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It's easier when they're asleep.

Matt, Olive, Jake, and Maya held around a pit of ash. They were still awake, awake in telling stories,

passing a flashlight from hand to hand, throwing it over the darkness,

but looking no further.

Above the screaming of crickets, the yawning of trees,

and the murder spree of a bat,

their voices ran far.

Jake had used his air horn on. their voices ran far.

Jake had used his air horn on more than one occasion, and Olive, quietly wrapped in her own body bag,

was still fighting Matt on every word.

Compared to the rest, Maya was mute,

mute but keenly aware.

Her eyes rarely left the woods,

and more than once she glanced his way

But all she saw was a shadow

An illusion a tree that looked like a person but surely couldn't be.

It's easier when they're asleep, divided into tents, eyes closed, silent.

He'd been waiting for hours, and for hours

they've sat in a circle of telling stories, staying awake.

The knife pressed firmly in his hand.

...