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Zayn held on to the rods that supported the seat. The bus continued to swerve at unpredictable tangents. Thrashing about in an uncontrolled manner, he kept losing his hold on the iron rods. A faint scream reached his ears over the howling wind. He opened one eye a blink. Appalled, he realized the girl in the weird dress was no longer clinging onto the pole.
The wind whipped at him, yanking at his body into the whirlpool. Zayn bent his elbows to pull himself away from the door. The bus skidded again. Something heavy landed on his head and slid across his body. Much to his dismay, he experienced a forceful tug away from the seat.
Zayn's gaze shot down.
Oh no!
The bag that had dropped onto his head mere seconds ago, was now flying and banging in the doorway; its strap having gotten caught around his foot. Zayn tried to rid himself of the weight by twisting his ankle but it was heavy, and the whipping wind was making things hard.
Driving around a bend, the wheels of the bus skidded on the wet road yet again. A crack above snapped his attention to the luggage rack overhead. A heavy suitcase was inching on its way out, much to his horror. Before Zayn could even formulate the thought of somehow moving out of the way, the heavy weight had already crashed on his head. The anguish cry that escaped his lips mixed with the noisy wind, and pain shot through his skull like it had cracked open. Blinded, he lost his grip, and got thrown down the steps. He impulsively grabbed at the suitcase stuck in the door-frame. However, his body ramming into the case knocked it free. A split second realization occurred. He was about to fall to his death with the slipping suitcase. Terrified, he made a desperate attempt to switch his hold onto the frame of the bus.
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
The speeding bus knocked his fingers away. Intense pain shot through the digits of his right hand. Zayn's eyes widened catching just a blur with the bus zooming past him. A deafening scream left his throat. His cry was cut short, however, when all breath was knocked out of his system. Surprisingly, he bounced off a surface instead of painfully crashing to his death, but before he could comprehend what was happening, he was already shooting down the slope.
The wind blew Zayn's hair into his face. It took him sometime to realize, his crazy fall was causing him no physical damage. He forced opened his eyes, just enough to peek through his lashes. The green and brown of the ground below was blurring away as he somehow floated over it. Seeing his fingers clinging around a grey, gauze imprinted surface, Zayn realized he was still straddling the suitcase. Branches slapped him upside the head, making him duck and flatten against the case. He tucked his elbows in, in fear of getting knocked by a tree trunk or a jutting piece of rock. Although it threw him out of the bus, the case plummeting down the steep slope was cushioning his fall.
Until, the slope cut to sheer drop of no less than twenty feet. The suitcase jerked to an abrupt halt with its handle getting caught onto a branch it had just snapped. The sudden break shot Zayn straight out into the air. Then, like a pancake, he flipped midair. His body floated over nothing before nosediving. Blood rushed to his brain and his ears muted out. With his eyes popping out with fear, he plunged headfirst to the thick forest below. The fast approaching branches of an oak tree were about to slap him in the face. His vision darkened just as he felt a faint rush of leaves. He was mostly unconscious by then. His eyes went in and out of focus. He slammed on the fork of a stout branch that was enveloped in a cloud of a thick, green foliage. Zayn was only vaguely aware of his breath getting knocked out, before he passed out completely.
***
"Hey." Someone patted Asim's cheek. "Mate, wake up."
He opened his eyes slowly.
"You okay?" the same voice asked him.
Asim blinked. His vision was foggy. The interior of the bus slowly came into focus. A guy with brown hair and glasses was bent over him.
"Is anyone else in there?" Asim heard someone shout from the front.
"No, Professor," the guy close to him replied. "It's just him. I think he'll be alright."
"Okay," the professor replied. "Make sure he's fine. Let me know if you need help."
Asim saw the world as if through a haze. He felt dizzy. Everything seemed to spin around him, but he had to focus. He had to get up and find her, make sure she was okay. His temple seared in pain and something hot trickled down the side of his face. Asim wiped the sweat off with the back of his hand and grabbed the seat in front of him to help him stand up.
"What in the world. . !" A startled cry escape his lips as he realized the back of his hand was smeared with dark red.
It can't be . . . blood, can it? Asim thought, unnerved by the sight of it.
"You got a nasty wound there," he heard the brown haired guy. "I think it needs to get checked. Let's get out of the bus."
Asim was still a bit disoriented. He could not really understand what the bloke was saying. He felt his temple with his hand and winced when a sharp pain shot through it. Blood was pouring out from a wound he had received, and he had no idea how.
He caught sight of the window in his periphery and noticed it was broken. That is when he recalled how he had snapped open his seat-belt to go get Salma, how the bus had skidded dangerously and how he had flown head first towards the window.
Head butting a window is surely not a good idea, Asim thought. Salma would laugh at him for the rest of her annoying life.
"Salma!" Asim gasped, suddenly remembering he had not seen her yet.
He quickly got up and tried to make his way to the front. Only, to bump into someone standing next to his seat.
"Sorry mate," the guy with brown hair apologized. His hair was disheveled and his glasses askew. He fixed his glasses and stared at Asim through them. "Let me help you. You must be feeling dizzy."
The concerned brunette reached out for Asim as he struggled against a spinning head.
"I'm fine. I'm alright." Asim replied, his words coming out slightly jumbled. "Have you seen Salma? I mean, my sister."
"No mate, but you need to get out here. Everyone rushed out and you've been left in the bus unconscious. You should let someone check that -"
What? Why didn't Salma come and get me? Asim frowned.
"No, I need to find my sister!" he insisted as he made his way forward through the empty bus. "You must have seen her, you know, she is different, very different. She's - the bag, she's the girl that made the bag fly -no, I mean it flew and she went after it. She -"
"Mate, you are not making much sense right now," the boy replied, "but I think I know who you are talking about. Everyone is outside, you'll find her. C'mon!"
The guy helped Asim out of the bus. He only slightly took notice of the fact that the door of the bus was absent. The first thing he saw outside was students sprawled all over the place; all shaken, crying, or holding onto one another for support and comfort. The kind bloke with brown hair left to console a girl who was silently sobbing nearby.
The sky outside was getting dark. Asim's feet sunk deep into at least a foot thick layer of mud as he stepped out of the bus. He had trouble taking two steps without tripping. The bus had skidded away from the road, into a muddy layer on the side, with its hind side smashed into the mountain. The deep layer of mud had slowed its speed, and the impact with the side of the mountain resulted in the crazy ride of the bus to come to a halt. The students sitting at the back of bus were all injured and Asim was hoping none was too serious. They were all grouped together and a few people were tending to them. He made sure Salma was not one of them, even though he knew she was not seated at the back of the bus.
Asim moved forward, thanking God the bus swerved towards the mud pool instead the cliff on the other side. All of them would have been dead by now, had that been the case.
Asim's vision was going in and out of focus and he had trouble walking straight. However, Salma's absence kept him going. He was shouting her name, and asking anyone he met if they had seen her. Some just looked at him as if they could not understand what he was saying. Others did not even blink as they tried to overcome their own shock. Those that were slightly more collected just shook their heads, or asked him to see what little help he could get for his wounded temple.
"I think we'll have to wait for one of the other buses to get us." A guy discussed with his friends as Asim passed by their group huddled together.
"Yeah, but we have been here for quite some time now." A girl sniffled. "Shouldn't they have been here by now?"
"I think it's because we almost flew like a wild plane here. So we lost them. I'm sure they'll reach us soon." Her friend reassured.
Asim recognized their faces and realized that he had already asked them about Salma. Either he was going in circles, or he had already searched the entire place and she was not around. Asim felt more anxious with every second that passed by. Just where was that girl?!
He stopped another boy to inquire about Salma as he rushed on, but was cut short by a loud, anguished cry from nearby.
"No! It can't be! No way! No!" the girl wailed. When Asim was closer, he deflated realizing it was not his sister but a slightly familiar blonde wearing a red dress.
He was about to turn around in his search for Salma, when someone who was trying to comfort the girl, caught his attention. It was Professor R.K.
Asim made his way to the professor as the girl cried on his shoulder. His heart ached for her, hoping she had not lost -
No way! Asim told himself firmly. Everyone was fine, injured, but fine. They had to be!
"Professor?" Asim called him, feeling a bit bad because R.K. was already busy with the girl.
The professor's eyes snapped in Asim's direction and his features turned into an expression Asim could not quite explain. The moment he saw Asim, he looked sorry, alarmed and exhausted, all at the same time.
"Mr. Rahman!" the professor said warily as if he was dreading to meet Asim.
"Sorry to interrupt, sir," Asim said, "but have you seen my sister? Have you seen Salma, professor?"
Professor R.K. looked away.
"You are injured; you need to let someone look at your wound." Professor said as he ignored Asim's question and avoided eye contact. "The students over there have the first aid -"
"Sir, I'm fine." Asim said firmly. He had a strong feeling the professor was trying to send him away and he did not like it one bit. "I'll let someone take a look at it after I find my sister. She --"
Asim was cut mid sentence when the blond girl suddenly snapped her head in his direction. Her blue eyes were red and puffy with all the crying and her hair was a mess. She stared back at the professor, and then at Asim. The professor give her an uneasy glance before turning his attention back to him once more.
What is going on?
Asim was starting to get impatient but he tried to keep his calm. R. K. had clearly been through a lot and Asim wished he would not have bothered the professor, but he needed to know where his sister had disappeared to. She was nowhere to be found, and for no good reason, he had started to panic with the weird exchange of glances.
"Professor?" Asim urged.
"Well, Mr. Rahman. . ." The professor scratched the side of his neck as if thinking what to say. The lines on his forehead deepened even further as he frowned. The blonde started crying again. This time she was looking at Asim as if she could empathize with him.
Why was she acting like she understood the panic he felt, and the fear and dread of something painful and horrible?
Asim took a step away from the girl to create some distance between them. For a moment, he really felt like she was about to hug him.
"She - Miss Rahman was . . . When the door was ripped off its hinges, she. . ."
"What?!" Asim shouted.
A lot of heads turn in his direction but he could not care less. His heart was beating at an alarming rate and his throat constricted uncomfortably. He tried to force himself to not think of what he thought the Professor was trying to tell him; words that he feared and never wanted to hear, fears of his that he never wanted the Professor to confirm.
"She what, professor? Where is my sister?" Asim demanded in a forcefully controlled voice.
"She - Your sister fell out of the speeding bus when. . ."
Asim did not hear what followed. His ears started ringing, and his lungs refused to fill with oxygen. His gaze was fixed on the professor's moving lips, but his ears could not pick a single sound coming out of them.
"What?" He managed a shocked whisper, as his body froze in space.
"I'm sorry," Professor R.K replied looking distressed and exhausted. "There was nothing I could do."
"Where?" Asim asked, clinging on to some sort of hope that they could still find her. His sister had to be fine. She just had to be.
"When the bus skidded dangerously close to the edge, she fell over the edge of the cliff -"
Asim felt a sharp pain in his chest. It made him stumble back as if someone had physically punched him. He closed his eyes.
Over the edge? Not on the road but over the -
"Oh God! Please No!" he choked as the professor's words registered in his mind. The little oxygen in his lungs was knocked out as he gasped for breath between tears.
Down the cliff? Salma fell over the edge and down the cliff. Asim started feeling too dizzy for his legs to support him anymore. The ringing in his ears increased so much that he could hardly hear anything around him.
"Mr. Rahman -"
Asim thought he heard professor R.K say something, but he could not be sure. He thought he felt someone grasp him by his arms and sit him down. He did not know. He did not want to know. His sister was missing. No other thought seem to formulate over that one.
All he was certain of was that he was praying with every fiber of his being for her to be alive, pleading for a miracle with every ounce of his body, asking for her to be alright. Asim had no idea how that was possible but he wanted it happen. No matter how impossible and foolish his pleas and prayers sounded, he wanted his sister alive and well.
Authors Note:
Another chapter's up :). So? How was it? Asim's P.O.V. was new. Let me know what do you guys think would happen next? You may win a dedication ;).
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Love you all!
J