A few hours later they arrived at their destination. Mark felt something pushing at his shoulder and was pulled from one of the strangest dreams he ever had. When he opened his eyes the world seemed blurred and distorted, so he rubbed his eyes, hoping it would clear up his confusion. "What's going on?" he asked as the world slowly came into focus and he saw Brady smiling at him.

"We're here, sleepyhead. Time to wake up," announced Brady as he stood up from his chair.

Mark turned his head to look out the window. "Where's 'here', exactly?"

Brady just smiled and started walking down the aisle toward the front of the bus.

"Hey?! Where you going?" Mark pulled himself up from his seat and rushed down the aisle behind Brady. "I can't believe you were just going to leave me there."

"I wasn't," chuckled Brady. "I knew you'd come."

Mark stepped off of the bus and stopped beside Brady as the driver retrieved their things from the luggage compartment. "There you are boys," said the driver, placing the tent on the sidewalk. "Hope your ride gets here soon - have fun on your trip."

"Thanks, John," said Brady, shaking the man's hand, causing Mark to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"How do you know his name?" whispered Mark, trying to prevent John the Bus Driver from hearing.

Brady waited for John to get back on the bus and then picked up the tent and travel bag. "Because he told me it," he said. "Of course, you were too busy drooling all over the window at the time."

"What?" Mark wiped his mouth to make sure his chin was dry. "I don't drool!"

"It's okay," chuckled Brady, "it was kind of cute, just ask John."

Mark blushed and then bent down to grab his things, immediately feeling a sharp, intruding sting on his behind. In a yelp, Mark jumped forward and howled in shock. "Hey! What the?!"

"Sorry," Brady was laughing so hard that he could barely talk. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

"What the hell did you do?" asked Mark, while rubbing his bottom.

"What do you think I did?"

"I dunno. It felt like you grabbed me with vice-grips."

"Really?" replied Brady. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pinch you that hard..."

"It's okay," decided Mark as he picked up the sleeping bags. "Now that I've had time to reflect," he stopped to clear is throat. "Wow, I really need a drink..."

Brady looked at Mark in confusion. "What?"

"Don't judge me," Mark replied after shrugging his shoulders. "So where's this Chester's place you were talking about?" he asked, looking around. "All I see is trees."

"It's just down this street," answered Brady as he began to walk, "right before we reach the town."

"Oh okay - umm, so where are we going to sleep tonight? It's already pretty late. The sun's going down."

"We'll set up the tent just outside of town near the creek. That way we won't have to walk forever to buy some supplies before we go to our secret campsite."

"Secret campsite?" asked Mark.

"Yeah. At least, I hope it's still a secret."

Staring up at the trees, while walking down the long, narrow road, Mark's foot skipped over a stone, causing him to trip and fall to the ground. "Ahhhhh!" he said in a sudden yelp, as his hands flung forward and his palms met the concrete.

All Brady noticed at first were the two sleeping bags rolling along the road in front of him, due to the loud, chirping birds that had managed to drown out Mark's scream.

"Brady! Brady don't leave me!" he begged. "Give us a hand, would you?"

"Huh?" Brady turned around and looked down at Mark. "What the hell happened?" he asked, stepping forward and lowering to his knees.

"I falled," he said in defeat. "Gravity hurt me."

"Shit, are you okay?" asked Brady, trying to help Mark to his feet.

"Yeah," replied Mark, planting his foot on the ground and pushing himself back up. "Would it kill 'em to put up a couple of lights around here?"

Brady looked up and down the street and smiled. "Well, this is the country, you know. Lights would just ruin it."

"Did we at least remember to bring a flashlight?" asked Mark, while dusting off his knees.

"Uh... no. I forgot about that. Maybe they'll have one at the store that doesn't cost too much. But I gotta warn you, when we get to the campsite there's going to be even less light."

"Nuh-uh. That's impossible. How can you have less light than no light?"

"Wow. You've obviously never been camping in Canada before, huh?" replied Brady with a smirk on his face.

"Hey! Are you mocking me?"

"No - I'm just... okay, maybe a little."

Mark lightly punched Brady on the shoulder. "Meanie."

After retrieving the roll-away sleeping bags Mark made sure to stay close to Brady, while carefully watching his step, and they silently walked toward town. As the sun slowly disappeared behind the trees, the sounds of the singing birds gradually faded into distant whispers. Darkness was quickly consuming the day, which made Mark feel incredibly insecure.

"Brady?"

"Yeah?"

Mark increased his pace so that he was walking beside Brady and then grabbed his hand. "Nothing."

The sudden contact made Brady's heart flutter. It was like the warmth from Mark's hand had triggered an electric charge to travel right up his arm and into his chest, causing his insides to short circuit. Brady involuntarily slowed down, like his mind wanted to ensure that this moment wasn't forgotten, and he gently squeezed Mark's hand. "Thanks," he said as a gentle smile stretched his lips.

It wasn't long before the dim, orange glow of lights could be seen illuminating a large, twenty-foot tall chicken that led to Chester's Grill. The moment Mark saw the sign he was reminded of how hungry he was, and he tightened his grip on Brady's hand and forced him to run with him.

"Ow-ow-ow, ow... ow," Mark said with every taken step.

Struggling to keep up with Mark's speed, Brady exhaled in a huff. "Dude, are you okay?"

"Yeah," replied Mark, beginning to lose his breath. "My legs just hurt, that's all."

"Did... you... cut yourself?" asked Brady, now finding it difficult to talk and breath at the same time.

"I... don't... know!" struggled Mark as they finally approached the parking lot. "They're open!" he shouted and stopped to catch his breath.

"Of course they're open. Nighttime is the best time to make money at a bar and grill," explained Brady.

"Bar?" Mark looked up at Brady. "Are we gonna be able to get in?"

"Yup. The entrance to the bar is different than the grill."

"Cool. I'm bloody starved," said Mark as he forced himself to stand upright. "Shall we?" he asked, holding out his arm.

Brady giggled and hooked his arm around Marks. "Yes," he replied with a nod, "we shall."

"Indubitably," nodded Mark, and they began to swing and sway toward the restaurant.

"Hey, Mark?"

"Yeah?

"What's 'indubitably' mean?"

Mark shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me, mate. I think it means something like 'without a doubt' or something... Did you bring a dictionary?"

"No... Why would I?"

"Then it doesn't matter," said Mark with a grin.

Brady opened the door for Mark and then followed him inside. As soon as they entered, the smell of barbecue sauce and grease seemed like it had coated their lungs with a thick layer of manly hair. Mark stared up at the ceiling then slowly scanned the room. All of the tables were booths, covered with bright orange vinyl fabric as thick as a cow's hide. Brady, however, didn't stop to admire the putrid colours, and instead headed straight for the counter.

"Mark?!" he shouted and waved him over. "What do you want to eat?"

Still studying the hideous room, Mark walked over to Brady and stood at his side. "Ummm," he started before looking at the large, overhead menu. "A burger is fine."

"What kind of burger?" asked Brady. "Cheese, double, bacon, chicken, buffalo..."

"Cheese works. Can we get fries with that?"

"Hi Miss," said Brady. "Can we get two cheeseburgers, a macho chili-cheese, and two milkshakes?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "Sure thing. What kind of milkshakes?"

"I'll have a chocolate. Mark? What about you?"

Mark turned back around from examining all of the animal heads that hung from the walls. "Um, I'll go chocolate, too."

"All-righty," said the woman. "That's a whoppin' fourteen eighty-six, and would you like that inside or to go?"

"Inside, please," replied Brady, handing the woman fifteen dollars.

"Just have a seat, and I'll bring it right over, hun."

"Thanks, Miss," said Brady as he turned around and tugged on Mark's shirt. "You coming?"

Mark nodded. "Uh-huh," he said and followed Brady to one of the booths. "This place is kinda creepy, isn't it?"

"A little bit, I guess," shrugged Brady, while looking around the room. "I never really thought about it before."

Soon tiring of studying his surroundings, Mark reached for the salt shaker and rolled it around in the palm of his hand. "So how far is this creek?"

"Ummm, only about fifteen minutes from here. We follow Main Street through town and the park is right there."

"A park?" said Mark. "Uh, I don't know if you realize this, but we don't exactly have the best luck with parks."

"No, dum-dumb. This isn't like the park back home. It's just a field that leads to a creek and a bunch of trees."

"Oh, okay." Mark put the salt down on the table. "Do you think anyone's noticed we've left yet?"

Brady shrugged and looked toward the counter, at a small black-bordered clock. "I dunno. It's just coming up to ten. Mom probably isn't even home yet."

"Oh... and my mum thinks I'm staying at your place - I think." Grabbing the salt shaker again, Mark became nervous. "What do you think they'll say when they realize we're gone?"

Brady shrugged again. "I dunno. I've never run away before, but..."

Mark cringed. "But what?" he asked. "Didn't I tell you before how much I hate your 'but's?"

"It's nothing. I just left my mom a note. That's all."

"A note? What did you say?"

"Everything," admitted Brady.

"Everything? What do you mean? Like everything?"

Sitting up in his seat, Brady nodded. "Yeah. I told her that your dad caught us, freaked out, and that I'm taking you camping."

"But you didn't tell he where, did you?"

"No. Of course not. I'm not a complete idiot. I just didn't want her to freak out."

"Ummm, well I doubt your note helped much," Mark pointed out.

"Yeah, probably not. But at least she knows that we weren't abducted or something," explained Brady, just as the waitress delivered their food.

"Here you are, fellas," said the woman from the register. "Can I get you anything else?"

Brady shook his head. "No Miss. Thank you."

The woman smiled at Brady, while placing a few napkins on the table. "Well, if you need anything just bellow. I'll be up at the front if you need me."

"Okay," said Brady, smiling nervously. "Thanks."

The second the woman turned around Mark attacked his meal. The first to go was the cheeseburger, followed by half of the milkshake. Brady, on the other hand, calmly picked at his fries, while watching in horror as Mark inhaled his food.

"Dude, you better slow down," warned Brady. "This stuff does weird things to your insides... It's like a sponge or something, and it turns into a super-sized brick once you're done, too."

In response, Mark stopped what he was doing and grabbed the salt shaker. "Who cares? I haven't eaten in ages."

"Okay - but don't say that I didn't warn you, later."

Mark finished his food, before Brady even took a bite of his burger, and sunk down in his chair. "Ugh," he groaned. "That's awful."

Brady giggled and took a small bite of his food. "I told you. Eating it is only half the adventure."

"Ohhh man. Bloody hell, mate." Mark leaned to the side and reached for the bottom of his shirt. "It feels like I'm going to burst," he explained as he lifted his shirt and patted his bare belly. "Or maybe I already burst from the inside, and now it's trying to find a way out."

"So..." placing his cheeseburger on his plate, Brady slid to the front of the booth. "You ready to go?"

Mark's eyes widened in dread. "What? For real?"

"Yeah. It's getting late, and the street lights turn out at midnight," explained Brady. "We're probably going to want a bit of light to set up the tent, you know?"

"For real? Well what the hell is the point in having lights if they're only on for a few hours?"

"I dunno," said Brady as he picked up his bags, "it probably has something to do with saving the environment and some money. There's not a lot of people around here, anyway."

"Ugh..." Mark slid off the edge of his seat, underneath the table. "Just leave me here. I'll be okay."

Brady laughed and lowered onto one knee. "Come on. It's not that bad. We'll have the tent set up and be ready for bed in like half-an-hour."

Slowly crawling out from under the table, Mark looked up at Brady. "Promise?"

"Promise," agreed Brady, while reaching down for Mark's hand to help him up.

Gathering their things, the boys thanked the waitress and left the restaurant. When they got outside the only lights that they could see were the ones that surrounded Chester's Grill. Beyond that was nothing but darkness. Mark looked over to Brady and grabbed his hand. "I'm not getting lost in that," he said just as Brady started walking forward.

Brady adjusted his grip on the tent's bag. "Yeah... I hope I don't, either."

"What?" asked Mark. "I thought you said you knew this place!"

"No I didn't. I said I've been here before. But that was usually in the day and in a car."

Mark squeezed Brady's hand and moved in closer as they stepped into the darkness. "We're so screwed."

At around ten-thirty at night, Brittany was woken up by a loud, continuous thumping that was coming from the front door. She sighed in frustration as she forced herself out of bed and put on a blue, cotton robe. It had taken her ages to finally fall asleep. Her mind wouldn't stop replaying the day's events with Mark and her husband, and now she was afraid she'd be up for the rest of the night.

Brittany groggily inched her way down the stairs to answer the door. However, about half-way down, her thoughts jumped from annoyed to panicked, and she suddenly became afraid that the knocking at the door could be someone bearing news of her son. With this in mind, her speed immediately increased, causing her light steps to turn into heavy stomps.

The moment Brittany reached the landing, forgetting to check the window first, she unlocked and opened the door. At first it didn't register who was there. The figure standing in front of her looked odd but familiar. However, Brittany couldn't quite tell, as sleep still seemed to be holding her vision hostage. Then, suddenly, the figure stepped forward and inside the house. In a fright, Brittany reached behind herself, hoping to find an umbrella or shovel. But before she could locate a weapon, the person in front of her began to take shape.

Natalie turned around in the hall, holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hand and frustrated at Brittany for standing their like an idiot. "Where is he!?" she yelled, her voice filled with grief. "What happened!?" she continued, not allowing Brittany a moment to try and explain.

"What's wrong, dear? Did something happen? Where's Mark?" asked Brittany in a single breath.

Natalie froze, dumbfounded at the woman's apparent ignorance. "They're here, aren't they? Brady's here? This is joke. Some kind of silly joke, right? They didn't really go. They wouldn't... Brady - he wouldn't."

Brittany's expression dropped from confused to nervous. "What are you talking about, Natalie? What's going on?"

Natalie held out her hand to reveal a crumpled piece of paper. "They ran away," she said, feeling her knees begin to buckle.

Brittany's eyes became wide and she grabbed the paper from Natalie's hand. "What are you talking about? I thought they were at your house."

"No," Natalie shook her head. "They took the tent and Brady took his money and they're gone," she tried to explain, while wiping the tears from her cheek. "What happened? Why did they go?"

Brittany didn't answer. As she read the note, she could feel her heart sinking further after every word. "I... I don't know. Mark's never done this before... He's never even been camping before." Brittany's face suddenly turned to a deep red and she stormed over to the basement door and swung it open. "PETER! You son-of-a-bitch! Get your ARSE UP HERE!"

After a little more than half-an-hour, Mark and Brady reached the other end of town, which was only lit by several small street lamps. No more than fifty feet in front of them was where the park began, but they couldn't see it. In unison, both boys tightened their grip on the other's hand.

"Dude?" whispered Mark.

"Yeah?"

"I don't suppose you have a match or something."

"Um, yeah, I do. But we need to save those so that we can start a fire," explained Brady. "We'll just have to walk slowly."

"But - we're already walking slowly. I'm tired," whined Mark.

"Yeah, me too. Hopefully we'll be able to find some dried branches and a few rocks... without falling into the creek."

Mark's eyes widened. "Oh shit..."

With extreme caution, the two slowly walked into the park. Every step they took away from town became just a little bit darker. Until, eventually, they could no longer see a thing. Mark's grip on Brady's hand had now become so tight that it was causing them both discomfort, but neither of them were willing to loosen their hold on the other.

"Brady?"

"Yeah?"

"How much further?" asked Mark, afraid to keep on walking forward.

"I have no idea," admitted Brady. "But we should be okay for a while, though. The ground is still flat."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There's a small hill somewhere in front of us... unless we turned, which means we might walk into a tree soon. But if we make it to the hill, the creek is just on the other side of it."

"Oh, okay. I guess a hill is better than a ditch or something," decided Mark.

"Well... True. But there is a ditch at one end of the park, just before the town, but I don't think we've turned that far - so we should be all right."

"Shit. Can you see anything?"

Brady giggled. "Nope. It's really freaken weird, huh?"

"I know!" replied Mark. "I've never been so scared in my life."

"Try looking up," suggested Brady.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Mark titled his head back and looked up at the sky. Far above him he could see thousands upon thousands of bright, twinkling stars. "Jesus..."

"Pretty cool, huh?"

"I've never seen so many," said Mark in astonishment. "It's brilliant."

"Yeah, I know. It's probably the best part about camping."

"It's really weird. I've never felt so small."

"And it beats that messed up feeling of emptiness when you're looking straight ahead, too. That's one of the creepiest things I can think of. It's like, you like it and hate it at the same time."

"What?" asked Mark in confusion. "The black?"

"Yeah... anyway. Look over there," Brady let go of Mark's hand and pointed up at the moon.

The very moment Brady released his hand, Mark became panicked and disorientated and wrapped his arms around Brady's torso. "GAH!" he screamed. "Don't do that!"

"What? Seriously, silly. Look at the moon. I've been following that big star to its left. Hopefully that will keep us moving in a straight line."

"Really?" asked Mark, loosening his arms. "That's actually pretty smart, I think."

"Gee, thanks," Brady said with a chuckle. "Do you have to sound so surprised?"

"No! That's not what I meant..."

Brady located Mark's hands and pried them off of his waist. "Give me your hand. We should try and get to the creek before the moon moves too much farther away."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm hoping it'll reflect off the water and give us a bit of light so we can make a small fire."

"Will that actually work?"

"I think so... but if not, our eyes should adjust a little more soon so we might be able to see a little better."

"Are you sure?"

"Not really. But I saw on TV that it takes around twenty minutes for our eyes to adjust to the dark."

"TV? What show was this?"

"Mythbusters," giggled Brady.

"Oh... what's that?"

"Seriously?" asked Brady. "How could you not have heard of Mythbusters?"

Suddenly, Mark's hand was torn away from Brady's, followed by a high-pitched yelp and a heavy thump. "Oww..." groaned Mark, as he slid his hands upward along the grass.

"Mark? Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh... I think I found the hill, and a gopher hole..." he replied in a muffled voice. "How come I'm the one who keeps falling? Aren't you supposed to be the klutzy one?"

Brady chuckled and carefully lowered himself to the ground. "Well, no. You're the athletic one, and this isn't really your scene, is it?"

"Apparently not."

"So are you all right?"

"Uh-huh, yup. At least I think I am. I mean, I can't exactly see if I'm bleeding or anything, but I'm not in any - horrible - pain."

"Hmm, maybe we should crawl over the hill. I can't remember how steep the other side is, or how far away the water is..." suggested Brady.

"Oh great. We're either gonna drown or break our necks," said Mark, while pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.

"Are you ready?" asked Brady, placing his hand on Mark's back.

"As much as I'm going to be, I guess."

Dragging their bags along the grass beside them, the boys carefully crawled up the hill, and within less than a minute they had reached the top and were attempting to feel for the safest route down. "Brady?"

"Yeah?"

"I think right here's our best bet."

"Right where?"

"Uh... how far from me are you?"

"Umm, a little farther than I thought I was," admitted Brady. "Hold on, I'm coming."

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere," replied Mark, still kneeling upright. "Ouch!"

"Haha, sorry," giggled Brady. "What was that?"

"Like you don't know!"

"How could I? It's black as hell out here."

"Nuh-uh. Not it's not. Hell has fire. This is worse," decided Mark, suddenly feeling another pinch on his behind. "Ow-hey! What the heck? You can see, can't you!"

"No..." Brady chuckled guiltily.

"Liar! There's no way that you just happened to find my ass before anything else - twice!"

"Okay, so I can see a little bit," admitted Brady. "But only because you're wearing those shiny shorts."

"Really?" Mark looked back at himself but couldn't see anything. "They're not that shiny, are they?"

"Apparently." Brady giggled and reached out his hand, giving Mark's behind a gentle tap. "Ooo, bouncy."

"What?" said Mark, trying to see behind himself. "Shut up! No it's not."

Brady slapped his hand several times in a row against Mark's right cheek. "Oh yes they are!"

"Hey! Cut it out!" demanded Mark, while attempting not to laugh. "That's not fair! We gotta set up the tent..."

"The tent can wait," replied Brady, now using a hand on either cheek and drumming away. "Any requests?"

"Cut it out, meanie!" Mark demanded and tried to crawl away.

"Hey now - where are you going!?" yelled Brady, reaching forward and grabbing Mark by the hips. "Get back here!"

"Hey!" Mark dropped down to the grass and rolled over. "You're the one that said we need to hurry!"

"Yeah... so?" said Brady, crawling over top of Mark.

"So... uh... what are you doing?" Mark asked, feeling Brady's presence above him.

"I'm just looking."

"Looking at what? It's pitch black out."

"I don't need to see you to look at you," said Brady as he lowered his head to where he hoped Mark was.

Mark felt Brady's lips touch the tip of his nose, causing him to giggle. "You missed," he said, while tilting back his head and reaching upward with his lips.

"I know," replied Brady, softly, and then kissed Mark's cheek. "I don't mind.

"Well... what if I do?"

"Then what are you going to do about it?" asked Brady, just before kissing Mark's chin.

"This." Mark let go of the sleeping bags to raise his arms up toward Brady and then wrapped them around his neck to pull him closer, until he could feel Brady's lips touching his own.

Brady lowered his body on top of Mark's, while sliding his forearms underneath his shoulders. As soon as he was comfortable, he raised his hand and ran his fingers through Mark's hair, feeling shivers crawl up his spine as they kissed. Mark's arms travelled from Brady's shoulders, following his hands down to the small of his back.

"Mmmm," hummed Mark. "Yeah, forget the tent."

Suddenly, Brady rolled off of Mark and crawled away. "Actually, let's get this done," he said.

"Hey!" whined Mark. "What? That's not fair!" Mark sat up, hearing Brady giggling in the near-distance. "Where'd you go?"

"I rolled down the hill; come on!" replied Brady. "I can see the creek - it's fine."

"But... I lost everything when you distracted me," explained Mark as he rolled onto his belly.

"It's okay. They're right beside you."

"Where?"

"One's like a foot to your left, and the other is right in front of you."

"But where's the backpack?"

Brady giggled and walked back toward the hill. "It's on your back, silly."

Feeling at his shoulders and locating the straps, Mark blushed and dropped his head. "So that's what that was..."

"So are you coming?" asked Brady. "There's a big branch near those trees over there. Hopefully it'll be dry enough to use for fire wood."

"This isn't fair," pouted Mark. "How come you can see and I can't?"

"Just come down here. Honest, it'll be okay."

Mark reached out to his left and located one of the sleeping bags, and carefully began to crawl forward. Sure enough, after only a few feet he found the second one and was able to shimmy down the hill. "I think this side's a bit steeper than the other one was."

"A bit, I guess," replied Brady, while trying to pull a branch out from the bushes.

"Do we have something to chop the wood up?"

"Yeah," said Brady, just before the bushes released the branch from their clutches, causing him to fall back and stumble to the ground. "Ugh... It's in my bag."

"What is?" asked Mark, as his eyes finally began to adjust. "Oh shit! I can see! ...a bit."

"There's a small axe; or hatchet, I guess you call it. It should be right next to the little pot."

"You brought a pot?"

"Yeah, of course. And a couple of metal cups, too. How else are we going to cook stuff?"

Mark shrugged and crawled over to the bag. "I dunno. Guess I just kinda thought we'd be making sandwiches and stuff. Oh! Hey, I think I found it!"

"Sweet," replied Brady with a smile. "Can you toss it over here?"

"Uh... no. How about I bring it to you?"

Toting the branch in behind him, Brady inched back toward their soon-to-be campsite. "Okay... Do you want to chop or look for some rocks?"

"Um... I'll look for rocks. I don't want to hack away at something when I can barely see a thing... where would I find them?"

"Right next to the creek, I believe. Try to get some big ones, though."

"Okay." Mark handed Brady the hatchet and tip-toed toward the creek, where he then crouched down to get a closer look. "Hey, Brady! There's loads of them here!"

"Really? How wet are they?" asked Brady, between swings at the branch.

"Uh... pretty wet. They're right in the water."

"That's okay, I guess. They'll dry off a bit while we get this wood sorted out."

Shortly after, Mark had positioned the rocks in a circle and helped Brady place the chopped pieces of wood in the centre. Fortunately when Brady had pulled the branch out from the bushes, it had dragged with it a generous amount of dried grass and leaves that they could use for tinder, which Brady had strategically placed in the form of a heaping mess underneath the wood.

"Are, um... are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked Mark, staring down at Brady as he retrieved a box of matches from his bag.

"Umm, mostly. My dad was usually the one to start the fire," he admitted. "I'm kind of wishing that I'd paid a bit more attention now, though."

"Well, on the bright side, if the fire gets out of control we're right next to the water."

"Nah, we'll be fine," said Brady as he struck a match along the side of the box. "Hold your breath," he warned.

Mark gasped and stepped back, watching the orange glow of the flame as it gently shimmered and swayed with the light breeze. The second Brady touched the fire to the tinder, it caught fire and started to produce a ton of smoke.

"Shit," said Mark, waving his hand back-and-forth in front of his face. "That stinks."

"Umm, crap." Brady dropped onto his knees and leaned toward the rapidly shrinking flame and began to lightly blow on it.

"Hey! What are you doing? You're going to put it out!" warned Mark.

"No I'm not," said Brady. "The smoke's suffocating the flame... can you grab me a shirt or something?"

"Uh... why?" asked Mark, stepping toward Brady's bag.

"I'm going to use it as a fan. The smoke's burning my eyes," he explained.

"Oh, okay." Mark quickly bent down and grabbed one of Brady's shirts, "here!" he warned and chucked it toward him.

Catching the shirt, Brady grabbed its shoulders and began lightly waving it at the smoke. Within less than a minute, the fire had spread and began catching the chopped wood. "There," declared Brady as he stood up and stepped away from growing flames. "We should be good to go now."

"Well that wasn't so bad," decided Mark. "Should we get the tent set-up now?"

Brady nodded and stepped toward where he had left it. "It shouldn't take long. All we need to do is connect the rods and slide them through the hoops," he explained, while he dumped the contests of the bag out onto the ground. "Grab a post."

Mark did as he was told and picked up a pile of plastic-like sticks that looked to be tied together by their ends, then waited to see what Brady did next.

"All you need to do," started Brady, holding the rods out in front of him, "is connect each end to the one it's tied to. They slide right in. Then we just push them through the hoops on the outside of the tent."

"Oh, okay. Well that looks simple enough," decided Mark. I thought we were gonna have to tie things to trees and pound stakes into the ground and stuff."

"The stakes are metal, so we just have to poke them through the hooks and push them into the ground with our feet."

After hitting himself only twice with the rod, Mark managed to get the thing assembled. Following this, the two boys laid the tent out and pushed the nine metal stakes into the ground, to hold it in place. Finally, following Brady's lead, Mark slid the rod through a long sheath-like sleeve, which secured the rod's position and eventually held the tent upright.

"Well, damn. That was a hell of a lot easier than I thought it would be," Mark said happily.

"Yeah, no kidding," replied Brady, looking back at the fire. "It's too bad we don't have any marshmallows with us. That would have been perfect."

"Meh," shrugged Mark. "I'd settle for some water."

"Darn... I knew we were forgetting something."

Mark grabbed the sleeping bags and tossed them inside the tent. "Well, no use crying about it now," he said, stepping to the side of the tent and holding the entrance open. "Shall we?"

Brady smiled and walked to his bag and zipped it up. "Good idea. I'm about ready to die."

"Hey! No dying!" Mark scolded. "Now get your ass in there!"

"Okay, okay; I'm coming," chuckled Brady, as he crawled inside the tent...