suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

drops of iodine for purifying it. The half an hour of waiting is
agony, but I do it. At least,
I think it’s a half an hour, but it’s certainly as long as I can
stand.
Slowly, easy now, I tell myself. I take one swallow and make
myself wait. Then another. Over the next couple of hours, I
drink the entire half gallon. Then a second. I prepare another
before I retire to a tree where I continue sipping, eating rabbit,
and even indulge in one of my precious crackers. By the
time the anthem plays, I feel remarkably better. There are no
faces tonight, no tributes died today. Tomorrow I’ll stay here,
resting, camouflaging my backpack with mud, catching some
of those little fish I saw as I sipped, digging up the roots of the
pond lilies to make a nice meal. I snuggle down in my sleeping
bag, hanging on to my water bottle for dear life, which, of
course, it is.
A few hours later, the stampede of feet shakes me from
slumber. I look around in bewilderment. It’s not yet dawn, but
my stinging eyes can see it.
It would be hard to miss the wall of fire descending on me.
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