Chapter 9- The Game Begins…and Ends?
So I decided to keep it to myself, what I was thinking. Angad would never let me risk my life like I had planned. He was mad at me the rest of the night, but that's okay. We were both mad at each other. Aaliya pressed the matter further.
"What are you thinking, Kripa?" She asked again, and again and again. I shrugged her off several times. I called the ACP.
"Vicky Sir." I said sternly. The plan was meant to be quickly executed; I knew my two partners would hate me for it.
"Kritika, what was the reason to your call?" He asked, slyly. His voice dripped smugness. It irritated my soul.
"You fired my husband. You trashed my lair, you crashed my system. You've tried to sell me and my best friend numerous times. I think we should call it open battle." I said.
"It's been open battle, sweetheart."
"No. I mean physical battle. Me versus you. No one else."
"Physical battle? Why, daresay, would you request that?" He chuckled.
"Do or die, sir. Do or die." I replayed his words through the phone.
"I see you've got the memory of a tigress."
"A wounded one?" I asked, feeling him smirk on the other end.
"Indeed, but are you sure about no one else? No foul play, now Kritika. We all know how your mind works."
"All is fair in love and war, sir." I replied haughtily.
"So, I presume you're deeming every move fair?"
"So I am."
"Where will we be meeting?"
"Sunset Point, near the dead willow. At sundown." He chuckled at the mention of the place.
"A dead tree to house a dead girl." So that was the plan.
"One gun. No knives, no rifles. One standard, six bullet gun. Understood?"
"Understood. Quite the rule-setter you are." He chuckled again.
"Goodbye, sir. See you at sundown."
"See you at sundown." I clicked the phone shut to find Aaliya watching me.
"Kripa, no." She said, sternly.
"Aaliya, I have to do this." I said, near breathless.
"I'm coming with you." She said, loading her gun. I took it from her hands.
"No one is coming with me." I said, loading the rest of the bullets to their respective silver chambers.
"I'm coming." She repeated stubbornly. I glanced at her, pleading.
"This is too damn dangerous, Kripa. You can get killed." That's kind of the point, I thought.
"Aaliya, this isn't Kripa going. This is Kritika going. I'm not going to get killed. I'm going to end that bas***d's life."
"I'm praying that you do. I know you will." Aaliya sighed. "Can I tell Bhai?"
"No. I'm going alone." I resolved. Aaliya nodded helplessly and I could see her silently praying to her patron goddess, Kali. In fact, she was my patron goddess too. Out of all of a woman's form, Kali was the best. Laxmi, the goddess of prosperity and fertility was inspiring, Saraswati, the goddess of marital bliss. Savitri, the ideal wife, and the one who was ready to sacrifice herself for her man…they were all fine. But the one that fought back, Durga. She wasn't a damsel in distress, she was the heroine.
Actually, growing up the three of us decided we'd do whatever it took to survive. Angad was a con man for a while too; he was the one who taught us adaptation; the one originating the idea to change in order to fit in with your surroundings. But who wanted to fit in? We just didn't want to be noticed, not being suspected was our technique.
Several times, I and Aaliya took shelter in mandirs and mosques to escape suspicion, a church once too. We knew how to and we did pray to every God there was. They were all one. What was the point of dedicating yourself to one single religion?
I saw Angad busy on the phone in the other room, I saw the sun set. I took the loaded gun from Aaliya and proceeded into my car. Soon enough, I was standing by the willow. Once, tall and proud the tree was now wilted and weeping. It saddened me a bit until anger burned through the sorrow when I saw Vicky Sir.
"Hello, sir." I said, politely gritting my teeth.
"Kritika darling, you mustn't call me that. So who shall die today?" He asked, perkily. I rolled my eyes and saw a car behind his. A red Mustang, my heart sank.
"You brought him?" I asked, stuttering on purpose.
"Why yes, I've gave him a proposal. This is his chance to earn his job back."
"You're a bas***d." I spat. He chuckled. Angad walked out of his car, trying to act composed. He wasn't. I could read him better than that. He was shaking in his boots.
"Well, son." He looked to Angad. "There's your criminal. One encounter and you've got your job back." I wanted him to get his job back, I smiled at him. He looked away in disdain. Vicky Sir nudged him a bit. Angad pulled a gun out. He pointed at me. His hands were shaky.
"Do it, Angad. C'mon." I said, encouraging him in a whisper. He stared at my lips, reading my words. He was near tears. One thing the police force didn't teach him was living without me.
"Angad, shoot!!" I screamed. "SHOOT!" I repeated. I awaited my death packaged in that tiny bullet. Bullets, really. Angad knew he could shoot me once and pretend to have done the job but all three of us present were far too smart for that. At least, three would be necessary to take me down. I wished he'd lodge all six into me.
Of all the possible moves Vicky Sir could try, I knew this was the one he would pull. I could have put blanks in Angad's gun, but we were too old for those childish games. Today's game plays with death. Sighing, I pulled out my own gun. Holding it to my own head I said, "Angad, you can shoot or I can do it myself!" I said, my finger slowly inching pressure onto the trigger. I saw Angad shoot, my leg. Then one in my shoulder. Another through my arm and the last I felt go through my ribcage. Black took over me as I fell to the red dust.
As I fell to the dust, the most random thought came to mind. When people die, no one really hears a goddamn fly buzz in their ear. There's not my life flashing before my eyes. I don't remember my god. I think, god. I wonder if I'm gonna survive this one. I've grown accustomed to that thought.
For people like me, Aaliya, and Angad…death was FAR too overrated. It wasn't filmy. That was the last thought I could remember before I felt life drain out of me.
Change of POV- Angad
"Well, son. There's your criminal. One encounter and you've got your job back." He told me. I don't want my damn job back. I want my wife. I want my wife to shoot you to a million pieces, I wanted to tell him. Was he serious, was this his "golden opportunity"? I pulled my gun out, unbelieving. I pointed it at Kripa, my hands trembled. She wanted me to shoot. I saw her say it. She said 'Angad, C'mon.' Why did she come here? Why was she making me do this?
She pulled out a gun and held it to her head. Her finger was about to tug at the trigger, I shot her in the calf. The conversation replayed in my head 'Duty is something you swear yourself to Angad. You swore yourself to duty much before you did to me.'
Dammit Kripa! I felt my heart dip into my stomach as I shot her shoulder. I felt like I was swallowing my heart back when I shot her elbow. I felt it sink back into place as I shot through her stomach. And when I saw her fall into the dust, I felt my heart explode into a thousand pieces at the thought that I, Inspector Angad Khanna, had just shot the woman I loved most. I killed my wife; I killed the woman I dedicated my whole life to. I didn't dare go near that body, what was left of my life partner. I was far too scared.
I felt like she was going to open her eyes and ask me why. Why I did this? What was I supposed to say…you made me? That was my remarkable excuse, you made me do this. She was mad at me when she died. No. She was mad at me when I killed her.
I stood there and dropped my gun. ACP chuckled like the maniac of the idiot he was, and drove off in his second hand Cadillac.
I stared at what remained of her, her eyes were closed. Her mouth parted, her hair was fanned out on the red dirt. I wanted to shake her out of her slumber, but I found I couldn't move. I stood there, glued in place. I wished I could move. I wished I could fall off of that cliff. I wished Kripa would have never come here.
This was another one of her dumb setups. I could tell. It had failed so terribly, I felt tears spring to my eyes.
I pulled at my hair. I wish I could pull it all out. She was gone, I breathed hard. She wasn't coming back. The thought settled into me, sinking to the core of my being, taking my soul with it. It finally registered.
The then unsettling words, replayed through my mind. "If one day, you had to kill me. I'd be happy to die by your hands."
She wanted me to do this. Kripa Khanna killed herself. I was about to die of exasperation, this is what she wanted? Kripa would never….this was the strangest category of suicide I had seen.
"Suicide." I repeated to myself, as I finally found the unknown courage to drive home. I thought aloud all night, "Suicide."
Edited by kIrAn...E>GA<3 - 16 years ago
comment:
p_commentcount