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She might have had almost no strength left, but whatever she had, she would use it to keep her mind alert; to stay alive as long as she possibly could.

And her best chance of doing that had to be by staying right here, camouflaged beneath the foliage, listening to the shrieks and cries of the animals, and trying not to move a muscle.

It was past the hottest point of the day, it would cool down soon enough, and here amid the undergrowth she was protected from the worst of either rain or heat.

Surely she wouldn’t have to wait too long.

Someone would have noticed they were off the grid as early as yesterday afternoon, when they didn’t come back from the rainforest. Paola would have started a search for them; she’d have called for help – that helicopter could have been the first stage of a rescue mission.

If she could just stay hidden here a little longer, surely someone would come and find her?

Yes, staying here, hidden under these fallen vines and branches, was the safest option, especially after being chased like that through the trees.

She could no longer trust anyone out here – not even those she would have blindly followed only hours ago.

After what happened with Ben, and now that Scott and Carly too had abandoned her, left her to fend for herself out here, she knew she could no longer rely on anyone.

The only person she still held any faith in – her only true friend here – was most likely floating somewhere along the stream, or worse, lying at the bottom of it.

Gently at first, tentatively, and then more greedily, she allowed her tongue to dab the surface of the leaves, absorbing the fresh water droplets.

They had to be the best thing she had ever tasted; she ran her tongue up and down the leaves, swallowing only the tiniest amounts but feeling somehow rejuvenated.

She was so taken over by her thirst that she hardly noticed the movement in the foliage in front of her.

By the time she caught sight of the figure looming above her, she only had time to yell out in fear, cover her head with her hands and curl into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut like a child afraid of a monster.

‘Mira?’

She heard her name, recognized the lightly accented voice that was saying it. That’s it. I’m losing my mind from the shock – the dehydration. She’d been thinking about Naya, and then her brain had told her that Naya was here. But she couldn’t be; Naya was gone.

Perhaps Mira was dead then, and had been reunited with her friend in the afterlife? She’d succumbed to her thirst and tiredness; someone had attacked and killed her, maybe.

‘Mira – it’s me,’ came the voice again. ‘Are you all right? Come on, you’re safe now. Open your eyes.’

She wasn’t imagining it. She pinched herself on the arm; it hurt.

She wasn’t dead, then. This was real.

Naya.

With her hands still clamped, inexplicably now, over her still-closed eyes, Mira tried to steady her breathing. One finger at a time, like she remembered her nieces doing when they were little, she peeled her hands away from her face, and half-squinted up into the face in front of her.

‘Naya? Oh my God, it’s you! I thought you were dead! But how did you...?’

‘I managed to cling onto a rock and climb out of the stream – I don’t even know how,’ cried Naya. ‘I thought... I thought it was the end.’

Reaching out to her, Mira took Naya into her arms; both of them sobbing with relief, with joy.

‘Mira, I am so happy I’ve found you, but we have to get going – we have to get out of here. We can’t get stuck here for another night... Where are the others? Where are Carly and Scott?’

‘I lost them,’ said Mira, explaining how Scott had twisted his ankle and how she had managed to lose them when she’d nipped off to the stream. And how she had tried to find them again – before being chased by someone.

‘It was the strangest thing – at first I assumed it was one of the others – Carly, Scott or Ben – but then I called out, and they didn’t answer, and the way they were chasing after me, not saying who they were – it wasn’t right. It felt... predatory somehow.’ She shuddered.

She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them to look at Naya again, realized she was shaking – and was wearing only her jacket, underwear and shoes, by the looks of it. Then she caught sight of the blood-soaked fabric tied around her leg.

‘Naya, oh my God, you’re hurt!’

‘I cut my leg on something in the water. It hurts like hell, but I’ll be OK – honestly, I’m just glad I made it out alive. But the person who was chasing you – you didn’t see who it was?’

‘I didn’t,’ admitted Mira.

Naya looked in all directions, then turned back to Mira, rubbing at her temples. ‘Well, whoever it was – they’re not chasing you any more.’

Mira exhaled and glanced upwards. Above them, just visible through the canopy, she could make out thick, purplish-grey clouds gathering, and a new chill in the damp, close air.

They couldn’t have long, now, before it started raining again.

They couldn’t spend much more time here; not in the cold, with nothing to eat, no water – and a fresh downpour on the way.

Naya groaned and put a hand to the wound on her thigh, jolting Mira from her thoughts. Then she remembered: ‘Your rucksack – I took some things from it, like the first aid kit! It’s in my bag.’

‘Oh, you found it – I thought it went into the water with me!’ said Naya.

‘It did – it got caught on a rock, a little way out from where you fell in. I waded out and managed to grab it.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ said Naya, pulling Mira back into her arms. ‘I am so glad you did that. I can try and fix my leg up a bit now.’

‘And let’s find my towel for you to use as a blanket – your skin feels cold.’

Mira opened her rucksack and handed over the swimming towel, which Naya draped over her shoulders, then dug out the first aid kit. Its contents were damp but intact. Naya winced in pain as she removed the strip of fabric from her thigh, and the two of them examined her wound.

‘It looks painful, but at least the bleeding has stopped,’ said Mira.

Naya nodded, took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. Pulling the first aid kit towards her, she picked out a sterile wipe, tore it from the packet and dabbed it around the edge of the wound. The gash looked deep and nasty.

She sighed, turned to Mira. ‘Can you help me to walk? I made it this far OK, but I don’t know how much further I can go without support.’

‘Of course – well, I’ll try,’ said Mira. ‘Though I don’t know how much use I’ll be.’

‘Let’s just do our best.’ Naya pointed back in the direction of the stream, whose rushing torrent was still just about audible.

‘We should follow the water along in the same direction, as far as we can,’ she said.

‘It will lead us to something – somewhere – and we’ll know that way that we’re not going around in circles. ’

Mira nodded her agreement and then, with Naya using her as a sort of crutch, the two women began to hobble and stumble through the trees.

They moved slowly and hesitantly at first, then more quickly as they got into a rhythm, Mira supporting Naya to keep going, even when the pain in her leg shrieked at her to stop.

They trampled on in silence. After a while, Mira halted and turned to face Naya, opened her mouth ready to suggest they rest for a short while – but Naya raised a hand to quiet her. ‘Shh... what’s that? Do you hear voices?’

Mira frowned; she hadn’t heard anything.

‘I don’t think so, I—’

She stopped herself short.

Yes – I can hear them!

The rise and fall of voices – familiar ones – coming and going, through the trees.

Oh, thank God! They had found the others.

‘It’s them!’ said Mira. ‘I think it’s Scott, and Carly – is it...?’ Mira was about to bolt through the trees to find them, had started to move, when Naya’s hand yanked her backwards, a sharp tug that had her almost falling flat on the ground.

‘Shhh!’ said Naya. ‘Don’t move. I don’t think... something doesn’t sound right.’

The two of them halted on the spot, listened, tuned into the two voices.

They couldn’t hear everything, but snippets, fragments of the conversation drifted through the trees to meet their ears. Words – confusing ones, sentences that made no sense, not in isolation.

And then, piece by piece, Mira started to put it together. Looking into Naya’s eyes then, she realized that Naya understood everything too.

They knew what had happened and why. They knew who had killed Hannah.

And they understood, too, that their fight wasn’t yet over.

Slowly, Naya knelt to the ground, stifling a groan as she moved her wounded leg. She gestured to Mira to hand over her rucksack, which Mira did, and began to rifle through it.

‘What are you looking for?’ asked Mira, voice low.

‘The knife,’ she whispered. ‘It was in my rucksack with the first aid kit – but it’s not in yours. Did you see it when you went through my bag?’

Mira shook her head.

‘Then someone’s taken it,’ said Naya.

Naya dropped her eyes down, and Mira watched as she sifted her hands rapidly through the damp leaves of the jungle floor.

When she lifted them back up, her fingers were clasped around the sharp edge of a fist-sized rock.