He slumps back on the sand, propping himself up on his elbows as Jeffers approaches.
‘The first thing we need to do,’ Jefferson says, nudging the charred remains of the fire with his boot, ‘is to keep this going. I did say yesterday that we should take it in turns checking on it through the night but someone,’ he raises his eyebrows at Danny, ‘obviously forgot.’
Danny grins. ‘I checked on the fire, it said it was fine so I went to sleep.’
Meg, walking past, snorts in amusement then quickly stifles the sound with her hand.
‘I’m not joking,’ Jeffers snaps. ‘We need this fire.’
‘But it’s boiling hot!’ Danny snaps back. ‘Even at night. We’re not going to freeze to death.’
‘Maybe not but the fire cooks the food, sterilizes the water and keeps animals away. You’re welcome to get bitten by a cobra if you want but I’d rather not take my chances.’
‘Oh God,’ Milo’s voice rings out from the shelter. ‘Do we have to talk about snakes?’
‘They exist.’ Jeffers crosses his arms over his chest. ‘So do vipers, kraits, tarantulas and black widows. They’re not locked away in zoo cages and we need to be careful.’
‘OK, OK.’ Danny holds up his hands in surrender. ‘I get it, I’m sorry. I won’t let the fire go out again.’
‘Good. Now let’s get organized. We need to decide who does what. We need one person to collect firewood, one to replenish the water, one to scavenge for food, one to go fishing on the rocks – or in the sea with the spear – and one to mend the net.’
There’s a brief silence, then Jessie raises her hand.
‘I don’t mind what I do.’
‘Nor me,’ Meg says.
As everyone else joins in Jeffers holds up both hands. ‘OK, OK. I’ll decide. Milo, you’re on fruit collecting. Danny, gathering wood. Jessie, you can fish. Honor, mend the net and Meg, you can do water.’
Danny raises his eyebrows. ‘And what are you going to do?’
‘Supervise!’
‘Seriously?’ He starts to laugh then stops when he clocks the irritated look in Jefferson’s eyes. ‘Nope, that’s fine, dude. Whatever you say.’
‘Stick together!’ Jeffers shouts as Milo and Danny traipse into the jungle, carrying an empty rucksack, Anuman’s machete and an axe. ‘We can’t afford for anyone to get lost.’
‘No worries, mate!’ Danny raises a hand in goodbye and then turns to Milo and lowers his voice. ‘He’s getting right on my tits.’
‘Ah, give him a break,’ Milo says, then he runs his tongue over his lips. ‘He’s loving this. God, I feel like crap. I think I’m dehydrated.’
‘You and me both,’ Danny says. ‘I don’t think I’ve puked as much since Jack Foster’s party in Year 9.’
‘I don’t know who that is, but given how much camp stinks this morning I don’t think I want to know.’
Danny shifts the axe up and onto his shoulder as Milo leads the way through the tight corridor of trees, hacking at the bushes blocking their route to the clearing. ‘What was going on with you and Jessie on the beach last night?’
Milo continues to swing the machete. ‘Nothing.’
‘You sure about that? You two were lying pretty damned close to each other.’
‘Says the guy who was so drunk he fell over us.’
‘I didn’t fall, I jumped on you.’
‘Dick.’
They both laugh.
‘So?’ Danny asks, refusing to let it drop. ‘Spill.’
‘Nothing to spill, man. We’re just friends.’
‘Are you sure about that? You looked pretty cosy from where I was standing.’
‘Leave it, mate.’ There’s a curtness to Milo’s answer that makes Danny raise his eyebrows. Milo’s definitely fancied Jessie in the past. They had a chat about it one night when they were thirteen, over their first, and last, cigarette. While Danny was coughing his guts out Milo confessed that he’d had a thing for Jessie for a while but thought she wasn’t interested. The next day Danny did a bit of digging via Meg but Milo struck out; Jess wasn’t interested. The last time they all went on holiday together when they were fifteen it all switched round; it was Jessie who had a crush, but Milo was seeing someone from school and was absolutely infatuated with her. It was still going on last summer, when Jessie and her family didn’t show up, although Milo’s not with her anymore.
‘Anyway, how are you doing after you dumped whatsher-face… Bella?’ Danny asks Milo as they step into the clearing.
‘I’m doing fine, thanks.’
‘Meg said you want to get back with her.’
‘Meg doesn’t know shit.’ Milo shoots him an annoyed look. ‘I’m going a bit further in for fruit. We’ve pretty much cleared all the trees round here.’
Before Danny can object, or make a joke about Jeffers telling them off, Milo is gone, ploughing through the jungle, swinging the machete this way and that.
Danny swipes at his forehead with the back of his hand. It slides across his skin. There doesn’t seem to be a single part of his body that isn’t slick with sweat. After an enthusiastic start – his first few trees felled with half a dozen strokes of the axe – his energy has drained faster than a cheap battery. He feels sick and his head aches and all he wants to do is lie down. Only there’s no way he’s going anywhere near the jungle floor with God knows how many creatures and creepy crawlies hiding under the leaves and moss. He rests his forehead against the nearest tree instead and closes his eyes. It’s ridiculous, really, how much trouble they’re going to when they only have to survive for another four days before their parents send out a search party. Even if they don’t eat another thing between now and then they’ll be fine as long as they all drink enough water.
But the water needs to be sterilized on the fire.
He imagines the look on Jefferson’s face if he returns to camp without any wood and, sighing, opens his eyes and reaches down for his axe. As his fingers wrap around the handle he hears a yell, the sound of branches snapping and then a loud thump that shakes the birds from the trees and sends them swooping up into the bright blue sky.
‘Help!’ Milo’s yell reaches him from deep in the jungle. ‘Help! Someone, help!’
Danny, panting and sweating, swipes branches out of his face as he crashes through the jungle, following the sound of Milo’s voice, then gasps in shock as an arm appears from nowhere and smacks him straight in the stomach.
‘Careful!’ Jeffers shouts. ‘Or you’ll fall in too.’
Inches away from Danny’s feet is a huge muddy crater in the jungle floor. It’s at least four feet across in both directions and eight feet deep. Slumped in the bottom, surrounded by broken branches, leaves, moss and jungle vegetation, is Milo. He’s clutching his ankle and breathing shallowly.
Stepping carefully, Jefferson rounds the hole then crouches down. He shuffles onto his stomach and reaches an arm into the pit. The tips of his fingers graze Milo’s hair, making him yelp in terror.
‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ Jefferson says. ‘It’s just me. Twist round and I’ll pull you up.’