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Joe appeared at the edge of the bank, anxious until he saw Suryei come to the surface. She waved at him to join her, but quietly. Joe ditched his rucksack and axe and eased himself into the water, careful not to splash. He sank into the cool depths, feeling the water sluice through his clothes. It soothed him, took away some of the tension. He drank deeply, not caring that the water invaded his nostrils. He shook his head beneath the water, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his face, invigorated. He then quietly surfaced, again making as little noise as possible, aware that sound would travel far in the cooler, denser air above the water. He turned and caught a glimpse of Suryei climbing up the opposite bank. Her clothes clung to her skin like wet tissue paper. Her breasts were not large but they were firm and her shirt hung suspended from her nipples. Joe stopped himself from staring, but not before Suryei caught him at it.

He climbed out of the water soundlessly and sat on the bank. Joe felt better, still numb, but at least he felt back in his body again rather than remote from it in shock.

‘You okay, Joe?’ Suryei asked.

He nodded. ‘Thanks.’

He took the empty water bottles from his rucksack. Filling one, Joe held it up to examine the contents. The water was clear and clean. He filled the other bottles, stuffed them back in his rucksack and reshouldered the load. Joe then picked his way carefully up the slippery mud, grabbing tufts of foliage to keep his balance as he went. He glanced up as Suryei looked around. He took another quick glimpse of the woman squeezing water out of her hair.

He’d half expected that she would sprain her ankle or something, and that he’d then have to carry her through the jungle. That old cliché, the helpless female. But it hadn’t taken him long to realise that she was tough and that if anyone would be doing the carrying, it would probably be Suryei.

The bush did not appear to be quite so dense here. It seemed cooler too. Enormous trees, giant columns, appeared to support the massive green roof overhead. At their base was a carpet of lime-green ferns. Families of monkeys chattered high overhead.

And then something occurred to him. ‘Hang on, Suryei,’ he said quietly. He went back to the rivulet, crossed it, and found a broken branch. He scrubbed at his footprints and at the skid Suryei had made in the bank where she’d slipped into the water, until they ceased to look man-made. He then crossed the stream and did the same to their tracks on the other side.

He considered whether they should have travelled down or upstream a distance before leaving the water, so as to throw off their pursuers. But, he reasoned, providing they were careful and left no entry or exit footprints along the bank, their pursuers wouldn’t have a clue whether they’d even been in the stream, let alone where they’d left it.

Joe wondered where they would end up. Certainly he had not the slightest idea where they were going. Neither did Suryei. They were just trying to stay ahead of the killers. Maybe they’d just step out of the jungle and into a dirty great car park with a Pizza Hut. He wondered whether he was getting delirious.

Their eyes and brains were growing accustomed to their environment now. The foliage wasn’t scratching and tearing at them quite as often. Indeed, it was much easier going in this forest of giants. That had a downside, he realised. The soldiers would also move more quickly through it, and there were significantly fewer places in which to hide. Their world had been a misery of crawling in and around thickets of greens and browns through air so dense and heavy with water that it almost seemed to physically impede their progress. And always behind them, or beside them, or in front of them, the ever-present threat of death.

Then there was the rain. They heard it before they felt it, a hammering that battered the leaves in the treetops far overhead. Eventually, the weight of the water would make the leaves sag and it would then fall through the next layer of trees and bushes and so on, until it eventually hit the spongy ground as enormous bloated gobs. There was a lot of mud too, thick molasses mud that sucked at their shoes. Joe started walking on the smaller ferns to avoid it, which kept his legs wet and covered with fiery bites from caterpillars, insects and small spiders.

The ground began to rise and with it, a new dimension of misery was brought to their efforts. The incline steepened quickly and became slick with water and their legs burned with the extra exertion. The higher ground, however, soon afforded them a view of the valley below and occasional patches of sky above, a welcome change from the dark canopy overhead.