Chapter 36

The rain let up eventually. Beck and Ju-Long had both drunk their fill of clean water, and refilled the bottles several times. They sat in tense silence and continued to moisten Jian’s lips as often as they could, getting water slowly into him, drop by drop. They said nothing – there was nothing to say.

For breakfast they nibbled on some cold pork. They had left it on its skewer over the fire during the night so that the smoke would keep away any insects that might have felt like sharing their meal. Then they had brought it under the shelter with them when the sky opened.

Feeding Jian was out of the question without him waking up, which he didn’t do. Beck felt his pulse frequently. It stayed steady. Beck was unsure if that meant he wasn’t getting any worse, or that he was improving. Sometimes Beck lifted an eyelid with his thumb, and saw how Jian’s pupil immediately contracted in the daylight. So, that meant his brain was functioning. But if Jian had had any kind of consciousness, there would have been resistance in the eyelid when it was lifted up. And there was none, which meant Jian was well and truly unconscious. Beck could only hope and pray that deep down, Jian’s body was gathering strength that would eventually burst out into the rest of him.

Even after the rain had stopped, they stayed under the shelter with their injured friend. Maybe Jian didn’t know they were there, with his conscious mind. But his unconscious mind could still register their presence, Beck thought. The pair of them were sending a signal: You are not alone. We are here for you. We want you back.

The woods around them were alive with the sound of dripping water. Drip, drip, drip. It was a cold, dull sound. The sky was still clouded over and the island seemed grey and lifeless.

Beck felt the same. He knew they were running out of options and he felt sick inside and it wasn’t just from hunger.

Come on, Beck. Be positive. Contribute. Make a change. That’s how you stay ahead of any dark cloud that might be chasing your thoughts.

“I’ll get the fire going again,” Beck said out of the blue. Ju-Long nodded. Activity, warmth – those would lift the spirits. And Beck had found it was a universal rule that a good fire could banish the gloom, inside and outside your head.

And when he had done that, he thought, he would see what they could do to upgrade their shelter into something a bit more weatherproof. And catch more food – no point in going hungry on a well-stocked island like this. And increase the signal too – make it into something that even the blindest lookout sailor couldn’t miss. Just keep busy.

They had a supply of kindling and tinder with them, kept out of the rain. Beck used his hands to scrape the sodden heap of ashes and charred fragments out of the fire circle, then started to build a fresh pile.

Drip, drip, drip.

Thwack, thwack.

He paused, his head cocked. Had he heard–

Drip, drip, drip.

No. He started again.

Thwack.

“Beck–” Ju-Long too had paused what she was doing, a bottle halfway to Jian’s lips.

“I thought I heard–”

Thwack, thwack, thwack.

“It’s a helicopter!”

Beck leapt to his feet, turning a circle where he stood as he stared up through the leaf canopy. All he could see was the grey blur of the clouds above them.

He broke into a run, pelting his way through leaves and branches that seemed to conspire to hold him back – whipping at his face, snatching at his feet, until he had to force himself to go slower, or risk a broken ankle or poked-out eye.

He burst out onto the beach and gazed frantically around. There was no sign of a helicopter. They had built a signal beacon before the hunt the day before. It stood where they had left it. The letters that Jian had picked out in the sand had washed away, but their outlines were still shown by the dead weed and stones. Beck made a mental note that he would have to re-mark them. But, first things first.

Thwack, thwack…

Had it got louder? Quieter? Nearer? Further away?

He looked up at the clouds again. It was impossible to say how high they were. There was nothing for the eye to fix on. They could be low down, with the helicopter only just above them. Easy to see with nothing in the way, but now completely obscured.

Was it worth lighting the fire for? He might just be wasting a good blaze. But the smoke might rise above the clouds, or the helicopter might come down lower. It might actually be looking for them, so the crew would be keeping an extra close watch.

Put that way, there was no question. Beck pulled the protecting fronds away and struck his fire steel at the tinder.

Come on, come on…

The fronds had done their job – the pile was dry despite the rainstorm. Sparks settled onto the bone dry leaves at the base of the pile. Beck pouted his lips and blew gently on it. The sparks turned to little glow-worms that ran along the surface of the leaves and disappeared into the depths of the pile.

Thwack, thwack.

“Don’t go!” he shouted, uselessly, at the sky. “Just hang on…”

Crack.

Something in the pile had caught. A few moments later, the first tendrils of flame began to poke through the gaps in the pile, like shy little animals nervously emerging from their burrows, not certain if it was safe. The air above the fire began to shimmer with warmth.

Beck ran up to the treeline and came back with a handful of wet leaves. He didn’t want the fire to burn too clearly. He wanted smoke, and in the absence of flip-flops, wet leaves were the next best thing. He dumped the leaves onto the pile and ran back for a second load.

The flames had vanished. Had he just put the fire out? He held his hand flat above the pile, holding his breath until he felt the distinct touch of hot air on his palm. He snatched it away and waited for smoke to show.

That was more like it! Dark grey streams began to rise up from the beacon. He added more leaves and quickly stepped aside as the wind changed direction and the smoke swung round into his face. More leaves. It was turning into a decent, dark signal.

Thwack, thwack.

Was it quieter? Was it going away? He desperately followed the path of the smoke upwards with his eyes.

But then, silence. The helicopter must have gone.

Beck screamed into the empty sky, with all his might, in desperation.

“Aaarrrgh!”