We are both pouring with sweat and panting as we drag Johan off the clearing and into the bushes. We work in stops and starts. One, two, three, pull! Then rest. Then one, two, three, pull as we drag him on his back, his head lolling to one side, his shoulder striping the soil with blood, into the seclusion of the undergrowth.

We work as quickly as we can, hiding his body with leaves and branches, then flop to the floor just as a man’s voice echoes around us.

“They came this way.”

I stare at Al in horror.

“Come on,” I whisper, and reach for her hand, but she shakes her head.

“Leave me here.”

“No.”

“Emma.” She pauses to breathe, her face contorting with discomfort. “You go. Get help. I’ll stay here with Johan.”

“You can’t.” Even as I say the words, I know there’s no way that Al’s going anywhere. Moving Johan’s body used every last bit of energy she had. Her lips are blue and she’s fighting to keep her eyes open.

“Don’t tell anyone.” She points towards the cliff edge. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” I touch her on the back of the hand. “But you need to hide. Don’t move until I come back and get you. I will come back for you, Al, I promise.”

The sky is striped with orange, pink and scarlet. The gloom of night has lifted and the birds are singing again, the cicadas chirping merrily in the trees and the men, leaning on the hut, their chins tipped to the sky, are smoking, puffing on their cigarettes with their eyes shut, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces. They start as I draw near. One of them throws his cigarette to the ground and grinds it out with the heel of his boot. Another says something in Nepalese that I don’t understand.

“Please help.” I take a step towards the Maoists. “My friends have been hurt. One of them is dead. The other needs urgent medical help. You have to help me.”

“Huh?” He turns and says something to his friend in Nepalese. His friend shakes his head.

“Two?” He looks back and me and holds two fingers in the air. “Two friends on the mountain?”

“Yes!” I take another step towards them. “Just two. Please, please help. We were attacked and robbed; they stabbed my friend. Please, please help!”

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Present Day

The first thing I do after I get off the phone with Al is Google the name of the hospital that DS Armstrong mentioned.

A link to the Royal Cornhill Hospital immediately appears, and I click on the “About Us” link but it doesn’t tell me much, just that it’s a hospital near the centre of Aberdeen that provides inpatient and outpatient care to people with mental health issues as well as training medical staff who work in the field.