I sneak a glance at Al, who’s standing right beside me. Her pupils are huge black pools; her cheeks are pinched, with sweat beading above her eyebrows. She’s staring at the pile of logs we rolled onto Gabe to hide his body. She steps towards the log pile but I grab her wrist, just as the front gate squeaks open and Johan mutters something in Swedish under his breath.

“Come on.” He ushers us outside. “Go.” He pulls it shut behind us, and then gestures towards the stone steps that lead back down the mountain. “As quickly as you can.”

We step into the darkness, the only light the haze of the half moon. I glance back at Ekanta Yatra – at the faded prayer flags that adorn each of the windows. They flutter and twist in the wind, but there’s no escape; they’re pinned in place, held tight.

“Run!” Johan hisses in my ear. “Emma, run.”

We’ve been running for some time, stumbling down the steps two at a time, speeding round corners and jumping over buried roots, when I realise I can no longer hear Al behind me.

“Johan!”

He continues to run, a good hundred feet ahead of me, so I raise my voice. “Johan!”

He whips round, teeth gritted, and gestures for me to keep my voice down.

“Al.” I gesture back up the mountain. Trees and bushes loom like dark shadows either side of the steps. “She’s disappeared.”

Without saying a word Johan takes off back up the mountain, pumping his arms, and leaping up the steps two at a time. I follow. I run as fast as I can after him, but my flip-flops slow me down and the cold night air catches in my chest, making each breath tight and painful.

I see them as I round the first corner, Al standing with her back to a tree, doubled over with her hands on her knees, Johan beside her, one hand on her back.

“Asthma,” he mouths as I draw closer.

“Al.” I crouch beside her. Her forehead is dripping with sweat and she’s breathing shallowly. She screws up her face in discomfort each time she inhales. “Have you got your inhaler?”

She shakes her head and mouths the word “backpack”.

Johan’s shoulders slump and he rubs a hand over the side of his face.

There’s no way we can go back to the house for Al’s inhaler. The alternative is climbing further up the mountain to see if one of the hostels have any hikers with inhalers, but there’s little chance Al could make it. We’d have to split up. One of us would have to stay here with her while the other went for help.

I make a decision and stand up. “I’m going to see if I can find a hostel nearer the top. Someone might have an inhaler.”