Not that anyone is going to die, or even get hurt. It’s all for show, to put the fear into them. They’re on the ground, confused, waking up to a nightmare. We swarm all over them, screaming and stamping our feet and shaking our weapons.

They don’t stand a chance.

Mia grabs the pack, Imani snatches the water pan, and we screech off into the forest.

The war isn’t over, but we won the battle, and it sure feels good.

18. Making a Fire

About a hundred yards from the enemy camp, we pause to catch our breath.

“What’s next?” Imani wants to know.

“Daniel?” Mia asks. “Any ideas?”

“Grab the tarp and put some distance between us. We can’t let them get ahead or they’ll ambush us.”

“I agree.”

Imani runs back, grabs the tarp, and Mia tucks it into the backpack. “Ready? Let’s go!”

We take off running.

Now that the attack is over, I’m scared to death. We threatened them with sticks that looked like spears. What will they do in revenge? Use real, sharpened spears? It wouldn’t surprise me, and the fear of it helps me run. Not flat-out running, I can’t keep that up for long. More like jogging. We’re following the path of least resistance, avoiding thick woodlands and underbrush that might slow us down, but trying not to stray too far from the river.

Lose the river and we’ll truly be lost.

Jogging in the misty rain on an empty stomach—not my idea of a fun adventure. I pretend we’ll find a restaurant along the way. An old-style twenty-four-hour breakfast diner like we have in New Hampshire. I’ll order pancakes and eggs and sausage and toast and home fries and a big glass of cold milk.

I never had a goal in life, not really, but I do now. If we survive this, I never want to be hungry again.

I don’t know how long we keep going, but it feels like hours. Eventually, Imani begs us to stop. She has a pain under her ribs and can’t go on, not without resting for a while.

“Fine,” Mia says. “Daniel, can you help me rig the tarp? We need to eat something.”

Like before, finding dry kindling is a problem. By the time I gather enough for a fire, Mia has emptied out the backpack. Turns out Deke and Tony did even more damage than we expected. In addition to gorging on the freeze-dried meals, they used all the fire-starter cubes.

“Who would do that?” Mia says, more in wonder than in anger.

“Someone who believes they’ll be rescued today. No need to plan for tomorrow if helicopters are on the way.”

Mia snorts. “Have you heard any helicopters?”

“Just saying.”

“So how do we start a fire?” I ask.