Page 22

First, the mudslide, the desperation of almost suffocating, being buried under piles of earth.

Then the sheer, devastating horror of finding Hannah – of grasping that someone could have done that to her, plus the confusion over the timings.

Then the sinking realization that they were lost; that they weren’t going to make it out of the rainforest before nightfall.

Confronted with this onslaught of thoughts, she felt strangely numb.

That was the only way to describe it. As if she were now frozen in time and space, unable to feel anything except the sharp, stabbing pain around her ribs – and a cold ache in her chest that told her something awful had happened.

She’d felt this coldness before, more than once.

The day the doctors had first given her the diagnosis.

Then having to tell Ezra; the dread written across his face.

And again, when they’d told her that unless she continued with more and more rounds of invasive, painful treatment, then she’d likely never recover.

A sob rose up in her chest. She shouldn’t have come here; it was so stupid. What had she done? What had she been thinking ?

Lying on the application form, pretending to be in the best of health. And worse perhaps, lying in the video to Hannah, and even now letting the others think she was better: basing her whole story about why she wanted to come here on a series of mistruths.

The truth was different: the truth was that her cancer was not gone; it had never been gone. To her family’s despair and her husband’s fury, she had simply refused to undergo more treatment, seemingly content to let the cancer grow and mutate inside her body until she was nothing but tumours.

She’d just wanted to experience something of life, one last adventure.

So it had seemed worth it, lying to come here, if it could give her that.

But she hadn’t thought about the impact of her lies on everyone else.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d be slowing them down, how much she would need their support – yes, even without the mudslide, even if Hannah were here and alive and everything was going exactly to plan.

Even then, she’d have struggled, she’d have needed them to help her the whole way; she’d never have managed it alone.

And now they were lost out here, and Hannah was dead, and she was slowing them down.

She could see now that telling her lies had been a reckless thing to do; it was selfish.

Her husband had told her that, over and over.

And he was right. How could she justify it now?

Especially if her dishonesty led to any of them coming to harm – more harm.

To make matters worse, she couldn’t ignore the signs her body was giving her now, more furiously.

The pain – the awful, tender throbbing that had first alerted her that something was wrong, deep in her body.

It was a different kind of pain from anything else she’d ever experienced; it was unique, and that meant she knew exactly what it was.

The cancer was still spreading. The tumours that the chemo had started to make a dent in were too deeply rooted for her body to shake off – at least, not without more treatment.

Real, proper medical treatment, not trying to grasp one last life-affirming experience in the middle of a rainforest.

Another stab of pain hit her, deep in her spine.

A vision of the cancerous cells multiplying inside her body flashed into her mind: she imagined them pushing through her skeleton with a vengeance, on a mission to destroy her.

She stifled a sob. Just when she’d decided she wanted to embrace life, she’d left it too late.

And yesterday she’d witnessed something else that was causing her to revisit the crushing weight of grief; that life was over long before it should be: Hannah was dead.

The woman who had shone a light into the darkest of places, who seemed to only want to help people.

And it looked like some evil person had done this to her on purpose; that maybe they had orchestrated all of this, like the plot of some awful horror film.

She swallowed; the sensation painful in her dry throat.

Water . How long had it been since she’d drunk anything?

The humidity here meant that – even in the relative cool of the early morning – she was constantly sweating.

She must have lost a half-litre of water from her body overnight just lying on the ground.

She was about to reach out for whatever was left in her water bottle, but then she remembered the people she was out here with.

Most of all, she remembered Naya, and what she’d told her last night.

She needs this more than me. I should save it for her.

Mira put the bottle back down, moved to stand up – but was hit by a rush of vertigo and slumped back to the ground. Perhaps she shouldn’t be trying to move yet – she was more exhausted than she thought.

‘Hey,’ said Ben. Mira looked up. Ben was standing, gathering his things, stuffing them in his backpack. He was pale, with dark grey circles settling underneath his eyes. He looked like he’d been awake all night. ‘How are you holding up?’

Mira opened her mouth to speak. But instead, she felt her hands start shaking again, fresh tears forming behind her eyelids. She said nothing in the end; only managed to shake her head.

‘Yeah,’ said Ben. ‘Me too. Well, the only small piece of good news is, it’s getting light now, so we can get the hell out of here.

And the staff back at Hannah’s place – they must have sounded the alarm by now, seeing as we didn’t make it back last night.

There’ll be a search and rescue team out looking for us already – there has to be. ’

Mira turned to look at the other three still huddled on the ground, jackets and towels wrapped around them.

Even though there’d been no more rain overnight and the sun was already shining, the morning air was still cool.

She let her gaze linger on Naya’s face; one of her hands was cupped underneath her cheek like a pillow.

Her mouth had turned down slightly at the edges.

Her brow was furrowed, her lids flickering gently.

Mira observed her like this for a moment until, as if feeling her watching, Naya stirred slightly.

‘Ouch,’ Mira hissed as a jolt of pain erupted from between her ribs.

Her voice woke the other two. Carly sat up first, rubbing her eyes.

They were swollen and bloodshot, with large purple rings underneath.

Next to Carly, Naya sat up slowly, gingerly, taking deep breaths as she moved.

Mira wondered if she was trying to quell her nausea.

‘Morning, guys,’ Ben said. ‘Are we all OK?’

‘I think so,’ said Scott weakly.

‘Just about,’ said Carly, with a sad twist of her mouth. ‘Let’s get up and going soon, shall we?’

‘Hey,’ Scott said. ‘I think we should definitely use the sun to help us navigate today. I know we tried it yesterday, but if we take it more slowly and concentrate on keeping it in view, it should help us.’

Carly, squatting now to put her stuff in her bag, looked thoughtful. ‘It’s a good idea – but the jungle is so thick, we can barely see the sun through the canopy.’

Mira looked upward, squinted through the foliage, caught only a slim flash of the rising sun beyond the tall trees. Carly was right: it was hard to make it out clearly. But perhaps they could see enough to at least attempt it.

She decided to try to stand up again, to see if she could get a better view of the sky that way.

Slowly she moved her legs in front of her, had just started to stretch upwards when a sharp stab of pain jabbed her between the eyebrows.

She clutched a hand to her forehead, wobbled on her feet and reached towards a nearby tree to steady herself. The pain subsided.

‘Are you OK, Mira?’ said Scott, rushing towards her.

She nodded weakly. ‘Just a headache, I think.’

‘Let’s find you something to eat – you need some calories to get you through the hike back... are there any snacks left in your bag from yesterday?’ asked Naya.

Mira shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got nothing left.’

‘Not at all,’ said Naya. ‘Totally understandable you didn’t bring much – we only thought we’d be out for a few hours.

OK, let me see then,’ she said, as she started to rifle through her bag, pulling out her first-aid kit, an empty water bottle, a head scarf and then, finally, a protein bar and a squashed looking banana that Mira vaguely remembered seeing yesterday when they’d been examining all their supplies.

‘Here – take it,’ she said, shoving the banana into Mira’s hand.

‘Are you sure?’ said Mira. ‘You should eat something too – especially now we know you’re—’ She stopped, but not before a flash of something – concern? curiosity? – ran across Scott’s face.

‘I’ll just take the protein bar – you have the banana,’ Naya said, unwrapping it.

‘Is there enough to share with everyone?’ said Ben. ‘Though I guess some of us need it more than others...’

Mira saw Naya pause, the bar halfway to her lips. She put it down – her cheeks had flushed a little; Mira wasn’t sure whether she looked annoyed or embarrassed.

‘I don’t think we agreed what to do with the food yesterday, did we?’ said Naya. ‘But yes, I’m sorry – of course, we should share it out. Here, take half of this,’ she said, snapping the bar in two and handing it over.

Ben reached out to take it, then seemed to change his mind. ‘Don’t worry,’ he muttered. ‘I’m not hungry anyway.’

Scott rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows; Mira wondered if a headache was starting to form for him too, the likely consequence of the mix of exhaustion, dehydration and the cloying humidity.

‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘We’ll be OK without food and water if we get going now – we should be back at the house in a couple of hours.’

‘Exactly,’ said Carly. Then quietly, ‘To be honest, I don’t know how you can eat at the moment. I’ve got no appetite.’

‘Agreed. Let’s get going, then. The sooner we start walking, the sooner we’ll get out of here,’ said Ben.

‘Carly, if you don’t think we can use the sun to find our way, shall we take a look at the map?

And how about the satellite phone – can we try and give it one more go again before we set off?

It might have gotten itself just a spark of extra charge by now, right? ’

‘I doubt it’ll work, but knock yourself out,’ said Carly, digging the phone from her bag. She handed it to Ben.

‘And here’s the map,’ said Scott, walking over to Ben so they could study it together. ‘Look, I reckon we’re about here now – see, this area, about halfway between the waterfall and the house – a bit closer to the stream? Mira, Carly, Naya – does this look right to you?’

They all peered at the map, then looked up at the sun. ‘I can’t be totally sure, but I think so,’ said Carly.

‘I’ll mark the trees again as we go, to make sure we’re not going around in circles,’ said Scott.

‘This thing is still dead,’ said Ben crossly, waving the satellite phone at them and then shoving it in his backpack. ‘Let’s get going, then. Everyone ready?’

Mira nodded, then turned wearily to do up her bag, pausing for a moment at ground level to survey the area around her in case she’d dropped anything.

Eyes roaming the earth, she caught a flash of colour that stood out from the browns and greens of the forest floor.

Something shiny, metallic. She lost it, then searched the ground again, and there it was.

A small silver package.

She frowned, crouched to pick up a stick and nudged it out of the earth; stared at it.

Even half-buried under the leaves, with soil and dirt now encrusted across its face, there was no doubting what she’d found: a cereal bar.

A kind of snack bar that definitely wasn’t in the collection they’d pooled together yesterday.

Someone had been keeping extra food to themselves, then. Not the worst thing in the world – understandable, maybe, under the circumstances. But still, a bit selfish, and sneaky with it.

Should I say anything? Mira was genuinely stumped.

She didn’t want to make too much of a fuss over it – in the grand scheme of things, it was only a snack, and if she drew attention to it, it might cause an argument.

What they needed now was to all stick together – it was their best hope of getting back to safety, as fast as they could.

‘Are you all right, Mira?’ Naya’s soft voice caught her off guard.

Mira knees creaked; she felt suddenly even weaker, too weak to walk.

She blew the air out from her cheeks then, slow and steady, made her way up to standing.

Before she could think about it too hard, she started to stuff the bar in the pocket of her trousers – but, too late, she caught Naya’s eyes tracking the movement.

‘What’s that?’ she said, pointing at her pocket. ‘Did you forget something?’

Mira felt heat flood to her cheeks. No, no . Was she going to think it was hers, now? That she’d dropped it there, and now she was trying to hide it? She decided to come clean; it was her only option now anyway.

‘Ah – it’s, well, I’m not sure. I just found it. On the ground, there.’ She pulled the bar back out of her pocket, held it in Naya’s direction. Naya stared at it for a moment.

‘What’s that?’ said Ben.

‘It’s a snack bar,’ said Naya. She reached out, took it from Mira’s hand, then turned to show it to the others. ‘A Costa Rican one. I don’t remember anyone having one like this – I thought we’d run out of stuff, to be honest.’

‘Me too. So what were you doing with it?’ said Carly, turning on Mira, eyes flashing.

They think it was me hiding food, eating it in secret.

‘Oh, no – it’s not mine,’ said Mira. ‘I just found it – right here.’ She pointed to the patch of earth where she’d picked it up, lamely waited for someone to speak. Then she looked around at the others’ faces: all the same picture of mild confusion, with flickers of irritation.

Except for Scott’s. Scott’s expression was different.

He wore a look of guilt; of panic.

As Mira watched, Scott began to shake his head. He moved it slowly at first, then more and more quickly, frantically.

‘Scott?’ said Naya. ‘Are you OK? Is there something you want to say?’

His face flushed purple. ‘It’s not what you think... I just... I was trying to...’ he said.

And then, as Mira watched, rooted to the spot, Scott started to move backwards, bumping into branches and vines, brushing against the enormous leaves, eyes darting wildly from side to side.

‘I... I...’ Scott stuttered. ‘I can’t do this. I’m so sorry—’

And with one more step backwards, as his body started to disappear into the lush green foliage, Mira caught sight of him turn and begin to stumble, alone, into the dense rainforest.