I lie awake on my bed, staring at the stark white ceiling. My thoughts are spinning faster than the ceiling fan which groans and splutters over my head. The doctors don't appear again. A lone nurse peeps in to dress my wounds. By that point, my wounds are stinging so badly that I request the nurse to sedate me again. And as the searing pain of the medicine through my system, settles into the numbness of a painless bliss, I drift in and out of consciousness.
In my oneiric state, I hear voices and shuffled footsteps but I don't move or respond. My body needs rest to recuperate and heal and it needs sleep. I let the thoughts roll off my mind and welcome the blankness of the dark. Days drag on into nights and soon I lose count of time. It can be one day or ten or even one month. I take my meds without complaint and am satisfied living in the chrysalism of ignorance.
Until one day my head clears a bit and I realise that I have lost track of time. I try to open my eyes but my eyelids feel like lead. Gradually or begins to come back to me. I had asked to be sedated and then they had kept on pushing meds into my system. What day is it? What happened to my unfinished task? My thoughts get jumbled into jelly as I try to lift up my body which groans uncooperatively.
The nurse rushes in just then with the evil syringe that keeps me under. I shake my head vehemently, trying to form coherent words to refuse her. She grips my arm forcefully, the injection aimed right as my vein. I try to jerk away from her grip with the last remaining ounce of strength in me. I feel a sharp pinch and see red. The needle has broken off from the hub of the syringe and is dangling precariously, one end in my vein, the top sticking out with blood trickling in drops, like little red flowery buds, that wilts and splashes on my skin like a fallen flower.
Time seems to stand still as I drag my unwilling body and my numb arms, ripping the needle off me. I hold the railings in an attempt to sit up, but my drugged stupor is costing me my strength. The world reels around me and there is a constant buzzing in my head.
I hear agitated voices and realise she is calling someone. It'd be good if the doctors come in. I would tell them all against giving sleeping meds to patients, sedating them against their will. The door is thrown open and two men dressed in white coats, walk-in. There's an evil smile playing on their lips and I realise a bit too late that they aren't real doctors. The grab me and force me back onto the bed, even as I struggle against brute force.
I feel the pinch of the dreaded needle and the rush of bliss as my world fades to dark again.
__________
I wake up to pitch-black darkness. I open my eyes wider and wider but it's still darkness around. I realise to my horror that I'm not in the hospital anymore. I'm somewhere else, far away. I can feel the dampness of the floor under me. I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound of water dripping somewhere.
Drip
Drip
Drip
The water makes a surprisingly melodious staccato that almost lulls me back to sleep but I force my eyes open. I'm an investigator. I can't just give in to situations. I knew what I was getting into before taking up this case. But I didn't know it'd be this horrific.
The face of Shifana rushed back to me. Am I making a mistake here? Shifana never caused me harm but once she was gone, all these started to happen. I try to sit up and am met by the jabbing pain in my right shoulder. I have a stab injury that didn't heal yet, great! So much being brave.
Panting from exertion, I use my elbows T push me off the ground and sit up straighter, wincing from the pain. Now that the effect of the numbing medicine is gone, it's just ten times worse. I turn my head around, trying to assess my location and coordinate with the sound of water. A lot of huge grey pipes are running parallel, and crossing each other in a meshwork of channels above me.
The steady whooshing noise makes me realise that they are carrying water. The dripping sound comes from little leaks in the system where the water is sneaking out of the pipes and landing in the floor. I realise the floor is slanty. I get up on my feet and follow the water stream and my hands touch a wall. Now that's progress. I can easily follow the wall and check the room for signs of escape.
Most probably I'm in the basement of some bottling plant. I fumble in the dark for some moments until my eyes adjust to the darkness and I see it clearer. This isn't a room, just an endless stretch of basement.
Stumbling my way through the algae-covered floors, I pick up the pace, as much as my slippery footing on the ground will allow me. And soon I see light. A faint ray of hope reaching out to me through the dark, beckoning me forward. As I reach the faint trickle of light, I realise it's a vent to the top layer.
Somebody might as well be keeping a watch but it is my only way of escape, so I gather up my strength and give the grate a heave. The heavy thing doesn't budge even an inch. I try to push harder, the pain in my shoulder, screaming for mercy and with the last remaining strength, I throw off the vent which clangs with a sound loud enough to bring a hound of men on me. But the water perhaps muffles the sound as I lay on the ground, still catching my breath.
Thankfully no one comes to check on me as I squeeze my not so tiny body through the tiny vent and land in a room with gigantic tanks and a more vivid assortment of pipes. I tiptoe my way through the jungle of containers, trying to gauge the direction of the outside. Creeping around the walls, I discover a set of rickety iron staircase that seems to lead nowhere into the dark ceiling.
Still, I haul my protesting body upon the rings, one painful step at a time. The darkness from above seems to engulf me as I climb higher and higher until I feel the wind on my face. I peer up at the darkness on my head and realise its the sky - the open. I'm in the free. This realisation brings a new kind of enthusiasm in me as a climb higher.
And then I hear the voices. They seem to be arguing.
"Dushyant, that's completely insane. You made a mistake and that was it. The police would've never gotten to you but you tried to frame Zafar and now you've gotten this police officer captive..."
The voices grow closer and I hold my breath and press myself closer to the ladder, praying that they don't look up.
" What would I have done? " Another gruff voice sounded, " It was a matter of my reputation and my love. I had loved that girl all my life and now she says she loves that bastard of a criminal. He even got drunk and hit her and yet she's ensnared in his lustful tricks. "
" Did you really mean to stab her mahn"
"Are you crazy?" the voice of Dushyant rose a pitch. I just thought maybe I could scare her out of her wits and make her leave Zafar with threats. But damn girl tried to fight back and in the scuffle, it happened. "
"And then you escaped, and went after the police officer..."
"Ahh, that was a mistake," the angry and frustrated voice screams. The voices are just below me and I can't move or breathe. Partly from fear and partly from the excitement of new knowledge.
"I can't believe it, man... Psah!" the other voice scolds, "Once it's a mistake. You tried to kill another person and now you have her captive. It isn't a mistake but a thought out criminal plot now."
"I don't want pieces of advice from you.." and the two angry voices faded off, no doubt going down to search for me. I take the opportunity to climb up even faster and soon my feet hit rough tiles. I'm standing at the edge of a deep tank, staring at the pitch-black night sky. Without missing a breath, I start to run. This must be a campus and the gate must not be too far.
With renewed hope, I start running, out of breath and yet it feels like hope and freedom. Thankfully no one stops me as I keep running towards what I think is the gate. A distant sound of shouting breaks through the stillness of the night. They must have discovered I gone. And I'm still not close enough to the gate. I look behind, half expecting to see flashlights but only the agitated voices float over to my ears.
And it hits me hard. I double over in pain and collapse to the ground. In my hurry to run, I didn't notice a thick pipe run across the space. It has delivered a big enough blow. My gut feels like it has been punched. With great efforts, I manage not to groan, but the pain is blinding. The voices are coming closer. I drag myself on the ground to where the drums are.
There is a narrow space between two drums where I may be safe if I squeeze in. I drag my half-conscious body over to the gap and hold my breath as I squeeze myself to the other side, behind the tank. There is a narrow space, adequate for a single person but it is enough space for me to run, if I can. I clutch my stomach and rest my back against the steel tank, trying to catch my breath.
In
Out
In
Out
In
Out
Slowly the pain eases a bit and I feel my breath heaving up and down. The to voices I've heard before, however, catch up with me.
"Where is she?" Dushyant's voice has a lace of panic.
"I knew it was a bad idea to keep her. If she escapes from here and leads the police to this den, then all our stuff will be gone and we'll be in jail, " the other voice hisses.
"How can a drugged person escape?" Dushyant shouts at the top of his lungs.
"Bhai, if we get caught, it's you that has to pay for our bail," the other voice is cool and curt, he pauses for a while before resuming his speech, "I have tolerated a lot of your nonsense. Not anymore. One misstep and you're dead."
The threat in his voice is really clear as Dushyant mumbles something unclear. The voices fade away again. I take the opportunity to haul myself on my feet. This cat and rat race has gone too far.
I inch slowly behind the drums, minding the gaps where they may be waiting. For a few seconds, I start to believe that I can make it to the other end and just then something snaps under my feet. It's too late to realise that an old rickety pipe can't bear my weight. The noise amplifies with the emptiness of the pipe and the night.
"Who's there?" someone shouts from very close. I hold my breath and go still.
"If you value your life, come out," the known voice threatens again.
My heart is racing and I'm half afraid the entire neighbourhood and hear it beating. There's silence from the other end. I almost heaved a sigh of relief, and put out my feet to progress further when a shot rings out, shattering the stillness. A bullet shoots through the gap between the tanks and hits the wall inches away from my face. It is so sudden that I yelp. Two more shots sound and the whoosh of gushing water makes me realise that one of the tanks has been hit.
They say it's difficult to hit a moving target and I have the darkness on my side, so I take a risk and start running, not caring if the splash of water gives away my location.
Shots ring one after the another but somehow by God's grace the bullets miss me. Cold and drenched completely, I dodge bullets, pipes and darkness until I sight a heavy iron gate. The bars are widely spaced and for a small person like me, it's easy to squeeze through.
I don't wait in the shadows of the last tank. I just make a dash for the gate and slip out just as someone shouts 'GATE'
Light beams from torches crisscross my path as shouts sound behind me. The outside of the plant is just an endless forest. I don't know what dangers are awaiting me there but what more did I have to lose? I have already come too far to give up now
The forest is thick and there is no road. I rip apart branches and the thorns rip apart my skin as I try to invade. It's as if the forest doesn't want to allow me into her depths. The grasses are tall and I move with a prayer on my lips, hoping against hope that I don't meet a snake, which is very common in this season. The ground is muddy and slippery, but its better than dry leaves which will give away my location for sure.
"There she is," one of them shouts. My heart almost leaps out of my chest, not here, not now. I jump over the brambles and increase my speed. I need to put some distance between them and me and then can I hide. Soon I find the trees thinning out and I curse my bad luck. The last remaining hope of cover will be gone soon.
There's a little rundown shack in a small clearing just outside of the forest. Beyond which stretches acres and acres of field left barren. If I go to the open, I'll be an easy target. I need to keep the cover of the forest. Slowly, scanning my surroundings for danger, I look at the shack. The rotten doors and windows are almost falling apart. No one seems to have stayed there in a long time. I push open the door as brown crumbs of wood colour my palms. I push it further. The insides are pitch dark. I fumble in the dark and my hand touches something cold in the dark. I grab the object and it is an iron hammer. Old and rusted, yet it is a weapon.
I hold the hammer close and advance further. Something hits my feet and scatters away, rattling from the impact. I drop on my knees to the floor and reach out for the thing. It's a torch. Not the modern pencil torches, but the heave metal ones that could break your skull. My thumb eases the switch up and to my surprise, it lights up.
The gears in my brain whirrs fast. If this torch is still working, it couldn't be too old. Somebody must have been here recently. But I don't have time to lose, so I set out on the plan to buy me some time. I open the window just a chink , place the torch so that the light can be seen shining from both the door and the window. Next I force open the back door and slink out from there, making a dash for the forest. I see torches and searchlights. I run in the opposite direction, keeping to the edge of the forest and just before they reach the clearing, I jump into a narrow space created from the tall grass. I heave a sigh, settling down behind the curtain of nature.
Through the gaps in the grass, I find the men in the clearing. There are four of them. They look tall, burly and menacing. Their agitated voices create a cacophony of fear as they slowly enter the clearing, prowling around the house like a pack of wolves. No wonder they think I'm in there.
"Come out officer. We know you're hiding. There's no escape. We have you rounded up. Four to one, bad odds, lady," an unknown male voice leers, standing at the door of the shack.
Silence settles for a while.
They call again and then one of them punches the door, causing it to crumble. The men charge into the dilapidated little room like bulls at a red cape.
" She's gone you fools," a familiar voice shouts in earnest. I can see the men spilling out of the cottage. Their searching eyes seem to be glowing in the dark like rabid animals. I realise suddenly that my shirt feels damp. I put my hand on my chest and feel warm. There is a pulsating feeling at my shoulder. I must have opened the stab wound in all this melee. Biting my lips from the pain, I collapse against a tree. The sense of fight leaves me just then.
What will happen if they find me? They'll just kill me. Death is better than all this pain of hiding and running. Even if I escape this time, the gang won't leave me alone. It's better for it to be over now. I let go of my body, surrendering to the sudden fatigue that overcomes me. My eyelids feel heavy.
It's then I hear the screams and the shouts but I don't have the energy to move, much less worry about the screams.
"Vidya," someone is shaking me, hard.
"Ahhh," a scream escapes my lips.
A hand covers my face with urgency.
"Shh, I'm sorry. I forgot you were hurt," a very familiar voice whispers to me.
"Are you one of them? I give up," I say through the haze.
"What are you talking about? We need to get out of here. My team has them but they're only two men. We're outmatched but not hopeless yet."
The voice is familiar and yet so distant. The voice pierces my haze and hammers on the wall of my brain and yet I can't give a name to the voice.
" Get up Vidya, " a hand slaps me hard," you're going into shock. "
" Shifana? " the name fights through the oneiric state and registers in my mind. It comes out as an accusation, rather than a question.
"Yes it's me and there's no time for explanations. My car is waiting. You just have to walk there yourself," she instructs, hauling me up on my unsteady feet. Without thinking twice, I start to run, with her guiding me, dragging me, supporting me and holding me together.
Running... That's what I've done all my life. Running behind the truth, running away from lies... Running... Running...
We take a tangent through the forest and before I can feel it, I find myself in a clearing. I'm shoved into a car and the door slammed shut behind me. Shifana gets into the passenger's side and fires up the ignition. It's then I notice her closely and find that she's dressed all in black with a mask covering her entire face. I can as well be going with another criminal for all I care.
I rest my head against the seat as she navigates the car which purrs silently. She doesn't switch on the headlights until we reach the highway. Once we fall into the steady stream of the traffic, she heaves a sigh and looks at me.
"You okay?" there is genuine concern in her eyes. I simply nod.
She turns her attention back at the windscreen, "Stupid men. I told them to watch over you in the hospital but they let the goons get to you. When you went missing, I got frantic. You were the lady chance of redemption in this case, not that you'd know but..."
"You saved me..." I mumble slowly, "So are you the good guy?"
Shifana laughs, "There's good and bad in every person. It depends on what you show and what I see. I've done things I wouldn't be too proud of. I have a gang of my own but in this case, I was always in your favour. I was always busy having your back."
"Wait, so it's you that saved me when I was stabbed," I sit up straight, my brain whirring on thoughts again.
"Mhmm, " she mumbles, without looking away from the windscreen.
"And today..."
"Aha-"
"But why?" I finally ask the question I've been dying to ask all along, since the day I met her.
"Dushyant was my boyfriend you know. I loved him but religious barriers and all," she began, "But I knew he wasn't a very good and a law-abiding citizen." she looks at me, trying to gauge my reaction. I keep my face neutral so she continues.
"Dushyant did drugs and engaged himself with mafia affairs. I did too, but I'm more like the take from the rich and give to the poor kind. I run charities. For him, it was all money and power. He was roiling in riches. We fought a lot but I forgave him every time. And gradually the crack widened and he was seen chasing other women, so I decided to let him go. Anyway, the society wouldn't accept us. When I said that to him, however, he got violent and turned on me. That night he ravished me without my permission and tried to strangle me. He left me for dead. "
" What? "
" Yeah. But fortunately or miraculously I survived. But I needed revenge. I joined this gang, trained myself in self-defence, weapons and camouflage. Then when I came back into the mainstream, I realised he was getting engaged to a girl his family chose. I would've let it go if not for the fact that I knew the girl, Sanjh and I wouldn't let him ruin the life of a girl who had been kind to me. So I went there to warn Sanjh where I realised that she liked Zafar and not him.
"That's complicated," I mumble
"There's more. What I didn't realise then I'd that Dushyant had a key to her flat and he had been hiding in her room and had overheard all our talks. He came out, madly and charged at her. I don't think he realised who I was with the changed look and makeup. That day I used my defence techniques to scare away Dushyant but he promised to come back again."
"And next you hear is he attempts to murder Sanjh," I conclude.
"That broke the self-restraint in me. I needed proof though. The doppelganger made things complicated. You blamed her too, though I knew who was the culprit. So I tried to follow you and the source of your information. Dushyant however got tipped against you and he started pursuing you. And more after he learnt that you had visited Sanjh and Sandhya. He's a clever man. He put two and two together."
"He attacked me. You saved me again and again. And the rest is history," I sigh. The story makes perfect sense now.
"Humanity is gone, broken into a thousand pieces. So many colours, so much dirt. This world is all so full of shit," she sighs.
"But we do try to glue together the broken pieces of humanity and try to bring every piece into a seamlessly cohesive whole by implementing laws and morals," I sigh.
"I didn't realise that a close brush with death makes you a philosopher," she chuckles.
"Philosophy is contagious," I grin back, "I'm glad I got to know you."
She fell silent.
The passing streetlights catch her face and I find sorrow being reflected in those beautiful serene irises.
"Shifana?"
"I can't guarantee to stay with you. We stay on different sides of the law which can never mix together. I think our paths should not cross again," she sighs.
I stay silent, absorbed in my own thoughts as the car slowly advances along the now thinning traffic.
THE END