He then opened the backpack completely and emptied the contents of the first pouch onto the counter. Two large black objects tumbled out. Bole immediately began meddling with these. He connected a few wires on each of these devices. He then fished into the next pouch and pulled out a third, small black object- a remote. He flipped open the black cover and connected two wires. The remote beeped profusely. Bole tightened the wire and the beeping stopped.
Bole opened a tap and washed his hands and face. One major part over, he thought, now the next task was to only set the bombs in their place...
He lifted his dripping face above the basin, when something caught his eye. He turned to the window. Bole's eyes widened. How? Had his plan leaked? Why hadn't he noticed before? His eyes were almost the size of golf balls when he realized what he should do.
But it was too late.
Before he could move, he felt the pain in his chest. As he slowly fell, he looked at his killer through the small hole in the glass, and thought he saw a tiny wink. And everything went black.
**********
Adam Donald arrived well ahead of the parade. Two hours. But even two hours before the whole ceremony, the streets were packed. People were already wrestling for the best spots and were already chanting slogans. But Adam was not interested in these people. He could barely see them, nor was he trying. He was far away from them. Higher above, would be a better description. He sat at the terrace of a tall building, somewhere midway down the road on which the parade was to take place. He wore a black jacket, gloves and baggy pants. His face was left open to the cold, harsh wind that blew across the rooftops. His sniper was fully assembled and was already scanning the road periodically.
Fifteen minutes before the parade was scheduled to begin, Adam noticed something. The Bank of Georgeson – The squat building across the street from him – seemed suspicious. He put his eye against the telescopic sight of the sniper and scanned the street again. Then he realized the change. A window on the first floor had been blocked. Upon further scanning, Adam discovered that it was not blocked, but just covered with a dark paper. He tapped a button on the side of the sight and his field of vision went purple. He could see through the film on the window.
Adam watched Bole through the film, as he emptied out the contents of his backpack onto the counter. As Bole picked up each bomb and the remote, Adam slowly understood what was going on. He had competition. After about thirty seconds (which, in Adam's case, was a very long duration) of internal conflict, he made up his mind. He wrapped his finger around the trigger. He zeroed in on his target's head. At that moment, Bole looked up.
Adam couldn't help but think of the irony of the moment. A smile twitched at the end of his lips as he thought: They were both here for the same mission, each one in their own path. Unfortunately, their paths had collided and the best man had to win. With a slight twitch of the eye, he gave a wink.
With a slight ‘shut’ sound, which was drowned in the wind, it was over.
Adam waited for the next ten minutes, hoping no one would find the corpse of his competitor yet. At the dot of ten, the parade began, with loud music and louder cheers. Float after float came down the street. Finally, half an hour since the commencement of the parade, Mr Eggson Polkiss himself stood on the next float. He stood, waving at the crowd, who by this time had gone completely haywire on seeing their hero right in front of them. Cameras clicked rapidly at the town's superstar. Somewhere high above all this, Adam was ready, with the trigger firmly in his grip. At the right moment, he shot.
Being the ace sniper that he was, his shot had the desired effect. There was a few moments lapse before the people realized what had just happened. These few moments were what Adam required to make his getaway. Before the police had reached the scene, he was gone.
No one ever managed to find out who killed Eggson Polkiss. But they did discover Bole Kirk lying dead in a bank restroom with two bombs next to him. They knew that he shared his murderer with Polkiss. Secretly, the police were grateful to the murderer for saving the city from two serial bomb blasts.
~~~
A student’s Life, A Student’s death
I doubt this will make much sense to you. You don’t know the consequences.
There was the general clattering and chattering as forty six students pushed back their chairs and stood up. The soft murmur had grown into a steady babble of voices, drowning out the sounds of the evening outside. Students trudged out of the class, discussing weekend plans, cribbing about homework.
I joined into the crowd. I stepped slowly and quietly towards the door of the classroom with the others, talking to none. A friend of mine had been watching me throughout the class. He came up behind me and patted me reassuringly on the shoulder and told me I would be alright. I thought otherwise. Everyone trudged back to homeroom to pack up their bags and leave. I swiftly moved in another direction, a dangerous task ahead of me.
The corridor was empty and quiet. I could hear the last distant sounds of my friends laughing and talking as they left the building. I contemplated the task ahead, scanning my area of work. All the doors along the sides were locked. Only the door I was interested in, the one at the very end of the corridor stood ajar. The door of my interest was a solid oak door with a frosted glass panel. On the panel, in large letters, were the words “PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE”. I took a deep breath, scanned my surroundings for any movement- there was none- and entered.
It was a dark and cloudy day outside. The blinds of the principal’s office were drawn and the lights were off. The wood panelled office had a heavy air about it. In order to avoid attracting attention by switching on the lights, I pulled out a pen flashlight from my pocket, switched it on and held it between my teeth.
I had never been inside the principal’s office before and thus, I drank in the scene as quickly as I could. The walls were covered with pictures of the principal in various situations-getting a prize, giving a speech, hosting a contest, inaugurating the new wing of the school and so on….
My attention was drawn towards the heavy oak desk. The surface was covered with books, papers, forms, leaflets, pamphlets and…..and a single homework diary……MY homework diary…..
I hastily snatched up my diary and stuffed it into my backpack, covering up the empty space with some pamphlets. I stepped away from the desk and observed my handiwork. The table looked unaltered. I heaved a sigh of relief. Half my job was over. Now the only challenge left was to leave undetected. The principal would not be able to write that note to my parents and I would be safe.
Unfortunately, it was at this point that I heard the approaching footsteps and voices. The principal was returning to his office, accompanied by the headmistress. By the sounds of it, neither seemed to be in a very pleasant mood. Panic seized me and adrenaline rushed through my bloodstream. I began to convulse with fright. Trying to keep myself from screaming, I acted out of sheer desperation…..
They found my rotting body four days later. A week later, the whole story was pieced out and people shook their heads as to how a boy could throw himself out the third floor window just to avoid being caught by the principal. In retrospect, even I find it quite strange…..but I’ve learnt my lesson; fear of being caught can kill….
~~~
World War 3
The sound of a single gunshot echoed down the alley. Unfortunately, the alley was devoid of people. Except two men. One of which was the murderer, and the other, the soon-to-be deceased. The killer was not a criminal. He had no cases or files against his name in the police department. In fact, the world did not even know he existed.
He was a boy of around fifteen years of age, with spectacles and long hair. His complexion was not as fair as the Americans, among whom he was right now. He was holding his pistol as though he had never used it before.
Or so it seemed.
Before I dwell upon the murderer, let me describe the victim. The victim was a man several times older than his murderer. He was a man wi
th a million dollar smile. And over a million dollars in his bank account. He had a face and voice that almost all the world knew. Frankly speaking, he was the most powerful man on the earth.
The president of the United States of America stared at his murderer. His eyes grew as wide as they ever would be, and then, he fell dead.
The fifteen year old boy pulled out a cell phone. It was not the top-of-the line cell phone. But it was savvy enough to have a decent camera. He snapped a few pictures of the dead body, which now lay in a growing pool, of blood. He then flipped the body over with his toe and took a few more photographs of the dead man's face. He then sent the pictures to someone and then, continued down the alley.
If someone had been there to follow him, they would have seen his motive and who he really was, and they would have probably ended up dead as well. But there was no one.
Three hours later, a garbage man who was doing his duty in the alley found the body. He reported it to the cops and was convicted of murder.
Over the next few days, the prime minister and queen of England, the entire Indian government, the president of France, the heads of China and Japan were all found dead. Soon the earth was left with a bunch of leaders, blaming each other for the murders of these powerful people. It took these people a few more days to remember and realize the cause for all these murders.
If one had seen any two of the murders, they would have noticed that the murderer was always the same, dark, bespectacled, long haired youth. And if one had followed that youth, they would notice that he always headed for the nearest open, flat, ground. Upon reaching this flat surface, the youth would just vanish. There would be a lull for a few seconds, and then, a sandstorm would break out. Even if there was no wind in the area, waves of sand would be swept all across the ground. As though an invisible vehicle was performing a vertical takeoff.
In fact, that is EXACTLY what it was.
It all started three weeks before the murder of the president of the U.S.A.......
It was a rainy day at Washington DC. But the rain did not dampen the tourists' enthusiasm. The Capitol and the Mall (which was a large stretch of empty land in front of the Capitol) was filled with excited tourists, who were snapping pictures of the Capitol, which looked even bolder below the dark clouds.
Through the entire morning, a steady drizzle fell on the Capitol. Toward noon, it got heavier. Tourists began to run to shelter, although the more enthusiastic ones continued admiring the monuments despite the downpour. Suddenly, a rift opened between two clouds, directly above the monument. One would probably expect a bolt of lightning to fall from that rift.......but I must say, a bolt of lightning, even if it killed several people, would be much better than what did drop from the sky.
A Spaceship.
It was a subtle shade of silver, in perfect condition despite the light years of voyage. It dropped slowly and majestically onto the mall. It stopped a few meters above the ground. A door opened on its side and a teenage boy jumped out. He wore spectacles, had long hair and a dark complexion. He wore a raincoat, thus no one could see more than his face.
The “alien” raised his hand to a headset in his ear and mumbled something. He gave a tiny nod and then spoke loudly. His words were amplified and broadcasted to the entire area.
“People of earth. We do NOT come in peace. We come with an offer. Give us your people and resources. And in return, we will let you live. I will now put forth this proposition to the president. Any attempt to attack me or my ship will result in your immediate death.”
No one tried to stop the youth. He calmly walked into the Capitol. Fifteen minutes later he walked out and into his ship. Five minutes later, there was no trace of what had happened.
Now, three weeks later, the earth was left helpless against this mysterious alien threat.
A few kilometers above the Pacific Ocean, there was a shimmer in the sky. A docked ship- the same ship that made a public appearance at the mall. Upon that ship were four crew members. The one who had made the public appearances, for convenience sake let us call him Joe, paced up and down on the bridge. His crew-mate, Max, typed away rapidly on a computer, while simultaneously watching the ship's status. The third member, George, was in the next, auxiliary room, carefully scrutinizing earth TV footage about the alien invasion. The fourth member of the crew had gone on a “recreation trip”.
Joe looked at his crew mate, Max. With a slight note of accusation in his voice he said “I've been doing all your dirty work for you, when is my time off?”
Max didn't take his eyes off the computer. He replied “Once Jerry returns from his time off”. This heartened Joe. He quickly pulled out his own personal computer from within a storage unit and began browsing earth’s Internet for world weather broadcasts. “There is a city in India, Bangalore, which has heavy downpour this evening. I might as well take my time off there.” Max, the pilot of the ship, stared at Joe. But Joe remained unperturbed. Before either of them could say a word, the ship's hatch opened and a large man, soaking wet, entered the bridge of the ship.
Joe gave a whoop of excitement and a triumphant look at Max. Max glared at the newcomer with hostile eyes. The newcomer, Jerry, grinned at Joe and trooped into his quarters to change his clothes. Joe looked at Max and uttered one word-“Bangalore.” With a look of resignation Max piloted the spaceship over the Indian subcontinent and slowly descended over the city of Bangalore. Once he reached the top of the dense clouds over the city, he stopped the ship and arrogantly crossed his hands. “That’s all I'm going.”
Joe didn't care. He opened the hatch of the ship and, with a running start, hurled himself out of it. As he dropped through the cloud-cover, his appearance began to change- to his normal form. Huge leathery wings erupted from his back, his eyes turned from chocolate brown, to sulphur yellow. By the time he reached the bottom of the clouds, he had rust-red skin, a long tail and claws on all appendages. Spreading his large, leathery wings, he swooped down into the pouring grey rain.
**********
Gary Pathan's life was by no means a happy one.
He was the son of a famous athlete. But he himself was a complete failure. Or so he thought. He had failed miserably in his last four tests, his friends had completely forgotten his birthday and his parents had lost hope in his success. He was a short, stout boy, who was completely lacking in sports abilities. His academic abilities, too had failed him at the time of their greatest need.
Gary's tastes, too, were quite different. While anyone at school would die for a nomination for the elections of school captain, Gary had just forfeited his nomination. He believed that Adolf Hitler was not a criminal, but an inspirational man. He believed that the education system, government and political system- frankly speaking-sucked. His tastes in music too, were different for those of his age. He was not a fan of psychedelic rock or pop or hip hop or blues. He was a die hard fan of the 60's band- The Beatles. Gary had always been isolated from the others at his school. They made attempts to include him in their chats but always ended up regretting it.
Gary Pathan stared out into Bangalore's pouring rain. He stood passively on the balcony of his apartment, watching the faint grey buildings in the horizon. After a few moments, he snapped out of his trance. He had come to a decision. THE decision. He trudged into the elevator and took himself to the topmost floor. He then stomped out into the lashing torrent with rebellious determination. He walked right up to the parapet wall and stopped. He took a deep breath. 'I must.'
He got ready to jump. He was however totally unaware of several things. For example, he was unaware that a few blocks away, his mother had just swiped her credit card to buy Gary a new laptop. He was unaware that, at that very moment, his friends were sneaking into his house, to throw a surprise party for him. He was also unaware that, on the opposite building sat a large, gargoyle-like creature staring at him with large, sulphur yellow, eyes.
Gary took a running start and jumped.
**********
br /> Joe watched, perched on a building, as the short, stocky boy threw himself off the wall of the building. He had made up his mind. Max would loathe him to his core, but he wasn’t really bothered by Max’s feelings towards him. Joe watched the boy fall, and then slowly spread his wings. There was a strong gust of wind which kept the boy from reaching the ground immediately. Joe dived after the boy. With a flash of wings and a loud swish, he was gone.
*********
Gary Pathan ran through the rain and wind, he jumped onto the parapet wall and, like a spring, hurled himself into the air. An instant before he jumped, everything froze. He hung in the air for what seemed like eternity. And a single thought appeared in his head- 'But they love me.'
But it was too late.
Gary fell. His fall was not so direct thanks to the harsh wind. He dropped, drifted sideways, dropped some more. ' I can't die! Not now! I want to live! I want to live just for this! I want to FLY!' The feeling of dropping through the sky was absolutely wonderful and exhilarating.
It was at this point. At this very instant, when Gary was suspended midway through his fall to death, that Gary's entire fate changed. From a depressed and lonely boy, Gary, thanks to this very instant, became one of the world's most famous people. The details will be discovered as I go on.
All of a sudden, two large, rust red hands grabbed Gary from above. Clawed hands closed around his ribs, much to his surprise. He looked up and saw something that closely resembled what he thought was “the devil”. The beast had bright yellow eyes, small pointed horns and a fang-filled mouth. Gary screamed, but his cry was drowned out by the rain and the loud thump of the creature's large, rust red, leathery wings, beating hard to lift Gary and itself back into the sky.
**********
The human struggled weakly as Joe clasped him firmly and rose to the roof of one of the taller buildings. He set the human down. Threw him, would be a more appropriate word, and stood in front of him. He seemed to be hyperventilating and muttering something that sounded like “please don't take me, I'm sorry....” Joe returned to his human form. Once he was in the shape of the tall, long haired youth again, his captive got the courage to speak.