨You didnˇt swallow any？〃 I ask him。
He shakes his head。 ¨You？〃
¨Guess Iˇd be dead by now if I did；〃 I say。 I can see his lips moving in reply； but I canˇt hear him over the roar of the crowd in the Capitol that theyˇre playing live over the speakers。
The hovercraft materializes overhead and two ladders drop； only thereˇs no way Iˇm letting go of Peeta。 I keep one arm around him as I help him up； and we each place a foot on the first rung of the ladder。 The electric current freezes us in place； and this time Iˇm glad because Iˇm not really sure Peeta can hang on for the whole ride。 And since my eyes were looking down； I can see that while our muscles are immobile； nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peetaˇs leg。 Sure enough； the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops； he slumps to the floor unconscious。
My fingers are still gripping the back of his jacket so tightly that when they take him away it tears leaving me with a fistful of black fabric。 Doctors in sterile white； masked and gloved； already prepped to operate； go into action。 Peetaˇs so pale and still on a silver table； tubes and wires springing out of him every which way； and for a moment I forget weˇre out of the Games and I see the doctors as just one more threat； one more pack of mutts designed to kill him。 Petrified； I lunge for him； but Iˇm caught and thrust back into another room； and a glass door seals between us。 I pound on the glass； screaming my head off。 Everyone ignores me except for some Capitol attendant who appears behind me and offers me a beverage。
I slump down on the floor； my face against the door； staring unprehendingly at the crystal glass in my hand。 Icy cold； filled with orange juice； a straw with a frilly white collar。 How wrong it looks in my bloody； filthy hand with its dirt…caked nails and scars。 My mouth waters at the smell； but I place it carefully on the floor； not trusting anything so clean and pretty。
Through the glass； I see the doctors working feverishly on Peeta； their brows creased in concentration。 I see the floping through the tubes； watch a wall of dials and lights that mean nothing to me。 Iˇm not sure； but I think his heart stops twice。
Itˇs like being home again； when they bring in the hopelessly mangled person from the mine explosion； or the woman in her third day of labor； or the famished child struggling against pneumonia and my mother and Prim； they wear that same look on their faces。 Now is the time to run away to the woods； to hide in the trees until the patient is long gone and in another part of the Seam the hammers make the coffin。 But Iˇm held here both by the hovercraft walls and the same force that holds the loved ones of the dying。 How often Iˇve seen them； ringed around our kitchen table and I thought； Why donˇt they leave？ Why do they stay to watch？
And now I know。 Itˇs because you have no choice。
I startle when I catch someone staring at me from only a few inches away and then realize itˇs my own face reflecting back in the glass。 Wild eyes； hollow cheeks； my hair in a tangled mat。 Rabid。 Feral。 Mad。 No wonder everyone is keeping a safe distance from me。
The next thing I know weˇve landed back on the roof of the Training Center and theyˇre taking Peeta but leaving me behind the door。 I start hurling myself against the glass； shrieking and I think I just catch a glimpse of pink hair it must be Effie； it has to be Effie ing to my rescue when the needle jabs me from behind。
When I wake； Iˇm afraid to move at first。 The entire ceiling glows with a soft yellow light allowing me to see that Iˇm in a room containing just my bed。 No doors； no windows are visible。 The air smells of something sharp and antiseptic。 My right arm has several tubes that extend into the wall behind me。 Iˇm naked； but the bedclothes arc soothing against my skin。 I tentatively lift my left hand above the cover。 Not only has it been scrubbed clean； the nails are filed in perfect ovals； the scars from the burns are less prominent。 I touch my cheek； my lips； the puckered scar above my eyebrow； and am just running my fingers through my silken hair when I freeze。 Apprehensively I ruffle the hair by my left ear。 No； it wasnˇt an illusion。 I can hear again。
I try and sit up； but some sort of wide restraining band around my waist keeps me from rising more than a few inches。 The physical confinement makes me panic and Iˇm trying to pull myself up and wriggle my hips through the band when a portion of the wall slides open and in steps the redheaded Avox girl carrying a tray。 The sight of her calms me and I stop trying to escape。 I want to ask her a million questions； but Iˇm afraid any familiarity would cause her harm。 Obviously I am being closely monitored。 She sets the tray across my thighs and presses something that raises me to a sitting position。 While she adjusts my pillows； I risk one question。 I say it out loud； as clearly as my rusty voice will allow； so nothing will seem secretive。 ¨Did Peeta make it？〃 She gives me a nod； and as she slips a spoon into my hand； I feel the pressure of friendship。
I guess she did not wish me dead after all。 And Peeta has made it。 Of course； he did。 With all their expensive equipment here。 Still； I hadnˇt been sure until now。
As the Avox leaves； the door closes noiselessly after her and I turn hungrily to the tray。 A bowl of clear broth； a small serving of applesauce； and a glass of water。 This is it？ I think grouchily。 Shouldnˇt my homeing dinner be a little more spectacular？ But I find itˇs an effort to finish the spare meal before me。 My stomach seems to have shrunk to the size of a chestnut； and I have to wonder how long Iˇve been out because I had no trouble eating a fairly sizable breakfast that last morning in the arena。 Thereˇs usually a lag of a few days between the end of the petition and the presentation of the victor so that they can put the starving； wounded； mess of a person back together again。 Somewhere； Cinna and Portia will be creating our wardrobes for the public appearances。 Haymitch and Effie will be arranging the banquet for our sponsors； reviewing the questions for our final interviews。 Back home； District 12 is probably in chaos as they try and organize the homeing celebrations for Peeta and me； given that the last one was close to thirty years ago。
Home！ Prim and my mother！ Gale！ Even the thought of Primˇs scruffy old cat makes me smile。 Soon I will be home！
I want to get out of this bed。 To see Peeta and Cinna； to find out more about whatˇs been going on。 And why shouldnˇt I？ I feel fine。 But as I start to work my way out of the band； I feel a cold liquid seeping into my vein from one of the tubes and almost immediately lose consciousness。
This happens on and off for an indeterminate amount of time。 My waking； eating； and； even though I resist the impulse to try and escape the bed； being knocked out again。 I seem to be in a strange； continual twilight。 Only a few things register。 The redheaded Avox girl has not returned since the feeding； my scars are disappearing； and do I imagine it？ Or do I hear a manˇs voice yelling？ Not in the Capitol accent； but in the rougher cadences of home。 And I canˇt help having a vague； forting feeling that someone is looking out for me。
Then finally； the time arrives when I e to and thereˇs nothing plugged into my right arm。 The restraint around my middle has been removed and I am free to move about。 I start to sit up but am arrested by the sight of my hands。 The skinˇs perfection； smooth and glowing。 Not only are the scars from the arena gone； but those accumulated over years of hunting have vanished without a trace。 My forehead feels like satin； and when I try to find the burn on my calf； thereˇs nothing。
I slip my legs out of bed； nervous about how they will bear my weight and find them strong and steady。 Lying at the foot of the bed is an outfit that makes me flinch。 Itˇs what all of us tributes wore in the arena。 I stare at it as if it had teeth until I remember that； of course； this is what I will wear to greet my team。
Iˇm dressed in less than a minute and fidgeting in front of the wall where I know thereˇs a door even if I canˇt see it when suddenly it slides open。 I step into a wide； deserted hall that appears to have no other doors on it。 But it must。 And behind one of them must be Peeta。 Now that Iˇm conscious and moving； Iˇm growing more and more anxious about him。 He must be all right or the Avox girl wouldnˇt have said so。 But I need to see him for myself。
¨Peeta！〃 I call out； since thereˇs no one to ask。 I hear my name in response； but itˇs not his voice。 Itˇs a voice that provokes first irritation and then eagerness。 Effie。
I turn and see them all waiting in a big chamber at the end of the hall Effie； Haymitch； and Cinna。 My feet take off without hesitation。 Maybe a victor should show more restraint； more superiority； especially when she knows this will be on tape； but I donˇt care。 I run for them and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitchˇs arms first。 When he whispers in my ear； ¨Nice job； sweetheart；〃 it doesnˇt sound sarcastic。 Effieˇs somewhat teary and keeps patting my hair and talking
about how she told everyone we were pearls。 Cinna just hugs me tight and doesnˇt say anything。 Then I notice Portia is absent and get a bad feeling。
¨Whereˇs Portia？ Is she with Peeta？ He is all right； isnˇt he？ I mean； heˇs alive？〃 I blurt out。
¨Heˇs fine。 Only they want to do your reunion live on air at the ceremony；〃 says Haymitch。
¨Oh。 Thatˇs all；〃 I say。 The awful moment of thinking Peetaˇs dead again passes。 ¨I guess Iˇd want to see that myself。〃
¨Go on with Cinna。 He has to get you ready；〃 says Haymitch。
Itˇs a relief to be alone with Cinna； to feel his protective arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from the cameras； down a few passages and to an elevator that leads to the lobby of the Training Center。 The hospital then is far underground； even beneath the gym where the tributes practiced tying knots and throwing spears。 The windows of the lobby are darkened； and a handful of guards stand on duty。 No one else is there to see us cross to the tribute elevator。 Our footsteps echo in the emptiness。 And when we ride up to the twelfth floor； the faces of all the tributes who will never return flash across my mind and thereˇs a heavy； tight place in my chest。
When the elevator doors open； Venia； Flavius； and Octavia engulf me； talking so quickly and ecstatically I canˇt make out their words。 The sentiment is clear though。 They are truly thrilled to see me and Iˇm happy to see them； too； although not like I was to see Cinna。 Itˇs more in the way one might be glad to see an affectionate trio of pets at the end of a particularly difficult day。
They sweep me into the dining room and I get a real meal roast beef and peas and soft rolls although my portions are still being strictly controlled。 Because when I ask for seconds； Iˇm refused。
¨No； no； no。 They donˇt want it all ing back up on the stage；〃 says Octavia； but she secretly slips me an extra roll under the table to let me know sheˇs on my side。
We go back to my room and Cinna disappears for a while as the prep team gets me ready。
¨Oh；
