As if on cue, Will’s voice erupts from behind you.
“HOW COULD YOU LOSE A PEG?! IT WAS IN YOUR POCKET!”
In other circumstances you might laugh at the absurdity. But now you wonder if you’re going to survive the night.
“Somebody fed me,” you say to Fran. “Was that you?”
“Not I, said the fly,” she says. “That would be this one.”
Diana looks away. You try to wait her out, but she’s persistent.
“Thanks,” you say.
The light is disappearing quickly, and you know you’ll never start a fire when it gets dark. It will be hard enough in the remaining daylight, so you shuffle back in the direction of Troy and Will.
“IT FELL OUT! OKAY?”
“NO. NOT OKAY!”
“Guys,” you say.
“I’M FEELING VERY UNCOMFORTABLE WITH YOUR PROXIMITY RIGHT NOW,” says Troy.
“YOU’RE GOING TO FEEL MORE UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN I IMPALE YOU WITH THIS TENT POLE!”
“Guys,” you say.
Troy kneels on the ground and starts exhaling loudly.
“I’m done,” he says. “Just bury me now!”
“GUYS!” you scream. “WE NEED TO MAKE A FIRE! OR THIS COLD IS GOING TO FREEZE OUR DICKS OFF! DO EITHER OF YOU IDIOTS KNOW HOW TO USE THE FLINT?”
Will looks right at you, like he’s seeing you for the first time.
He shakes his head.
“I think Silas took the flint, bro.”
Troy blasts a breath from his nose.
“I haven’t seen it,” he says.
You look back toward the girls’ tent.
“No flint in here!” says Fran.
You reach down and extend a hand to Troy, who looks at it a moment before accepting. You pull him up, then you warm your hands again.
“People made fire, like, two million years ago,” you say. “I saw it on a National Geographic series.”
You start to shiver again, so you hop in place.
“They had flat skulls and ran around in the woods butt naked! And they could function better than we can. What the hell happened to us? How did we go from making fire with our bare hands to having panic attacks in a closet a couple million years later? What went wrong, guys?”
You’re on the verge of tears somehow. You’re not sure why talking about early humans has brought this on, and not, say, being abandoned by your Adventure Therapy counselor, but your brain remains mysterious to you. And it’s likely to stay that way. You put your face in your hands, so no one can see the brewing tears of evolutionary shame.
“Hey,” says Troy, and walks over to you.
