by Bear Grylls
About the Book
MISSION: SURVIVAL
LOCATION: The Caribbean Sea
DANGERS: Tiger sharks; hurricanes; dehydration
When Beck Granger is shipwrecked in the open seas, he needs all his survival skills to save a small group of passengers.
But the sinking was no accident. In order to stay alive, he’ll have to work out who wants him dead, and why.
That is, if the sharks don’t get him first . . .
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Character Profiles
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Bear’s Survival Tips
About the Author
Also by Bear Grylls
Copyright
To my late father, Mickey.
For teaching me the value of love,
fun & adventure.
CHARACTER PROFILES
Beck Granger
At just thirteen years old, Beck Granger knows more about the art of survival than most military experts learn in a lifetime. When he was young he travelled with his parents to some of the most remote places in the world, from Antarctica to the African Bush, and he picked up many vital survival skills from the remote tribes he met along the way.
Uncle Al
Professor Sir Alan Granger is one of the world’s most respected anthropologists. His stint as a judge on a reality television show made him a household name, but to Beck he will always be plain old Uncle Al – more comfortable in his lab with a microscope than hob-nobbing with the rich and famous. He believes that patience is a virtue and has a ‘never-say-die’ attitude to life. For the past few years he has been acting as guardian to Beck, who has come to think of him as a second father.
David & Melanie Granger
Beck’s mum and dad were Special Operations Directors for the environmental direct action group, Green Force. Together with Beck, they spent time with remote tribes in some of the world’s most extreme places. Several years ago their light plane mysteriously crashed in the jungle. Their bodies were never found and the cause of the accident remains unknown . . .
James Blake
James is tall and broad-shouldered, and a year older than Beck. He is fascinated by science, and very knowledgeable about the legends of the Bermuda triangle – though he doesn’t believe in the paranormal explanations for the disappearances that happen there. He is not thrilled to have been dragged along on a Caribbean cruise by his mother, Abby. She wants him to go into the family business, but he is starting to become drawn to the excitement and adventure of the outdoor life.
CHAPTER 1
Beck Granger stared wide-eyed into the lights and knew what fear was. His tongue lay like a lump of dead leather in a mouth that was as dry as the Sahara desert. All the moisture had gone into the sweat that soaked his hair and armpits. Sheer terror pinned him to his chair.
The lights seemed hotter than the sun. Beyond them, he knew, there were hundreds of eyes boring into him, expecting results.
‘Beck?’ A voice broke into his thoughts. ‘Beck?’
Slowly he dragged his attention away from the lights and back to the woman sitting on the couch opposite.
Mandy Burrows was about the same age his mother would have been. Her smile was friendly, and her voice was gentle and encouraging. She was used to putting visitors at their ease and getting them to answer simple questions. Usually her guests were pop stars, cooks, designers . . . Teenage boys were unusual.
Beck had killed venomous snakes. He had faced wild tigers. He had looked men who wanted to kill him in the eye. But nothing had prepared him for being on live TV.
Behind Mandy, one of the TV cameras moved in and focused on Beck’s face. The red light above the lens was on, which meant this was the one showing the picture. All the thousands of viewers who watched Mornings with Mandy were looking at him.
Now that she had his attention, Mandy repeated the question.
‘Beck, what would you say your first survival situation was?’
‘Oh . . .’ He thought for a moment, and fumbled for his glass of water. Beck had been briefed about TV interviews by his Uncle Al. Al had done many in his time. One tip had been: If you need a moment, take a sip. It meant that he wasn’t just sitting there, looking stupid. It also put some moisture in his mouth so that he could actually string some words together. ‘I, uh, guess it was my parents . . .’
A low chuckle ran around the studio, and he realized how that had sounded.
Beck forced a smile. ‘No, I mean, I didn’t need to survive them, but they took me . . .’
And after that it was easy. He was talking about something he loved – his experiences in the wild with his environmentalist mother and father.
‘My parents could have just left me to stay with friends while they travelled, but they didn’t want to do that; they wanted me to grow up with them. So they took me along too. And while they were doing their important stuff, I got the chance to’ – he shrugged – ‘to learn.’
Green Force, the organization that had employed his parents, sent them all around the globe. They had done great work, caring for their planet and its people. He had trailed in their wake, and knowledge had just rubbed off on him.
They had been working on a strategy to trap poachers in Botswana; he had been taught by tribal elders how to track animals across the Kalahari. They had gone beyond the Arctic Circle in Finland to investigate the herbal remedies of the Sami people; he had learned how to find food and shelter, surviving in the freezing temperatures of a snowy waste.
For a long time Beck had thought experiences like this were completely normal . . .
Mandy leaned closer. Her face grew grave and her voice dropped a little. She clearly thought she was going to say something very deep and profound.
‘Of course, Beck, your parents died tragically when you were still very young – but your adventures have continued. One way or another . . . Let’s see – you’ve been involved with drug lords in South America, illegal foresters in Indonesia, and diamond smugglers in Africa . . . You’ve lived a pretty dangerous life for a fourteen-year-old! Do you think you’re in some way driving yourself to live up to your parents’ legacy?’
Beck flushed. He had thought he was getting over the death of his parents. Then, recently, in Australia, he had learned things that had torn the old wounds wide open. Things he wasn’t allowed to say in public. He didn’t appreciate being reminded of them.
‘It’s not like I try to make it happen,’ he protested. ‘I mean, I go to a normal school in England now, I don’t travel – well, only
during the holidays . . .’
Mandy nodded.
‘But I keep coming across things that are wrong, and I know the last thing my parents would want is for me to sit on my backside and do nothing about them!’
He flushed again as someone in the audience clapped. Then two people were clapping, and then four – and within seconds the whole studio was applauding.
Mandy smiled again.
‘Beck Granger, thank you very much.’
CHAPTER 2
‘Bravo, Beck. Well said!’
Uncle Al was waiting behind the scenes. On TV, Beck had looked like he was sitting in a comfortable living room with a view out over London. But it was just a set. Behind it were walls of plywood, and cables and computer monitors, and people bustling quietly to and fro.
Al – Professor Sir Alan Granger – had been Beck’s guardian ever since his parents died. Lately he had been taking on the role of Beck’s agent too, managing his reluctant nephew’s new-found media career.
It had all happened very suddenly when Beck got back from Australia. While there he had fallen foul of a corrupt organization that wanted to seize and pollute large parts of the Outback. They thought nothing of destroying a natural wilderness and trashing the heritage and birthright of the Aboriginal peoples living there. In the process, Beck had uncovered a priceless archaeological find – a cave full of prehistoric rock art – that had become famous around the world.
After that Beck had expected to fade away quietly into the background. Except that some reporter had noticed his name and had made the link to Beck’s earlier involvement with the same organization, Lumos. A couple of years ago, after a media campaign by Beck and his friend Tikaani, Lumos had been forced to abandon plans to drill for oil in the ancestral lands of Alaska’s Anak people.
The reporter connected the dots, and the first Beck had known about it was when the story appeared on the web with the headline: THE BOY WHO KEEPS SURVIVING; THE COMPANY THAT KEEPS FAILING. From the way they wrote the story, it was like Beck went around the world carefully foiling evil plan after evil plan. That wasn’t how it was at all. But people weren’t interested in facts . . . Since then, the phone hadn’t stopped ringing.
Lumos had a well-funded PR department and powerful lawyers. They had gone into overdrive, trying to play down any connection with Beck. That just made everyone even more interested. Would Beck like to be interviewed? Be photographed for a magazine? Write a book?
And so Al had quickly stepped in. After his experience with Green Force and his own TV projects, he was used to dealing with the media. Al was Beck’s first line of defence. He made sure no one took advantage of his nephew, or tried to rip him off, or force him into anything he didn’t want to do. And he made sure that the payments went into a savings account for Beck’s university education, assuming he wanted one.
It was Al who had thought it might be a good idea to do this interview. ‘We can show the public who you really are – just a normal boy!’ he had said.
Beck wasn’t sure if it had worked. He was pretty certain that ‘normal’ boys didn’t do any of that sort of thing.
‘Are you driving yourself to live up to your parents’ legacy?’ Beck mimicked Mandy’s gushing, oh-so-serious tones, knocking away his uncle’s hand as Al gave his hair a ruffle.
‘That was a great answer. You really took control of the interview. That’s the way to do it.’
‘I’m not so sure, Uncle.’
They had reached the dressing room and Beck pushed the door open. He stopped in surprise as a strange man got up and grabbed his hand.
‘Hi, you must be Beck! How do you fancy a break in the Caribbean?’
CHAPTER 3
Beck blinked.
‘Do what which when how?’
‘Give him a second to catch his breath, Steven,’ Al remonstrated – though he didn’t seem surprised to see this newcomer. He pushed Beck gently into the room.
The man looked about Al’s age, but with thick dark hair. His whole appearance was casual but smart, with chinos and a calfskin leather jacket. He had a wide, sparkling smile which Beck would have liked, once upon a time. With his new-found experience on the TV celebrity circuit, he was seeing too many wide, sparkling smiles – and learning not to trust them.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’ The man stepped back smartly, still with that big smile. He held both hands up, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. ‘I didn’t mean to crowd you.’ The smile was lopsided, though his eyes still shone with good humour.
Al shut the door behind them. ‘Beck, this is Steven Holbrook. He’s an old friend.’
That was enough to reassure Beck. He’d never heard the name before, but Al wouldn’t call anyone an old friend if they were remotely dodgy. And so he shook hands and said, ‘Hello.’
‘I’m glad you could come, Steven,’ Al went on. ‘I was so sorry to hear about Paula.’
‘Yeah.’ A shadow dimmed Steven’s smile for a moment. Whoever Paula was, whatever had happened, it seemed to Beck that it hurt a lot more than the man was letting on. Then the smile was back, directed straight at Beck. ‘Beck, I have to tell you, my daughter is almost insane with jealousy. I told her I was coming to meet you and she begged me to bring her with me. But she’s only six, so I thought it was more important she stayed in school, right?’
The smile was infectious, and Beck felt it spreading to his own face. He fought it back. He still wanted to know what this was about.
Al and Steven were exchanging slightly awkward glances, like they were gearing up to say something difficult; Steven obviously hadn’t popped in just to catch up with his uncle. But what did it have to do with the Caribbean?
‘So, Beck, your uncle tells me you’re feeling the pressure a bit – all this fame and everything . . . How’d you like a chance to get away from it all?’
Beck wasn’t going to answer any questions until he knew more. He shot Al a questioning look.
‘Steven is a holiday cruise rep. He hires the entertainment acts for cruises. Music, theatre . . .’
‘Lectures . . .’ Steven said, with a grin.
‘. . . and lectures.’ Al returned the smile. ‘Years ago he used to hire me to talk to rich Americans about Green Force’s work while we sailed in circles around the Caribbean.’
‘And I’ve just started with a new outfit that operates small, private cruises in the same area. So I’m looking for something to offer our customers that’s fresh and different.’
‘Unlike me,’ Al said, so wryly that Beck had to laugh.
‘Hey, you’re pretty different!’
‘Why, thank you.’
‘How would you like the job, Beck?’ Steven asked. ‘The Christmas holidays are coming up – we could do it then, so you wouldn’t miss out on school, and it pays considerably better than a paper round. We sail from Miami to Bermuda. Five days there, five days back, and you’ll get home in time for Christmas with your uncle here.’
Beck listened quietly.
‘And I’d love you to give two or three talks in that time about yourself, your experiences, survival tips . . . and about Green Force too, if you like. Environmental issues – all the things you really care about. I’m the entertainments manager for the trip, so I’ll be there to give you any help you need. What do you say?’
Beck thought. ‘How exactly is that getting away from it all?’
Steven flashed his infectious grin again. ‘Just say that it takes really dedicated paparazzi to follow you onto a cruise ship.’
‘Hmm.’ Beck cocked an eyebrow at Al. ‘Are you in on this too?’
‘Me? No. I’ll take the opportunity to get down to some serious studying without you under my feet.’
Beck thought some more.
While he liked the idea of a nice warm break over Christmas, he wasn’t sure about the rest of it. He liked being surrounded by nature. And you couldn’t get less natural than a cruise ship. Refiltered water. Engines burning diesel. Every meal for the next week
already waiting for him in the freezers.
To be quite honest, it all sounded a bit boring. And it sounded safe.
Steven must have read his mind.
‘Of course, you wouldn’t spend your whole time on board. We’d stop off on islands en route – and we’ll be starting from Florida. Have you ever been to the Everglades, Beck? They’re a sight to see.’
Beck wondered if Steven had checked with Al first and already knew the answer. The answer was no, Beck had never been to the Everglades – the two thousand square kilometres of marsh and wetland at the southern tip of Florida that were home to countless exotic species. He had heard that the wetlands were being restored to their natural state after twentieth-century efforts to drain them. Green Force had worked hard to raise awareness of the damage that draining them was doing.
He knew full well that he was being bribed, and he suspected Steven knew that he knew. But . . . the Everglades!
And so he flashed back a grin every bit as wide and confident as Steven’s.
‘Sounds great. I’m in!’
CHAPTER 4
Beck whooped as the saw grass whipped past his eyes, only half a metre away. Warm, humid air blew into his face at forty miles an hour. It carried the smell of a million tons of vegetation. The Everglades!
At first glance the swamp looked as solid as a lawn. As if you could just walk across it. But the ‘lawn’ was actually tightly packed weeds growing up out of the dark water. No boat with a normal propeller could negotiate them – it would seize up in seconds. An airboat like the one he now sat in was the only way to travel across the marshes.
In fact, Beck was fast coming to the conclusion that it was the only way to travel anywhere. OK, it would be kind of hard to pop down to the shops in one – but still, airboats were cool. It was basically a flat raft with a massive aeroplane propeller at the back, pushing the boat across the swamp with the full power of its 600-horsepower V8 engine.
Forty-eight hours earlier he had been in London, walking home from school at the end of term on a bitterly cold, grey day. Twenty-four hours earlier they had arrived in sub-tropical Florida, for a couple of days’ acclimatizing before joining the ship. He hadn’t been able to believe his eyes when he saw a Father Christmas in a shopping mall, wrapped up warm in the traditional red outfit and hat, surrounded by small kids in T-shirts and shorts.
