Alan’s dropped his phone

It’s me Joseph! So I finally make it inside the camp, I look around and realise I don’t know who to turn to or what to do. The huts all look the same and the camp is so huge. I’m completely lost and alone. I don’t care who sees me, I just sit down on the spot and cry like a little kid. Then I look up and I see the journalist, Alan. I spoke to him a few days ago about how the Red Cross is trying to trace my mum. He’s writing about people like me who are looking for their families in the camps. He’s the one who said the messenger was coming to Hopetown today. Alan himself had just arrived too and he was talking to a guy who looked a community leader. I know Alan can help me and so I interrupt and he recognises me. I think my moment has come and I’m just about to ask him to help me find the Red Cross messenger when there’s a sudden burst of gunfire in the forest to the West. These days we don’t hear gunfire all the time like we used to but just the sound is enough to send everyone in the camp into panic. Alan reaches into his bag; he’s hitting his satellite phone and swearing at it. I ask him what’s wrong with his phone and he says it’s useless; it’s meant to be a GPS videophone but the signal keeps cutting out. I try to get Alan further into the camp saying we should get away from the gunfire when really I want him to get on the Internet with his phone. He’s not listening though, with his old camera he’s running towards the gunfire and he drops his phone. I pick up the phone and when I look up, he’s gone. So I’m left holding the satellite phone. I give it a thump and it comes alive.