“I think so,” Adam said. He pivoted his head to the left and pointed. “And over there, too. And there. Holy shit.” The other mushrooms glowed less intensely, perhaps because they were farther away, perhaps for other reasons. Adam had neither the knowledge nor the vocabulary to decide.

Emma said, “We’re going to die.”

The night flashed four more times in no more than a couple of seconds. In a half minute or so, the booms arrived. These were distant, yet still powerful.

“We must be under attack,” Adam said. “Why? Who?”

“We need to get out of here,” Emma said. She turned and started to run into the night, away from the vista of destruction.

“Wait!” Adam yelled. Emma kept running and Adam took off after her. “Stop, goddammit! I’m naked! So are you!” In the dark, every irregularity of the forest floor tore at the soles of his feet.

As if on cue, Emma yelped and pulled up short, dancing on one foot. “Shit!”

Adam caught up with her. “Where are you going?”

“Those are bombs!” Emma shouted. “Friggin’ bombs!”

“But we weren’t hit!” Adam shouted back.

“We don’t have any shelter out here,” Emma said.

“Do you know a place where there is shelter?”

Emma just stared back at him. Then, “We can’t just stay out here in the open.”

Adam looked around. They had the protection of big rocks and tall trees. All things considered, he could think of way worse places to be. “Let’s at least go back and get dressed.”

“Then what?”

“I have no idea,” Adam said.

Adam led the way back to their tent. On all fours, he crawled past the flap and over his sleeping bag to get to his rucksack. He tore open the Velcro flap and yanked a little emergency radio out of its pocket. He turned it on.

“Emergency, emergency, emergency,” he said after keying the mic. “Anyone on the channel, please respond.”

He was transmitting on a channel that was reserved exclusively for emergency traffic and was routinely monitored by emergency services and hobbyists alike. He released the transmit key and listened for a reply. Nothing.

He repeated the emergency call, then added, “This is Adam Emerson and Emma Carson. We’re students.”

While he waited for a reply, he lay on his back and pulled on his underwear and pants, then sat up to don his T-shirt and shirt. Next to him, Emma was also dressing. She fished her smart phone from her pants. “This won’t even turn on,” she said.

He tried the radio again as he handed his phone to Emma. “Use mine. It’s fully charged.”

Adam two-fingered his hiking boots and backed out into the glowing night. He tried the radio one more time. “They’re not answering,” he told Emma when she emerged from the tent.

“Try again. Your phone’s dead, too.”