CHAPTER EIGHT
"Admit it, Jack. You have no idea where we're going."
"I do."
"No, you don't."
"If you'd just zip it for one minute, I might be able to know for sure where we're going," he snapped.
I frowned, even though I was satisfied that he had unconsciously admitted that he was lost. "Ah, so you admit that you don't know where we're going."
"Just shut up."
"Right after you tell me that we're lost and you don't know which way to go." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.
He sighed in exasperation and rubbed his face. "I came through here when I left you at the spring. I know where we're headed."
"Oh, really? Well, what happened to the "might" before?"
"I shoved it in the spring."
"Well, then I brought it back out and shoved it in your face!" I shot back, even tho
