A Fight for Survival

The sun had long begun its slow descent behind the Drakensberg Mountains, casting an orange glow over the snow-draped peaks. Ntsiki Dlamini gripped the steering wheel tighter as she navigated the winding N3 highway. Her eyes darted nervously to the radio, where a crackling voice was giving an urgent weather update.

“Travellers on the N3 be advised. A major snowstorm is expected to hit within the next two hours. Extreme caution is advised. Stay off the road if possible,” Said the reporter. Ntsiki exhaled sharply, her breath fogging the wind shield as the temperature continued to plummet. “Why did I even come this way?” She thought, shaking her head. She had a perfectly reasonable alternative and she could have stayed the night in Durban after the conference, but her stubbornness pushed her forward. She did not want to waste another moment away from home. Being on the road felt like a necessary escape. An escape from memories, regrets, and from the betrayal that still haunted her like a phantom.

She glanced at the passenger seat, where a pile of reports lay, forgotten. Her conference on child welfare had gone well, but it had not taken her mind off the gnawing bitterness that churned in her gut whenever she thought of her ex-fiancé, Tshepo. He was supposed to be her future, a man she trusted with her heart, but he turned out to be part of a crime syndicate, breaking her trust and shattering her dreams.

The snow began to fall more heavily, light flurries turning into thick, wet clumps. Ntsiki turned the radio up, hoping to drown out the rising unease that stirred in her chest. She was used to being in control at work, with her friends, in life but here, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the creeping danger of the storm that sense of control was slipping.

Her phone buzzed on the console. A text from her best friend Boitumelo popped up:

“Be safe out there, girl. This storm sounds bad! Call me when you stop for the night.” She glanced at the message, and then back at the road, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed back. “Will do. Storm’s picking up but I’m fine.” Just as she hit send, she spotted something strange ahead, a flickering set of headlights coming from a car pulled over to the side of the road, nearly buried in snow. She slowed down, her eyes narrowing in the dim light. There was movement and someone waving, a figure standing by the stranded car.

Instinct told her to keep driving. However, conscience always her loyal companion, the part of her that had driven her into social work urged her to stop.

She slowed her car and pulled over, the tyres crunching over snow. Rolling down the window, she was met with the biting wind and a man’s face, haggard and pale in the cold. “Please! Can you help?” His voice trembled, but it was clear and sharp over the howling wind.

“My car’s stuck; I’ve been trying to get it moving for hours. I’m freezing out here.” Ntsiki sized him up quickly, her gut reaction to stay cautious. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with a paramedic’s uniform partially hidden under his coat. He looked desperate, but not dangerous. “Where were you headed?” Ntsiki asked, voice guarded, her fingers hovering over the lock button on the door. “Johannesburg,” he said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “But the storm’s too bad. I cannot make it through. Do you have room?” She hesitated. The road ahead was barely visible, and with the snow piling up faster, she knew she could not stay out here much longer either. “Alright,” she finally said, unlocking the door. “Get in. However, no funny business, alright? This storm’s bad enough.”

The man nodded gratefully and hurried into the passenger seat, shivering. He exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands together. “Thank you. I thought I was going to freeze out there. I’m Thabiso, by the way.”

“Ntsiki,” she replied curtly, eyes back on the road.

“You a paramedic?”

“Yeah, got caught in the storm after a shift.” His voice was calm, but she sensed the weariness in it.

“And you?”

“Social worker. Driving back from a conference in Durban.” They fell into an uneasy silence, the only sound being the soft thrum of the engine and the relentless pattering of snow against the wind shield. Ntsiki’s eyes flickered to the side mirror, catching glimpses of the road disappearing behind them.

She did not trust him. Not yet. The remnants of her past trust issues still lingered like a raw wound. However, out here, in this desolate, frozen wasteland, she could not afford to be alone either. “So, what do you think? Can we make it to the next town?” Thabiso asked, his tone casual but laced with concern. Ntsiki glanced ahead at the barely visible road. “It’s hard to say. The storm’s picking up fast. We’ll have to stop somewhere soon or we’ll get stuck just like you did.” Thabiso sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Great… just what I needed. Another storm to deal with.”

“Another?” Ntsiki asked, curious.

“Yeah, the last time I was in a situation like this, it didn’t end well,” he muttered, eyes staring out into the darkness. “We were responding to an emergency up in the mountains. I was part of the rescue team and things went wrong. I lost someone. Haven’t been able to shake it since.” Ntsiki turned slightly, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his voice. “I’m sorry. That sounds bad.”

“It was. But, you know life goes on.” He forced a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. She understood that look all too well, the look of someone carrying a burden too heavy to share. She had seen it in her own reflection more times, than she cared to admit.

They continued down the road, the tension in the car easing slightly, though the storm outside only grew more ferocious. Snow piled up on the road, and the wind shield wipers struggled to keep up. Suddenly, the headlights caught movement ahead, a dark figure standing in the middle of the road, arms raised.

“Who the hell,” Ntsiki slammed on the brakes, her heart lurching into her throat. The car skidded to a stop just metre away from the figure, who now approached cautiously through the blizzard.Thabiso sat up straight, tension radiating from him. “This can’t be good.” Ntsiki’s heart pounded in her chest. She was trapped between the storm and a stranger in the dark.