On the other side of the central divider, against traffic.
Speeding from behind.
Sunny watches it glide past.
Coasting.
Slowing.
Stopping.
Level with Bunty’s Task Force SUV.
* * *
—
The helmeted rider plants his left leg into the ground.
Removes the object from his duffel bag.
Locks it in his arms.
Metal.
Dark.
Long.
* * *
—
Bunty glances to his right.
In that split second he sees.
He pulls the cop across him as a human shield.
* * *
—
The muzzle flash.
The ear-splitting chunk.
Of the fully auto AR-15 with the hundred-round drum.
Decimating the police SUV.
Slicing through metal and flesh.
Before the bike kicks into gear again.
Spins east at the junction toward Sainik Farms.
* * *
—
Eli is on the far side.
By the time he’s out firing shots it’s in vain.
The cops are next, with their Glock 17s.
But the bike is gone away.
* * *
—
Sunny staggers onto the road.
Stares at what’s left.
Of the shredded, slaughtered meat inside.
It was once his father.
Past one a.m., somewhere in Punjab, the HRTC bus to Manali pulls over at the dhaba on the side of the road. The passengers file out sleepily, Ajay among them in his black T-shirt, his black pants. His Luger has already been thrown. In this world all that belongs to him is a few thousand rupees, and his grief, and his freedom. He’ll vanish into the mountains of his youth. He takes his seat, orders chai and dal fry. Then he looks up at the newsflash on the TV.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Deepti Kapoor grew up in northern India and worked for several years as a journalist in New Delhi. The author of the novel Bad Character, she now lives in Portugal with her husband.