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

look. The fireball hits a tree off to my left, engulfing 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
try to dodge 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 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. All that is needed is a direct hit.
Whatever vague plan I had conceived regarding returning
to my pond is wiped from my mind as I zigzag and dive and
leap to avoid the fireballs. Each one is only the size of an apple,
but packs tremendous power on contact. Every sense I
have goes into overdrive as the need to survive takes over.
There’s no time to judge if a move is the correct one. When
there’s a hiss, I act or die.
Something keeps me moving forward, though. A lifetime of
watching the Hunger Games lets me know that certain areas
of the arena are rigged for certain attacks. And that if I can just
get away from this section, I might be able to move out of
reach of the launchers. I might also then fall straight into a pit
of vipers, but I can’t worry about that now.
How long I scramble along dodging the fireballs I can’t say,
but the attacks finally begin to abate. Which is good, because
I’m retching again. This time it’s an acidic substance that
scalds my throat and makes its way into my nose as well. I’m
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