“I hope this isn’t one of those survivor moments where you drive off and leave me alone on this hill for twenty-one days to see how long I can survive without food and water,” I shouted after him.
“Leave you, never in a million years,” he called back a hint of laughter in his voice.
A few moments later, Ben returned with firewood. He knelt down just outside the tent and began laying the wood on the ground like a Boy Scout building a fire pit. Ben placed each piece of wood with a purpose like he had a specific position for each one mapped out in his head. Then he pulled a few sheets of paper from his coat pocket and crumpled them up into separate balls and placed them under the wood. Finally, he took out a box of matches from his pocket and lit the paper. The paper quickly burned,
