“Sky Hanson,” I remind her. “All for one and one for all.”

“I guess,” she says grudgingly.

Deke ducks under the tarp and joins us, followed eagerly by Tony. Who immediately rubs his hands together and wants to know what’s for breakfast. Deke picks up on that and demands to know what’s in the backpack. “I bet there’s trail mix. Here, let me look.”

Mia snatches it out of reach. “I’ll share whatever there is, but this is my responsibility. Okay?”

“Not okay. Are you serious? But go ahead and check it out, we’re all starving.”

She carefully reopens the chunky backpack and rummages around.

“Any bacon?” Tony asks, making it a joke for Deke’s approval.

Mia ignores him. There’s a lot of useful stuff stowed in the pack. A flashlight, a compass, a fire-starter kit, a large clasp knife. Six metal cups for collecting and drinking rainwater. A space blanket, a first aid kit, and a lightweight one-quart pan for boiling water.

Mia hands each of us a cup. “See the lanyard? Clip it to your belts so you don’t lose it.”

“No food? Come on!”

Mia gives us a sly grin and lifts a large, obviously heavy package out of the backpack.

“Not bacon,” she says. “Freeze-dried meals. Six servings per package.”

“Let me see that,” Deke demands, reaching out.

Mia shakes her head and is about to say something, when the sky cracks open.

8. One Word

The lightning must have struck close by. A blinding flash and a blast of thunder so loud, so awesomely huge, that it feels like a punch to the chest. A reminder that even though I’ve been scared for hours, it can always get worse. That just because we survived a massive flood and a collapsing cliff doesn’t mean we can’t get struck by lightning.

One thing I’ve learned, long before this trip, is that something bad can happen at any moment. And you never know what it might be. As if to prove me right, a gust of wind rips the blue tarp from the saplings and sets it flapping like some crazy bird.

We’re instantly drenched. The rain is coming down so hard I can barely see, but I’m pretty sure Mia is shoving stuff into the backpack as she shouts, “Grab the ropes! Grab the ropes!”

Easier said than done. The ropes are whipping around like skinny white snakes, but I finally manage to keep hold of one, and Deke has the other. He’s laughing like he thinks this is fun. Not me. I feel like we’re fighting for our lives, and there’s nothing funny about that. But whatever, between us we get the tarp under control. And when the wind stops gusting, we tie the tarp to the saplings, and just like that, we have shelter again.

“That was excellent,” Mia says to me and Deke. “Teamwork!”