“I have no idea,” he replied before flinging the door open and getting out. I did the same. The dust from the dirt road settled on my hair and clothes. The buzz of the Christmas beetles was deafening and I could feel the sun, low in the sky, scorching my back through my T-shirt. Chris slammed down the bonnet with a growl. There was a suspicious-looking trail of steam – or was it smoke? – coming from the engine.
“What now?” I dared. He lifted his head to look at me and his eyes reflected what I already knew: we were in the middle of nowhere with a dead car and no cellphone reception. Stuck. I ran my eyes over the surroundings. The landscape was filled with empty plains and rolling hills. But what was that? There was a small dot perched on top of one of the hills. I squinted against the harsh rays of the sun, but it seemed to have disappeared.
I sighed in frustration and leaned against the dusty outer shell of the car. Just then, the sun dipped below the horizon. “Come look at this,” said Chris. I went over to where he was standing and followed his gaze. My heart swelled with hope when I saw the small structure on top of a hill. So that little dot had not been a figment of my imagination after all. I almost kicked myself for ignoring it before. Now, when it was silhouetted against the orange sky, it was easier to make out.
We went back to the car and grabbed our water bottles, the few snacks we had brought along and torches. The darkness was growing steadily. We set off in the direction of the house.
After a good half an hour's walk, we arrived at the front door of the cottage. In the darkness, I could just make out simple light-coloured walls and a thatch roof. I began to have my doubts about this. I wondered who lived there. Would they be willing to help us? Chris knocked on the door and after a few seconds, it opened, spilling light onto the dusty ground.
The stunningly beautiful woman standing in the doorway was smiling broadly – almost too broadly. “Please, come in. We've been expecting you.”