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.
As he reaches the highest point of the rock he blinks into the darkness. He can see the small stretch of sea that fills the tiny cove but there’s no sound of splashing and no one calling for help. Terror reaches its dark fingers into his heart and squeezes. Silence isn’t good. Silence means that whoever fell into the water isn’t going to make it out.
Please, he prays. Please don’t let it be one of our group.
Shaking with fear he carefully slides down the rocks, feet first, feeling around for flat planes.
Maybe it wasn’t a person who fell, he thinks as he eases himself onto the next rock. Maybe whoever shouted threw something off the cliff?
He extends his leg again, the screwdriver clamped between his teeth.
And someone grabs hold of his foot.
‘Bloody hell!’ Danny breathes, up to his chest in water. ‘Did you have to pull me in too? I nearly shat myself.’
‘I couldn’t risk you yelling.’ Jeffers, dripping wet and shivering, eases himself out of the water and onto the rock and then reaches out a hand.
Danny takes it, then, breathing shallowly in short, sharp bursts, his heart thudding against his ribs, clambers up onto the rock beside him. He studies Jefferson’s pale, pinched face and feels an unusual rush of affection, all thoughts of the phobias gone. He’s never been so glad to see him. ‘I thought they’d got you.’
‘Same.’ Jefferson breaks eye contact and rubs his hands over his face. ‘Sorry, man,’ he says as he looks back at Danny.
‘For what?’
‘Leaving you behind.’ He shakes his head ruefully. ‘The first rule of survival is to stick together but the adrenaline was pumping so hard I just… I…’
Danny touches his wet sleeve. ‘It’s cool. Don’t beat yourself up.’
‘I am, though. What I did was cowardly. I tried to find you, once I’d shaken them off, but it was dark and…’
‘Honestly, man. It’s fine. We’re both OK. For now anyway.’
They both sigh heavily and neither of them says anything for a couple of seconds. Danny stares out to sea. The sun is creeping over the horizon and there’s the tiniest sliver of orange light where the sky meets the sea.
He glances up at the cliff face. ‘What happened up there?’
‘I’m not entirely sure.’ As Jeffers runs a hand through his wet hair Danny notices there’s something different about him.
‘You’ve lost your glasses.’ He glances down into the dark sea. ‘I’d offer to look for them for you but…’
‘You wouldn’t find them anyway. I got whacked round the face by a branch as I was running and they came off. I didn’t have time to stop. I had to keep running.’
‘Why’d you jump? Off the cliff, I mean.’
‘I didn’t. After I gave those twats the slip I climbed a tree and—’
‘I did that too!’
Jefferson grins then raises his hand for a high five. Danny slaps it.
‘So anyway,’ Jeffers continues. ‘I was camped out in a tree for a bit but I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d head back to the camp to see if the others were there.’ He shakes his head. ‘It had been trashed.’ He swears under his breath. ‘I grabbed some water and headed up to the cliff top instead, to wait it out until the sun came up. I had no idea the others were already there.’
‘Honor’s up there?’ Danny scrambles to his feet, puts a hand to his eyes to shield them from the sun and squints up towards the clearing.
‘I assume so. I could just about make out a big lump of bags and what looked like four people lying around them, I was going to wake someone up but I heard a noise, a rustling from a bush near the edge of the cliff. I thought it might be the brothers, preparing to ambush us so I went to investigate. I didn’t realize how close to the edge I was and I…’
‘Fell.’
‘I just…’ He shivers. ‘I plummeted into darkness. I thought I was going to die. I really thought that was it.’
Danny’s blood runs cold as a memory of the first night on the island flashes up in his mind – Jefferson talking about heights and sharp drops and how much they scared him. That’s three now. First snakes, then spiders and now heights. Another phobia has come true. And whoever, or whatever, was rustling in the bushes made it happen.
Chapter 21
JESSIE