Don't go to Calgary.

The instruction was simple, clearer then most. That should've been a warning in itself.

Aggravated, I rolled off of my bed, my nightly prayer interrupted. I had plans to go to Calgary, because I'd missed the train yesterday, I'd take a ride from a friend online to Terrace, and then fly the remaining distance. On top of that, I had a hostel booked and a wish list to fulfil. I had plans to go to Calgary.

"Then where do I go, Lord?" I tried not to whine to the wall. Instructions or warnings with clarity like this were few in number and always accurate in every sense. Sometimes the side effect of being Christian.

Maybe I should read my Bible again.

For a moment, I thought I felt the inkling to stay. Which was odd, I'd been in Prince Rupert for almost two weeks now. My Grandmother had fallen seriously ill and me, the Australian (and newly Canadian) traveller on the opposite end of the world from my home had coincidentally been the closest of the family.

The detour hadn't been all that bad, I'd seen bears and whales and lots and lots of salmon (a rarity in Australia). I'd made friends with some of the locals in town and found a few others my age. However, with only two months remaining in my self-proclaimed 'rite of passage', it was time to move on. I still needed to catch the likes of Banff's natural parks and see if I was lucky enough to witness the Northern Lights in Jasper.

No, it was time to go to Calgary.

I fell back into bed. The bedside clock said I was pushing almost midnight. It was not looking good for the compulsory eight hours of sleep needed before travelling.

Why do you not want me to go to Calgary? I wanted to say, my eyes lifted to the ceiling, probably expecting a heavenly figure to appear through the ceiling to offer me guidance.

"Then who of you, by worrying, can add a single hour to his life?" I whispered. "You'll take care of me anyway."

...

Grandma seemed anxious to not let me go. With my bags tightly zipped and stacked against the door, she clasped my hand in a serious manner. "Are you sure you want to go? You're free to stay as long as you like!"

I gave a tight lipped smile, she'd said this on the third day, then the first week and then sometime a few days ago as well. "Grandma, I have reservations in Calgary that are expensive to cancel, I'll be fine, though I'll try and see if I can pop back up before I leave back to Australia."

That was a lie. Getting to Prince Rupert was some of the most treacherous, expensive and painful planning I've had in a long time, especially for a penniless traveller like me.

However, it did put her at somewhat of an ease. Her worried face melted back into a subtle frown and she gave a firm nod. Deep down I knew she was incredibly lonely. A lifetime of painstaking, hard work and the loss of her husband had left her only with a cramped apartment unit in the isolated town of Prince Rupert. With daughters who barely visited her (I think the last visit was two years ago), no one in the family was ready to volunteer to help her move to a closer area. Because of that, she'd developed a severe case of isolation and a desperation for human interaction which had almost made her less unsociable and the cycle continued.

No, I was a free sprit, I needed to be in the loudest hotels downing shots with names that were either in alliteration or rhymed. I needed to be hiking glaciers and going to bed at horrible times. I couldn't wait with my Grandmother any longer.

She goes to say something, decides against it and shakes her head. "All the best on your travels, be sure to message me every day!"

"Will do," I grinned, another lie.

Past the hall, in the driveway, a car pulled up. It was Kacey, a quirky, longtime internet friend who I'd met six years ago and kept in contact with ever since. He'd been the first and only person I'd been willing to ask to drive me to the airport. I turned back to Grandma.

"Gotta go!" A small smile and a final hug, plus two minutes of shuffling out the door and moving bags. I was off.

"Hey Marian, ready to go?" Kacey asked.

"Yep,"

"How was she?"

"Not holding on for long," I replied soberly. Grandma was always that distant family member. When it costed the family upwards of ten thousand dollars and half a leg to see her in her crumbling home and she was non-negotiable about leaving, all prospects of meeting up regularly ceased on either side.

It was a shame, but it was also the hand we'd been dealt with.

Kacey and I made small talk on the way. It was mostly an effort to keep the car lapsing into an awkward (but preferable) silence.

The rain was a dangerous downpour. Battling the car with its angry fists, one could barely see the craggy outline of the mountainous terrain in the distance. Cars passed, barely bothering to switch off their high beams. The road ahead was almost invisible.

"I think you might be looking at a few delays," Kacey jested as he drove, shouting over the din.

"Please don't say that," I gave a half-hearted laugh, also shouting over the din.

Behind us, a single car followed, sometimes its lights dimming in the heavy rain, a testament to the force of the weather coming at us.

"Watch behind us!" Kacey called.

I looked in the mirror, the following car was speeding up. The distance behind us was closing quickly. Ten meters, five, four-

"Faster!" I cried, my body fully twisted around, "speed up!"

Kacey went to put his foot on the pedal but the car behind made contact. It was a ute of some kind, firmly planting itself into the back of Kacey's city sedan. The impact threw us both forwards. I braced myself against the plastic in front of me. Kacey hit the breaks. Our car fishtailed. Soon enough, we were spinning. We hit the grass, falling sidewards, then over.

A scream, the sound ripping itself out of my throat. The car was going down the embarkment, with us in it. Kacey swore, doing his best to regain control.

Somewhere along that, we hit the wall of thickly-grown trees. My head hit the side window. Vision blurred. Rain now throwing itself against the window. The din continued.

It was hard to open my eye, blood seeming to streak all down my face. In my hair, my eye, my mouth and nose. Kacey was slumped against his window, unconscious.

I spat out the blood in my mouth, more filling to take its place. My hand brushed against my forehead. I struggled to get another glance at Kacey. 

"Help," I croaked, bile rising in my throat. The windscreen was spiderwebbed with breakages. The plastic door handle of the sedan felt like it was slipping under my grasp.

I need to get out, I need to find help.

In my dazed state, I found myself on the flooded ground. Water rushed through my hands and in the late Autumn, almost instantly turned them numb. The seatbelt gave way and most of my body was now on the forest floor. The runoff from the road was rushing around me and I felt weaker with each passing second. The raindrops threw themselves like tiny daggers at the back of my exposed neck and body. Blood and rain formed a turbulent mixture, running through my hair and down my face.

I slid out of the car, on all fours, my body shaking with the cold.

"Help," I tried again, weakly. The cold was stabbing into my bones.

I need to get help, I need to stand.

One leg, the other, using the car as a brace I pushed myself forwards in my first few baby steps. Through the chaos, I could see car lights, shouting.

Emboldened, I cried into the rain, "Help!" I tried, "please, help us!"

A shadowy figure of a man stood at the edge. His shadowy outline blurred by the rain. He moved forwards towards me.

"Help," I sobbed, falling forwards. I caught myself before hitting the mud, barely holding myself above the grass and bush. I pushed myself onto my back, the rain now beating at my face.

The man hovered over me. He was shouting words that failed in the din. His outline blurred before my face. I struggled to keep water from flooding into my mouth.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I need help," the words fall out of my mouth, "my friend..." I turn behind me towards the car.

"Help is here. I've got you,"

The earth, despite its icy climate, felt warm. The back of my head pounded. Words, I couldn't comprehend, cried out in the back.

My lids felt heavy, the earth was warm and the sky was cool. Rain washed away the blood and tears. My vision grew darker. The man was joined by another figure.

"Thank you Lord," I whispered before slipping into the darkness.