Filed To Story: Sunrise on the Reaping Book PDF Free
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got a feeling Wellie would want to get as far from that volcano as possible.”
“I don’t know. We’ve been all over that area with no sign of her.”
“Exactly. It’s like Mags said. In the arena, you generally keep moving. And she hasn’t been there yet. Let’s just give it a try.”
Maysilee looks unconvinced, but stays the course. For a mile or so anyway. “I don’t think we’re going to find her up this way,” she says finally.
“Really? I think we’re on the right track.”
“Why? The arena narrows to a point up north, right? Like it did in the south?”
Never underestimate her observational skills. “Well, not right away.”
“But it does. Wouldn’t Wellie just feel trapped?”
“Which is exactly why the Careers won’t think to look around here. Just what you said.” I can feel myself skating on thin ice, but I try to project confidence, adding a little bounce to my step.
Maysilee shoots me a look but trudges along for a while, thinking. Then she stops cold. “No, you’re wrong. Wellie would stand a much better chance in the meadow than she would up here. Little thing like her, she could disappear into that grass. It goes on for miles. Lay low and look for food at the Cornucopia. They’d never find her. And even if she did come to the woods, she’s too smart to let herself get penned in like that. You know that. But you’re taking me north again, Haymitch. Why?” She folds her arms and waits.
I’m going to have to tell her something or it’s all over. “The hedge. I think we should give it another look.”
She shudders. “Ugh. Even if I had a quart of blood to spare, why on earth would we do that?”
I hold out my hands to indicate the arena. “Because it has to end somewhere, right? The arena can’t go on forever.”
“What do you expect to find?”
“I don’t know. But maybe there’s something we can use.”
“You mean, like something mechanical? Electrical?”
“Maybe. Or if not that, maybe we can collect those ladybugs to use as a weapon ourselves. Make the maze into a trap for the Careers. Lure them in, drop a tarp of ladybugs on them, get them lost in there. It’s not easy to escape. I just think if we’re smart, we can use it for our own means.” I lift my brows, trying to telegraph that I can’t tell her everything, but it’s imperative. “I swear, do this and I’ll never ask you for anything else as long as I live.”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, that’s a generous offer.”
“Come on, Sis. I need this for my next poster.” How quickly that’s become our shorthand for defying the Capitol.
She relents. “All right. But it better be a good one.”
“Oh, ladybug, it will be,” I promise.
My ears feel better today, clearer and more dependable. As we move on, I’m the first to pick up on the high-pitched whine coming from the west, an area I haven’t explored this far north. “You hear that?”
“I do now,” Maysilee says. “I just thought it was part of the nature sounds here. Like the birds.”
“That’s what worries me. Think of the size of the mosquito that would generate that.” I imagine a four-foot-long bloodsucker that would make the ladybugs seem like pranksters.
“It’s a good way off. Let’s just keep our distance.” She takes a drink from a water jug and hands it over.
There’s a confusing moment when the jug bursts, splashing water over both of us, before we make sense of the knife, the fast-approaching boots, and the undeniable truth that we’re being ambushed. Caught off guard, we bolt away from the Careers – for it sure isn’t Wellie – and straight toward the giant mosquito hum. I’m hoping we can scrape Silka and Maritte off on whatever produces it.
If we could outrun them, it might be worth turning to make a stand, but those girls are so close on our heels, it seems pointless. They’d be upon us before we had time to defend ourselves. At the moment, only the trees we’re dodging between protect us from their deadly projectiles. It’s all I can do to pull my knife and hope for an opening.
Suddenly, my feet lose traction and I’m on my butt, sliding into a clearing like I’ve hit a patch of ice. In that moment, my brain tries to make sense of an incomprehensible image. Two young Gamemakers in their signature white outfits hunch over an open berm covered in scarlet poppies. One wears a protective mask and holds some kind of drill, which emits the high-pitched whining. A third Gamemaker leans over a mop. By the look on their faces, I know the surprise is mutual.
I skid to a stop a few feet in front of them in a puddle of something that brings to mind the slime that results when you boil okra. Maysilee whizzes right past the Gamemakers and latches on to a sapling at the edge of the berm, somehow staying upright. For a moment we all freeze, the shock universal. Then Silka bursts into the clearing and goes down, overturning a large bucket and sending a couple gallons of slime back onto the forest floor.
The Gamemaker with the mop, who looks like he’s near our age, lets out an indignant “Hey! Watch it!”
I know from experience that mopping’s a bottom-of-the-ladder job, so finding a Gamemaker at it seems bizarre. Like watching Plutarch Heavensbee peel potatoes or President Snow clean the hair out of a drain.
Maritte, who apparently sensed some weirdness, comes to a halt at the edge of the clearing. “What’s going on? Are you Gamemakers?” she exclaims.
The Gamemaker with the drill raises her mask and straightens up to her full height. “That’s right. And all four of you are in absolute violation of the rules. You must immediately withdraw or there will be repercussions.”
“That’d be a lot more impressive if you weren’t shaking like a leaf,” observes Maysilee, fingering her blowgun. “You must be pretty expendable, you three, getting sent in here to tidy up for us.”
There’s a pause while everybody considers the truth of this. Then all three Gamemakers make a break for the ladder that leads down to Sub-A.
Maritte’s arm snaps back and I think I’m a goner, but the trident whistles over my head and lodges in the mopper, sending him into a pillow of poppies. Almost simultaneously, the woman with the drill grabs at the spot beneath her ear and comes away with a dart. She collapses as the final Gamemaker plunges headfirst through the open berm into Sub-A. It takes a few moments before we hear her skull crack on the concrete below. I can picture that floor, having run for my life down it, and find myself preoccupied with imagining the scene.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.