by C. L. Taylor
‘But what if it’s not an official booking,’ Milo says. ‘What if it’s randoms on a day trip? Or locals? Fishermen or something?’
‘Nah,’ Jefferson says. ‘The owner has prosecuted trespassers before and no one wants to end up in a Thai jail. Besides, why would someone local or a fisherman cut the cord on our boat?’
‘To freak us out? Maybe it’s a message they want us to pass on when we get back – if we get back – stay away from this island or bad shit will happen.’
‘Oh God.’ Honor presses her hands over her face and leans into Danny’s shoulder.
‘Guys,’ he says, ‘can we change the subject? You’re freaking her out.’
There’s a beat as no one speaks. Meg takes a swig of her water and sets it back on the sand, then looks at each of us in turn.
‘I think it’s more likely that one of you guys did it.’
Milo swings round to look at her. ‘What?’
She doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead she focuses on Danny. ‘You didn’t want Honor to leave. You said so last night, we all heard you. You heard him, didn’t you, Jess?’
Of course I remember but it’s a bit of a stretch, imagining that he would cut the cord on the boat and leave us all stranded here. Although I’m not sure I like the alternative much – that there’s someone else on the island with a vendetta.
‘I don’t know, Meg,’ I say vaguely. ‘I can’t really remember.’
Her face hardens. ‘No, that’s fine,’ she says. ‘You sit on the fence. But you heard him, didn’t you, Jefferson? He definitely said she wasn’t going anywhere.’
‘You did say that,’ Jeffers looks at Danny.
‘Whoa! Whoa!’ Danny holds up his hands, palms out. ‘Careful who you’re accusing, buddy. You’re the only one with a knife.’
‘Me?’ Jefferson’s jaw drops. ‘You don’t honestly think—’
‘It’s your survival week. Maybe you wanted to add a bit of edge to the experience? See how we all coped when we’re really stranded?’
‘Jess was the last one up.’ Honor points at me. ‘Did you see anything?’
‘Or maybe you did it,’ Danny says before I can answer. ‘Is that why you stayed up so late? Were you waiting for us all to fall asleep so you could creep down to the boat?’
I look from him to Honor and shake my head. This is ridiculous! Anuman is dead, we’re stranded and they’re arguing about who cut the starter cord? I look at Jefferson but he shrugs and raises his eyes to the sky. He looks as exasperated as I feel.
‘What does it matter who cut the starter cord?’ I ask. ‘If it was even cut. We’ve got more important—’
‘See,’ Danny says. ‘She’s changing the subject. Obviously guilty.’
I stare at him. ‘What possible motivation would I have for stranding us here?’
‘Who knows how your mind works? The other night you nearly broke someone’s hand with a chair leg!’
‘To help Honor out. For God’s sake, Danny. Would you listen to yourself? There’s a dead man over there,’ I point across the beach to the boat, ‘who’s never going to see his family again and you’re… you’re…’ I scrabble to my feet and walk away from the group, hands crossed over my body, gripping my arms, the sand hot and scratchy against the soles of my feet.
‘Jess.’ Milo is behind me and touches me lightly in the centre of my back, making me jump. ‘Are you OK?’
‘No, not really.’
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with everyone.’
‘They’re scared. I get it. It’s not every day you see someone… someone…’ I can’t finish my sentence and Milo puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a hug. My cheek rests just beneath his collar bone and I can smell the suntan lotion and salt on his warm skin. My hands rest lightly on his back but I can’t bring myself to close my eyes and lose myself in the hug. My muscles are tensed, my mind is racing and I can hear Meg and Jefferson’s raised voices drifting over from the fire. They’re arguing about what we should do now. Meg thinks we should sit it out while Jeffers thinks we need to get help.
‘You know I didn’t do it, don’t you?’ I pull away from Milo. ‘I didn’t cut the cord.’
‘Of course you didn’t.’ His eyes search mine. ‘But someone did. I saw the end of the cord. It didn’t just snap off.’
‘But why? Who’d want to leave us marooned here? Danny can be an idiot but he’s not that stupid. And I don’t buy that Jeffers would do it.’
‘You think there’s someone else here?’
‘There could be. This island’s massive. For all we know the owner could have rented the other side out to another group and we wouldn’t have a clue. The owner pockets twice the cash and each group thinks they’ve got the place all to themselves.’
‘But why would they sneak across the island and damage our boat?’
‘For a laugh? Maybe they were pissed?’
‘We can barely get through the jungle sober, never mind drunk.’
‘Maybe they used a boat?’
‘We’d have heard it and woken up.’
‘Locals then? Fishermen? Someone who’s pissed off with the fact it’s a private island.’
I shake my head. ‘That doesn’t make sense either. Why would they cut the cord? It doesn’t get rid of us, it keeps us here.’
‘Maybe that’s what they want? To teach us a lesson.’
I shiver as I stare at the thick throng of palms, bamboo and mango trees gently swaying in the wind. The idea that there might be someone in there right now, watching us, is terrifying.
‘What do you think we should do?’
I break off as Jeffers speeds past us then launches himself into the water and starts swimming out to sea.
I look back at Milo. ‘He’s not trying to swim back to the mainland, is he?’
‘He wouldn’t be that stupid.’
We run back to the others. Danny has his arm around Honor, who’s sobbing uncontrollably, and Meg’s staring out to sea with her arms crossed over her chest.
‘He wouldn’t listen!’ she says irritably. ‘It took us over an hour to get here by boat. He’d have to swim for hours to reach the mainland. And he’s not even that strong a swimmer.’
I shield my eyes from the glaring sun and follow her gaze. It can’t be much after seven o’clock in the morning and it’s already swelteringly hot. The sea’s calm but there’s a strong tide. Jeffers has only been in the water for a couple of minutes but he’s already slowing down and his technique’s terrible. He’s craning his neck out of the water instead of breathing out below the surface and coming up for a breath every three strokes. There’s no way he can keep that up all the way to the mainland.
‘Jeffers!’ I cup my hands around my mouth as I walk towards the shore. ‘Jeffers, come back!’
Milo starts to shout too, so does Meg, but if Jefferson hears us he doesn’t respond. Instead he continues to splish and splash through the water, his T-shirt billowing out around him like a big green life vest.
‘We’re better off trying to fashion oars out of some wood,’ Danny says, Honor’s face still nestled into his neck. ‘Row the boat, and Anuman, back to the mainland.’
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ Milo says begrudgingly but I shake my head.
‘I don’t think we should risk it. There are some pretty strong currents between here and the coast. If we get into difficulty and get swept off course we’d be in real trouble.’
‘Since when were you Captain Ahab?’ Meg snaps.
‘Who?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Moby Dick?’
I’m about to snap back that I used to go sailing with the swimming club but I’m interrupted by Milo shouting and pointing out to sea. Jefferson has stopped swimming and is flailing around in the water, one arm raised.
‘He’s in trouble!’
I react instinctively, pulling off my linen top and trousers. As I run into the water I can hear the others shouting and calling my name but I don’t stop and I d
on’t look back. I run until the sea is waist high then launch myself forwards and, head down, pull my arms through the water. It’s like coming home, being in the water again, and I feel strong and powerful as I plough towards Jeffers. When I reach him he grabs at me frantically, wrapping his arms around my neck as though I’m a life buoy. We sink instantly, and my world turns a hazy shade of blue and green as I fight to break his grip. He’s scared, and much stronger than he looks. No sooner do I loosen one of his arms, he tightens his hold with the other. My lungs burn as his pale, drawn face looms closer then drifts away as we wrestle underwater. I can’t hold my breath for much longer. If I don’t get away from him soon he’s going to drown us both. I lift my knee to fill the space between our bodies then, leaning back as far as his grip will allow, push as hard as I can. His grip loosens around my neck and I kick my legs frantically, head craned towards the surface. I gulp air into my lungs but I don’t tread water for long. Jefferson’s still under the water, his body starfishing – arms and legs spread as he sinks towards the seabed – a metre or so below me. I take a deep breath and dive back into the water. I hook my hand under his chin and frantically kick my legs but he’s a dead weight, and we’re barely moving. Fear so powerful it’s paralysing flows through me. We’re both going to die. This is it. This is how our lives end. We’re seventeen and we’ve barely lived. When the others go back to the mainland they’ll have to tell our parents that their children are dead. Oh God, Mum and Dad. They’d have to mourn a second child.
Fear morphs into rage and I kick harder, reaching through the water with my free hand. I won’t let the sea beat me. No one’s going to die.
I hear the scream of a gull as my head breaks through the water. I choke back air, gulping and panting, my lungs burning and my limbs aching. I lean back, kicking hard with my legs, pulling Jefferson’s head up and out of the water, my hand still clasped around his jaw. But his lips don’t part and his eyes don’t open and his weighty body remains below the surface of the water. He’s not floating because his lungs have filled with water. Adrenaline and rage course through me and a silent chant fills my head: get back to the beach, get back to the beach. I stare up into the cloudless azure sky and it is as though time has stopped. It’s just me, floating in the ocean, utterly alone in the world. And then I hear raised voices and bodies splashing through the water. Before I can turn to look round, strong hands hook me under the armpits and drag me through the sea, my heels catching in the rough sand. I try to speak, to shout for them to help Jefferson rather than me, but my voice has disappeared, replaced by a seal-like bark each time I inhale.
Chapter 8
DANNY
The relief Danny feels when Jefferson coughs violently and spews sea water onto the sand is overwhelming. He thought his friend was dead when he dragged him out of the water. Jefferson’s head was lolling to one side and his eyes were closed. After Danny laid him on the sand he felt for his pulse, fumbling inexperienced fingers over his friend’s wrist, and promptly recoiled when he found nothing but cold, slippery skin. Meg took over then, pushing Danny out of the way. She heaved Jefferson onto his back, clasped her fingers together and had just lowered her hands to his chest to start CPR when he lurched onto his side and began to cough.
Unlike Jefferson, who’s still lying on the sand, Jessie is in a sitting position. She’s further down the beach with Milo and she’s trying to talk, but each time she opens her mouth she makes a weird rasping noise. Danny’s eyes meet Milo’s. They stare at each other – wordlessly sharing the horror of what they just witnessed.
Danny hadn’t even realized that Jeffers had got into trouble. He was whispering in Honor’s ear, reassuring her that everything was going to be OK, when Jessie suddenly stripped off her clothes and ran into the sea. She was a good swimmer. As kids she’d always win the races they held in various hotel pools, but she ploughed through the sea towards Jeffers like a woman on a mission. When she reached him Danny felt himself relax – everyone was going to be OK – but when they both disappeared under the surface of the water he felt as though he was trapped in a nightmare or a horror film.
He jumped to his feet and ran to the shoreline with the others and stared impotently out to sea, not knowing what to do. When Milo charged into the water Danny did the same. They half ran, half swam, side by side, to where Jessie was sculling through the water on her back, her hand cupped under Jefferson’s chin. The water was shallow but she was too exhausted to stand. Milo dragged her to the shore while Danny did the same for Jefferson.
Now, as Jessie makes her way down the beach towards them, supported by Milo, hot tears fill Danny’s eyes. She could have died. Her and Jefferson. Instinctively he reaches for Honor’s hand but there’s no one beside him.
He turns sharply and looks round, expecting to see her slim frame hovering uncertainly behind him. But she’s not there. He spins around on the sand and scans the beach and the shoreline, but there’s no sign of his girlfriend.
‘Meg, have you seen Honor?’
She looks up, her dark head bent over Jeffers. ‘Nope.’
‘But she—’
He looks back towards the shelters and the jungle beyond them. Logically he knows she can’t have gone far. She probably walked to the stream to have a cry in private, or found somewhere out of sight to have a wee; but his mind is still on high alert and he can’t bear the thought of anything happening to her. They all need to stay together. They’re safer that way.
‘Is he OK?’ Jessie crouches down on the sand beside Meg and Jeffers. She’s stopped making that strange rasping noise but her voice is as thick as sandpaper. She sounds like a forty-a-day smoker.
‘He’ll be fine.’ Meg smiles up at her. ‘Won’t you, Jeffers?’
Jefferson struggles to sit up, batting away Meg’s hands as she tries to stop him. ‘You saved my life, Jess. I thought I was dead.’
Jessie says nothing, instead she stares at him with the strangest expression on her face. Up close Danny can see the scars she’s been trying to hide all holiday. The skin on her hands is lumpen and shiny and the burns twist up her wrists and arms to her neck like thick red snakes. She flinches, as though sensing his eyes on her body, and shrinks away from Milo so the arm he has around her shoulders falls away.
‘You nearly killed me,’ she snaps at Jefferson. ‘The next time you do something idiotic try not to drown the person who’s saving you. OK?’
Danny’s shocked but says nothing. Neither do any of the others, and when Jessie announces that she’s going back to camp to get some dry clothes, the only sound is the sharp cry of gulls circling overhead. As she disappears into the shelter Milo crouches down beside Jefferson.
‘She didn’t mean that. She’s still in shock.’
‘No, I deserved it.’ Jeffers peels off his wet T-shirt and rests his arms on his knees. ‘There’s no way I could have swum all the way to the mainland, even if I hadn’t got cramp in my leg.’
‘And there was me thinking Action Man was invincible.’
‘None of us are,’ Meg says grimly. ‘We need to remember that.’
Back at the camp, while everyone apart from Jessie – who’s lying in the shelter with her eyes closed – congregates around the fire, Danny rummages in his rucksack for his bottle of water.
‘Where are you off to?’ Milo asks as he heads towards the jungle.
‘Gonna look for Honor.’
‘But she’s—’ Milo glances around, startled, as though he’s only just realized she’s missing. ‘Oh. Where is she?’
Meg shakes her head. ‘I haven’t seen her for a while.’
‘Want me to help you look?’ Milo asks Danny.
‘No, no. I’m sure she’s just gone to get water.’ Danny fights to keep his tone light. A new, unsettling thought had hit him as they walked back to the shelter. What if Honor hadn’t run off because she was upset about Jessie and Jefferson getting into trouble in the sea? What if she just wanted to get away from him? Last night she’d screamed at h
im that she was sick of him accusing her of flirting with Milo and wanted to leave. And now she’s stuck on the island with him for the rest of the week.
Danny heads for the waterfall first, certain Honor won’t have ventured far into the jungle – not with her fear of spiders – but the only visitors to the waterfall are a couple of macaque monkeys who take one look at him, whoop with fear and leap into the trees and disappear. He heads left, along the rough path Anuman created by chopping at the plants and bushes with his machete when they had been looking for trees to fell.
Anuman.
Just thinking about his guide makes Danny’s stomach clench. It was terrifying how quickly death had claimed him. One second he was walking out of the jungle with an armful of fruit, and the next he was staring at Danny with fear in his eyes as the stroke dragged at his face and twisted his lips. Had he known what was coming? Was he afraid? Danny stops in his tracks as his own mortality hits him full force. He doesn’t believe in heaven or an afterlife. Death is final, a full stop. It’s eternal darkness, nothingness, a void. When he was six years old he was told that his grandfather had died after he’d fallen into a deep sleep and never woke up. Years later Danny was told that his grandfather had suffered from heart failure and fallen into a coma, but Little Danny didn’t know that. He became too scared to fall asleep in case death claimed him too. He spent night after sleepless night trying to imagine how it felt to no longer exist, winding himself up so much his breath would catch in his throat and he’d sit up in bed, gulping in air.
Just remembering it makes his chest tighten and he rests a hand against a tree, fighting to take a deep, steadying breath as sweat beads on his forehead and rolls down his face.
I’m not going to die, he tells himself. It’s just a panic attack. It’s just a panic attack.
Movement in the corner of his eye makes him jump, but it’s just a large brown lizard, tongue extended, scuttling out of his way. The distraction, and flood of adrenaline, snaps him out of his negative spiral and he heads off again, focusing on the surrounding objects, saying their names aloud to stop the dark thoughts from creeping back in again.
