“You want me to give you my used tampons?”

“Don’t be self-conscious,” said Lenny. “It’s normal. No judgment, okay?”

Ashley looked incredulous, but she shook herself a little, and the look went away in an instant. It was amazing how quickly she readjusted her face.

“Of course,” she said. “No problem.”

Mara thought they were done, but Kyle and James had questions—should they ask permission before leaving camp, that sort of thing—that went on far too long. Finally Lenny zipped up his coat. “One last thing,” he said. “I’d suggest you don’t wander too far alone. We have eyes on a bear and her cub, and she’s shown some aggression. We’re armed, but you’re not.” Mara wondered if the bear was real, or if there was some other reason he wanted to keep them close. “I mean it,” said Lenny, as if he could read her mind. “It’s better to watch out.”

5

Ideally, by nightfall at a new camp, Mara would have a shelter built. Something compact for warmth, with good insulation, and more or less watertight. A fire going, and a stockpile of wood: thick logs to burn while she slept, and handfuls of grass and twigs for when she woke and had to wake the coals. Plus water, of course, treated or filtered or boiled.

More than that, she’d have a sense of the area. Animal signs, tracks and trails. Thorny or stinging plants to avoid. If she heard sounds from the darkness, she’d know where the creatures came from and where they were going. She liked to know what surrounded her in the night.

It wasn’t a big deal, but she felt put off by not having time to settle in before dark. She blamed Kyle and James for the tedious questions that took up the last half hour of light. There would be endless time for logistics in the next days and weeks, and no way now to make a shelter for the night, or to explore. But at least they had a fire, and wood to last through morning. Smoke to keep the mosquitos slow. And bright stars above; it didn’t look like rain. It could have been better; it could have been worse.

Bullfrog lay down and closed his eyes, and though Mara could have done the same, she was struck with some vague sense of social duty and instead sat up with the others and envied him. The fire crackled pleasantly, and sparks rose toward the sky.

Kyle was griping about the rabbit ban.

“This is survival,” he said. “Real survival means using whatever resources you find. That’s the whole point of it. You’re surviving. Anything goes.”

“This isn’t survival,” said Mara. She wondered how the mic worked. If Lenny was listening to her right now over a radio somehow, or if he would only hear her later.

“Look at us,” said Kyle. “Of course it’s survival.”

“It’s a survival game,” she said. “We’re playing the game. It’s not survival if you have a choice.”