“Listen,” said Kyle. At dusk, he announced, he was going to climb the big maple at the edge of the clearing and set off three flares. Three of anything was a universal sign of distress. From that height, the flares would be visible for miles, and anyone nearby would see them and send for help. Then they would all win the show.

Mara didn’t like it. It was too easy. If this was a puzzle, which she had little faith it was, then surely the solution would be more complicated. Still, some part of her was grateful. Kyle’s certainty offered a sort of quasi solution: a chance to act like they were trapped, and to try to save themselves, without the panic that being trapped would entail. Even if he was playacting, or just playing, it wouldn’t hurt to send a signal. It seemed dangerous and a little reckless, but if it was his choice, and his idea, then who was she to stop him? She’d never liked climbing trees.

“Stay close to the trunk,” Mara said.

“I know how to climb.” But he didn’t sound annoyed. More like he was trying to reassure her, and in fact it helped.

At dusk Mara put her bra back on and gave Kyle the hoodie to protect his skin from rough bark. He took off his sandals, tucked three flares in his pocket, and started to climb.

The maple had a thick trunk, as wide at the base as outstretched arms, and limbs jutted out at sharp angles all the way up. Not bad to climb; not as bad as it could be. It was a bit of a jump to the first branch, at Kyle’s chest level, but he pulled himself onto it so quickly that Mara hardly saw how he did it, and in a few movements he was ten feet up. Mara started to feel better.

“Watch out for the dead parts,” Mara called. “They’ll be weak.”

“He said he knows how to climb,” said Ashley.

She had come back to the others. They stood with Bullfrog and watched, tilting their faces up.

“I know,” said Kyle from above. He sounded happy. He clambered onto a new branch, hugging the trunk with one arm, and waved. Then he climbed higher.

The next part was tricky. Kyle had to move sideways to a branch that stuck out from the far side of the tree. There was a good handhold for the move, a knot, but it was out of his reach. He’d have to let go of the trunk and fall sideways, arms poised, then grab the handhold to stop his fall. He was almost twenty feet in the air.

Slowly Kyle turned to face the handhold. He took his hands off the trunk. Now he balanced on just his bare feet. For an instant Mara thought he might change his mind, grab the trunk again, and come back down. But he was readying himself.

“I don’t know about this,” she said.