I let the car drive me towards the mountain; Binks the instructor didn’t say much but whistled a tune,

“So where are you from?” I asked when the tune was on its fourth repeat,

“Here and there,” he replied,

“So you’re Swiss?” I asked, I couldn’t place his accent,

“You could say that,” he smiled at me and then looked back to the road; I sighed and looked back out the window. A few minutes later we slowed, “I gotta just check something in the boot,”

“Sure,” I said, we slowed on the bumpy track and he got out, the 4x4 was one of the truck ones, I watched the man disappear in the wing mirror, I heard the truck doors open, I heard voices. A few moments later he got back in the car,

“What… I mean who is back there?” I asked, he turned the ignition, “Who?” I pressed,

“Two girls,” he replied and winked dramatically at me, my facial features gave no hint of amusement,

“What?” I spat,

“They’re… friends,” he said, I narrowed my eyes,

“Are they safe?” I asked,

“I was just checking, they’re fine,” Binks looked guilty,

“Why don’t they sit in these seats?” I pointed at the row of seats behind me,

“There are seats back there,” he said. I wasn’t buying it but if we were going to spend a fortnight with this ski instructor I wanted to do the black runs, and therefore I wanted to be on his good side. With this in mind I decided to bring up conversation,

“Do you like skiing?” I asked, Binks smirked,

“Why would I be an instructor if I didn’t?” he asked, I smiled,

“What’s your real name?” I asked, he narrowed his eyes,

“Just call me Binks, Mr Binks,” he replied,

“How much longer?” I asked,

“Just to the mountain.” He replied,

“What’s it called?” I asked,

“Monte Rosa, the largest in Switzerland,” he replied,

“And we’re staying on the mountain?” I was playing it dumb,

“Yes,” I was ready for this response,

“STOP!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, the tone of my voice and my body movement made him think twice, he slammed the breaks on and at the same time I opened the door and jumped out. I didn’t look back as I jumped over a pile of snow, I made it to a tourist path where the snow had melted after the long winter, I scrambled up the rocky, grassy path. I heard footsteps behind me; I pushed myself even further forward, the landscape seemed to be passing me at a much faster pace, as if I were on a train. I felt the wind in my hair and closed my eyes, this was a supernatural experience, it was like I was running at the speed of sound. My foot caught something solid, my ankle clicked into another position and a crippling pain thundered up my leg as my hurt foot landed on the ground again. My ankle failed and I fell forward, due to the speed I was running at I continued to slide after I hit the floor. The sharp stones and rocks jarred deep into my skin, my head hit a boulder and I lay on the path limp. I could feel my pulse in my head and I could feel cool blood trickling down my face, I sat up and saw the state of my ripped clothes. I rested against the boulder and got my breath back, I couldn’t have been running that fast but I could only just see Binks pursuing me from the lower path. You see I knew we weren’t staying anywhere near Monte Rosa, it had all added up, this man was not good. I rolled over and tried to get up, I had forgotten my ankle, it cracked and I fell back onto the ground, my head hit that flipping boulder again and I went out. Out cold.


I opened my eyes into darkness; I blinked, still darkness,

“I think he’s awake,” came an American voice, I groaned,

“He most certainly is,” came another much more English voice, I sat up slowly and rubbed my head, it felt sticky.


“Can you hear us?” the British girl asked,

“Mmmm,” I replied half concussed,

“He’s British I can tell,” came the American voice,

“I’m… I’m from Harrogate,” I said, the American giggled,

“I love your accent,” she said through the darkness.

“It’s not quite as Yorkshire bred as some, I’m pretty posh compared to my friends,” I replied, I sat myself up against the side of the dark wobbling room. “What happened?” I asked,

“We were both the same,” came the American voice, “I’m Emma by the way,” she said, “It was a man called Mr Binks, he injected us with some poison and next thing we knew we’re in here, then we’re travelling for miles and then we stop, we start again, we stop and he comes and checks on us, then we get battered as he screeches to a stop.”

“We tried to get out then, it was locked…” voice the British girl,

“Then you get thrown in, you don’t look too good, we tried to wipe the blood off, we thought you were dead.”

“Anyway,” the British girl interrupted obviously embarrassed by the melodrama, “then it gets dark and then you wake up,”

“Right.” I replied shortly, “And do you know what’s happening?”

“No,” they both replied.

“What’s your name?” Emma asked,

“I’m Seph, Seph Lawrence,” I replied,

“I’m Skye,” the British girl said, I could hear the smile in her voice, even if I couldn’t see it.

The End

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