The rescuers burst through the trees towards them, a flurry of bright orange and olive green and khaki. A paramedic rushed to Ben’s side; another ran straight to Mira.
‘We are evacuating you to the hospital in San José,’ said one of the rescuers. The chopper was still circling and it was low now, so close that the tops of the trees were blowing wildly, swaying from side to side; Naya’s eyes were dazzled by the beams of its lights.
‘Please,’ she said, nodding to Ben and Mira, ‘take these two first – Ben has a stab wound to the side of his chest, and Mira has a head injury. I’m a nurse – I’ve done my best to stem his bleeding, but he’s lost a lot of blood. I think it might be too late...’
Two more paramedics rushed to Ben, and within seconds Naya was releasing her grip on him as they hauled him onto a stretcher, then carried him through the trees, directing the chopper to a large enough clearing where it would be safe to come lower. Two others raced to Mira, took her next, then Scott, and finally Naya, whose dry, heaving sobs now wouldn’t stop as the strong arms of four men carried her, the stretcher bouncing her through the jungle.
Soon she would be leaving Hannah’s rainforest retreat and its catalogue of horrors behind.
I’ve made it.
Cupping a blood-smeared hand across her stomach, she whispered the words to herself:
‘We made it, baby. We have survived.’
She imagined the little bean inside her stomach, pictured Elodie and Marcus in her mind, told them silently:
It’s going to be all right.I am coming home.
SIX MONTHS LATER
MIRA
‘Well, I can’t say our interview was everything I was hoping for – but I’m confident I can turn all this into a decent story,’ said the journalist. ‘You’re sure there’s nothing else – no final comments, no last-minute memories that have sprung back?’ he said. ‘You’re sure you didn’t bury Carly out there in the rainforest, and keep it a secret all this time?’ He snorted, a bitter-sounding laugh, then in a mockingly deep, serious voice said: ‘Come on, speak now, or for ever hold your peace!’
Oh, dear God.Mira cringed inwardly. She was feeling a little embarrassed for him. That this earnest freelance reporter had convinced the editors atThe Postto pay them all a nice sum of money to hear an only slightly more detailed version of the events that had already been splashed over front pages across the globe. Through the computer screen, she could see his eyes were still hungry; even now, when their time was up and it was so close to being over, he was desperate for something more. And she couldn’t blame him. But they had nothing else to give, and even he knew that.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Scott. ‘That’s everything we know. We can only assume Carly died somewhere out there in the rainforest – if she’d managed to escape the jungle, someone would have spotted her by now. No one can stay off the radar for that long – not with half the planet knowing what they look like.’
‘I suppose so. Thanks for your time, then,’ the journalist said, attempting to dredge up whatever morsel of enthusiasm, of gratitude, he could find. ‘Best of luck with everything in the future – and if you think of anything else to add, you know where I am.’
He hung up, and the app made a sharp little bleep as he went. She must have done dozens of video calls since the start of the pandemic, and the sound was hardly unfamiliar, but the noise still startled her. She reminded her nervous system to stay calm: she was safe now; the worst was over.
‘Well, thank God that’s done,’ she said, shifting in her chair and checking the time in the corner of the screen. She looked at the two other faces on her screen, smiling at her. ‘Thank you – both of you. I don’t think I could have got through this without you there – I was nervous, to be honest, doing this. I’ve never really spoken to a journalist before. If it wasn’t for getting the money to help pay for my treatment, I’d never have agreed to it.’
Naya leaned back in her chair, rested a hand on the large swell of her belly. Behind her, in the blurred-out background, Mira could make out the shapes of her two children, lying on the floor on their stomachs in front of the TV, kicking their legs in the air behind them. It was a good job they were able to negotiate having the interview online rather than in person; it was too late in Naya’s pregnancy for her to travelfar, and she was insistent that she wouldn’t leave her children again.
‘I felt the same,’ she said. ‘I’m glad it’s done too. I just wonder if he felt that he got his big story.’ She shrugged. ‘He seemed disappointed that we didn’t know more about what happened to Carly.’
At the thought of Carly, Mira felt the familiar jolt of panic in her stomach; a pang in the ribs she’d cracked in the mudslide, a throb at the base of her skull – as if the now-healed wounds had memories of their own.It’s all right,she told herself.We’re all safe now. She’s gone – there’s no way she made it out of the jungle. She can’t hurt me any more.
Scott took a sip of water. ‘Well, even if he is, we’ve kept our end of the deal. We told our stories, and honestly, even though being paid for it doesn’t nearly make up for everything we’ve been through, or bring Hannah and Ben back – well, it seems like we could all use the cash.’
At the thought of the money which was about to wing its way into her bank account, Mira’s eyes filled. ‘I can’t even tell you how much it means to me, getting that payment. I’ll be able to fly to the States for the new treatment they’re developing – they’re getting amazing results with it over there.’ She smiled sadly. ‘And if it doesn’t work – well, then I’ll have enough left over to take Ezra on one last beautiful holiday together. To do something special, before – before...’ Her voice cracked.
‘It’s going to work, Mira,’ said Naya, eyes bright and fixed through the camera on Mira’s face. Mira felt the strength of her belief; wanted her to will it to be true.It is going to work.If she could believe it enough – if they all could – perhaps that would make it real.
Mira smiled. ‘Thank you. And I’m so happy for you too, with the money... I’m sure it’ll make such a difference to your family,’ she said.
Naya beamed. ‘Oh, yes. Did I tell you? I’m going to be able to get the kids into an amazing school – I can cover the fees for at least the next two years.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know!’ said Mira. ‘That’s wonderful.’
‘They have these really small classes, and they’re outside in nature almost all the time – it’ll be so good for them.’ She paused, looked overcome for a moment. ‘And of course, the money will help with this little one too.’ She reached a hand down to stroke her belly. ‘And if I can, I want to try and keep some of the money aside to go and visit Ben’s grave one day – say a proper goodbye to him.’ Naya’s eyes glistened as she spoke.
Mira felt a deep pang in her chest at the thought of Ben; the guilt at having suspected him, wrongly, of Hannah’s murder; of how hard he’d tried to hang on to life. His heart had still been beating when the rescuers arrived – but by the time they’d got him to the hospital, it was too late. If only it hadn’t been too dark for the emergency services to send out a search party straight away, when Paola had called them that first evening after the group didn’t come back. Or if only the first rescue helicopter that had flown out early the following morning had found Ben when it had been circling above their patch of jungle, not long before Carly stumbled across him. He’d have made it; things wouldn’t have ended the way they did. They all could have been saved more injury; more trauma.
At the thought of how close he’d come to surviving, tears spilled onto Mira’s cheeks. ‘I’d like to do that too, one day,’she said softly. ‘Maybe we could even all go together – a real tribute to him.’
