The Highway

Adil's presence at that moment weighed heavier than the hours of the drive to the city. I needed some kind of emotional and mental support, a consolation that I wasn't alone in this.  I knew though it wouldn't come, so I didn't turn to him, and hugged myself, moving my hands up and down my arms. Every pore of my body seemed to have been embracing particles of cold, adamant on not letting them escape. 

"We'll get her back." I heard him say, and turned my gaze at him only to find clear signs of distress spread on his face, as if it had asked for a lot of resolve to utter the few words he had. 

A lump forward in my throat. At least he had tried. "Promise?" My voice broke and I had to purse my lips to repress the sob fighting to gasp out.

Adil's jaw was clenched. "Yeah."

I heaved in a long breath, trying to overcome the sudden urge to cry on his shoulder, to feel his warmth, to listen to his comforting words. My mind took me to the memories of Bilal, and I thought how such an odd moment it was to crave for his presence. Straightening up as I sensed Mr. Iqbal walking back into the room, I averted my eyes and clenched my fingers. 

"SP Shah is a very smart man." Mr. Iqbal informed, looking clearly pleased by the conversation he was done with. "He immediately instructed what should be done, and I must say it seems effective by the sound of it." Sitting down on the sofa across from Adil, he continued after a brief pause. "You got the money?"

Adil gave a silent nod. 

"Cash?" 

"Cheque."

"Get the cash. Handing over a cheque would give the kidnappers the impression that we intend to keep a check on them when they'd come to withdraw. It'd be too risky for them, so there's a chance they won't let you go, fearing you have some kind of backup. So what needs to be done is, get cash and then both of you leave for the address they gave. SP will alert the Inspector of the nearest post, who would only take off when you'd have reached. Considering these are smugglers, if they see another girl, they'd definitely wouldn't want to let her go. Now listen to me calmly, it sounds dangerous, but if you want to escape them with your sister, you need to do this. Are you ready?" He asked, peering at me.

What choice did I have? I agreed. 

"And you Adil? Do you want to risk it?"

He shouldn't, so I interrupted before Adil could have responded. "The man told me to come alone."

For a fleeting moment, Mr. Iqbal was quiet. "Then you have to go alone." He raised his hand his eyes on Adil, and when I followed his gaze, I realised Adil had opened his mouth to protest. "She has to Adil, we have got to follow their orders, and not give them a single doubt that she has come with a plan. You can be with the Inspector if you want to involve yourself." 

"But what if-"

Mr. Iqbal didn't let him finish. I wanted to know what he was going to say. "We won't let what ifs happen. Your cousin here would go there, they'd take the money and grab at her too. While she'd struggle and resist, the Inspector would have already taken off. The nearest post from the highway is at a distance of almost fifteen minutes of drive. Not more than that." He fixed his eyes on my face, as if looking for traces of fear. "You would have to hang in there for just fifteen minutes. Even if they'd left the place by the time our men reach, we can still follow them-"

"Are you even hearing yourself uncle?" Adil sounded incredulous.

"They're not going to hurt her Adil, they need the girls alive."

" What if you can't catch them?"

He sighed. "We won't let what ifs happen, the SP promised."

"I'm going with her." Adil spoke firmly. "Putting up a physical fight would buy us a few more minutes."

"Physical fight can end up fatal, Adil." Mr. Iqbal sounded stern

"I'll take a pistol with me."

"You're talking reckless. It'll take one bullet at the right place and you'd be gone. They're expected to have professional shooters, for God's sake."

"You're telling me to sit like fools, do you know that?"

"Oh please, tell your manly ego to sit with ease, and let the professionals do their work." Mr. Iqbal sounded suddenly annoyed at Adil. 

I saw him tense up at the light reprimand. Mr. Iqbal's comment dispirited me a little, I had been feeling a little grateful that Adil had been wanting to help that badly. But his sentence of actuality notified me with a brutal shake that I had been creating illusions in my mind. Sometimes, truth is better left unsaid. Ignorance is sometimes bliss.

Adil didn't interfere again, did not make an effort to protest. Mr. Iqbal instructed me to leave the house after that, told me to head straight to the bank, get the notes and put them in a duffel bag and then start for the address in the text the kidnappers had sent. I forwarded it to Adil so they could follow me there. He wanted to come with me to the bank, but cumulating a firm tone, I told him to stay put. 

And then I left the apartment. Alone. 

---

It was a long drive. I kept thinking about how it'll all end up. If Bisma would be alive. If I'd be alive. My mind kept going back to my Father, wondering if he was alright, if he'd gained consciousness. It scared me how all of a sudden my stable life had crumbled down into ruins. How I was at the verge of losing everything. 

The sun was setting in the horizon, and it seemed to be taking my reserves of energy with it. I felt like I had no will to live left, I wanted to give up so badly. I wanted someone else to save Bisma and then save me. I wanted to sit back and wait while others brought everything back to normal. Just like Father had done all my life. He'd never let us do anything, always cleaning up our mess for us. I wasn't used to struggle and hardships. Adil was right - I was used to comfort and luxuries, I was weak, and I didn't want to step out of my comfort zone. 

Moisture clouded my vision, and I had to stop the car to avoid an accident.Tyres screeched as I stepped on the brake and pulled up haphazardly by the side. A couple of vans passed in a blur as I rested my head on the steering and sobbed, letting out a gush of tears I had been holding back for the entire day. I sobbed at my sheer helplessness, at my pitiful loneliness, I wallowed in my sorrows. When no more tears came out, I looked up, saw the wet wheel through the clouded vision, and then gazed out the window. 

A prayer escaped my lips as I realised with a fresh wave, that I wasn't really alone. The one who could bring such beautiful colors to the sky, was watching me, listening to me, saw me crying, was waiting for me to ask Him for help that only He could provide. So I asked Him, and when I did, it was like the clouds had shaded me from the blistering heat of the sun. I miraculously felt relieved, reassured that all was going to be okay. I wiped my face, my eyes and faced the road ahead. With newfound determination, I pressed my foot on the accelerator and drove the car forward - ready to face with courage and patience whatever might come, believing He was there to help me through it.

I willed all the despairing thoughts at bay, and turned on the recitation of His ninety nine names on my phone and kept all my attention on the driving. I stopped only when I had reached the small roadside shop. I could make out the rear of a truck under the dim sky, peeking from behind the stretched building of the inn, which had a portion of bathrooms, an open kitchen and covered place for a dine in. It was a cheap restaurant of sorts, with the paint of its walls peeled off, and I had no doubt it had no proper sanitation.

With my heart thundering inside my chest, I turned my phone off, took the duffel bag, and climbed out of the car. Inhaling a deep breath I started towards the old building.

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