by C. L. Taylor
Honor shrugs. ‘Possibly. Like I said, he did say it was a good place for a camp. Or we could leave him a note.’
‘Too risky,’ Meg says. ‘Anyway, Jeffers knows how to follow tracks. He’ll work out where we’ve gone. Let’s do it.’
‘Just pack the essentials,’ Meg hisses as Milo and Honor scurry around our messy camp, grabbing up discarded flip-flops, water containers, bottles of sunscreen and items of clothing. Most of my stuff is piled up beside my rucksack in the corner of the shelter but I can’t bring myself to grab it. All I can do is stand and watch as the others buzz like flies. There’s one part of my mind screaming that I need to move, to flee, and another part that’s running through what just happened to me, like a film played at triple speed. I’ve never felt as vulnerable or as violated as I did being carried through the jungle like a piece of meat. Now I’m back with the others and shock has worn off, my emotions are morphing – vulnerability has been replaced by rage, and violation by a desire for revenge. I don’t want to run from Jack and Josh. I want to find the sharpest, pointiest, deadliest weapon and run it straight through them. As I stare into the jungle, anger roiling in my belly, the others chat among themselves.
‘What do we do about food?’ Honor asks. ‘We’ve stockpiled loads of coconuts.’
‘We’ll worry about that later,’ Milo says as he hoists his rucksack onto his back then hefts Meg’s rucksack into his arms. ‘We need to get this stuff shifted.’
She reaches for it. ‘I’ll take that.’
‘No. We’ll take it in turns.’
‘Do you think we’re doing the right thing?’ There’s uncertainty in Honor’s voice. ‘Maybe we should all go and look for them. If we find Danny and Jeffers it’ll be six against two.’
‘Jessie said they’ve got a knife,’ Milo says.
‘We can overpower them,’ Meg says. ‘Like Honor said, it’ll be six against two then we grab the keys to the boat and we get the hell out of here.’
‘You’re assuming we’ll find Danny and Jeffers before we run into them,’ Milo says. ‘What if they hurt one of you guys before we overpower them? What if someone gets knifed and they take off in the boat? Jefferson’s little first-aid kit isn’t going to do shit.’
‘We need weapons so we’re not going in unarmed.’ Meg looks around the camp. ‘Where are the axes?’
I share a look with Milo. ‘Jeffers has got them,’ I say. ‘They’re in his camp.’
‘I’ll go and get them,’ Honor says. ‘I can get there and back in five minutes.’
‘No!’ Milo and I say simultaneously.
‘And why is that?’ Honor raises an eyebrow. ‘Because I’m female? You can stick that sexism right up your arse, Milo.’
This is the Honor we all knew and loved before she and Danny got together.
‘You can’t go alone,’ I say. ‘It’s not safe. They nearly got me into their boat. I wouldn’t have got away if Danny and Jeffers hadn’t distracted them.’
‘Then I’ll go with her.’ Meg moves to stand beside Honor. ‘We’ll get the axes and meet you two back here.’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘We’re not splitting up. If one of us goes we all go.’
We creep along the beach, staying close to the jungle and make our way to Jefferson’s camp. As we leave the beach and edge through the trees every snapped twig makes me turn sharply, every whoop and warble makes me freeze.
‘Are you OK?’ Honor mouths as we silently pick our way through the undergrowth. I nod but it’s taking every ounce of courage to keep walking. Now I’m back in the jungle where I was attacked my rage has deserted me.
‘Crap,’ Meg breathes as we draw closer to Jefferson’s camp. ‘They’ve trashed it.’
She isn’t kidding. All Jefferson’s neatly arranged kit has been strewn across his camp, trampled into the ground, ripped, crushed or burnt.
‘They’ve burnt the axes.’ Milo points at the fire, and the thick wooden handles poking out from the flames.
Honor creeps from between the trees, crouches near the fire and picks up something red, crumpled and singed. ‘They’ve tipped everything out of Jefferson’s rucksack and burnt most of it. I’m pretty sure this used to be a packet of beef jerky.’
Meg swears under her breath. ‘He’s going to be gutted when he sees what they’ve done. This is his kit, his best stuff.’
‘They missed these.’ I move a T-shirt with my foot and duck down to pick up a packet of water purifying tablets. ‘And this.’ I shove the flint and steel into my pocket. ‘We can still purify water and make a fire.’
‘No knives.’ Milo looks around then kicks at the ground. ‘They’re probably carrying an arsenal.’
‘Not this one.’ Meg holds up a knife. It’s small, the type you’d use for peeling an apple.
‘Well, we can’t protect ourselves with that,’ Milo says.
‘We can use it to whittle spears,’ I say, ‘up on the clearing that Honor was talking about. Come on, let’s go. This place is creeping me out.’
We make our way back along the beach then head into the jungle and take the path that leads up to the right of the waterfall. We move quietly and carefully, placing each foot gently on the jungle floor. Sweat’s pouring off me and the soles of my feet are throbbing, my flip-flops long abandoned. I block out the pain. The jungle is noisier than I’ve ever heard it – it’s as though every animal, insect and bird has woken up and is whooping or squawking to make itself heard. But there are no human sounds among the cacophony of creature cries. Not a single scream or shout.
‘This must be it.’ Honor gestures towards the rough patch of dirt about ten metres to our right. ‘The clearing Danny found.’
I lead the way to the centre of the space then shrug off my rucksack and roll my shoulders forwards and backwards. Every muscle in my body aches. The others follow, dumping their rucksacks next to mine. Honor swigs from her water bottle while Meg just collapses onto the ground. Milo paces back and forth, a movable barrier between the edge of the jungle and us.
‘Milo,’ Meg hisses at him. ‘Save your energy.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’m fine.’
He reminds me of a caged tiger, waiting for something to get close enough that he can attack. I’ve never seen him like this before but I’ve got a pretty good idea why he’s so restless; he feels bad that he’s not out looking for Danny and Jeffers. He’s imagining them fighting with Josh and Jack and wishes he were there to back them up. It’s got nothing to do with ‘being a man’ or trying to be an alpha male. I feel exactly the same way.
Honor wipes her mouth with the back of her hand then screws the lid back on her water bottle and glances across at me. ‘What do we do now?’
I point across the clearing to a dense patch of bamboo. ‘We cut that down then we sharpen the ends.’
It’s dark now and, without the light from a fire, Meg, Honor and I are sitting in pitch black around the small pile of our belongings. I managed to whittle two bamboo poles into spears before the sun set. The knife was so blunt it took for ever. The jungle sounds have changed now – the whoops and squawks have disappeared and, instead, the air is filled with buzzing, chirping and the clicking of cicadas. There’s still no sign of Jeffers and Danny. It’s still warm, although cooler up here than it was on the beach. But it’s not the temperature that makes me shiver. It’s fear. Jack and Josh could come bursting out of the trees at any second.
Milo is still refusing to sit down. He paced for what felt like hours then announced that he was going back into the jungle to look for the boys.
‘You can’t,’ Meg said. ‘What if you disappear too?’
‘They’re my best mates. What if something’s happened to them?’
‘What if you leave and something happens to us?’
That stopped him in his tracks.
Logically I know that, even if Jeffers and Danny are OK, the chances of them finding us up here tonight are slim. Jeffers won’t be able to track us in the dark and the
re’s no fire to alert them to our new camp. All I can hope is that they’ve got away from Jack and Josh and they’ve found somewhere safe to hide for the night.
‘Why do this?’ Honor asks again. It’s a question she’s asked at least half a dozen times since we sat down. ‘I mean, I get that you hurt Josh’s hand, Jessie, but it’s not like you broke any bones. Why terrorize us like this?’
‘Because they can,’ Meg says flatly. ‘And because they’re arseholes.’
‘It’s my fault,’ Honor says. ‘If I’d have just pushed that little squit off me none of this would have happened.’
‘No.’ I hold out a hand. ‘Don’t you dare. This is not your fault. He shouldn’t have put his hands on you in the first place. He deserved what he got.’
‘I could kill them.’ Milo’s voice drifts through the darkness. I can barely see him, just the vaguest of shadows when he moves.
‘What’s the plan of action for the morning?’ Meg asks, keeping her voice low. ‘Assuming nothing else happens tonight.’
‘We look for Jeffers and Danny,’ I say. ‘If we don’t have any luck, or if we run out of energy, we come back here, rest, then go out again.’
‘And what if we run into the brothers?’ Honor asks.
‘They’re not going to kill us,’ I say. ‘They’re cowards. Look at the way they acted at the pool – divide and conquer – one of them tried to distract me so the other one could crack on with you. If all four of us confront them they’ll back down.’
‘You think?’ Meg doesn’t sound convinced.
‘Yes.’ I try to hide the doubt in my voice. ‘I do.’
‘They might have left,’ Honor says hopefully. ‘We could creep along the edge of the beach again and climb over the rocks to see if their boat is still here.’
‘Sod that,’ Milo says. ‘I’m done with creeping about. This is our island, not theirs.’
I wake with a start and for one terrifying second, as my nails scrape against the rough dry ground, I have no idea where I am. It’s still dark, apart from the tiniest streak of light on the horizon, and the low rumble of the jungle fills my ears. There’s another sound too, the low bassy tones of a male voice. Milo, I think instinctively. But Milo’s asleep. I can hear the gentle rumbling of his breathing from beyond the pile of rucksacks. Could it be Danny or Jeffers? But they would have woken us up. One of the brothers then? Have they found us?
As I peer into the darkness a shadowy, male silhouette moves towards the cliff face. As he approaches the edge he twists back and circles us, stepping around the periphery. Fear floods through me as he disappears from view. What is he doing? Waiting for someone else? Penning us in? A terrifying image jumps into my head, of petrol being spilt from a can, dripping onto the ground as he walks. A full circle, a dropped match and then… BOOM, we’re trapped within a wall of fire.
The figure walks past me and then pauses. I just heard the same thing he did – a rustling sound from the bushes to the ledge of the cliff edge. I glance left and right but I can’t see Honor or Meg on either side of me, it’s too dark and they’re obscured by the pile of rucksacks.
The dark figure moves away from me towards the bush. Below the sharp drop of the cliff, the sea is quiet. It feels like the whole world is asleep apart from me and the man – teenager? – I can’t be sure – walking slowly away from me.
Is it Josh? Is his brother hiding in the bush? Are they about to ambush us? I slide my hand along the ground, fingers spread wide as I search for the spear or the fruit knife. My fingertips brush against something firm and wooden and I close my hand over it. A knife this small isn’t going to do much damage but it might be enough to scare Josh off. That’s if he’s not about to set the island alight. I sniff, subtly, pulling the warm night air into my nostrils, examining it for traces of petrol or lighter fluid, but all I smell is salt and the musty tang of our rucksacks and my own body.
Josh is stepping closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. The bush rustles again and I shift up onto my hands and knees, priming myself to run, to shove, to send him hurtling over the drop and into the sea. On the other side of the rucksacks Honor snorts in her sleep. I want to say something, to wake her and the others, but I’m scared Josh will hear me. Right now he thinks we’re all asleep and I’ve got the element of surprise on my side. I’m going to have to push him off the cliff. It’s the only way to keep the others safe.
The dark figure stumbles towards the bush, hands outstretched, blindly waving them through the air. He’s six feet from the edge of the cliff…
They made me feel so defenceless earlier, swinging me between them like a slab of meat from the butcher’s yard. They made me feel weak and afraid. I’m never going to let them make me feel that way again. Let’s see how much they enjoy the tables being turned.
Five feet…
I jump up onto my feet, put the knife in my pocket and ready myself to run. Pushing Josh into the sea won’t kill him – Danny survived that fall. I’ll just be buying us time to deal with Jack.
Four feet…
I stand up. Josh is mumbling to himself but I can’t make out what he’s saying, it’s blocked out by the sound of the bush rustling.
Three feet…
I start to run.
Two feet. As I raise my hands to chest height ready to push, Josh speaks again.
‘Danny, is that you?’
My breath catches in my throat. I know that voice. And it’s not Josh. It’s Jefferson!
One foot…
I make a desperate grab for the back of his T-shirt but it’s slick with sweat and my fingers slip away as he steps off the cliff.
Chapter 20
DANNY
Day five on the island
Danny is crouching on the large bough of a tree, fast asleep, his arms loosely wrapped around the trunk, his hands and feet scratched and bleeding, when a shout wakes him. He jolts, then tightens his grip on the tree, suddenly realizing where, and how high up, he is. It was pitch black when he fell asleep, but there’s the tiniest glimmer of light on the horizon where the sun is slicing its way through the dark curtain of night. A loud splash makes him turn sharply to his left. The sound came from beyond the rocks; the small patch of sea he plunged into, feet first, when he jumped off the cliff a couple of days ago. He holds himself still and listens, anticipating a second shout or another splash. None comes.
Could it be Jeffers? They were separated in the jungle hours ago. Josh and Jack were chasing them and Jeffers leapt the fallen tree that blocked their path and kept on running. But there was no way Danny could get over it with his bleeding foot. He peeled off to the left instead, his pulse pounding in his ears as he continued to run. He headed away from the beach, charging deeper and deeper into the jungle, adrenaline and fear fuelling each painful step. He ran until his chest burnt and he couldn’t pull another breath into his lungs, then he dropped to his knees, panting, sweating and crying with exhaustion. He didn’t care if Jack and Josh caught up with him. He couldn’t take another step.
He lay on his back on the jungle floor, panting and gasping, staring up at the canopy of leaves above him, not caring whether a tarantula crawled over his face or a snake slid up the leg of his shorts. He ran his tongue over his dry lips but it didn’t wet them. His mouth was bone dry. Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself to his feet and began to make his way back in the direction he’d just come from, jumping at every sound, freezing whenever a twig grazed his ankle or arm. He needed water. Without it, and in such insufferable heat, he’d die within twenty-four hours. Anuman had drummed that into them on the boat on the way over.
Arriving on the island felt like another lifetime. He’d been so excited, apprehensive too at the thought of spending a whole week with the others. It all seemed so ridiculously childish now, when their tour guide was dead and two absolute psychopaths were charging through the jungle trying to hurt his friends.
When he finally arrived at the waterfall it was all he could do not to fall head first
into the swirling pool. Instead he looked cautiously around then dropped to his belly and scooped the cool water into his mouth. When he couldn’t drink any more he dunked his head into the pool, gasping with pleasure as the cold water soothed his parched skin. He didn’t enjoy it for long. Josh and Jack hadn’t caught up with him yet, but his luck wouldn’t hold out for ever. He had to find the others.
Ten minutes later, covered in sweat again and limping, he crept out of the jungle to find the camp had been deserted. All that was left were a couple of empty plastic bottles, a few sweet wrappers and several discarded T-shirts. He looked up and down the beach for his friends but the only sign they’d ever been there were the footprints to and from the sea. He felt sick with fear. Had Josh and Jack discovered them and taken them away in their boat? Was he alone on the island with Jefferson? Or worse, the only one left. He dismissed the thought. If Jack and Josh had kidnapped his friends they wouldn’t have allowed them to pack up their stuff first. Milo, Meg, Jessie and Honor had to be hiding somewhere. But where?
Beyond the sea the sun was sinking low in the sky: orange, red and purple fingers creeping into the wide stretch of blue. It would be dark soon. If he ventured back into the jungle to look for the others he would risk getting lost in the dark or stumbling into Jack and Josh. No, he decided as he grabbed a coconut and a screwdriver from the pile next to the shelter, he’d find a tree to hide in and stay close to camp.
Now he stares out warily from between the branches. It’s so dark he can’t see more than a few feet in front of him. If he stays in the tree he’s safe. The splashing could be a trap – designed to lure him out. But what if it’s not? What if, right now, one of his friends is thrashing around in the inky water, desperate for help? He puts the screwdriver between his teeth and bites down on it. As weapons go it’s not great but it’s better than nothing.
He carefully clambers down the tree, listening for the sound of human voices, searching the darkness for danger, then he runs down the short stretch of path that leads to the camp. There’s no one there, no one on the beach either – or at least, not on the tiny sliver of beach he can see. He moves carefully over the sand, slowing his pace as the rocks rise up to meet him; huge, black, jagged boulders, slippery with seaweed and wet from the spray of the sea. He climbs slowly, carefully, trying to remember the route they’d taken to go fishing, gripping the slimy surface with his fingers and toes.
