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

“Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!” I’m shouting, and although I can’t
quite see what’s happening, I know he must have stabbed the
thing because the pull lessens. I’m able to haul him back onto
the horn where we drag ourselves toward the top where the
lesser of two evils awaits.
Cato has still not regained his feet, but his breathing is
slowing and I know soon he’ll be recovered enough to come
for us, to hurl us over the side to our deaths. I arm my bow,
but the arrow ends up taking out a mutt that can only be
Thresh. Who else could jump so high? I feel a moment’s relief
because we must finally be up above the mutt line and I’m just
turning back to face Cato when Peeta’s jerked from my side.
I’m sure the pack has got him until his blood splatters my face.
Cato stands before me, almost at the lip of the horn, holding
Peeta in some kind of headlock, cutting off his air. Peeta’s
clawing at Cato’s arm, but weakly, as if confused over whether
it’s more important to breathe or try and stem the gush of
blood from the gaping hole a mutt left in his calf.
I aim one of my last two arrows at Cato’s head, knowing it’ll
have no effect on his trunk or limbs, which I can now see are
clothed in a skintight, flesh-colored mesh. Some high-grade
body armor from the Capitol. Was that what was in his pack at
the feast? Body armor to defend against my arrows? Well,
they neglected to send a face guard.
Cato just laughs. “Shoot me and he goes down with me.”
He’s right. If I take him out and he falls to the mutts, Peeta
is sure to die with him. We’ve reached a stalemate. I can’t
shoot Cato without killing Peeta, too. He can’t kill Peeta with-
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