She racked her brains and suddenly her uncle's home phone number popped into her head. Amber gasped with relief as she punched the numbers into the keypad with a trembling finger. She pressed the 'send' button and waited, imagining the signal heading up into space, hitting the satellite then bouncing down again to connect with the US public telephone system half a world away.

The phone began to ring in her uncle's house in New York and she hugged herself with excitement. She could not wait to hear his voice. There was a click as the phone was picked up.

'Hello?' she said eagerly. 'Hello?'

It was not her uncle on the other end. Instead she heard the warm, southern accent of his live-in housekeeper. Of course, thought Amber. Her uncle would not be at home. He would have flown out to Indonesia as soon as he heard she was missing.

'Roseanne,' she said, breathlessly. 'It's me, Amber!'

The housekeeper continued to talk.'… leave your name and number and we will get back to you.'

It was the answer-machine.

'Roseanne,' tried Amber again. 'Pick up if you're there, will you? It's me. It's Amber.'

There was silence from the other end. Amber stared down at the digital display on the phone base. The time flashed back at her in green numbers. 14:05. Her eyes widened as an awful realization hit her. If it was two in the afternoon here, that meant it was still the middle of the night in New York. Roseanne was not picking up the phone because she was fast asleep in bed.

The answer-machine clicked off. Amber swore and hit the re-dial button. She had to try again. She had to leave a clear message with as much information as she could. Impatiently, she glanced up at the mirror wall as she waited for the satellite to connect her. 'Come on! Come-'

She froze, staring into the mirror. A head with tousled, black hair was slowly rising above the back of the leather sofa in the room behind her. A hand, clutching a half-empty bottle of brandy, flopped into view. Then a second hand appeared, holding a knife with a wickedly curved blade. With horror, Amber realized that the boat was not deserted after all. The pirates had left a guard on board.

Slowly she lowered the handset and placed it gently on the table. Silently she began to edge towards the glass doors that led to the deck. The guard's drunken, flushed face appeared above the back of the sofa, his eyes squeezed shut against the sunlight. He groaned, belched, and was about to sink back down into the cushions, when a tinny but clear ringing tone began to sound from the earpiece of the handset.

The guard's eyes snapped open as Roseanne's southern drawl filled the quiet saloon. 'This is the Middleton Residence. Please leave your name and number…'

Amber ran for the glass doors as the pirate launched himself over the back of the sofa at her. The bottle flew from his hand and twisted through the air, spraying brandy everywhere. He thudded to the carpet and grabbed her by the ankle, still clutching the knife in his other hand. Amber stamped on his arm, grinding her heel into the crook of his elbow. The pirate grunted in pain and let go of her ankle, but his knife arm was swinging towards her legs.

Amber jumped high in the air, lifting her heels up behind her, and the knife swished by. She landed, staggered, then righted herself and once again ran for the door. The pirate guard was clambering to his feet behind her as she struggled with the sliding door. She could see him in the glass as he focused on her back and raised his knife above his head.

'Please, please, please…' she begged as her sweaty fingers slipped from the door handle yet again. 'Please open.'

The guard charged just as Amber finally got a grip on the handle and pulled. The vacuum seal held for a second longer, then the door slid open and she was out onto the deck. She ran for the ladder but the man was close on her heels. He raised the knife above his head and, instinctively, she ducked down onto the deck.

The man could not stop himself in time. He crashed into Amber, crushing her against the deck rail. His feet flew out from under him and he soared into the air above her crouching back, then carried on over the deck rail and down into the water on the seaward side of the yacht.

It took Amber a while to clamber to her feet and pull some breath into her winded lungs. She looked over the rail as the man surfaced. His face was full of fear as he stared up into her eyes. He looked over his shoulder as a grey dorsal fin rose out of the sea behind him, then he turned back and gazed up into Amber's face, pleading silently for help.

With a sob, Amber grabbed the lifebelt from the deck rail and threw it into the sea. The man reached out and hooked his arm over it just as the great white slammed into his back with its mouth wide open. The jaws closed over his head and chest and bit down. The water turned red as the shark shook back and forth. When it pulled away, the man's head and chest were gone. His arm remained, still hooked over the lifebelt as it bobbed on the surface.

As Amber stood frozen on the deck, the second shark appeared, grabbed the arm and the lifebelt together and swallowed them down. Then both sharks dived, going after the rest of the body. The whole dreadful scene had been acted out in virtual silence.

Amber choked back her sobs as she realized that she had to swim for it – now, while the sharks were still occupied with the remains of the pirate. She shinned down the ladder to the boarding platform and glanced quickly at the beach, half expecting to see two loaded rifles pointing at her. The other pirates were still lounging casually on the side of the motor launch. They had seen and heard nothing. Silently Amber slid into the water and headed for the shore.

Behind her in the quiet, air-conditioned saloon, the light on the satellite phone blinked as it kept following the redial instruction, connecting again and again to an answer-machine in New York.

TWENTY-FIVE

In the rainforest base. Paulo sat with Li, one arm cupped around her shoulders. Alex knelt beside the stretcher, dipping a corner of the bunk blanket into a water-filled coconut shell and sponging Hex's face and chest with it. Around them, the rainforest engine hummed, but they were silent, apart from Li's soft sobbing and the occasional fever-fuelled murmur from Hex. Nobody looked up to see what rustled in the undergrowth between the forest and the beach. Amber's shirt, shorts and belt pouch had been folded neatly and placed on top of her boots in the middle of the clearing and that sad little pile was taking all their attention.

'Omega,' said Paulo, staring at the little twist of gold lying on top of Amber's shirt. 'The end.'

'Hey,' said a familiar voice behind them. 'What does a girl have to do to get some food around here?'

Three heads jerked up in unison and three faces turned towards Amber, each filled with incredulous joy. A second later, she was squashed in the middle of a three-sided bear hug.

'Whoa! Back off!' she hissed. 'Mind the drugs! Don't squash the drugs!'

'You got them?' said Alex, grabbing her by the shoulders, holding her at arm's-length to look into her eyes.

Amber patted the dripping plastic bag which hung at her neck and Alex took her face between his hands and kissed her full on the mouth.

'Wow!' said Amber. 'I must swim in shark-infested waters more often.'

'We thought you were dead,' said Paulo, grinning hugely. 'We thought the sharks had eaten you.'

'Sheesh,' sneered Amber. 'It'd take more than three sharks to get rid of me. Now, let me through to Hex. I need to get these antibiotics into him. And I meant what I said earlier. I have to eat. Now.'

Paulo looked more closely at Amber, noting the sweaty face and the greyness around the mouth. 'Me and Li will go and find you something,' he said.