Jun 18, 2019, France.

He lay curled in a fetal position against the jagged mountain wall, his body trembling uncontrollably despite the thin windbreaker clinging to him. The first rays of morning light began to creep over the horizon, gilding the opposite canyon with a surreal glow. It would have been beautiful, if not for the dull, incessant throb in his head, a constant reminder of last night’s ordeal. His thoughts were clearer now, but hunger, thirst, cold, and pain had nearly driven him to madness in the darkness. He had been on the verge of throwing himself into the river below just to escape the torment.

The chocolate bar he had rationed through the night was long gone, and his throat felt like sandpaper, rasping with every breath. Sunlight would warm his skin eventually, but what of the thirst gnawing at his sanity?

Forcing himself upright, he leaned against the cold, rough stone, surveying his surroundings with bleary eyes. Then, a flicker of movement caught the edge of his vision—a shadow, almost a hundred yards away, shifting. He blinked hard, convinced it was a mirage, a trick of his dehydrated mind.

But no, it wasn’t. A figure—a girl, no older than him—stood at the canyon’s edge, gazing down at him with an unreadable expression. His heart pounded erratically, a mixture of hope and desperation surging within him. He tried to call out, but the only sound that escaped was a strangled croak. Panicking, he tore off his windbreaker and waved it above his head like a flag, his good arm straining with the effort.

She stood there, unmoving, for what felt like an eternity. Then, without a word, she turned and vanished.

Despair crashed over him. She had seen him, he was certain, but she had just... disappeared. Was he imagining all of this? Had the nightmare continued in his waking hours?

It was an age—perhaps a few minutes, perhaps hours—before she returned, kneeling at the cliff edge directly above him. This time, she was closer, her eyes locking onto his.

“I’ve broken my hand,” he rasped, words barely scraping from his cracked lips. “Been stuck here since yesterday. I’m dying of thirst. Please, call for help. I... I don’t have much time.”

She gave a quick nod, her face calm. “I won’t take long. Hold on.”

With that, she disappeared again.

He slumped back against the stone, shivering uncontrollably. Odd, he thought. She was Asian, but her accent was refined, crisp, unmistakably British—Oxford, perhaps. What was a woman like her doing here, in this remote and desolate place? And how long would she take to find help?

He knew the landscape well enough. There were no villages or towns in the vicinity. The narrow road to La Milline was a grueling trek. If she returned with help within four hours, he’d consider himself fortunate. But the gnawing cold was relentless, sinking into his bones, reminding him of another night—one spent trapped in a cave called Lankester Hole. His body had barely survived that ordeal; would he survive this?

After what seemed like ten minutes, she appeared again. This time, she wasn’t alone. She was climbing down, deftly maneuvering along a cable with the ease of a seasoned climber. A rucksack, now bulging with supplies, was strapped to her back.

“What the hell!” He barely had the strength to shout, his frustration palpable. “I told you to get help, not come back here alone. How do you expect to pull me up?”

She remained unfazed, placing the rucksack on the ground and calmly unpacking its contents. “My car is parked a quarter-mile from here. I got what I needed. Don’t worry. Getting you up is my job.”

Her movements were precise, methodical. She pulled out a first-aid kit and placed her hand on his forehead, assessing his temperature before feeling his pulse.

“Did you hit your head?” she asked, her voice steady.

He nodded weakly, his initial anger melting away in the face of her calm. “Yes, I blacked out as soon as I fell. It’s all a blur now... I keep passing out. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

She leaned closer, inspecting his ears, nose, and mouth with a practiced hand.

“No bleeding, no signs of a skull fracture,” she muttered, gently running her fingers over his scalp until they paused just above his left ear, finding a swelling. Her touch was delicate, almost soothing.

“You’ll need an X-ray eventually, but you’re lucky. Your hand seems to have taken the worst of it.” She reached into her bag again and pulled out a sandwich, some raisins, and a small flask. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

He devoured the food greedily, watching as she soaked a bandage in some clear liquid and began wrapping his wrist.

“Are you a doctor?” he asked, incredulous.

“No, just someone who learned a few things.” Her smile was fleeting, focused more on the task at hand. “My name’s Ailee, by the way.”

“I’m Park Min Jun,” he replied between bites. “Call me Min Jun.”

She barely acknowledged him, continuing her work with steady hands. “How did you fall?”

“I was out for a walk, staying at an inn in Saint Shelly. I wanted to see the river before it got too late, but I leaned too far over the edge and... well, here I am.”

Ailee’s brow furrowed slightly. “Did you happen to see a car fall into the river yesterday? Ash-colored Fiat, two passengers?”

“No, I... I must’ve been unconscious then. How far did it fall?”

“Far enough,” she replied, her voice tight.

Min Jun shivered, his grip tightening around the warm flask as Ailee’s words hung in the air like a shadow. There was something else going on here—something darker than he realized.

"Regain your strength a bit. We'll think about getting you up after that," Ailee said as she leaned back against the rugged stone wall.

Min Jun could feel the warmth slowly returning to his body, spreading through him like fire as he sipped the strong, brandy-laced coffee. The dull ache in his head started to subside, replaced by a fleeting sense of calm, though his arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

"How did you end up here?" he asked, his voice hoarse, eyes squinting at her.

"Drove from La Manille," she replied casually, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "Parked my car in the jungle a quarter-mile from here. The last few miles are a rough drive, so I had to walk the rest of the way."

Min Jun raised an eyebrow. "Walked? Alone? Out here? You must be crazy."

Ailee simply shrugged, unfazed. "I came to see the river."

He scoffed but was too exhausted to press the matter. Instead, he observed her with growing curiosity. The quiet, almost indifferent way she moved, her poised confidence—it was unsettling how at ease she seemed, given the circumstances.

"You seem steadier now," she noted, glancing at him before pulling out a makeshift sling from her rucksack. "Let’s get your arm secured. After that, walk around a little to loosen up. I’ve got a cross din hammer in the car. The wall's about eighteen feet high—there are a few natural footholds, but I’ll make them easier for you to grip. I’ll climb first and guide you. We’ll use the cable for safety."

Min Jun’s lips twisted into a dry, bitter smile. "You’ve got the strength, no doubt about it, but I’d prefer not to take another tumble."

Ailee’s calm eyes met his. "Trust me. I won’t let that happen."

After securing him in the makeshift harness and bracing the cable around her body, Ailee positioned herself at the edge of the cliff. Min Jun began to ascend, his movements slow and deliberate, his body protesting with every pull. The wind was biting again, gnawing at his resolve.

Halfway up, his legs buckled, and for a moment, he felt the unforgiving grip of gravity. He let out a strangled cry, clutching at the wall, but Ailee’s firm grip on the cable held him steady.

"Don’t give up," her voice echoed above him, calm yet commanding. "Take your time. You’ve got this."

Gritting his teeth against the pain and cold, Min Jun forced himself onward. Every muscle screamed, but after what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the edge. Ailee hauled him up with a surprising strength, pulling him to safety.

He collapsed onto the rocky ground, panting, his body trembling from the effort. Through bleary eyes, he saw Ailee’s hands—bloodied, raw from the strain of holding the cable. Sweat gleamed on her forehead, her breath shallow but steady.

"I caused you so much trouble," he rasped, guilt tightening his chest.

Ailee shook her head, wiping her hands on her shirt. "Don’t worry about it. Do you need a moment before we head to the car?"

Min Jun nodded weakly. "Yes, please."

The short walk to the car proved more challenging than he expected. His strength gave out after a mere fifty yards, forcing him to lean heavily on Ailee for support. She practically carried him the rest of the way, though she made no complaint. Once at the car, she gently eased him into the passenger seat, her eyes assessing him for any signs of worsening injury.

"Anything else bothering you?" she asked as she handed him a bottle of water.

He took it gratefully, wincing as he drank too quickly. "Just the thirst. And… maybe a little too much pride," he added with a strained smile.

Ailee glanced at him, her expression unreadable. Something about Min Jun’s story wasn’t sitting right with her. The way he evaded her questions, the uncertainty in his answers—it all felt off. He claimed to be just a traveler, but there was a tension in him, a guardedness that suggested more.

And then there was the accident. The ash-colored Fiat that had plunged into the river. Two passengers… What was Min Jun really doing here? Did he know more than he was letting on?

She turned these thoughts over in her mind, weighing her options. Should she take him to a hospital in La Manille, or report the situation to the authorities? It would take time to explain everything, and she had her own reasons for needing to leave. Yet something gnawed at her—something wasn’t right.

The car jolted slightly as they drove along the rough terrain, but once the road evened out, Ailee sped up, her mind still churning with questions. They were making decent time when something in the distance caught her eye. A black car, still a few miles away but unmistakably heading in their direction. She frowned.

Without a word, she pulled the car to a halt, her senses on high alert. From the glove compartment, she retrieved a pair of field glasses and peered through them.

Her heart skipped a beat.

A man stepped out of the black car, field glasses in hand, scanning the road—scanning them. Two more figures remained inside the vehicle.

Ailee felt the prickle of danger.

She nudged Min Jun, who was dozing off beside her. "Do you have any friends around here?"

His head snapped up, alarm flashing in his eyes. "Friends? No."

Her voice dropped to a calmness, taut with suspicion. " Then enemies?"