He redialed the number, only to be met with a hang-up and a new address.
Neville searched online and located the camp-not far from the airport.
“Miley’s waiting for you in Norman Camping Area.”
Neville’s face hadn’t softened since the receiving the message.
The expressway jam remained, but he couldn’t risk another delay. If he arrived later, Miley’s fate would be even more unpredictable.
He hurried to a nearby car booth and rented a car.
“This weather’s pretty bad! Seamarsh hasn’t seen rain like this in ages. Where you headed?” The owner sounded worried.
Straight-faced, Neville answered, “Norman Camping Area.”
“What? Now? It’s a downpour. The mountain roads are treacherous; you might encounter mudslides! Wait for the weather to break before camping. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Neville scowled. He knew the dangers. But he had to go, for Miley.
Hesitantly, he left Matthew’s contact with the owner. “If I’m not back in two hours, call him. He’ll handle things.”
With that, he sped away from the airport, leaving the owner to sigh and mutter, “Why is he so determined? I can only hope he makes it back.”
The rain intensified, making the road increasingly slippery for Neville. Navigating the middle of the hillside proved difficult.
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He drove cautiously, his concern for Miley growing.
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Suddenly, the car lurched violently.
Neville pounded the steering wheel, but the vehicle had stalled completely, refusing to restart.
Time was of the essence, and he couldn’t afford to waste a single minute.
Despite the heavy rain, he exited the car to inspect the situation.
The car was completely stuck in the mud.
Without hesitation, Neville abandoned the vehicle, grabbed his backpack, and ascended the hillside on foot.
Navigating the rainy terrain in leather shoes was even harder.
Neville trudged through muddy paths, his coat snagging on branches, but he paid little attention to the discomfort.
His steps were fueled by urgency. Finding Miley was all he cared about.
In his haste, Neville slipped and tumbled down a steep slope.