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to run with him, soon overtaking him. There were shouts and more gunfire. Pascal felt himself ducking automatically every time the shots rang out, though he had no idea if they were aimed at him. His legs and lungs were soon protesting. A small part of him wanted to give up and take whatever was coming, anything rather than go through the agony of trying to keep up with Olivier. Even Kamil had fallen behind him again now.
    And then Pascal noticed that it had gone quiet. Deadly quiet. Ahead of them, Olivier kept running, but more slowly, and turned every so often to look around. At last, he stopped.
    ‘I think we’ve lost them,’ he puffed. ‘I can’t hear anything any more.’
    ‘How do you know it was us they were after? How do you know they weren’t on our side?’ Pascal asked.
    ‘It won’t be us they were after,’ Olivier replied. ‘But we don’t want to risk being caught, do we?’
    ‘But what if it was someone coming to find us?’
    ‘Pascal, nobody’s looking for us. Not now. Not yet.’
    Pascal knew he was right, but he struggled to cope with the thought that they were all alone.
    ‘They’re all dead.’ Kamil spoke for the first time. ‘All of them. Dead.’
    ‘Shut up, Kamil,’ Olivier hissed. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    ‘Bang, bang, you’re dead!’ Kamil snorted.
    A bullet smacked into a tree in front of them. Two men broke through a distant cover of bushes and headed towards them, shouting at them to stay where they were.
    ‘Run!’ Olivier shouted.
    Pascal froze for a moment, then began to run for his life. Kamil didn’t move. Olivier yelled at him to follow but, as the men drew closer to him, Kamil fell to his knees and started to sob and plead and beg them to spare him. Pascal faltered, but his cousin spurred him on.
    ‘We’ll have to leave him. We’ve got no choice,’ Olivier insisted.
    Pascal’s last view of Kamil was of the two rebels, one on either side of him, lifting him up and half dragging, half carrying him away. Kamil was screaming.

Chapter 16
    Several hours passed by. Pascal and Olivier squatted under an overhanging rock, screened by a mesh of brambles and vines. Neither of them spoke. They were too exhausted and distraught. The only sound they could hear was a nearby waterfall. They had plunged into it briefly in an effort to revive themselves. Pascal had wanted to stay there with the water beating mercilessly on his head, emptying it of everything, but Olivier had pulled him away to hide. Now its uninterrupted whoosh and burble was somehow comforting, yet it was a danger to them because it stifled any other noise.
    They both must have closed their eyes, for Pascal received no warning from Olivier that anything was wrong. Now something was prodding him in the stomach. He went to push it away and felt something cold and hard. He opened his eyes to find a rifle pressed against him and a man staring down at him. Another man was threatening Olivier.
    ‘How sweet you looked,’ one of the men said, grinning broadly.
    ‘Stand up slowly and put your hands in the air,’ ordered the other.
    Olivier and Pascal looked at each other in horror, then did as they were told. The men frisked them, before tying their hands behind their backs.
    ‘I’m Seb, he’s Gustav,’ the first one said. ‘Do as we say and you won’t get hurt. Now start walking.’
    Pascal was sure he was going to die and began to whimper as they trooped along in front of the two men.
    ‘Shut that noise,’ Gustav growled.
    He pushed Pascal forward with his rifle butt. The boys heard a match being struck and tensed, expecting something bad. Seb overtook them and shoved a cigarette into Pascal’s mouth.
    ‘Suck,’ he said.
    Pascal sucked. The smoke caught the back of his throat. He coughed violently, spitting the cigarette out.
    ‘Steady,’ chuckled Seb. He picked up the cigarette and put it in his own mouth. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Stopped you from crying,