Thrown to the Wolves (The Faith in Peril Trilogy) by Holly Newcastle Page B

should’ve stayed where we were and made camp,” said Jacob. “I could’ve had a toasty fire blazing by now. I can rub two sticks together. I know what I’m doing.”
    I wasn’t going to listen to him, having begun the trek back up the hill. “Come along. We’re going back.” The dog bounded forward, passing me. “You were supposed to help us find the way home! Go home, Molly! Go home!” We forged onward, but the uphill walk tired me. It seemed that an hour or so drifted by, but I could not be certain. The elevation had leveled again. “We have to be close now. We have to.”
    “I’m thirsty,” said Jacob.
    “Do you hear any water?” asked Anna. “Can we stop for a moment? I’d like to listen for a creek.”
    Something buzzed near my ear, and I slapped my kapp . “Ugh.” I had stopped, while tiredness settled upon me, my spirit flattening. “Fine. You try to find water. Good luck. We have to boil everything. We can’t drink it from the source or we’ll get sick.”
    “Where did Molly go?” asked Jacob. “She’s not here anymore.”
    “Let’s listen for her,” said Anna. “Shush, and maybe you’ll hear something.”
    We stood together beneath the trees, not speaking for a long while. I heard nothing other than crickets and the annoying buzz of a mosquito. “She’s gone again.”
    “We need to make a decision,” said Anna. “We can’t keep walking all night. We need to find a flat, dry place and make a shelter.”
    “I can do the fire,” said Jacob. “You choose the spot, and I’ll get to work.”
    I had hoped we would be able to find our house tonight. I had placed all my trust in a dog, and she had let me down. “I think that’s all we can do now, until morning. Mam and Dat will be beside themselves. I’m sure they’re wondering where we are.”
    “They’ll come looking for us in the morning,” said Anna. “They’ll fire a few shots, and we can follow the sound.”
    That seemed reasonable. “Yes.”
    “We can survive one night in the forest. Think of it as an adventure. Jacob can make a fire, and we’ll try to find some leaves to sleep on.”
    “You forget one thing,” I said, hating the sound of defeat in my voice. “We can’t see a single thing. It’s pitch black.”
    “We’ll learn to feel our way around.”
    “And then we’ll itch all night from some poisonous plant.”
    “That will happen anyhow.”
    Twigs snapped, as Anna began to walk. “Come now. Let’s find a safe place to sit.”
    The search for a shelter far exceeded a few minutes, because place after place was deemed less than ideal. I had grown even more tired; my feet felt like lead blocks, heavy and cumbersome. I tripped over everything in my path. Molly bounded towards us again a while later, but I was far too tired to acknowledge her. We eventually settled on a spot that seemed dryer than the others, the ground clear, save for leaves.
    “This will have to do,” said Anna. “It’s all we can hope for at the moment.”
    I walked back and forth, my feet feeling nothing but dirt. “Yes. It’s flat. I can’t see a thing, but it feels somewhat level.”
    “I’m off to get firewood,” declared Jacob.
    “Where are you going?” Losing him terrified me. “You can’t wander far. You must be within speaking distance.”
    “If you keep talking, I’ll know where you are. I’ll circle the camp and find wood. It’s going to be fine, Rebekah. I’ll take care of everything. I’m the only man here, after all.” And this had been spoken from a five-year-old.
    “All right, Jacob.” I shook my head, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. “You do that.” I could barely see my sister in the darkness. “What time do you think it is?”
    “Later than we assume.”
    She had confirmed one of my fears. “Why do you say that?”
    “We’ve been walking for hours. I don’t know if you’re aware or not, but it’s been that long.”
    “We’ve more than likely gone in one big