Raven's Mountain by Orr Wendy

a mountain is a lot bigger than the top. There are a lot more places you can end up on your way down.
    Besides, Scott was in charge. Lily and I were just looking out for animals and interesting things, we didn’t have to worry about where we were going.
    If I could find a lookout place before I get into the forest, maybe I could see the lake. I’d really like to see the lake!
    Try that big stack of boulders.
    My knees whine that they aren’t in the mood for scrambling up any more rocks today. And that there’s no point since I can’t see anyway.
    â€˜Tough luck!’ I tell them. ‘I’ve got to try!’
    My knees were right. It’s too dark. I can see the shapes of nearby trees but everything else is a black soup. The sunset has gone.
    I’m going to get lost, I’m never going to find the truck . . .
    Stop panicking! says the Dad voice. Just figure it out.
    The last of the sunset is on my left. The sun sets in the west.
    The peak is due south from the lake, so the lake is due north from the peak.
    Line myself up now and go absolutely straight. No zigzagging.
    Another list: useful things I had on the way up that I   wish I had now:
    My compass.
    The maps.
    My torch.
    Scott’s GPS.
    Scott.
    When we left yesterday morning Mum had the boxes lined up in the living room, ready to unpack. We knew she was just itching for us to back out of the driveway so she could rip the first one open and drink her coffee in a muddle of bubble wrap and crumpled newspaper.
    Of course she won’t be unpacking now. She’ll be at the Coffee Corner, giving other people whatever they want to eat and drink.
    The truck has food. There are cans of baked beans and wieners for our dinner tonight, and apples and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. I can’t remember if there are any marshmallows left. Lily toasts hers so they’re perfectly gold all around but I like them best when they catch on fire, and when you blow them out they’re black and blistered on the outside but sweet and gooey on the inside. If I had a packet now I’d eat them all raw, pink, yellow or white, I wouldn’t care.
    I don’t know what I’ll have first. I don’t know if I’m hungrier or thirstier.
    Scott and Lily have all the dried fruit, energy bars and two extra bottles of water.
    It’s fair that I’m the one who’s hungry because everything’s my fault. I’ll just eat something very fast before I   drive for help.
    You can’t even drive, Amelia says in her I-know-better voice. How are you going to do it in the dark?
    The truck’s got lights, says Jess. Raven will figure it out.
    I’ll call Mum, and she’ll tell me to crawl into my sleeping bag and sleep till the rescuers pick me up. She’ll say everything’s going to be all right. And when she’s called 911 she’ll start cooking a midnight feast for when we all get home.
    â€˜All get home; home, home, home!’ The words have been running around in my head for so long I can’t remember what they mean. The only thing I believe in is how much my feet hurt, and my finger, my bottom, and a new scratch across my cheek from walking through branches in the dark.
    And I’m tired. Beyond tired. There’s not even a word for how tired I am.
    The moon’s coming up, and it’s round and shining bright enough to see, but it makes the shadows spookier; the world is in black and white. Everything looks blurry too, even blurrier than usual without my glasses. It might be because I’m crying again. I can’t tell anymore. My feet can’t be bothered to lift themselves over roots and rocks and every time I trip it’s harder not to fall.
    Every time I fall it’s harder to get up.
    This time I can’t. Can’t get up again. I’ll just stay where I am.
    It’s not safe here, says the Dad voice. This is too cold; too hard; too out in the open. You’ve got