I stumbled out to the fire, after Gordy, and grabbed coffee and a stale cornmeal biscuit, brooding as I gazed at the washed sky of thin blue. Victoria was nowhere to be seen. Malaiki, eyes bloodshot and hollow, stared into the fire.

“The road seems to go on forever,” Malaiki said. “I can’t. After that tunnel, I need to rest.”

I heard the defeat in her voice, and I was relieved that she’d spoken—we all needed rest.

“No,” Shad said. “When we rested last, we wasted time and … lost David. We must move on.”

“But doesn’t the GuideBook say we need rest?” Malaiki asked.

“We rest each night. That’s enough.”

“But look,” Malaiki said, turning the pages of her book. “It says right here that—”

“I said we’re moving on!” Shad shouted. Malaiki winced, and the book dropped out of her hands. I picked it up and handed it to her, glaring at Shad. Irritating was one thing, mean was another. Under the great snowy brows of his aged face his dark eyes were coals that could leap into fire at any moment. I was tired of being under his thumb.

We traveled two more days, walking slowly and stiffly. Though the voice of adventure kept telling me to press on and discover what was around the next bend, the voices of my burning shoulders and aching knees and throbbing calves cast dissenting votes. We still hadn’t recovered from the tunnel. The silence of the road was interrupted only by sighs and grumbling.

We spent the night on a slope just outside a large town that appeared to stretch for a few miles down the road. After a breakfast of red onions and fried zucchini and packaged rolled oats boiled on the fire, I took Malaiki, Victoria, and Gordy aside and convinced them we all had to stand up to Shad, for his sake as well as ours. When Shad approached us, the conversation stopped. He looked at us suspiciously.

“We’re taking a day of rest,” I said.

“No. We have to keep moving.”

“Didn’t you once say we shouldn’t trust you? Well, guess what—we don’t. You’re off base on this one. Our legs feel like lead, we’re sore, tired, and we need a break. It’s not negotiable. End of discussion.”

Shad marched off, pouting. The others looked on wide-eyed and slack-jawed. This was new territory for them. I enjoyed myself. The moment I did it, I knew I should have done it long ago.

19

WHILE SHAD WANDERED off by himself, the others went to the tents to go back to sleep. Over a third cup of dark campfire coffee, I savored the way I’d finally taken control.