1 My girlfriend’s idea was as reckless as it was "extreme." She called it a "limit-testing survival trek"—no water, no food, just our own grit against the mountain. The rest of the group jumped at the chance, their faces lit with the kind of adrenaline only the sheltered can afford. I hesitated, my gut twisting, until Tyler clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Miller. Where’s your sense of adventure? Do it for us. What do you say?" Sydney, my girlfriend, didn’t even bother to hide her annoyance. Her voice was sharp, a jagged edge in the morning air. "Grant, why are you always the one to kill the vibe?" So, I caved. I always caved back then. On the day of the hike, Sydney insisted we lock our phones in a locker at the trailhead. "To prevent anyone from cheating with Apple Pay," she’d said, eyes gleaming with a manic sort of purity. But later, when our throats were screaming for moisture and the sun was a hammer against our skulls, they all pulled out crumpled wads of cash. Every single one of them. They bought ice-cold bottles of water and sandwiches at the mid-way supply station while I stood there, parched and confused. When I asked how they could do it, Sydney just looked at me with a sneer that made my blood run cold. "We said we wouldn’t bring supplies, Grant. We never said we couldn’t buy them. If your brain is too slow to figure that out, that’s on you." I collapsed from dehydration a mile later. They didn't give me a single drop. They didn't even call for help. They just stepped over my body and kept walking. "You need to feel the pain to learn the lesson," Sydney had whispered, her voice devoid of mercy. "We’re doing this for your own good." By the time a park ranger found me, my skin was a map of third-degree burns. My left arm was so badly charred from lying on the sun-baked rock that the surgeons had to take it at the elbow. But then, I opened my eyes. And I was back. Back to the day they first proposed the "survival hike." This time, I didn't hesitate. I looked Sydney in the eye and smiled. "Sure. I’m in." If they wanted a lesson in suffering, I was more than happy to be the teacher. After all, it was for their own good, wasn't it? As soon as the words left my mouth, Tyler Hudson—my "best friend"—gave me a look of mock concern. "Now remember, Grant, no food, no water. Total self-reliance. We’re all responsible for our own survival out there." I looked at him, feigning confusion. "Self-reliance? But none of us are bringing anything, right? Even if I wanted to ask for help, nobody would have anything to give." The moment the words hit the air, Sydney, her brother Mason Blackwood, and her best friend Becca Reed all burst into laughter. They nodded frantically, exchanging looks I now understood with sickening clarity. "Exactly! See, Tyler? Grant’s way ahead of you. He doesn't need your reminders." Tyler gave me a smile that didn't reach his eyes—a dark, knowing thing. "Right. My mistake." Sydney pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. "Since we’re all in, sign this." It was the same liability waiver from the first time. A "Gentleman’s Agreement," they called it. It stated that as a competent adult, I took full legal responsibility for my own safety. Back then, I’d been confused. It’s just a hike, Sydney. Why the legal drama? But they’d pressured me until I signed my life away. Now, I looked at the familiar lines of text and gently pushed the paper back toward her. Sydney’s expression soured instantly. "What? Are you backing out already?" I raised an eyebrow, my voice calm. "Not at all. But if the five of us are doing this as a group, shouldn't everyone sign? Everyone gets a copy. Your safety is your responsibility, and mine is mine. I shouldn’t be held liable if one of you trips and falls." Becca laughed, a shrill, mocking sound. "We’re going to be perfectly fine, Grant. You should worry about yourself." I tilted my head, studying her. "You sound so confident. It’s almost like you have a secret way to cheat that you haven't told me about." The laughter died. Panic flitted across their faces like a shadow. Becca’s mouth stayed open, but no sound came out. Sydney shot her a warning glare. "Grant has a point," Sydney said, her voice tight. "It’s a group activity. We should all sign." Mason ran to a nearby print shop and returned with four more copies. Sydney, Mason, Tyler, and Becca all signed their names with a flourish. I tucked a signed copy into my backpack and turned to leave. "Eat up and hydrate tonight, buddy," Tyler called out, his voice dripping with false camaraderie. "You won't be tasting a drop of anything tomorrow." I nodded. "Thanks. You guys do the same." The sound of their collective snickering followed me all the way to my car. In my previous life, the day of the hike was a furnace—104 degrees in the shade. The sun didn't just shine; it punished. My throat had felt like it was lined with sandpaper, and every swallow felt like a blade. When we hit the supply station, they had turned their backs on me to buy Gatorade and sandwiches. "I thought the rule was no food or drink?" I had gasped, my vision blurring. Tyler had just smirked. "We said we wouldn't bring anything. We never said we wouldn't eat." "But our phones... we locked them up," I’d stuttered. And then, like a choreographed magic trick, they pulled out their wallets. "Cash, Grant. Did you seriously not bring cash? Man, I guess you’ll just have to watch us." I’d thought it was a joke. A cruel, hazing-style prank. Until Sydney walked over to me, unscrewed a cap, and held the bottle to my lips. When I reached for it, she yanked it away, her face a mask of mockery. "You didn't actually think I'd let you cheat, did you? We made a deal. Self-reliance, remember?" The betrayal had hurt more than the thirst. When I tried to ask the shop owner for help, they literally dragged me out of the store. When the owner looked suspicious, Sydney threw her arms around me, muffling my mouth with a fake, loving embrace. Tyler had waved at the owner, his voice like honey. "He’s just being a drama queen! We’re messing with him—I bought two bottles, see?" He shoved a bottle into my hand, and the owner, satisfied, went back inside. As soon as we were around the bend, Sydney ripped the bottle from my hand and poured the water onto the dusty earth. "You said you'd do it on your own. Don't be a cheater." I had lunged for the bottle, but only caught the empty plastic. Their laughter rang in my ears as the heat began to melt my consciousness. I took a deep breath, forcing the memory back into the dark. I opened my laptop and went to a forum I’d bookmarked—a place where people did things for the right price. I sent an anonymous message. [Need four wallets lifted. Can you do it?] The reply was instant. [Five grand. Half now, half when it’s done. Give me the time and place.] After the arrangements were made, I checked our group chat. Sydney and the others were posting "hype" emojis about tomorrow. I smiled to myself and typed: I’m really looking forward to this. The chat exploded with laughing emojis. I silenced my phone, packed a hidden wad of cash in my sock, and went to sleep. The next morning, we met at the trailhead of Black Ridge—a brutal, isolated path that saw more vultures than hikers. At the locker, Sydney pulled out her phone and waved it like a trophy. "Phones in the locker, everyone. We don't want anyone tempted to use Apple Pay when the going gets tough!" Tyler laughed, tossing his phone in. "I wonder who’s going to crack first. Not me." Mason and Becca followed suit, grinning like kids in on a secret. Behind them, a man in a nondescript baseball cap moved through the small crowd near the trailhead. I stepped up to Sydney and handed over my phone. While everyone was focused on my "compliance," the man in the cap brushed past them. His hands moved with the practiced fluidness of a shadow. Sydney didn't feel a thing. She locked the door and smiled at me. "I thought you might put up a fight." I shrugged. "I’m a man of my word." We started the ascent. Tyler raised his voice, loud enough for the trees to hear. "Man, it’s getting hot already. What if someone gets thirsty?" Mason chuckled. "Don't worry, Tyler. Some of us are prepared for anything." I looked at them, my expression innocent. "Prepared? I thought the whole point was that we brought nothing." Mason took a patronizing tone. "What we’re prepared with is none of your business, Grant. It’s survival of the fittest out here. Everyone for themselves." Sydney added, her voice cold as ice, "Exactly. This is a personal test. I’m not helping you today, Grant. No matter what happens, don't try to guilt-trip me just because I’m your girlfriend." In my last life, she’d said those exact words. And she’d meant them. She’d walked right past my unconscious body. Stop acting, she’d said then. Your acting is terrible. I told you, no water. I’m doing this to build your character. I pulled myself back to the present and nodded seriously. "You're right, Sydney. And I won't help you, either. No matter what happens, don't try to use our relationship to guilt-trip me." Sydney threw her head back and laughed. "Me? Needing your help? Focus on surviving the next hour, Grant." Mason and Becca joined in, their laughter echoing off the canyon walls. As we climbed, the sun moved into its zenith, a white-hot eye staring us down. My throat began to constrict, the air feeling like fire in my lungs. Sydney, leading the pack, pointed ahead. "Look! The supply station!" Tyler and Mason cheered. "Finally! My throat is killing me." I looked at them, feigning bewilderment. "So what? I thought the challenge was to climb without food or drink?" Becca rolled her eyes. "Grant, are you deaf? We said we wouldn't bring supplies. We never said we couldn't buy them at the station." My voice went even more confused. "But our phones are at the bottom. How are you going to buy anything?" Tyler smirked. "I guess some people just don't know how to plan ahead." They shared a look of triumph as Sydney stepped onto the porch of the small wooden shack. I followed them inside. The smell of air conditioning and cold sugar was intoxicating. They went straight for the coolers. "What are you doing?" I asked, standing in the center of the shop. "You don't have your phones." Sydney pulled a face. "Who needs a phone when you have cash?" Tyler grinned at me, tapping his pocket. "We all brought cash, Grant. It’s called being prepared. Man... you look like you’re dying. You didn't bring any, did you? Sydney, can I buy him a water?" Sydney’s eyes went hard. "A rule is a rule, Tyler. Are you trying to help him cheat?" Tyler shrugged at me. "Sorry, buddy. Looks like you’re just going to have to watch us." I turned to Sydney. "Isn't buying things a violation? That’s why we locked the phones away, right?" They answered in unison, their voices dripping with contempt. "Who said buying is a violation? We said digital payments were the violation! This is a test of survival without technology. If you had cash, you could buy something too. Nobody’s stopping you." Mason sighed, shaking his head. "Sydney, your boyfriend is a total moron. He has zero adaptability." Sydney grabbed a bottle of Fuji water and waved it in front of my face. "Since you didn't bring money, you’re just going to have to stay thirsty. Don't look at me for help. We’re on our own." I nodded slowly and sat down on a wooden bench. "On our own. I can live with that." They laughed, turning their backs on me. Tyler leaned into Sydney, his voice a stage whisper. "Watch. In five minutes, he’s going to be on his knees begging us. 'Sydney, baby, please, I’m your boyfriend...' it’s going to be pathetic." Sydney made a gagging sound. "Ugh, I can’t stand it when he acts weak. If he begs, I’m ignoring him." "And me? What am I, a saint? I’m not giving him a drop," Tyler added. I watched them walk to the counter, their faces glowing with smug satisfaction. "Separate checks, please," Sydney told the owner. "We’re all about self-reliance today. No cheating." They glanced back at me one last time, their hands diving into their pockets. Sydney’s hand fumbled. Her expression shifted from triumph to confusion. She patted her other pocket. Then her back pockets. Her face went pale. "My money... where is it?" She turned her pockets inside out. Nothing but a crumpled tissue. Mason rolled his eyes. "For God's sake, Syd. You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached. Fine, I’ll cover you." He looked at me, a cruel glint in his eye. "She’s family, so it doesn't count as cheating." He reached into his pocket. His hand froze. His jaw dropped. "What the..." Tyler and Becca started franticly patting themselves down. High-pitched gasps filled the small shop. "My wallet! It’s gone!" "Mine too! Everything’s gone!" I sat there, chin in my hand, watching the panic set in. In my last life, they had looked so powerful when they pulled out that cash. In this life, they looked like cornered animals. As their expressions twisted into masks of desperation, I stood up. I walked to the shelf, picked up a cold bottle of water and a protein bar, and walked to the counter. Under their stunned gazes, I reached into my sock, pulled out a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to the owner. "Keep the change," I said.
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