I am not the kind of person who gets squeamish at the sight of blood. I've witnessed many tragic mass casualties at the hospital: multiple car crashes, abused or rape victims, typhoid epidemics, and the worst of all, orphaned children on the streets who had been run over by a commercial truck.
The scene before me reminded me of that horrible sight, where children, children who didn't even understand the concept of death, were trying to battle for their lives. We saved one that night; one, one out of eight.
I almost regret the fact that I told the guy to shoot the guards. It was a blood bath, but I could fix this afterwards. Of course. I hope.
But they were only the guards, a part of my brain reprimanded. They aren't the brains; they are only here to survive on their salaries. These people might not have had a good education, or they were likely in deep poverty. I can't blame them. I would have done the same, if I was in poverty. I would have done anything to keep my family afloat. I would have pushed other's off their lifeboat to keep myself and my family alive.
Our survival instincts make us do horrible acts; but are we really evil deep inside?
I have to remind myself that If I hadn't harmed them, they would harm the three of us.
The guards were whimpering and kneeling over in pain as we crossed them. One guard tries to shoot me, but since he was in pain, he couldn't aim properly. The bullet flies past in between Aarav and I, and I dodge the flying metal by an inch. The weird thing was, he was trying to shoot my legs.
He could've simply maimed me by aiming for my upper body.
Why would they try not to harm us critically? Why did they want us alive?
I can't think about that. If they catch us, it will be hell on earth for the three of us; and I was already taking enough risks with three lives.
Aarav was a collègue and my probable future brother in law. Aniket, the love of life. And my innocent child who hasn't yet witnessed this world.
I have three lives in my hands. And The only life I was willing to give is my own.
Aarav and I step past the last guard. I struggle with my ankle, but with Aarav carrying Aniket, I couldn't be a burden to him by asking him to support my weight as well.
Plus, he looks like he's about to faint from exhaustion.
I was planning to escape with the twelve girls as well, but now I'm not really sure with Aniket's noncompliance.
I will free them by talking to the commissioner. For now, I have to focus on getting the three of us out safely.
We are about to exit through the metal doors of the mansion, when suddenly, a man blocks our way.
He looks to be in his sixties. His hair was graying, along with his mustache and eyebrows. The man had a defeated look on his frail face. The tall man stood, shoulders sagged in hopelessness. "Leave my son. They took everything from me. My family, my wife, my future. He's the only thing I have." The man speaks, his sad eyes pouring into mine directly. His eye contact doesn't waver for a moment, fixated on my brown ones as he gave his almost believable speech.
I snort. "At least you have this brothel." I pause, weary for a retort. "Now, move of our way. If you don't understand simple orders, then I will have to shoot your son." I lie.
YOU ARE READING
The Workaholic Wife (COMPLETED)Romance
A workaholic doctor never thought about marriage a day in her life until she woke up to find a man in her bedroom. Her mother wanted grandchildren and she wanted to abide her wishes, so that her mother would not scorch her ears until she does. What...