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

ing on one foot, teetering slightly, sometimes risking a few
steps. At one point, she launches up in the air, over a small
barrel and lands poised on her tiptoes. But she overshot
slightly, and her momentum throws her forward. I hear her
give a sharp squeal as her hands hit the ground, but nothing
happens. In a moment, she’s regained her feet and continues
until she has reached the bulk of the supplies.
So, I’m right about the booby trap, but it’s clearly more
complex than I had imagined. I was right about the girl, too.
How wily is she to have discovered this path into the food and
to be able to replicate it so neatly? She fills her pack, taking a
few items from a variety of containers, crackers from a crate, a
handful of apples from a burlap sack that hangs suspended
from a rope off the side of a bin. But only a handful from each,
not enough to tip off that the food is missing. Not enough to
cause suspicion. And then she’s doing her odd little dance
back out of the circle and scampering into the woods again,
safe and sound.
I realize I’m grinding my teeth in frustration. Foxface has
confirmed what I’d already guessed. But what sort of trap
have they laid that requires such dexterity? Has so many trigger
points? Why did she squeal so as her hands made contact
with the earth? You’d have thought . . . and slowly it begins to
dawn on me . . . you’d have thought the very ground was going
to explode.
“It’s mined,” I whisper. That explains everything. The Careers’
willingness to leave their supplies, Foxface’s reaction,
the involvement of the boy from District 3, where they have
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