Petronio was a born liar. Like father, like son. But for this once, he would make an exception. He nodded and mumbled, “Both of us … heard.” He was digging himself deeper with every word.

“Let me assure you, boy, that if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will not treat you like a son, but a traitor. Do you understand? The last fifteen minutes of your life never happened. Now leave us!” Grasp flicked his hand, dismissing Petronio as if he were a speck of dandruff. He turned to the guards. “So, it looks like we have more than one plumbing leak. There’s another little drip that needs to be stopped — permanently! Don’t prove as incompetent as my so-called son! And report straight back to me as soon as it’s dealt with,” Grasp snarled. “Do what you have to do. The sewage worker you let in earlier is a liability. Now move it!”

The guards did as they were told, pounding out of the house and onto the highway. The chase was on.

3• ONE MINUTE BEFORE ARK’S JUMP

The mist had done Ark a huge favor. At this level, a few hundred yards below the treetops, the forest transformed into a backdrop of blurred shapes. He was now no more than an outline crouched between the advancing guards. Ark only had seconds.

His mind raced. What he’d overheard in the utility room was a death sentence. He had to do something, but what? He looked desperately at his plumbing belt: wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, ratchets, and rope, thin but strong, for crawling through dark, stinking pipes … Rope! That was it!

The leaves shivered in the gloom, whispering amongst themselves, as Ark peered briefly over the safety posts at the edge of the highway. Why wait to be pushed? All he needed to do was unhook the rope from his belt, loop it around one of the posts, and then tie the ends tightly around one wrist. Crouching down for just a moment, he fastened the rope with nervous fingers.

It was now or never. All he had in his mind was blind faith. If the post was rotten, then … snap! Ark would truly plummet down: a wingless bird. Dead.

He stood up and took a running leap straight over the edge.

Every instinct screamed at him to stop. Too late. He flew out into space in a great arc. The rope unraveled, then pulled taut. The wrench was so sudden, he thought his shoulder might have dislocated. But underneath the branch line where he now swung wildly, he was still breathing, still alive. The earth had not claimed him — yet.