But he doesn’t answer, only picks up the pace.
He’s halfway across the rocky flat when I hear a long exhale from behind me. I turn and see Matteo, arms crossed.
“You need to go after him,” I say.
“That’s the last thingeitherof us needs,” Matteo says. “Dude wants to throw me off a cliff.”
At least he’s seeing things clearly.
“You made this mess, Matty. You need to fix it. He’ll try to take theloop all the way back around, and he’ll never make it on his own—if you go with him, you can show him the shortcuts.”
His brow furrows. “Cloverleaf Creek? And…what else?”
I nod. “Cloverleaf Creek all the way back up to Mackenzie Lake, then you can take Hedge Key Pass over to catch back up with us at Sparrow Valley. Shouldn’t take more than a day, two at most. You probably won’t find the ring, but hopefully he’ll drop it if you at least help him look.”
I don’t know why Matteo doesn’t fight me on it—maybe because he’s aware enough to realize this situation is very, very bad, both for us as leaders and especially for Joshua.
“I’ll go,” he says carefully. “But this isn’t all on me, man.”
All his accusations from in the cave, and earlier, slither like vipers back into my head: his insinuation that I, too, irresponsibly ditched my post at the rappelling site—that maybe if I hadn’t been so distracted with Sadie, we wouldn’t have ended up here.
“I wasn’t the one making out with one of our trekkers’ exes,” I say through gritted teeth. “That wasyou. No matter what led to it.”
This is a disaster.
I honestly thinknocoleader would be better than this—which is fortunate, I realize, since that’s exactly what this situation is boiling down to.
Matteo doesn’t say another word.
Ten minutes later, he’s gone, following at a distance after Joshua, armed with a tent and a tarp and enough food to get them both through the next day or two before we all meet up again.
Until then, it’s all on me to get everyone else through this trek in one piece. More than ever, I can’t afford any distractions—not from Matteo, not from Sadie.
Not from anyone.
27THORN
I need to call Danica. The sooner, the better—I should have called already, honestly—but my trust is so frayed right now that I’m struggling to step away from the group, even for a few minutes.
The other thing holding me back: I’m still working up the nerve.
How do I explain what just happened without also confessing that I was off with Sadie when all the chaos went down? It scares me to think of how easily I lost track of time today. I let my guard down, forgot myself and everyone else for just long enough that it turned into a big problem.
Not to mention I’m down a coleader.
Deep down, I think there’s a part of me that thinks if I just do a good enough job on my own—get us through the next few days without any more injuries or incidents—Danica will never have to know the extent of what went down until we’re all back in one piece.
But I’m not sure my conscience could live with that.
I find a quiet spot at the far end of Alexandria Flat, the only place around here where I can get some privacy while still keeping an eye on camp.
“Come on, Danica,” I mutter under my breath as it rings. “Pick up.”
“Thorn?” she says, her voice crackling; one of us has a sketchy connection. “Everything okay?”
It’s not, and the fact that I’m calling at all from out here means she already knows it.
“Things took a bit of a turn today,” I tell her.
