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It was the first time Ben had had a proper look at the guy, and though he didn't exactly spend a lot of time gazing at his features, he felt as if the hijacker's face would be burned on his memory for the rest of his life. He was a small man, but well built with dark skin and short black hair. Along the left-hand side of his face was a pale scar. But what Ben noticed more than anything else was the look in his eyes. It was a strange mixture of hate and passion. Certainly the man didn't look scared. He held his head up proudly.

  Ben didn't say anything to him. He couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, he approached and started trying to untie one of the knots.

  His panicked fingers couldn't move fast enough. He picked at the thick rope, a freezing fear passing through his body at the thought that the plane could explode any second. Whoever had tied these knots, however, had known what they were doing. No matter how hard he worked at them, he couldn't even loosen the things. The hijacker remained perfectly still. He stared straight at Ben – an uncomfortable sensation – the look of loathing etched on his face.

  'You could at least help me,' Ben hissed urgently as he continued trying to untie the knots. But the hijacker didn't reply. He just sat there, as if waiting for the inevitable, the smoke gradually obscuring his features.

  'We've got to get off the plane!' Angelo's urgent voice came from nowhere. Ben spun round to see him standing nearby.

  'I thought you'd already gone,' Ben observed curtly.

  'Ben, please. It's not safe.'

  Ben ignored him and continued trying to undo the ropes. With an impatient sigh, Angelo joined him, both of them crowding round the hijacker as they desperately tried to release him. The arrival of Angelo, however, seemed to have an effect on the tightly bound man. He started to mumble something in a foreign language. Ben didn't understand what he was saying, but he certainly got the gist of it: they were words of absolute hate. The two of them did their best to ignore him.

  Above the noise of the wind, Ben and Angelo heard Danny's voice. 'We have to get off now!' he called. 'The burning's getting worse. It could go up any moment!'

  Ben's fingers were bleeding from the roughness of the rope, but none of the knots had even budged. He felt Angelo grab him by the arms.

  'Ben,' the Italian said firmly. 'We can't undo him. We've got to get off this plane. There's no point all of us dying.'

  Ben felt the frustration boiling up in him, but he knew Angelo was right. He looked at the hijacker. 'I tried,' he said quietly.

  It was only then that the hijacker spoke in English. 'You think you have beaten me,' he hissed. 'But you haven't. I welcome death, but the arm of my people is longer than you think.' He looked at Angelo. 'You will pay for what you have done,' he spat. 'Believe me, you will pay.'

  'I haven't done anything,' Angelo replied. He turned to Ben. 'Come on,' he said. 'Let's get out of here.'

  Ben nodded, and without another look at the hijacker, he crawled back up the aisle – following the emergency lights in the floor – with Angelo to the exit.

  Danny had left the aircraft just before them and was waiting for them at the bottom of the inflatable ramp. None of the other passengers were in view. His hair was blowing in the heavy wind and he was screaming up at them, although they couldn't hear a word he was saying above the howling gale.

  'Jump!' Angelo yelled, and together they slid down the ramp and onto the ground below.

  The moment he hit firm ground, Ben took in his surroundings. The plane had come to a halt at right angles to the road and it was only then that he realized how lucky they had been. It was not a wide road – indeed it was more of a mud track – and on either side of it was marshland that seemed to stretch as far as they could see. The wind was whipping the water on either side of them into a dangerous-looking frenzy, and the reeds and other vegetation were being blown all over the place. The air was thick with flying plant debris; the sky was dark and angry.

  Almost as though they were one person, Ben, Angelo and Danny ran away from the plane along the road. They were a good thirty metres away when Ben suddenly stopped. 'The others!' he shouted above the sound of the wind. 'Where are they?'

  The three of them looked all around.

  'The cabin crew must have taken them round the other side of the plane,' Angelo shouted.

  'We should try and stick together,' said Ben. 'If anyone sends out a search and rescue party, it'd be much better if we were all in one group.'

  It was Danny who stopped him. 'I don't think it's a good idea to go past the plane again,' he shouted. Ben and Angelo turned to look at him. 'Look, Ben,' he continued, 'I'm not saying you did the wrong thing stopping to try and free the hijacker, but we lost a lot of time back there. If something's burning, we'd be idiots to approach the plane again. We need to stay well away, even if it means splitting up from the others.'

  Ben hesitated. He knew that what Danny was saying made sense, but at the same time he didn't like losing the safety they would have in numbers.

  Suddenly, however, the decision was made for him.

  There were two explosions. The first made more noise than anything else – a great thunderclap that shook Ben's body to its very core.

  'Run!' he yelled.

  It was the second explosion that threw them all to the earth. They had started sprinting away from the plane when it happened, and as the force of it hurled them through the air and onto the ground, they all instinctively covered their heads with their arms. The first thing they felt was the heat. With all the energy of a thousand ovens, it felt for a few grisly seconds as if it was scorching the skin from their bodies. Ben heard Angelo yelling in terror before he started to feel bits of debris raining down on them. He didn't dare look up in case something hit him in the eye, but he knew they had to get out of range of the debris as quickly as possible to avoid being injured.

  Danny had obviously had the same thought. 'Get up!' he yelled. 'We need to keep running!'

  Ben and Angelo didn't have to be told twice. They pushed themselves to their feet and started sprinting away from the horrific, burning fireball that had exploded only metres behind them.

  Chapter Eight

  They ran and they ran.

  None of them looked behind them. They didn't need to – it was clear that the explosion had been massive. The heat was still fierce and the debris, blown high in the air, was now falling randomly to the ground, scattered all over the place by the high winds. Ben stumbled and almost fell; as he did so, he felt Danny's strong hand grip his arm and pull him up. They carried on running.

  They only stopped when they seemed to be out of range of the debris. Gasping for breath, they turned round and finally looked back. The plane was a blazing inferno. Now it was alight, it seemed much bigger than it had done before. Chunks of burning metal were strewn all over the path, mini bonfires that occasionally popped and exploded dangerously. The high winds made the flames dance and Ben saw – with alarm – that the dry grass on the road that they were following was catching fire, which was slowly approaching them.

  He spun round in the opposite direction. The road trailed off into the distance. It was too murky to see where it led.

  It was Angelo who spoke first. 'We need to let someone know we're here,' he said. Pulling out his mobile phone, he looked at the screen.

  'Anything?' Ben asked.

  The Italian shook his head. 'Nothing. It must be the storms.' He looked around. 'Where are we?' he asked.

  Ben had been thinking the same thing, and he reckoned he had an answer. 'I think it must be the Everglades,' he called above the wind.

  Angelo's brow furrowed. 'I've never been here before . . .' he said uncertainly. 'I've heard people talking about it, of course . . .'

  'It's a national park,' Ben said. He couldn't quite remember where he'd learned this stuff. 'Marshlands, mangrove swamps, cypress glades – that kind of thing.' He looked around. 'Goes on for miles.'

  'Great,' Angelo murmured. 'How do we get out?'

  There was pause. Danny spoke
next. He pointed across the marshland to his right. 'The plane came from that direction,' he shouted. 'So that must be south. That means the track we're on must go from east to west.'

  Ben cursed. 'We need to head east,' he said. 'That's the way out of the park but . . .' His voice trailed off. There was no way they were going to get past the burning plane. To make matters worse, the dry grass had continued to catch alight and with the aid of the winds the flames were coming closer and closer. 'We haven't got a choice,' he shouted. 'We need to head west.' He pointed out to the swamps. 'Unless anyone fancies a swim.'

  'In that?' Angelo pointed to the tempestuous waters. 'No thanks.'

  Danny looked west. 'So are we agreed, then?' he asked. 'We keep going that way.'

  Ben and Angelo nodded and the three hurried off again.

  They half walked, half ran. It was difficult to move. The gusts of wind were unpredictable and things were flying in the air. None of them could tell what the debris was, or where it came from, but more than once Ben had to cover his head suddenly to protect himself from some unknown flying object. Now and then he would stop to look behind them: the plane was still burning fiercely and no matter how much distance they put between them and the blazing aircraft, it still seemed to light up the whole sky.

  The wind was whipping itself up into even more of a frenzy now. It felt like the hurricane was getting stronger and closer. 'We need shelter!' Ben shouted as they hurried grimly on. As he spoke, a gust of wind caught the water of the marshland near him and a wave of muddy water splashed over the grassy road, soaking the three of them and knocking Angelo to the ground. Ben and Danny helped him up, and together they carried on going.

  They had been heading west for perhaps fifteen minutes when they noticed the road becoming wider. Up ahead, through the gloom, Ben thought he saw a building of some description. They hurried towards it.

  It was a single-storey structure with a pitched roof. Several of the roof slates had been blown away and had smashed on the ground, but otherwise the building was intact. A big sign had been uprooted and was lying on the road. Ben approached it and read what it said. 'EVERGLADES NATIONAL PARK' it announced in big letters. 'WARDENS' STATION AND INFORMATION CENTER'.

  'Let's get in out of the wind!' Ben shouted. Together they approached the building.

  The main door was open and banging to and fro in the wind. Ben grabbed the edge of it and held it fast while the other two hurried inside. He then pulled it shut. The latch clicked, but he didn't know how long it would hold.

  They found themselves in a single big room. It was completely deserted and it showed signs of having been evacuated quickly. A postcard stand had been knocked over and nobody had bothered to pick it up; a couple of rucksacks were abandoned on the floor. Towards the back of the room there was a long counter with information leaflets stacked up upon it. On two sides of the room there were long, low windows looking out onto the marshland; the remainder of the walls themselves were covered with posters of the various parts of the Everglades. Ben saw images of marshland, thick cypress groves, vast pools and rivers. Under any other circumstances they would have been fascinating and he'd have been chomping at the bit to go and explore the region. Not today, though. Today, this vast natural park felt like the last place on earth he wanted to be.

  He felt like they were the last people on earth too. There was something unbelievably spooky about being alone in a place that had been deserted, and for a while the three of them remained silent, looking around and taking in their new surroundings. The wind was still howling outside, but now they had a bit of shelter it seemed a lot quieter.

  Ben realized he was shivering. His clothes were soaking wet and the wind had blown them cold. 'We should try and find something dry to put on,' he announced as he started rummaging through the rucksacks that had been left on the ground. All he found, however, were some thin waterproof coats. 'I guess we might need these,' he murmured as he handed them round and tried to forget about the way his jeans were clinging clammily to his skin. The other two looked uncomfortable as well. Angelo's long hair was strewn all over his frightened face, and Danny's slicked-back hair was a mess. They, too, shivered with the cold.

  'Look over here,' Angelo said. He was looking at something on one of the walls. Ben and Danny approached and they saw what it was: a map of the park. Towards the bottom of it there was a yellow arrow marked with the words 'YOU ARE HERE'.

  Ben studied the map. The road they were on led to the eastern edge of the park, but to go that way they would have to pass the burning debris of the plane. As the road carried on west, it just seemed to peter out into the marshland. It looked to Ben very much like they were stranded.

  It was as they were staring at the map that a sudden gust of wind shrieked overhead. There was a loud crash as one of the wide windows dramatically shattered. Shards of glass crashed over the inside of the room like a shower of diamonds; the three of them pressed against the opposite wall, thankful that they weren't in range of the exploding window.

  'It's not safe here,' Ben muttered.

  'I don't see that we have much option,' Danny told him. 'It looks like we're cut off on both sides.'

  An ominous silence fell over their little group. Ben edged away from the map and looked at another poster. 'WILDLIFE OF THE EVERGLADES' it read in big, sunny letters across the top; below, there were pictures of different animals. Ben's eyes fell upon the image of an alligator. He read the words under the image of that ugly-looking beast. 'Gators are everywhere in the Everglades,' it read. 'If you see one, keep your distance. You never know if it's had its lunch yet!'

  Under the picture of the alligator was what looked like a big cat. Its fur was a light brown colour, it had sharp, pointed ears and a ferocious look in its eyes. Ben read what the poster had to say about it. 'The Florida Panther is a critically endangered species. There are only thought to be between 80 and 100 panthers left in this part of the world and they avoid humans, so if you see one, you're incredibly lucky.' The panther seemed to stare out of the picture at Ben, who wasn't sure quite how lucky he would feel if he came face to face with one of the animals.

  His eyes only skirted over the third picture. Ever since his trip to the Congo, Ben had had a thing about snakes, and the snake that was depicted here was a big one. 'The Burmese Python,' the text underneath it explained, 'is not native to the United States. Many people, however, keep them as pets. Unfortunately, when they grow too big to be manageable, these snakes are let out into the wild. The Everglades provides a perfect breeding environment for them, and they have thrived and multiplied here. Burmese Pythons can grow up to seven metres long. Even when they are smaller than this, they are perfectly capable of overpowering and killing a fully grown adult!

  Ben shuddered slightly. The very thought of it made him feel a bit faint. He sensed Danny stepping up to him. 'Bit of a day,' his companion observed.

  'Yeah,' Ben said. 'You could say that.'

  'You did an amazing thing in that plane, Ben. If it wasn't for you, everyone would have been killed.'

  Ben shrugged. 'Just fluke,' he said. 'That hijacker was pretty determined.'

  At the thought of the hijacker, something crossed Ben's mind. Since they had escaped the plane, everything had happened so quickly – too quickly, certainly, for him to think too deeply about the events of the last few hours. But as he stood there, he remembered what the hijacker had said before they left the plane. You think you have beaten me, but you haven't.

  He looked over at Angelo, who was sitting on the floor now, hugging his legs. 'Angelo,' he said sharply. 'What do think he meant?'

  Angelo looked at him quizzically. 'Cosa?'

  'The hijacker. All that stuff about not having beaten him.'

  His Italian friend looked thoughtful. 'I don't know,' he mused. 'Maybe—' His eyes widened. 'Maybe there's another plane. Another attack.'

  Ben thought about that for a moment. 'I don't think so,' he said. 'Don't forget, there was a special reason for him
targeting that plane.' He didn't say any more – Angelo had begged him not to reveal to anyone that his dad was the owner of the oil refinery, and he wasn't about to betray that confidence even in front of Danny. 'Do you remember what Brad said, before he—' Ben hesitated. 'Before he died,' he said finally. 'You know, about hijackers working in groups and how it was weird there was just one of them.'

  Angelo looked at him sharply, and so did Danny. 'What do you mean?' the man said.

  Ben took a deep breath as all sorts of thoughts whizzed round his brain. 'Think about it,' he said. 'If you were trying to hijack a plane, would you do it alone?'

  A look of confusion crossed Danny's face. 'Probably not,' he said. 'But if there was someone else, why didn't they do something to help him when it all started to go wrong?'

  'What could they have done?' Angelo butted in. 'They'd have had to take on all of us.'

  They fell silent for a moment as the implication of what they had just said hit them. 'The others,' Ben said a bit breathlessly. 'They could still have one of the hijackers among them. Who knows what they're going to try and do – the other passengers could be in a lot of danger.'

  CRASH! As he spoke, a second window burst in, sending all three of them crouching to the floor for cover. 'What?' Angelo shouted. 'More danger than this?'

  'We've got to warn them!' Ben said, ignoring Angelo's comment. 'He could be planning anything.'

  'Er, Ben,' Angelo pointed out. 'In case you hadn't noticed, there's a blazing plane wreckage between us and them, and we're in the middle of a hurricane. Haven't you saved enough lives for one day?'

  But Ben wasn't listening. He pushed himself up to his feet and rushed over to the counter, his shoes crunching on shards of broken glass as he went. On the counter there were perhaps fifteen different leaflets, all of them advertising something different to do in the Everglades. Ben grabbed them all and started leafing through them. He had skim-read six or seven before he found something that captured his attention.

  'Look at this,' he called to the others. He waved the leaflet in the air and hurried back to them.