There were shouts of triumph now, and Tom found himself joining in, laughing with relief, because George had come so close to being killed, but he was okay. Tom glanced down at the tree, now lying wedged far below, but as he raised his eyes again, the jubilation on the far side fell away into silence and the others stared back at him, and Tom was glad he couldn’t see all their expressions clearly from here.

Alice had been hugging George, but almost in response to the silence, she turned, saw Tom, and stepped forward, perilously close to the edge.

“We’ll wait here!” It wasn’t a suggestion, more as if she were stating an obvious truth. “You have to find a way down and across. If you can get down, we’ll throw a rope down to you.”

He looked down at the tree again, trying to see the rope they’d already lost, then back at the bedraggled group. Joel had been right—they’d have struggled to get down into that chasm. But it wouldn’t be any easier for Tom, and they didn’t have time to waste.

He called to them, “You can’t wait. You need to carry on toward the river—” She was already shaking her head. “You have to move on! I’ll be quick on my own. I’ll find my way across and I’ll catch up.”

George stepped next to Alice, rubbing his hand as he shouted, “So a few of us can wait here for you and the rest can head on. We’ll all catch up with them together.”

It was tempting, but Tom knew it was the wrong choice. He’d laughed at their insistence on sticking together by the plane, but out here it was vital, because it was going to be tough enough getting through the jungle anyway without splintering into small groups. So he had to find a way of persuading George and Alice to leave him.

“I don’t want you to wait. If you wait there I have to find my way back to you. If I’m on my own I can make directly for the river. You have to trust me on this—it’s the only way. I’m better on my own.”

Tom couldn’t even see Joel but he heard him say, “Tom’s right. We have to move on, and I’m sure if anyone can catch up with us, it’s him.” The words were hollow, meaningless, laced with something that sounded almost like satisfaction. He stepped through the group now and stood alongside Alice and George. “Is there anything we can do for you, bro?”

“You could stop calling me bro, but other than that, I’m good.”

Joel feigned a smile, then turned away. His voice was almost the only thing audible above the jungle whirr as he organized and prepared the group for moving on.