Page 3 of Escape

“Rubbish,” I reply, pulling on my coat.

“Perfect,” he mutters, his tone dry but his face serious. Jon came out around the same time as me. He is only volunteering with GHHI. We always have doctors who give their time for free to do field work and help out, but they are not staff members and they are somehow treated a bit differently.

Still, we are colleagues, a diverse bunch of people thrown together in a remote location for a few weeks. It is a weird dynamic that develops. You are something that sometimes does feel like friendship, but then you are not. It is hard to describe.

Despite myself, I smile faintly. “Let’s save a life.”

Jon nods, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose. “Let’s go.”

The courtyard is alive with the rush of preparation. The Hilux is ready and waiting, its engine idling softly as Will stands beside it. The sky above is a swirling mess of grey, and the wind cuts sharp against my face, but there’s no room for second thoughts.

The rain lashes against the Hilux, relentless and deafening, like it’s determined to tear the world apart. The windscreen wipers fight a losing battle, each swipe revealing only another curtain of water and blurred outlines of the rugged road ahead.

Arif’s hands are clamped around the wheel, his knuckles pale, his focus unyielding as the truck lurches forward through the mud. I glance at him briefly, the tension in his shoulders enough to confirm what I already know—this road is a nightmare.

I shift in my seat, clutching my phone tighter. It’s a stupid habit, typing out an email to Owen even though I know I won’t be able to send it until we’re back in Khorog. Reception’s non-existent out here. Still, it’s something to focus on. Something that isn’t the gnawing doubt clawing at the back of my mind.

Sorry I had to cut our call short. We are on the road to some remote settlement and the weather is piss poor. Like as bad as the one time you dragged me camping in Scotland. Rememberhow wrinkly our fingers and toes were from being wet all day? Remind me again why I signed up for this job?

I stop typing, my thumb hovering over the screen. My Owen. Some of my friends back home tease me, joking that I’m not in a relationship because I secretly fancy him. And sometimes, I wonder if they might be right... Owen’s the kind of guy who fits the "tall, dark, and handsome" cliché, but he doesn’t know it. He’s a nerd at heart, more likely to be tinkering with his computer than hanging out at parties. His hair is always a bit of a mess, and lately, more and more laugh lines have started to appear around his eyes. Even Mr Hot Nerd can’t hide the fact that we’ve both crossed into our forties. But, somehow, age suits him. It gives him a ruggedness that makes him even more the kind of guy you'd want to snuggle up to. Add that to the fact that he’s the nicest person I know—caring, warm, goofy. He is definitely boyfriend material, yet we are just friends. I don’t know why but it just never seemed like the right moment to take that next step.

My stomach twists, and I shove the phone into my pocket, unwilling to finish the email.

In the driver’s seat, Arif swears under his breath, the truck skidding slightly as it fights for traction.

“Slow it down,” Will says, his voice calm but tense from the passenger seat.

“I know,” Arif snaps, his eyes glued to the road. “Rain is too heavy. Road is getting worse.”

He’s not wrong. The track is more mudslide than road now, snaking dangerously close to the edge of a ridge that drops into black nothingness. Every bump sends a fresh jolt through the truck, and I grip the door handle tighter, trying to stay steady.

Jon sits beside me, clutching his medical bag like it’s a lifeline. His face is set, focused, but there’s a tension in his jaw that matches the storm outside. Neither of us speaks. There’s nothing to say.

I glance out the window, the rain blurring everything into a murky swirl of grey and green. The mountains loom above us, jagged and unforgiving, their peaks lost in the storm. It’s beautiful in a way that makes your chest ache, but today, it just feels ominous.

My thoughts drift back to the girl. What can we really do for her, so far from proper medical facilities? Even with Jon’s skill, the odds aren’t great. But what choice do we have? Leaving her would mean giving up, and that’s not who we are.

The road takes a sharp turn, the truck groaning as it hugs the ridge. My grip tightens as I peer into the rain, scanning the blurred landscape for any sign of danger.

Then I hear it.

A deep, guttural roar, louder than the rain, rumbling through the air like a warning.

“Landslide!” Will shouts, but the word barely registers before the world erupts.

The side of the mountain collapses, a violent surge of mud and rock exploding onto the road. It slams into the Hilux with the force of a freight train, and everything goes sideways.

The truck spins, the tyres skidding helplessly. My shoulder slams into the door, the impact rattling through me as the Hilux tumbles off the track. The world becomes a blur of noise—metal crunching, glass shattering, mud roaring all around us.

When we finally stop, wedged against something solid, my ears ring with the deafening silence that follows.

“Mel!” Jon’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and panicked.

“I’m okay,” I manage, though my voice is shaky. My hands fumble for the door handle, but it’s jammed. I glance around, my breath catching as I take in the state of the truck. The roof’s dented, the windscreen shattered, and everything is slick with mud and rain.

“Arif?” I call, my voice rising.

He’s slumped over the wheel, not moving. My stomach drops, panic surging as I reach for him, but Will’s groan pulls my attention.

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