In the wilds of Alaska, one might prefer to be discovered early on, for the longer the hunt continues, the scarier it gets. Alone with your thoughts in pitch-black, unfamiliar terrain, you can only hope and pray you won’t get left behind. This far from civilization, there was a distinct possibility that once hidden, you’d be lost forever. In my case, there was no way I was going to venture more than twenty yards from the bonfire. I didn’t want to run the risk of running into a pack of wolves, or worse still, a beast with two backs. Everyone knew the real allure of flashlight tag was getting to sneak private time for activities that would make even our disturbingly frank health teacher, Miss Scruggins, blush. I waited for everyone else to scatter up the banks of the river and into the woods before I shuffled across the ice to wait out the game in Craig’s Jeep. In his backseat, I burrowed under the flannel blanket he kept there for emergencies. It was scratchy and smelled alternately of men’s cologne and wet dog.
