The Hunger Games

the time. We divide up our food supplies, so in case we’re separated, we’ll both be set for a few days. Apart from the food, Rue has a small water skin, a homemade slingshot, and an extra pair of socks. She also has a sharp shard of rock she uses as a knife. “I know it’s not much,” she says as if embarrassed, “but I had to get away from the Cornucopia fast.”
    “You did just right,” I say. When I spread out my gear, she gasps a little when she sees the sunglasses.
    “How did you get those?” she asks.
    “In my pack. They’ve been useless so far. They don’t block the sun and they make it harder to see,” I say with a shrug.
    “These aren’t for sun, they’re for darkness,” exclaims Rue. “Sometimes, when we harvest through the night, they’ll pass out a few pairs to those of us highest in the trees. Where the torchlight doesn’t reach. One time, this boy Martin, he tried to keep his pair. Hid it in his pants. They killed him on the spot.”
    “They killed a boy for taking these?” I say.
    “Yes, and everyone knew he was no danger. Martin wasn’t right in the head. I mean, he still acted like a three-year-old. He just wanted the glasses to play with,” says Rue.
    Hearing this makes me feel like District 12 is some sort of safe haven. Of course, people keel over from starvation all the time, but I can’t imagine the Peacekeepers murdering a simpleminded child. There’s a little girl, one of Greasy Sae’s grandkids, who wanders around the Hob. She’s not quite right, but she’s treated as a sort of pet. People toss her scraps and things.
    “So what do these do?” I ask Rue, taking the glasses.
    “They let you see in complete darkness,” says Rue. “Try them tonight when the sun goes down.”
    I give Rue some matches and she makes sure I have plenty of leaves in case my stings flare up again. We extinguish our fire and head upstream until it’s almost nightfall.
    “Where do you sleep?” I ask her. “In the trees?” She nods. “In just your jacket?”
    Rue holds up her extra pair of socks. “I have these for my hands.”
    I think of how cold the nights have been. “You can share my sleeping bag if you want. We’ll both easily fit.” Her face lights up. I can tell this is more than she dared hope for.
    We pick a fork high in a tree and settle in for the night just as the anthem begins to play. There were no deaths today.
    “Rue, I only woke up today. How many nights did I miss?” The anthem should block out our words, but still I whisper. I even take the precaution of covering my lips with my hand. I don’t want the audience to know what I’m planning to tell her about Peeta. Taking a cue from me, she does the same.
    “Two,” she says. “The girls from Districts One and Four are dead. There’s ten of us left.”
    “Something strange happened. At least, I think it did. It might have been the tracker jacker venom making me imagine things,” I say. “You know the boy from my district? Peeta? I think he saved my life. But he was with the Careers.”
    “He’s not with them now,” she says. “I’ve spied on their base camp by the lake. They made it back before they collapsed from the stingers. But he’s not there. Maybe he did save you and had to run.”
    I don’t answer. If, in fact, Peeta did save me, I’m in his debt again. And this can’t be paid back. “If he did, it was all probably just part of his act. You know, to make people think he’s in love with me.”
    “Oh,” says Rue thoughtfully. “I didn’t think that was an act.”
    “Course it is,” I say. “He worked it out with our mentor.” The anthem ends and the sky goes dark. “Let’s try out these glasses.” I pull out the glasses and slip them on. Rue wasn’t kidding. I can see everything from the leaves on the trees to a skunk strolling through the bushes a good fifty feet away. I could kill it from here if I had a mind to. I could kill anyone.
    “I wonder who else got a pair of these,” I say.
    “The Careers have two pairs. But they’ve got everything down by the lake,” Rue says. “And they’re so strong.”
    “We’re strong, too,” I say. “Just in a different way.”
    “You are. You can shoot,” she says. “What can I do?”
    “You can feed yourself. Can they?” I ask.
    “They don’t need to. They have all those supplies,” Rue says.
    “Say they didn’t. Say the supplies were gone. How long would they last?” I say. “I mean, it’s the Hunger Games,