We follow the footprints through the area of bushes, into a forest of slender aspen trees. The rain is a gentle mist, and almost feels good, washing away the grit and sweat of a long and mostly sleepless night. I snug the brim of my cap, convinced we’re doing something important, something absolutely necessary. Defending ourselves. And I’m proud that my two companions have faith in me to do the right thing.

I hope I’m up to it. It’s not like I have a lot of experience standing up to bullies. Like none. Up to now, if a bully picked on me, I did my best to avoid him.

Don’t be surprised. I keep telling you I’m no hero. Once, when I was in fourth grade, an older kid grabbed my glasses and stomped them to bits. I never told the truth. Instead, I took the blame, claiming I broke my own glasses while fooling around on the jungle gym.

Glasses are expensive, and my dad wasn’t working at the time. Mom sent me to bed early as punishment. All because I was afraid to tell on a kid who could stomp me like he stomped my glasses.

Mia points and whispers, “Over there.”

Eyes of an eagle, that’s Mia. Through the skinny aspens, she’s spotted a place where a large stone slab juts out from a hillside. And there, under the slab, is the enemy. Deke and Tony sound asleep, stretched out like they don’t have a care in the world. Their campfire is still smoking. Pine branches from a tree that fell under the slab, out of the rain. As we get closer, we can see the water pan resting in the ashes, and a couple of empty freeze-dried food packages.

Mia is seething. The first thing these jerks did was eat twelve servings of food between them. Two full packages. No wonder they’re sleeping like spoiled babies! But Mia will have to hold her temper. What’s important is recovering the backpack, and whatever is left of the food.

Mia’s plan of attack is that one of us sneaks up, as silently as possible, and takes the pack while they’re sleeping. We discuss it quietly, and Imani is having none of it. “We need to scare them,” she whispers fiercely. “Otherwise they’ll attack us again. We have to end this right now, while we have the chance.”

She has a better idea, and once she explains it, I know in my heart she’s right.

Gripping our spears, we creep up on the sleeping boys. If only they knew what is about to happen. But they don’t, and that’s what gives us the advantage. On the silent count of three, we leap to our feet, shaking our “spears” like warriors and shrieking at the top of our lungs.

“DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!”