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It must have been my imagination. No, I could hear something. A family of monkeys. I trembled with fear. Karl had told us that there were always jaguars in the vicinity of bands of monkeys.

God, let Kevin get here.

I was wearing a blue T-shirt that Marcus had given me, a brown flannel shirt, rough underwear, jeans, socks, walking shoes, and a large bandanna tied around my neck. I crawled into my camouflaged little niche. The stones cut into my back, but they weren't as bad as the cold. I was soaking wet and had no fire or anything with which to cover myself. I took the bandanna from around my neck and tied it over my face, and the warmth of my own breath gave me at least the illusion of comfort. Frightening thoughts filled my mind: wild animals, snakes. What if I didn't find the pack? What if Kevin didn't get here? I would either be devoured by wild beasts or die of starvation. I felt desperate, desolate, and I leapt out of the niche.

‘Kevin! Kevin! Kevin!’

‘Oha, oha,’ the cursed monkeys chattered.

I fled back to my alcove. I was choked with tears.

Don't cry. Don't break now. Be a man of action, I coaxed myself.

It was already dark. I replaced the bandanna over my face. I couldn't sleep, couldn't get the frightening thoughts out of my mind.

Karl, why didn't I listen to you? Marcus, why was I so cruel to you? Now I'm being punished.

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