IT’S NOT UNTIL SHE’S ACTUALLY EATING that Dawn realizes how hungry she is.
She’s starving.
She hasn’t eaten anything but energy bars since breakfast, and with the whole stress of the day and Amber falling and then the getting-lost-in-the-dark thing, Dawn’s been too distracted to eat.
But now, as she stirs her spork into one of Christian’s emergency dehydrated mountain-climber mystery-meat dinners, Dawn can hear her stomach growl and feels a little dizzy, and even the mystery meat looks like prime rib.
It’s actually some kind of pasta, according to the package. All Dawn knows is that it’s hot and it’s filling and it’s better than energy bars or, like, the sack of rice she’s been lugging around since forever.
It’s freaking delicious.
She eats so fast she doesn’t realize Warden’s watching her, but then she looks up from the little tinfoil bag and catches the gleam in Warden’s eyes across the campfire and it’s obvious he’s been looking at her pigging out this whole time, and Dawn sits up straighter and puts the bag down and tries to swallow and smile back and look cool without, you know, making a fool of herself, and then Warden makes a gesture like he’s wiping his chin and his smile never wavers and Dawn sets her spork down and touches her own chin and there’s like, drool or pasta sauce all over her face, and Warden bursts out laughing and Dawn spins away, mortified, but she kind of has to laugh, too, and on the other side of the fire, Lucas makes a disgusted noise and looks away.
And Warden’s still watching Dawn, and his eyes are still alight with the glow of the fire.
“What about Christian?” Dawn asks as the wind continues to pick up around the fire circle.
Brandon and Evan kind of snicker. “What about Christian?” Evan says.
But Lucas gets it. “He doesn’t have a tent up there at the summit,” he says. “The way this storm’s blowing in, shouldn’t we be worried? Like, it’s bound to be pretty cold up there overnight.”
Dawn glances at him, grateful, but Lucas ignores her. He’s watching Warden instead. So is everyone else.
Warden shakes his head. “We found a cavern up there,” he says. “Just, like, a little sheltered overhang. And Christian had an emergency blanket in his bag; I made sure of it. He’ll be cold tonight, but he should be okay.”
He looks at each group member in turn, and he sounds confident and not worried at all.
And Dawn figures that means she doesn’t need to worry either.
Night falls around them. The wind’s blowing hard now, whipping the flames from the campfire to and fro, sending sparks billowing up skyward in clouds of light. It’s cold now, away from the campfire, and Dawn can feel the first drops of rain on her face.
Shit, she realizes. I haven’t even set up my tarp yet.
She stands up from the fire circle into a bitter blast of wind, already hating the thought of setting up her stupid tarp in the dark before it starts to rain too hard. Knowing she’ll never stay dry enough, warm enough, to get any sleep tonight.
You should have picked the tent, she tells herself. Not the goddamn backpack.
It’s going to be a long, awful night.