She laughed at the final comment, and yet it made Tom uneasy. He’d once again slipped into thinking it was only the others who were in danger, not him, not Alice or the other people he’d grown closer to. But now that she’d inadvertently planted the thought in his mind, he imagined the possibility of something happening to her, and was surprised by how terrifying he found that prospect.

Another rumble of thunder tremored across that distant sky, perhaps sounding closer, but still a long way off, and George raised his eyes to where the sky was still clear and full of stars above them, and said, “I would not want to be in this camp if it rains.”

Tom understood what he meant—the kids were barely holding it together after two days of dry weather. It would probably only take some rain or some other random setback for it to descend into complete chaos. Tom looked up at the stars too, dazzlingly close and clear. But as beautiful as it was in that moment, he felt morning couldn’t come soon enough.

CHAPTER 25

When, after three hours, they were finally faced with the prospect of going in and joining the others in the confines of the plane, they decided against it. Instead, they built up the fire and followed Jess’s lead, bedding down on the piles of remaining luggage.

And with the crackling of the fire and the faint rumbling of thunder, Tom fell into a deep sleep, and woke when it was already light. He could hear movement and looked up to see Jess using the remaining pieces of wood to build up the fire again.

George and Alice were still sleeping and the cabin above them was quiet. Maybe it was just the exhaustion of the previous day or the fact that they’d become used to the racket of the jungle at daybreak, its constant noise already part of their daily rhythm.

“Hello,” said Jess when she saw that he was awake.

“Hello.” He sat up. “How long has it been light?”

“Only about ten minutes.” She used the branch she was holding to poke at the fire. “Thank you. For last night.”

He nodded. “You know we’re leaving today?”

“Yeah.” She looked up the slope to the container that held Freddie’s body. “I might go and say good-bye now.”

“Want me to come?”

“I’ll be okay.”

She walked away from the fire, still carrying the branch, and for a moment he wondered whether he should have told her not to try opening the container, but he didn’t have to worry. When she got there, she only leaned against it with her head bowed, as though deep in prayer. Yes, she would be okay, but he’d told her the truth out there in the jungle dark—she would never again be the person she’d been two days ago.