The bullet blew apart the head, splattering gory contents on the nearby bodies. 

Prithvi had just leaned against the car, pale and perspiring, with eyes shut against the agony when the gunshot rang out. His eyes snapped open, and directly fell on the limp torso of the bald man lying ahead on the dusty ground.

With livid disbelief, Prithvi looked from the dead man to his step-brother whose expression showed no trace of any strong emotion. No pleasure, no antagonism. Only the mild distaste of a person who had deliberately trodden over an annoying insect, squishing the life out of it…  

Meanwhile, Indrajit was looking at the other two goons. Their mate's murder seemed to have immobilised them. They were staring at the body with bewilderment.

Then almost simultaneously, both of them looked at him with shock, and saw their own fates on his face.  Terrified, one man managed to get up to his knees with a lot of effort, but the other, the one with the knife wound, could only writhe backwards on his elbows.

They looked like worms wriggling to escape a descending stone, Indrajit thought dispassionately as he walked towards the frantic men. When he was at a point where he could easily aim at both their heads, Indrajit raised the gun.

"Don't!"

Indrajit paused with his finger on the trigger and gazed around incredulously at the strident, angry command. The ********'s shirt had turned scarlet with blood, but no weakness had shown in his voice…

"Stay out of it…let them go," Prithvi said furiously, teeth clenched against the pain.

As the two potential victims stared at him disbelievingly, Indrajit slowly lowered the gun. "This pity you feel….it has gifted you with death. But let it not be said that I didn't honour your last wish," he said derisively. He tossed the gun carelessly to one of his men and shortly said, "Clear this mess."

Three men hurried towards the dead body. In the background, the less-injured man was trying to help his friend to his feet. They succeeded after an undignified struggle, and then both gazed at Prithvi, but he was inexplicably gazing upwards, breathing hard.

They turned and tottered away with the plain ambition of simply putting ample distance between Indrajit and themselves.

"Move."

Prithvi moved down his gaze and encountered Indrajit's bland features. He nodded tiredly, and with a tremendous effort, pulled away from the car. 

Indrajit stared with revulsion at the blood on the hood of the car.  "Clean this dirt," he snapped to Jiva, who hastened to grab a piece of cloth from the other car.

Indrajit detachedly watched his step-brother walk with gritty steadiness to a dilapidated shanty and brace a hand on the crumbling wall. Prithvi was going to be dead in a short while. It was very unfortunate that the bullet had not been fired from his gun but from that of a common thug's. He would avenge the insult.  Vikrant would pay with his life.

Prithvi took another step and rested his back against the wall. He was not going to be able to remain standing for long. He knew he was losing blood fast, and the degrading feeling of weakness was increasing….

A screeching noise pushed its way through the excruciating haze. Bemused, he looked in the direction of the sound.

The car was racing at full speed, and it swerved hard to take the roundabout route of its predecessors. He didn't need it to come closer to know the occupants of the vehicle.

Irritation sparked inside him.

How could Sumer Singh have brought her to this dangerous place…..How could Mochi have allowed it….

But he couldn't hold onto the annoyance for long. Despite the immense guilt, the sense of gratitude was too overwhelming.

The silent request for a chance to see her had not gone unheard….

***********************

Nandini didn't wait for the car to draw to a complete halt before scrambling out of it. Sumer Singh and Sankatmochan followed immediately. Many men were crowding the scene in front of her, but she was spared the need to scan through them.

Her eyes instantly met his.

Almost concealed by the men standing in between them, Prithvi was leaning against the wall of a grimy structure. Her heart leapt with joy and relief.

Then out of nowhere, Indrajit appeared in her line of vision. He wasn't looking at her but at the men standing behind.

"A bullet in his chest. Very close to the heart, I hope. He's not going to make it," he informed languidly. Behind him, the men shifted to one side.

Nandini shrivelled up with fright.

Prithvi's shirt was unspeakably red.  As she watched in shock, he tried to move away from the wall but fell back against it.

Sumer Singh and Sankatmochan were shouting something but she had no idea what they were saying.

Blank with agonising fear, she ran ahead.

He was looking at her steadily, and there was palpable contentment in his gaze as he extended a slightly shaking, crimson hand towards her. Instead of reassuring her, the action sapped the balance, meagre reserves of her strength.

This was not him. This couldn't be Prithvi. He should be angry that she had come here against his wishes. He should be scowling at her, not looking so pleased…..as though thankful that he'd been able to see her before….

A mysterious anger and fierceness swelled within her as she reached him. She clutched his fingers and moved forward.

Sick with horror, she raised a quivering hand towards the spot on his chest from which blood was spouting in a ceaseless stream. Why was it gushing out like that….how could she make it stop….

Prithvi looked at her utterly colourless face and fresh resolve flickered in his eyes. Jaw clenched, he once again tried to straighten from the wall, but lost his balance and staggered into her. His skin was cold. Blood from his body started soaking through her dress, dampening her skin. The force would have made her fall but Sumer Singh and Sankatmochan immediately leapt forward to support his frame, and they helped him rest against the structure.

He continued to gaze at her with that curiously intense air, studying her features with tenacious concentration. Clutching his sleeve, the only area of the shirt that was not bloodied, and fighting back tears, she looked towards Sumer Singh and Sankatmochan.

The older man was holding Prithvi's shoulder and weeping silently. Sankatmochan, who was grasping the other shoulder, was also pallid and tearful, but he appeared to be a little more in control of his emotions.

Keeping her voice as steady as possible, Nandini said, "Mochi bhaiya, help me take him to the car."

Sanaktmochan shook his head miserably. "The driver got frightened when he saw - he took off with the car."

"Then that car there -"

"It won't run."

She glanced around and saw an apologetic-looking man.

"Two of its tires have burst," Jiva said nervously.

"And those two cars belong to Indrajit," Sankatmochan added wretchedly. "I'll just call for an ambulance."

Mopping at his eyes, he had just reached into a pocket when another man spoke up from behind Jiva.

"Don't waste your time. He will be dead before it reaches here," Indrajit drawled, strolling forward a few steps to regard the group clustered near Prithvi.

Sankatmochan bridled with antagonism. "You -"

"You're right, we can't wait for an ambulance," Nandini cut in softly, addressing Indrajit. "You have to help us take him to the hospital." She knew the layout of the town. The hospitals and private clinics were very far away and the journey to this place had been nothing less than a perplexing maze. The ambulance would take more than an hour to reach. They couldn't wait for that long.

She heard someone gasp, apparently at her recklessness. But she didn't care…..she would do anything to save him….and once he'd recovered, she would kill him.

Sankatmochan cast an alarmed glance at Prithvi and saw the expected darkening on the pain-ravaged face, and then his infuriated friend growled, "Nandini!"

But though her lips pursed, she didn't turn.

Indrajit stared at her with astonishment. "And why would I do that?" he asked with an intrigued expression that made goosebumps erupt on Sankatmochan's arms.

Nandini loosened her clutch on the shirt and walked a few steps ahead until she was directly facing him. Then she quietly said, "Because you're a human being. And if that's not enough, then do it because he's your brother."

Indrajit harshly said, "You are clearly deluded. Because the only regret I have right now is that I wasn't the one who ended his life."

Sankatmochan shivered at the edginess in Indrajit's tone. The psychopath was definitely losing patience. He looked at Prithvi, who was somehow managing to appear ferociously angry despite losing strength with every passing moment. 

The first traces of desperation surfaced on Nandini's face. "You have to help us! Just let us take him to the hospital in one of your cars…Please!" she beseeched.

"Stop begging in front of that ********!" a faint but angry voice ordered in the background.

Nandini shut her eyes and breathed deeply but didn't turn.

Indrajit felt only disgust for the girl's pathetic pleading. He wasn't even sure why he was still standing in this unpleasant area with a bunch of foolish people while they idiotically shed tears over Prithvi.

"He's not going to make it. So instead of risking your own life by annoying me, spend your time holding his hand while he bleeds to death," he advised unfeelingly.

Despair began glimmering in her eyes as tears. "You can't – you have to - Please help us," she pleaded, joining trembling hands in supplication.

"That's enough, Nandini!" Prithvi bristled in an extremely weary but rough tone.

"He's right, stop humiliating him with this begging," Indrajit grimaced. "I've been waiting for him to die from the day I heard of his birth. I'm not going to help even if he himself pleads for -"

Prithvi snarled, "I'd rather die than  -"

Nandini whirled towards him at last.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" she screamed.

Startled, Prithvi stared at her with a new element of caution, as if only just realising the intensity of the emotions that were raging within her. Sumer Singh and Sankatmochan were also gazing at her very warily.

She spun back to see a small frown on Indrajit's visage, but then his features lightened. "Let me know once you cremate him. I'll need to celebrate," he smiled soullessly and began walking towards his car.

"You bas***d," she hissed venomously

The malevolent rage compressed into the words reverberated in the silent area. Everyone froze in their spots.

Indrajit stopped and slowly turned to face her.

"He will not die! I will not let him die," Nandini promised fiercely. "You can go back to your miserable life! But remember, how much ever pain he is in at this moment, you'll endure worse – a thousand times worse!"

Now battling to keep his eyes open, Prithvi looked at Indrajit. There was a dangerous emptiness on the thin man's features. 

For the first time since the fight had begun, nauseating terror seized Prithvi. A terror so stark that it deadened the abominable throbbing in his chest, leaving only a black and icy numbness in his mind and body. He wanted to drag Nandini back, or at least clamp a hand over her mouth to stop her from shouting out another word. But he was finding it difficult to even hold onto consciousness. Everything was getting increasingly blurry and his legs were starting to buckle….

"Mochi, stop her….stop her please," he muttered urgently as he slid down the wall, leaving a crimson trail.

Sankatmochan nodded feverishly. Leaving Sumer Singh to support Prithvi, he hurried towards Nandini. He caught her by the arm and tried to tug her backwards, frenziedly whispering, "He'll kill you! Don't – don't fight with him."

Nandini shoved his hand away without taking her eyes off Indrajit. 

"You'll beg mercy from him one day! Beg for someone to be by your side! But you'll live alone and die alone! And then you'll burn in hell for ever!" she cursed spitefully.

At a distance, Jiva, who had run to the car to open the door for Indrajit, waited in voiceless gloom for his master to ask for the gun. Then again, he had never seen Indrajit kill a woman until today. So it was more possible that he would ask one of them to kill the girl.

Jiva swore to himself that he wouldn't do it. He earnestly wanted to help Prithvi himself, and his conscience balked at Indrajit's cruelty. And the girl was simply voicing her anguish. He was certain the girl's curses would bear effect if they left without helping, because she belonged to the priestly sect. Everyone knew that to hurt or harm such a person was to invite disaster upon yourself.

But then one of his friends moved towards the girl threateningly.

Nandini transferred the gaze of seething derision onto the approaching guard. "You're going to hit me? You think you can? Take one more step and try it!" she spat viciously.

Taken aback by the unexpectedly aggressive threat, the man halted and glanced around to realise that none of the others had moved from their spots. He abruptly wished he had not allowed loyalty to dictate his actions.

When the girl had first stepped out of the car, he had been slightly stunned by her incredible beauty. And she'd looked so vulnerable and harmless. At the moment, however, her face was a mask of murderous temper, the front of her dress was drenched with blood, the long black hair was flowing wildly down her shoulders and there seemed to be crackling field of violent energy around her.

She was unarmed and slender. But he was sure that at this moment she could tear him into shreds with her bare hands. 

Sankatmochan fearfully looked from the mortified guard to Indrajit, who was clearly beginning to emanate menace. He had a revolver and so did Sumer Singh. But from past experience he knew that all of Indrajit's guards would be armed. He couldn't risk his family getting hurt further by stray bullets.

Desperate to protect Nandini, he yelled, "She's mentally ill! Doesn't know what she's saying! We're treating her for it! You – all of you can go….I mean, you can do as you wish," Sankatmochan said frantically, vainly pulling at her arm in a terrified plea.

Indrajit cast him a glacial glance. "If she doesn't stop screaming, I'll cure her illness once and for all," he said icily and started to stride away.

 "He could have killed you that day, but he didn't! You owe your pathetic life to him, you ********!" Nandini cried out angrily, as tears helplessly poured down her face. "You may live for a hundred years but every breath you take is his charity…..you will live – and die - in his debt!" she denounced bitterly.

As Indrajit paused again, Sumer Singh sensed a movement by his side and pulled his astounded gaze from the scene to see Prithvi turn chalk-white. 

"Baba, stop her….please….he - he'll kill her," Prithvi mumbled distraughtly, struggling to remain conscious.

Death had never been a terrible proposition for him, but he couldn't bear to see its shadow looming on her. He would gladly die a million times if her life would be spared in return.

Sumer Singh continued to hold him securely and quietly said, "He won't….not anymore."

Indrajit stood motionless for another moment. There was no anger or disdain on his countenance, only a peculiar blankness. Then he silently began strolling towards his car.

As Indrajit neared, Jiva opened the door with his gaze on the ground, afraid to show his frustration openly. But when Indrajit didn't step into the car, he cautiously peeked up at his master's sallow face.

Indrajit looked directly at him and gave a barely perceptible nod, then instantly got into the car and slammed the door shut….

***********************