“Jeff had something about him that made people trust him, an air of competence and self-confidence […] He wasn’t as tall as Mathias, or as broad in the shoulders, but despite this, he somehow seemed to be the larger of the two. He had a gravity to him: he was calm, always calm.”

Jeff’s introduction presents him as an archetypal hero from the very start, introducing the theme of The Illusion of Control. He is described as smart and sure of himself, with a presence and “calm” that make it seem as though he is in charge of every situation. This introduction lends insight into why the others trust him so easily on the ruins, defaulting to him in their need for a plan to survive.

“The Greek muttered something in his own language but didn’t wake. The words had an edge to them, though, as if they were an accusation, or a curse, and Eric thought of the smiles the Greeks sometimes exchanged, the sense of shared secrets they gave off. Who are they? he wondered. […] Or Mathias with his mysteriously missing brother, that ominous tattoo, that blank stare. Or—well, why not?—Jeff and Amy and Stacy. Who are they?”

Like Mathias, the Greeks are also presented as a possible antagonist. These thoughts are from Eric on the bus ride as he drifts in and out of sleep. The repetition of the phrase “Who are they?” underscores the idea that no one can ever truly be trusted, creating a sense of unease and discomfort leading into their trip to the ruins. They will all soon be trapped together, relying solely on each other for help despite not truly “knowing” each other.

“Time was stretching itself out—they’d gone too far—and Jeff was beginning to suspect that they’d made an immense mistake, that the man was taking them into the jungle to rob and kill them. He’d rape the girls; he’d shoot them or stab them or smash their skulls with a shovel. He’d feed them to his little dog; he’d bury their bones in the damp earth, and no one would ever hear of them again.”

In the final moments of the truck ride to the path, Jeff has these thoughts. The diction, using dark, gory ideas like “smash[ing] their skulls,” allowing their dog to eat them, and leaving their bodies where no one will find them, creates a strong sense of unease and discomfort. This moment foreshadows the danger the group will experience, building suspense toward the psychological horror of the ruins.

“The heat was like a hand that reached over and wrapped itself around her. At first, it felt nice after the chill of the air conditioning, but then, very quickly, the hand began to squeeze. She was sweating, and there were mosquitoes—hovering, humming, biting.”

When Stacy steps out of the truck, she immediately notices how strong the heat is. Using a simile, the heat is compared to a “hand,” emphasizing its physical presence as it seems to grip the tourists. This comparison underscores the oppressive and dangerous nature of the environment, establishing the feeling of discomfort and disease that will surround the characters on their journey and introducing Nature as an Unknowable and Unstoppable Force.

“Then, with her back to the sun, [Amy] framed them in the viewfinder, goading them into grins—even frownful Mathias. At the last instant, just before Amy pressed the button, Stacy glanced over her shoulder, back down the trail, toward the boys, the dog, the silent village, turning away from the camera.”

Despite feeling uneasy about their trip, Amy attempts to put things behind her by taking photos of the group and convincing herself that everything will be alright. However, in the moment where she creates a happy picture by “goading” the others, Stacy turns away, ruining the picture. Stacy’s motion foreshadows the danger that lies ahead: Despite Amy’s best efforts, she fails to get a picture-perfect moment. At the same time, the things Stacy turns back toward—the foreboding trail, the cautious boys following them, the aggressive dog, and the eerie village—highlight the sense of danger surrounding their trip, as they are unable to fully leave these things behind and pretend everything is alright.

“[The vines] seemed to fold back upon themselves, piling layer upon layer, forming waist-high mounds, tangled knoll-like profusions of green. And everywhere, hanging like bells from the vines, were those brilliant bloodred flowers.”

This is the third description of the vines and the flowers. In the first two, they are described as beautiful, using the description of “brilliant stained-glass red” (45) and “bright red” (50) for the flowers the first two times. Here, the shift in description, as the denseness of the vines is explained as well as the adjective “bloodred” for the flowers, marks a change in the way that the vines are viewed. For the first time, they are seen with a sense of unease, with Eric subconsciously comparing them to blood. Their blood-red color foreshadows how the vines will murder the tourists, hinting at Nature as an Unknowable and Unstoppable Force.

“The screaming filled Eric with a sense of panic. Pablo was down in the hole in the darkness, in terrible pain, and Eric couldn’t think what to do […] [Amy] was shouting, but even so, it was hard to hear her over his screams, which refused to stop, which went on and on and on, without diminishment or pause […] It was a slow process, and he was going about it in [an] excruciatingly methodical manner, as if there were no rush at all, as if he couldn’t even hear the Greek’s screams.”

The sensory imagery of Pablo screaming dominates the group’s efforts to formulate a plan for the mineshaft. This quote emphasizes the psychological horror of the novel and the dilemma of Survival Versus Humanity the characters will now repeatedly face. Since the perspective is omniscient, lending insight into the characters’ thoughts, the narrative reveals just how deeply Eric is impacted by Pablo’s suffering. It is a persistent, endless sound that dominates his thoughts, a fact which underscores the atmosphere of fear and dread.

“It doesn’t matter, he thought. I’ll be alright. It was the sort of empty reassurance only a child would find comforting, and Eric knew this, yet he kept repeating it to himself nonetheless. It was so dark, and there was that cold air pouring across him from the shaft, that watchful presence, and his right shoe was slowly filling with blood, and Pablo’s screaming wouldn’t stop. I’m at the end of my rope, Eric thought. And then, again: It doesn’t matter. I’ll be alright.”

The sense of foreboding in the mineshaft, which once served as a source of hope and potential rescue, is heightened through Eric’s perspective. The repetition of the phrases “it doesn’t matter” and “I’ll be alright” have the exact opposite effect of their intent: They increase Eric’s anxiety rather than providing calm. He underscores this idea through the use of a simile, comparing the words to the “empty” and useless comfort that would help “only a child.”

“Amy had the sudden sense that Jeff had been preparing for something like this all his life—some crisis, some disaster—studying for it, training, reading his books, memorizing his facts. Trailing along behind this thought was the realization that if anyone was going to get them out of here, it would be Jeff.”

Amy’s thoughts emphasize The Illusion of Control through how she perceives Jeff. She sees him as a leader, noting how thoroughly equipped he is to deal with a disaster scenario like this. Her insistence that he has studied, trained, read, and memorized ultimately serve as a hollow source of comfort: Despite all of his planning, he has never experienced a situation like this, instead only providing minimal help to the group.

“Jeff wished he could speak to them, ask them what it was they wanted, why they were keeping him captive on this hillside, what it would take to purchase his freedom, but he didn’t know their language, of course, and doubted, somehow, that they would deign to answer him even if he did. No, they’d just kept staring, weapons raised, waiting.”

This moment, where Jeff watches the Mayans guarding them at the base of the hill, underscores the feeling of isolation and helplessness that the group experiences. His focus on the fact that there is no ability to communicate highlights the larger futility of their situation: They cannot survive a situation that they have no ability to even begin to understand. Here, the Mayans’ antagonism is reinforced, even if they are not acting purely out of malice—their own dilemma reflects the problem of Survival Versus Humanity in the novel.

“Don’t […] twist yourself up. Try to be like an animal. Like a dog. Rest when you have the chance. Eat and drink if there’s food and water. Survive each moment. That’s all.”

Mathias’s words to Stacy evoke Survival Versus Humanity as he urges her to rely only on her animalistic instincts. In this moment, Mathias has a stronger understanding of their situation than the other characters do. He knows that their situation is complex and not easily understood, so he emphasizes the things that they can focus on: Food, water, and survival. As a psychological horror novel, it becomes clear that one of the most dangerous threats to the characters is their own minds, a fact which Mathias understands and tries to help Stacy comprehend.

“You were supposed to breathe through your nose, not your mouth; you lost less moisture that way.

You were supposed to refrain from talking unless it was absolutely necessary.

You were supposed to limit your eating, and avoid alcohol.

You were supposed to sit in the shade, at least twelve inches off the ground.”

These thoughts come from Jeff as he begins to recognize the futility of their situation for the first time. He has seen some of what the vine can do, realized that there is little hope of distilling their urine or finding food, and seen how carefully the Mayans are guarding the hill. The repetition of the words “[y]ou were supposed to” highlight The Illusion of Control by underscoring the disconnect between what he has prepared for and what he is actually experiencing. While he knows that he is “supposed to” do each of these things, he is finding them increasingly difficult as the reality of their situation becomes more clear.

“[Amy had] seen Pablo’s legs stripped free of flesh. Yet all this was so far beyond what she took to be the immutable laws of nature, so far beyond what she knew a plant ought to be capable of, that she couldn’t quite bring herself to accept it.”

Amy’s struggle to understand what she is experiencing with the vines underscores Nature as an Unknowable and Unstoppable Force. She tries to reassure herself that there are “laws of nature,” meaning that the things she is seeing from the vines are not possible and therefore likely not happening. However, these thoughts show her internal conflict over what she is supposed to believe and what she sees, highlighting the parts of nature that humans will never truly know.

“All they’d done was buy [Pablo] some time—not much, maybe another day or two. But it was something, and Jeff believed that he ought to feel proud of himself, that he’d done a brave deed. So he couldn’t understand why he felt so sick at heart, almost breathless with it, as if holding back the threat of tears.”

After Jeff removes Pablo’s legs, he faces an internal conflict over the severity of what he did and his belief in the necessity. These thoughts convey Survival Versus Humanity, best articulated through his feeling of being “so sick at heart.” While he feels that he should be proud of what he did, as it was necessary in his eyes for Pablo’s survival, he also recognizes that he is beginning to lose his humanity through this brutal act.

“The worst part of being out in the clearing wasn’t the sun, or the heat. It was the sound of Pablo’s breathing, which was loud, ragged, oddly irregular. Sometimes it would stop for a stretch of seconds—just fall silent—and, despite herself, Stacy would always end up glancing toward the little lean-to, thinking the same two words: He died. But then, with a rattling gasping rasp that always made her flinch, the Greek’s breathing would resume.”

Here, the omniscient third-person perspective gives insight into Stacy’s thoughts. The psychological terror she experiences lies in Pablo’s continued struggle, making her feel helpless and giving her the feeling that his suffering is engulfing her. This insight creates a sense of foreboding and dread, revealing how her mind is beginning to become overwhelmed by their situation.

“Eric was in trouble, Jeff knew. The cutting, the pacing, the muttering—bad signs, all of them. And his wounds would become infected soon; there was no way Jeff could think of to prevent this […] Jeff didn’t think about the vines—didn’t want to, wouldn’t have known how to. They moved, made sounds; they thought and planned. And worse was yet to come, he suspected, though what this might entail, he couldn’t begin to guess.”

These words underscore the internal conflict that Jeff continues to experience over their situation, highlighting The Illusion of Control. He tries to focus on concrete things that he understands: Eric’s actions and what this means for his mental state. At the same time, he tries to avoid thinking about the vines, as they are something that his mind cannot comprehend and that he could not prepare himself for. Ultimately, these thoughts highlight his true lack of control, as he cannot anticipate or deal with something like sentient, dangerous plants.

“[Amy] lay perfectly still, curled into a fetal position; Jeff assumed she’d fallen back asleep. He knew he was supposed to go to help her now, wipe her clean like an infant, guide her back into the tent. But this was her own fault, wasn’t it? So why should he be the one to pick up the pieces?”

Amy’s death emphasizes the psychological pressure that Jeff places in his role as the de facto leader within the group. As he sees Amy lie back down after vomiting, he uses a simile to describe how she views her, comparing her to an “infant.” Instead, he forces himself to ignore her, wanting her to become stronger and do more for herself so that he can ease some of the pressure he faces in leading the group. However, what he fails to realize is that she is lying that way because the vines are choking her. This moment highlights The Illusion of Control: Jeff tries to control Amy by making her more self-sufficient, when in reality she is dying and he fails to save her.

“Stacy kept gripping Amy’s hand. Somehow this made things easier. She nodded. And so that was what they did. They remained there together, one on either side of Amy’s body, waiting, not speaking, while the earth began its slow tilt toward dawn.”

After Amy’s death—the first in the group—Stacy and Jeff have a moment of quiet togetherness with her body. This moment of calm within the danger of their situation creates an atmosphere of sadness and futility, as the characters are finally grasping the gravity of their situation. Similarly, the final words, “the earth began its slow tilt toward dawn,” creates a sense of inevitability and underscores the cyclical nature of the events, as life will continue despite what they have gone through and will go through.

“Two and a half slices of orange, a small handful of peels. If there’d been five of them still, there’d only be two segments apiece. That Amy’s absence could be measured in such a paltry manner, half a slice of orange, seemed terribly sad to Eric. He put one of the sections into his mouth.”

This moment, where Eric reflects on Amy’s death and what it means for their food rations, conveys Survival Versus Humanity. Despite knowing how “terribly sad” it is, Eric can’t help noting how one less person means more food for the others. This moment underscores the difficulty of their situation: Survival has become paramount even at the sacrifice of their own humanity.

“He was a fool, though; he could see that now. He’d been a fool to cut off Pablo’s legs […] And he’d been a fool—worse than a fool, so much worse—to sit there pouting while, fifteen feet away from him, Amy had choked to death. Even if, through some miracle, he managed to leave this place alive, he couldn’t see how he’d ever be able to survive that memory.”

These thoughts from Jeff, moments before he makes his attempt at escape and dies, emphasize two of the novel’s themes. First, it highlights The Illusion of Control, as Jeff is realizing how little control he has had throughout the ordeal despite his preparedness and confidence. Second, it conveys Survival Versus Humanity. He acknowledges the fact that, even if they somehow survive, they will be irreparably changed as humans by the events they have witnessed and the things that they did.

“[Jeff] hadn’t gone five steps before he sensed motion to his left, one of the Mayans rising to his feet, his bow before him […] He was in motion now, and he wasn’t going to stop.

He heard the man shout.

He’ll miss, Jeff thought. He’ll—

The arrow hit him just below his chin, piercing his throat, entering on the left side, exiting on the right, passing completely through his body. Jeff fell to his knees.”

Jeff’s quick, unemotional death underscores the true horror of the novel as a whole. The character who has been the strongest and the de facto leader, convinced that he would find a way to survive, meets a fate that is shown with little fanfare. At the same time, it underscores The Illusion of Control a final time for his character, as he continues to be convinced that “He’ll miss” even as the villager fires at him.

“The pain was intense—not the cutting, but the drawing forth—it felt as if Mathias were ripping out some essential part of Eric’s body.”

This simile, comparing the vines to something “essential” within Eric, underscores everything Eric’s character has been through in his final moments. As the vine has invaded his body throughout the story, it has now become part of him, truly overtaking him both physically and mentally in a horrific way and reinforcing Nature as an Unknowable and Unstoppable Force.

“There was a ghoul in the clearing—that was what she first thought—some new horror spawned from the mine’s mouth: blood-streaked, naked, wild-eyed, with a knife in its hand. But no, it was Eric. He appeared to have stripped much of his skin off his body. It was hanging from him in shreds; Stacy could see his leg muscles, his abdominals, a glint of bone at his left elbow.”

When Stacy returns and sees what has become of Eric, her description of him—metaphorically comparing him to a “ghoul”—highlights just how much he has eroded throughout the novel. The vivid diction, using words like “blood-streaked,” “shreds,” and “glint of bone,” create a true sense of horror surrounding Eric’s character. These words show the true strength of the vines, fully taking over Eric and leaving Stacy with little hope for her own survival.