Make a run for the car

Amy wants to scream as she stumbles down the slope, in frustration and general anguish at the world. She just doesn’t have the spare breath. Pushing against the waves of wind and rain takes effort. Why did she have to have come so far already…?

But she did come this way. She knows the route. Keep going straight – even as the path threatens to turn into a river. A distant rumble of thunder as the storm worsens.

Come on, Amy. One foot in front of the other. One foot—

Slips. Slides. Gives way. And twists…

A loud yelp, a failed scream, escapes from Amy as she falls. More out of surprise than pain, but— ow. There is pain. Her ankle…

Lightning flashes. A bright flicker through the rain – outlining a tall figure, looming over her, just for a moment…

“Hey — honey, are you okay?”

A woman’s voice. Amy struggles to find her own. Reassessing. Is she safe? Well, she’s wet, lying in the rain. She can sure get safer than this…

“I just – I slipped, I just need to—” She babbles as she tries to clamber up.

A hand takes hers. Soft, strong, and warm. Helping her to her feet.

In the bad light she half-sees her brave rescuer. About the same height as her, skin a rich brown. Deep brown eyes full of concern, beneath the peak of a baseball cap. Which appears to be doing all of nothing to stop her also getting soaked to the skin, as they both stand in the rain…

“My car’s this way!” The other woman’s voice rises above the hiss of the downpour. Leading Amy gently – pressure on her ankle, ow, still hurts – towards the glow of headlights…

Blinded by rain and the glare of lights, Amy can’t see much about the car from the outside. She lets herself be ushered inside, falling into the seat less than elegantly, just relieved to have the weight off her leg.

The interior’s clean, new. Dry. Until Amy got into it. She feels a twinge of guilt. There’s that distinctive air-freshener smell, which she’s going to ruin too. Ugh. Still half-blinded by rain in her eyes, it takes her a moment to realise she’s being spoken to again.

“Can you hear me? What’s your name?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry. I’m here. I’m – my name’s Amy.”

“Amy.” The other woman smiles, relieved. “I’m Sarah. You – look at you, you’re soaked, you must be freezing…”

Amy wants to say “it’s nothing”, but her jaw’s rattling too much for that. She has to just nod.

“We’ve got to get you warmed up.” Sarah does something, and the car is full of the whir of the heater. Amy leans into the flow of warm air, gratefully soaking it in.

For a little while, at least. Soon the hot air is uncomfortable on her face, but the rest of her is still cold.

Sarah appears to notice her discomfort. “This is no good – you won’t get warm like that.” She turns to reach over into the back seat. “I have things you can change – into…”

She trails off, and as Amy wipes water from her eyes, she begins to see why. Sarah is easily taller than her, and a lot slimmer. In the odd car lighting her deep bronze skin shines with toned definition. Meanwhile, Amy’s sodden t-shirt clings to her own body’s curves in a way that must make it very clear to Sarah that the two of them are very different shapes.

“…well, I have a towel.” Tearing her eyes away, Sarah clambers through into the back of the car and starts rummaging.