It was really just a matter of survival. Keep going and keep going and eventually, soon if they were lucky, they would reach a village, a town, a bloody great city with skyscrapers and McDonalds and satellite TV. All right, maybe that was taking things a bit far, pushing their luck to the extreme, but it was a beautiful daydream.

"You all right back there?" called Hitesh loudly, despite his cracked, dry throat, trying to make himself heard over the rushing, roaring river that the canoe was racing along.

Ash nodded, realised Hitesh couldn't see him, and carefully leant forward. "I'm all right," he said, watching the water screaming backwards. "I'd be better if you hadn't lost the paddles, but yeah, not bad. Not bad considering we've got nothing to eat, nothing to drink, the sun is blazing, baking us in this sodding canoe and we are lost in the jungle." He sat back, satisfied he had made his point.

Hitesh shrugged. "Could be worse. Like I said, we're bound to come to civilisation sooner or later, right? Right." He clung on to the sides of the canoe, praying he really was right.

Hitesh heard the waterfall before he saw it. He heard it before Ash did. He realised this was his last chance to get the final word in and he desperately wanted to say something profound before they died. He turned to his friend, steeled himself, and took a deep breath. "Shit," he said.