The Escape

Twelve hours had passed since they detained me, and there were twelve more to go. I was imprisoned in a temporary cell at the local jurisdictional police station. The jail cell was badly maintained. Rusted iron doors are unclean and unhygienic.

My hands were still cuffed. Another mistake. I still did not know why I was detained. My presupposition is true: within the next twelve hours, they must appear before the nearest magistrate.

It got darker as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. The orange light flooded into the station through the door and the window and into the cell. I was sitting in the corner, folded to my knees. All I could do was wait. Wait and watch.

⁕ ⁕ ⁕

It was the dead of night, pitch black in the house. The only source of light was the moonlight, gently illuminating a tiny portion of her room. It was the windows that were small. Peculiarly small. Apart from that, the lamp in the room of the gods was lit.

Kiara was lying on her bed, looking at the ceiling. It was still the same color as the last time she visited and the one before. She was dejected, tired, sad, and worried. All those feelings were expressed in an unruly manner. A sleepless night was one of the things she was bad at. It irritated her. It made her hungry, restless, angry, and tensed. She would be overwhelmed by the fact that she could not sleep. Her anger would turn to rage, and then she would ramshackle her room.

But this was different. She was not angry, but sad. Tired yet sleepless. Relaxing yet restless. She was aware of the reason for such chaotic feelings, but she did not believe it. Or not want to believe it. She was still in shock, or rather, traumatized from being fired. Furthermore, she burst out on him. Was that even his fault?—it was a question she pondered for the night.

It was cold. I felt it in my bones. The hard ground made it more uncomfortable. Twenty-four hours had passed, and I was still locked up in this cell, completely immobilized. My presupposition was true. I was arrested for not breaching any law, nor did I do anything wrong. This was an attempt to murder me. An attempted culpable homicide. I had to escape before it was too late to do anything.

"Hey." Said one of the constable. "Sleep time's over. You're coming with me."

He unlocked the cell. Then held my arm and roughly pulled me off the ground. I jolted from my sleep like a hypnotic jerk. He pulled me in while tightly gripping my arm. Still cuffed. He took us outside toward an SUV. It was neither a police vehicle nor a government vehicle. It was a private one.

This was bad news. It was crystal clear. They are corrupt cops. They have no evidence against me, no order to arrest me, or any reason to touch me. Someone who wants me dead has bought them. I was running out of time, and if I did not make a move now, I would be gone forever.

He pulled me towards the SUV, opened the rear door, and gestured me to get in.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"No questions." He said.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He pulled out his gun and pointed it at my face.

"Now, shut your mouth and get in." He said.

I sat inside as he directed. Then he slammed the door and got in the driver's seat. It was dark, maybe around two or three in the morning. This was a good time to kill someone. People will be asleep; no one will be around. Just the perfect time to go missing.

He started the engine. Then slowly accelerated to the road. Once we hit the road, he began gaining speed, way over the speed limit. I had to do something, but what? My hands were cuffed, and my gut was in pain from the punch. There was no possible way to escape. If I charge at him at this moment, we may end up in a fatal accident.

An hour of driving later, he detoured onto a narrow dirt road. It was pitch black. All I could see was the bonnet of the vehicle and the ray of light that lost itself in the pitch black. The road was so bumpy that it pushed me around as the SUV went through the pits. Then he stopped.

He turned off the headlight, losing the only source of light. Then he dimmed it and dipped it three times, like a signal. From a distance, a tiny light flashed three times, like a response. Again, he dimmed and dipped, but this time it was two. Ten seconds later, a response flashed twice. He started the engine and progressed forward until he reached a building.

He alighted and went to the building. There was another person standing with a flashlight. They were speaking for about a minute, and then he came running back. Opened the door and pulled me by my arm.

"Move." He ordered.

"Where am I?" I asked.

He pulled out his gun and pointed it at me. I sighed and started towards the building. It was a dilapidated building with no lights around or any streetlights. I could see a portion of it with the flashlight.

"Don't act smart." He said this as he nudged me with his gun, pushing the barrel against my back. "Or I'll shoot you right here, you understand?"

The door of that building had moss growing all over it. By the look of that. I looked around the porch as I climbed the stairs. The windows were shut. It seemed to be so for quite some time because the grills on the outside were broken. Nobody would like to keep it that way. Not even in government-operated facilities. With the look of this, it was absolutely clear. I was brought here to be assassinated.

As I stepped inside through the door via the porch, I could sense the smell of an old locked room. I sneezed hard from the dust itching my nostrils.

"At least uncuff me." I said.

He pointed his gun at me.

"At least for some time, I want to cover my nose."

"No. I know what you're capable of. I will not let you escape."

"Seriously. Do you think I would run as you uncuffed me with that gun on my face?"

He placed his hand on the trigger. "Do you want to die?" He pressed the barrel against my forehead.

⁕ ⁕ ⁕

There were more than a hundred guests invited to the wedding. Everyone was dressed colorfully for a joyous celebration. It was one that her parents had looked forward to for quite some time. Any parent would. It was their son's wedding. The atmosphere was permeated with laughter, joy, and excitement, of which Kaira was an unprecedented part. Some were enjoying the welcome juice, kids playing around, lights blossoming and dimming into a different color, and some casually talking.

The bride and the groom were in separate rooms. They would see each other once the ritual began. Kaira was delighted to see her own brother getting married. He had a rough time finding the right kind of bride, unlike Kaira, who went with a romantic marriage. Nobody really expected her to show up because of her decision to marry an outsider. It was an intercaste marriage. Most members of her family hated it so much that about half of them did not turn up for her wedding. "It is better to marry a foreigner than a different caste".

The Poojari arrived in his traditional attire and prepared for the ritual. Shortly after, the groom appeared, dressed in his specially tailored sharwani and a matching turban, both designed similarly to those worn by the Mysore kings of that time. The bride appeared a while later, shining with her glowing appearance and glittering face. A traditional red Gehenna chili consisting of a long skirt, a blouse, and a dhupatta. Looking at her, she felt envious. She compared herself to this new bride. Furthermore, she began reminiscing about the trouble they went through to just get married to the man of her choice. Her envy forced her to feel betrayed and cheated, which eventually led her to think of the fude last night. She thought, "I hope I have a better life than them.

Just like that, she spent her time partly enjoying and partly envious of them. She enjoyed their food, drinks, and music and got a good load of thrashing comments about her, which she kept to herself.

The tiny dust particles in the room forced me to rub my itchy and irritated nose on my shoulders. My hands were still cuffed, and the bloody cops were still finding the keys for the cell, which had been unused for a long time. I guessed this would be my last place to live. In a dusty old abandoned jail cell.

"Don't move." The cop said it for the fifth time with his gun still pointing at me.

"First time?" I asked with a bit of unnoticeable sarcasm.

"Shut up." He said it in a hesitant tone. "I'll shoot you."

Before I furthered our conversation, the other cop brought the key bunch. He then started trying each key. The sound of that keyhole kept resonating. The cop behind him lowered his gun and gave him a hand. I figured that they were not alone. We were probably under observation, a third eye to supervise.

A few moments later, they found the right key and unlocked the door. The cop with the gun pointed it at me and gestured for me to go in. I did not comply. He stepped closer at gunpoint and tried again. I walked toward the cell. The last place where I will be kept alive.

Suddenly, I kicked him in the crotch. He backed himself up while bending forward, screaming in pain. The other cop threw a punch at my face. I dodged it by swiftly backing out of his reach, then retaliated with a hard headbutt, which knocked him out for good. Then I searched his pockets for the keys to the cuff. I got it out and uncuffed my hands. By then, the ball-busted guy was on his feet. His gun in his hand. As soon as he got it to his shoulder level, I put my finger on the trigger, preventing him from pulling it. Then I twisted it one-eighty and elbowed him to the ground.

Suddenly, a group of five cops arrived at the doorstep. They were probably backups. Everyone was armed. Instantly, I shot the first in his chest, then crouched down behind a desk to take cover. They were firing ruthlessly; the gunshots were loud enough to attract attention. I could hear the bullets hitting the wooden desk. From the corner, I could make out an outline of a person. The pistol trigger in my hand emitted a loud shot, and another cop was down. Consequently, all the bullets went my way.

New plan. I gradually crept across the room to the other corner via various old desks. I could see more outlines. With a firm grip and relaxed shoulders, I took aim, pulled the trigger, and held it. The pistol fired three bullets, and two more were down. Only one left. I could hear the footsteps running away. I crept towards the doorstep and looked at either side. Clear. Then I heard the sound of the engine starting. By the time I got out, he had taken off in the only vehicle and vanished in the distance.

I was fortunate enough to live another day, but unfortunate enough to lose the only vehicle in the middle of nowhere. I pulled out my phone from the side pocket of my pants. 12 percent remaining. I knew whom to call, but for some reason I ended up at Kaira's contact. I was certain she would not answer, but I did it anyway. Negative.

I called the only person who could help me.

"Hello, Sathvik," I said over the phone. "I need your help."

TO BE CONTINUED...