Trip wavered on his feet, but he still stared at his burning shelter, running his hands through ashy hair. He flashed one of his giddy grins. “I hope we got that on camera. That’s good TV.”
River was ready to say something withering. Trip didn’t seem to understand that, even though this was only a TV show, there was real risk in the wilderness. Then River saw the panic that colored the edges of Trip’s smile, and it was clear the boy was shaky, hanging on by a thread.
River wondered if the producers would show up to put out the flames. There was a lot of dead wood in the forest, fuel for a conflagration. They could only hope that the winds shifted or that it rained. Some of these trees were a hundred years old, and they’d be destroyed in less than a day. And why? Because a bunch of kids were playing at wilderness adventure.
The girl on the ground was sitting up now, and she didn’t seem confused or scared anymore.
“What were you thinking?” She included both River and Trip in her question.
“Don’t look at me,” River said. “I was rescuing him.”
The girl with the blue bandana blinked at River. “You ran right toward the fire. Are you okay?”
River nodded, rubbing his neck.
This girl was small, only coming up to his shoulder, and she had a silver nose ring and color-streaked hair. She gazed up at him with eyes so wide, you’d think he’d saved a basket of puppies.
“I didn’t know what to do. It was terrifying,” she said.
“Do you have water?” he asked.
“Of course.” The girl handed him a canteen. “I’m Liza Rojas, by the way. And that’s . . .” She indicated the other girl, who now had her back turned and her arms resting on her knees. Liza then addressed her directly. “Yeah, who are you?”
“Cameron.” The girl looked over her shoulder and frowned at Liza. “My name is Cam.”
Liza crossed her arms. She said to Trip, “What were you doing, trying to run in there like that?”
“You saw the food he had.” Cam turned to Trip. “Candy and meat sticks, right? This guy was trying to save you”—she flapped her hand at River—“and you were trying to save gummy worms.”
Liza shook her head. “That’s cheating.”
“Just a few snacks,” Trip said. “It was nothing, really.”
“And you,” Cam said to Liza. “You burned it all down. What the hell?”
Trip’s head jerked to Liza. “You what?”
Liza’s mouth turned down, but otherwise her face showed no concern at the accusation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cam said nothing. She looked Liza up and down, seemed to be taking stock of the girl and filing information away for later, brown eyes sharp and assessing. River shifted his own judgment of Cam. She no longer reminded him of delicate glass, and he felt ridiculous for having had the thought. Everything from those few seconds, in fact—when he’d first seen her and her eyes had drifted over him like smoke, those brief words they’d exchanged—it was all fading like a dream.
It figured that Trip would smuggle in candy.
The four Skyms spun in the sky above them. They zipped around one another like birds, as if excited by the drama playing out for their audience behind the lens.
River coughed as Liza handed him the canteen. He took a tentative sip of brackish water.
Steady and controlled, Cam said, “So what I understand, Trip, is that you cheated and you’re going to tap out now, right?” Cam met everyone’s eyes in turn. “You all heard that? Trip’s going to tap out.” There was no doubt or hesitation in her voice.
“No way. I’m not going anywhere.”
Cam’s expression was veiled as she considered Trip.
The sun set, and although the twilight was suffused with smoky ash, the sky glowed gold in the distance. The wind shifted and swirled, and behind the mountain, to the north, thunder rumbled. The fire was out of control now, but hopefully would be doused by the coming storm. The air chilled—or else River’s body was responding to the shift in temperature after being in the blaze.
“Let’s talk about this after we make camp,” River said.
“He’s right,” said Liza. “It’s getting late. We need to work together for now, help each other. I mean, that’s the spirit of the show, right?”
Cam laughed dismissively. “What show do you think you’re on?”
“A storm’s coming,” River said. “Unless you want to spend the night cold and wet, we should get started.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Cam offered a sarcastic salute, the sleeve of her loose-fitting shirt falling to her shoulder. Her baggy clothes draped her body, making her look younger than she was. “But this conversation’s not over.”
As it was, they were only halfway through building the shelter when rain poured down, dousing what remained of the fire and thoroughly soaking them. River had worried about preparing a shelter big enough to fit the four of them, and what they ended up with was worse than he’d feared. They huddled, dripping, around a feeble campfire, made all the more pathetic after the blazing inferno earlier, while bugs crawled over their feet. It was freezing, and Liza leaned heavily into River’s arm. Normally he’d find such closeness awkward, but right then he was perfectly happy for another body to stave off the chill. He folded his arms, his muscles tight with the effort not to shake.
Cam sat farther away, clutching her drawn-up legs. Her lips had turned blue and she looked miserable. River thought about offering his jacket, even though it was stiff with dampness and smelled like fish. Something told him she’d decline the offer. She was closed off, purposefully not clustered with the three of them, and distracted, as if she was still troubled about Trip. She seemed to be all about the game, and wouldn’t like giving the impression she wasn’t as tough as the rest of them. If she didn’t warm up soon, he’d give her the jacket whether she wanted it or not. The wilderness was no place for pride—or games, for that matter, reality show or not.
Their packs were stacked in the back of the lean-to, and the Skyms circled as always. Even with the rain and their numb fingers, they’d switched out the batteries so their conversation could be streamed, but none of them wanted to talk. Cam’s faraway look broke, and she rubbed her bare arms vigorously, her eyes on Trip. He felt the weight of her stare. He reached into his pack and came out with a handful of conciliatory meat sticks and passed them around. They peeled back the plastic with trembling hands.
Once the food was eaten, they went back to shivering silently, the brief moment of comfort gone too quickly.
Trip shuddered and brushed frantically at his shoulder. “Ugh. This shelter sucks,” he said. “God, I hate spiders.”
Cam nodded to Trip’s pack. “So what else you got in there, Trip?” She reached past Liza and snatched the bag.
“Hey!” he said.
She lifted out a package of juice boxes, which she tossed to River.
“That’s theft,” Trip said. “I was going to share them anyway.”
“Really?” Cam said, searching deeper. “Were you going to share this, too?” She pulled a phone from the bag, holding it up for everyone to see.