Snap！ The sound of a breaking branch wakes me。 How long have I been asleep？ Four hours？ Five？ The tip of my nose is icy cold。 Snap！ Snap！ Whatˇs going on？ This is not the sound of a branch under someoneˇs foot； but the sharp crack of one ing from a tree。 Snap！ Snap！ I judge it to be several hundred yards to my right。 Slowly； noiselessly； I turn myself in that direction。 For a few minutes； thereˇs nothing but blackness and some scuffling。 Then I see a spark and a small fire begins to bloom。 A pair of hands warms over flames； but I canˇt make out more than that。
I have to bite my lip not to scream every foul name I know at the fire starter。 What are they thinking？ A fire Iˇll just at nightfall would have been one thing。 Those who battled at the Cornucopia； with their superior strength and surplus of supplies； they couldnˇt possibly have been near enough to spot the flames then。 But now； when theyˇve probably been bing the woods for hours looking for victims。 You might as well be waving a flag and shouting； ¨e and get me！〃
And here I am a stoneˇs throw from the biggest idiot in the Games。 Strapped in a tree。 Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares。 I mean； I know itˇs cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag。 But then you grit your teeth and stick it out until dawn！
I lay smoldering in my bag for the next couple of hours really thinking that if I can get out of this tree； I wonˇt have the least problem taking out my new neighbor。 My instinct has been to flee； not fight。 But obviously this personˇs a hazard。 Stupid people are dangerous。 And this one probably doesnˇt have much in the way of weapons while Iˇve got this excellent knife。
The sky is still dark； but I can feel the first signs of dawn approaching。 Iˇm beginning to think we meaning the person whose death Iˇm now devising and me we might actually have gone unnoticed。 Then I hear it。 Several pairs of feet breaking into a run。 The fire starter must have dozed off。 Theyˇre on her before she can escape。 I know itˇs a girl now； I can tell by the pleading； the agonized scream that follows。 Then thereˇs laughter and congratulations from several voices。 Someone cries out； ¨Twelve down and eleven to go！〃 which gets a round of appreciative hoots。
So theyˇre fighting in a pack。 Iˇm not really surprised。 Often alliances are formed in the early stages of the Games。 The strong band together to hunt down the weak then； when the tension bees too great； begin to turn on one another。 I donˇt have to wonder too hard who has made this alliance。 Itˇll be the remaining Career Tributes from Districts 1； 2； and 4。 Two boys and three girls。 The ones who lunched together。
For a moment； I hear them checking the girl for supplies。 I can tell by their ments theyˇve found nothing good。 I wonder if the victim is Rue but quickly dismiss the thought。 Sheˇs much too bright to be building a fire like that。
¨Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking。〃 Iˇm almost certain thatˇs the brutish boy from District 2。 There are murmurs of assent and then； to my horror； I hear the pack heading toward me。 They do not know Iˇm here。 How could they？ And Iˇm well concealed in the clump of trees。 At least while the sun stays down。 Then my black sleeping bag will turn from camouflage to trouble。 If they just keep moving； they will pass me and be gone in a minute。
But the Careers stop in the clearing about ten yards from my tree。 They have flashlights； torches。 I can see an arm here； a boot there； through the breaks in the branches。 I turn to stone； not even daring to breathe。 Have they spotted me？ No； not yet。 I can tell from their words their minds are elsewhere。
¨Shouldnˇt we have heard a cannon by now？〃
¨Iˇd say yes。 Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately。〃
¨Unless she isnˇt dead。〃
¨Sheˇs dead。 I stuck her myself。〃
¨Then whereˇs the cannon？〃
¨Someone should go back。 Make sure the jobˇs done。〃
¨Yeah； we donˇt want to have to track her down twice。〃
¨I said sheˇs dead！〃
An argument breaks out until one tribute silences the others。 ¨Weˇre wasting time！ Iˇll go finish her and letˇs move on！〃
I almost fall out of the tree。 The voice belongs to Peeta。
12
Thank goodness； I had the foresight to belt myself in。 Iˇve rolled sideways off the fork and Iˇm facing the ground； held in place by the belt； one hand； and my feet straddling the pack inside my sleeping bag； braced against the trunk。 There must have been some rustling when I tipped sideways； but the Careers have been too caught up in their own argument to catch it。
¨Go on； then； Lover Boy；〃 says the boy from District 2。 ¨See for yourself。〃
I just get a glimpse of Peeta； lit by a torch； heading back to the girl by the fire。 His face is swollen with bruises； thereˇs a bloody bandage on one arm； and from the sound of his gait heˇs limping somewhat。 I remember him shaking him his head； telling me not to go into the fight for the supplies； when all along； all along heˇd planned to throw himself into the thick of things。 Just the opposite of what Haymitch had mid him to do。
Okay； I can stomach that。 Seeing all those supplies was tempting。 But this 。 。 。 this other thing。 This teaming up with the Career wolf pack to hunt down the rest of us。 No one from District 12 would think of doing such a thing！ Career tributes are overly vicious； arrogant； better fed； but only because theyˇre the Capitolˇs lapdogs。
Universally； solidly hated by all but those from their own districts。 I can imagine the things theyˇre saying about him back home now。 And Peeta had the gall to talk to me about disgrace？
Obviously； the noble boy on the rooftop was playing just one more game with me。 But this will be his last。 I will eagerly watch the night skies for signs of his death； if I donˇt kill him first myself。
The Career tributes are silent until he gets out of ear shot； then use hushed voices。
¨Why donˇt we just kill him now and get it over with？〃
¨Let him tag along。 Whatˇs the harm？ And heˇs handy with that knife。〃
Is he？ Thatˇs news。 What a lot of interesting things Iˇm learning about my friend Peeta today。
¨Besides； heˇs our best chance of finding her。〃
It takes me a moment to register that the ¨her〃 theyˇre referring to is me。
¨Why？ You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff？〃
¨She might have。 Seemed pretty simpleminded to me。 Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress； I want to puke。〃
¨Wish we knew how she got that eleven。〃
¨Bet you Lover Boy knows。〃
The sound of Peeta returning silences them。
¨Was she dead？〃 asks the boy from District 2。
¨No。 But she is now；〃 says Peeta。 Just then； the cannon fires。 ¨Ready to move on？〃
The Career pack sets off at a run just as dawn begins to break； and birdsong fills the air。 I remain in my awkward position； muscles trembling with exertion for a while longer； then hoist myself back onto my branch。 I need to get down； to get going； but for a moment I lie there； digesting what Iˇve heard。 Not only is Peeta with the Careers； heˇs helping them find me。 The simpleminded girl who has to be taken seriously because of her eleven。 Because she can use a bow and arrow。 Which Peeta knows better than anyone。
But he hasnˇt told them yet。 Is he saving that information because he knows itˇs all that keeps him alive？ Is he still pretending to love me for the audience？ What is going on in his head？
Suddenly； the birds fall silent。 Then one gives a highpitched warning call。 A single note。 Just like the one Gale and I heard when the redheaded Avox girl was caught。 High above the dying campfire a hovercraft materializes。 A set of huge metal teeth drops down。 Slowly； gently； the dead tribute girl is lifted into the hovercraft。 Then it vanishes。 The birds resume their song。
¨Move；〃 I whisper to myself。 I wriggle out of my sleeping bag； roll it up； and place it in the pack。 I take a deep breath。 While Iˇve been concealed by darkness and the sleeping bag and the willow branches； it has probably been difficult for the cameras to get a good shot of me。 I know they must be tracking me now though。 The minute I hit the ground； Iˇm guaranteed a close…up。
The audience will have been beside themselves； knowing I was in the tree； that I overheard the Careers talking； that I discovered Peeta was with them。 Until I work out exactly how I want to play that； Iˇd better at least act on top of things。 Not perplexed。 Certainly not confused or frightened。
No； I need to look one step ahead of the game。
So as I slide out of the foliage and into the dawn light； I pause a second； giving the cameras time to lock on me。 Then I cock my head slightly to the side and give a knowing smile。 There！ Let them figure out what that means！
Iˇm about to take off when I think of my snares。 Maybe itˇs imprudent to check them with the others so close。 But have to。 Too many years of hunting； I guess。 And the lure of possible meat。 Iˇm rewarded with one fine rabbit。 In no time； Iˇve cleaned and gutted the animal； leaving the head； feet； tail； skin； and innards； under a pile of leaves。 Iˇm wishing for a fire eating raw rabbit can give you rabbit fever； a lesson I learned the hard way when I think of the dead tribute。 I hurry back to her camp。 Sure enough； the coals of her dying fire are still hot。 I cut up the rabbit； fashion a spit out of branches； and set it over the coals。
Iˇm glad for the cameras now。 I want sponsors to see I can hunt； that Iˇm a good bet because I wonˇt be lured into traps as easily as the others will by hunger。 While the rabbit cooks； I grind up part of a charred branch and set about camouflaging my orange pack。 The black tones it down； but I feel a layer of mud would definitely help。 Of course； to have mud； Iˇd need water 。 。 。
I pull on my gear； grab my spit； kick some dirt over the coals； and take off in the opposite direction the Careers went。 I eat half the rabbit as I go； then wrap up the leftovers in my plastic for later。 The meat stops the grumbling in my stomach but does little to quench my thirst。 Water is my top priority now。
As I hike along； I feel certain Iˇm still holding the screen in the Capitol； so Iˇm careful to continue to hide my emotions。 But what a good time Claudius Templesmith must be having with his guest mentators； dissecting Peetaˇs behavior； my reaction。 What to make of it all？ Has Peeta revealed his true colors？ How does this affect the betting odds？ Will we lose sponsors？ Do we even have sponsors？ Yes； I feel certain we do； or at least did。
Certainly Peeta has thrown a wrench into our star…crossed lover dynamic。 Or has he？ Maybe； since he hasnˇt spoken much about me； we can still get some mileage out of it。 Maybe people will think itˇs something we plotted together if I seem like it amuses me now。
The sun rises in the sky and even through the canopy it seems overly bright。 I coat my lips in some grease from the rabbit and try to keep from panting； but itˇs no use。 Itˇs only been a day and Iˇm dehydrating fast。 I try and think of everything I know about finding water。 It runs downhill； so； in fact； continuing down into this valley isnˇt a bad thing。 If I could just locate a game trai