Darkness- Turn off the Lights

Chapter 1: The Past

Chapter 1: The Past

   It was a Sunday morning. The sun was shining right above his head. The winds were blowing hard and heavy, ruffling his hair. The building he was standing on was the first building built in the area. It was ancient. Yes, he loved antiquity and he loved adventures that go down in history. The well-built body, with a perfect stature stood in the perfect stance for a jump- a historic one. His hands were spread like the wings of an eagle. He tried to estimate the wind's speed and direction. His legs were spread apart with the left leg ahead at the edge of the building terrace. He knew his legs were going to be under pressure after the fall and he had to maintain the same stance throughout the action.
   He looked at the crowd below that was screaming and cheering. Then he looked to see the end of the horizon. He always respected that infinite line that taught him what separates the sky and the earth. If he kept on walking on Earth, he would never cross that line. To reach there, he needed to fly. And to fly is exactly what he intended to do. The countdown to the next phase toward fame began. He closed his eyes and opened them again. This time they were calculating... concentrating... meditating... The huge blue airbag looked like a tiny spot to him. For any 7-year-old kid, he might have seemed to be a superhero.  But, his eyes betrayed his identity. They were young and gleaming with joy. He had carried the same eyes of a child throughout 21 years of his life. He had the same eyes even when he encountered adventure for the first time. It was a long time ago. But, the eyes were always the same...

   It was 7 years ago... A windy Monday night... Michael (Mike) Horto, a 14-year-old boy was walking through the quiet streets of Mumbai. He was a simple boy studying in the 9th grade until a night in his life arrived like a hailstorm. It changed his life forever...

-X-

   Mumbai is a city around which, the economy of India revolves. High crime rates are also observed. To an outsider, the city people may seem to be living in harmony. But, within the city there are many, who have with them weapons, enmity, hatred and above all, many dark secrets... Oblivious to all this, was the 14-year-old Mike. He was born and brought up in Mumbai. His parents, John (Joe) Horto and Elaine Horto, had a small apartment in the suburbs. It was spacious enough for the three of them. Luxury and big money were never the dreams of these middle-class Indians. Joe worked for an insurance company and Elaine quit working ever since Mike started going to school.
   That Monday, Mike had had a bad day. His final results had arrived and they surely didn't deserve any awards. He had politely listened to Joe, Elaine, and his teacher, Mohan Singh, scolding on top of their voices. Things kept getting worse that day. His allowances had been cut for a month. Joe had been unusually stern, "No TV, no games, no playing- you're grounded, son!"
   His bad luck never ended. But, he had always handled this kind of stuff before and he could handle all the pressure again. Had he remained a normal 14-year-old kid, things would have gone quite unnoticed and Mike's life would have been a lot more monotonous. But, no... Mike was special. He had something in him. It was time to prove it to himself.
   He had gone shopping for groceries that night. It was just too late and to his misfortune, all the shops had closed down. The mall that would have been open was too far. He decided to return home. Unusually, that Monday, he chose the deserted quiet streets a couple blocks away from his home. The silence was so prominent that his heartbeats sounded like the music of drums. Crickets and other nocturnal insects could be heard distinctly. It was the perfect setting for a spooky story, vaguely like what Mike's grandma used to narrate to him. Call it fate or "karma", he walked down that street all alone. And then, they came...
   He heard footsteps. They were far away. But they came closer with every beat of his heart. He figured some men were running. There was an odd ring to the unison in the sounds of the footsteps. Then he heard voices. He turned around to look. Terror and fear were leaping in his stomach. All he knew was that a flashing second later, two men held him by the neck. They were looking ahead into the darkness. Around him, there were half a dozen more men following their gaze. Almost all of them had guns and knives in their hands.
   The two men on each of his side looked alike with hideous faces. Just the sight of them accelerated his heartbeat. The one to his left had a scar running through his forehead. He had jet black hair, kept untidy. In the light of the street bulbs, Mike could see nothing but deep darkness in his black eyes. The one to his right, on the other hand, had a well-built body. His brownish hair and the wise look in his eyes emanated leadership. It seemed to Mike as if he were the one who was giving orders down there. He was panting as he said loudly, "Back off! A step closer and kid's done! Get back... NOW!"
   For the moment, he was petrified. He felt dizzy and was about to faint. The world around him was fading away. It was sheer fear that kept him standing on his feet. He didn't know who the men around him were. He didn't know who were the men hidden by the darkness. He didn't know why on earth they chose him to be in the middle of their action. Swimming in this pool of ignorance, all he knew at that instant was fear. He wished he were in one of his grandma's stories. He wasn't. It took him less than a second to realize that.
   He didn't wait any longer. He heard the footsteps backing off in the darkness, but he didn't stop his actions. With a few swift movements, he ducked and snatched the gun from the person to his right. He almost tripped himself in the act, and was pulled to the earth by his own weak knee. He shot somewhere above him, didn't wait to watch his target. He gathered himself and ran- he ran like he never ran before. He ran for his dear life. Behind him he could hear moaning and screaming. There were men shouting, followed by two gunshots. But, that was all that he remembered. The next thing he remembered was that he was home, panting and sweaty.

-X-

   Elaine and Joe were shocked. They covered their son with a blanket as he was shivering like never before. They were wondering what might have happened that made their son cry. They had never seen him cry before. Then again, they had never seen so much fear in his eyes. They had never seen their sweet Mike like this. Joe was sitting in his bedroom, his head covered in his hands. Elaine was sitting on the couch in the living room, her son's head resting on her lap. She spread all the motherly warmth to her son. Mike felt secure in his mother's arms. He knew his parents were there for him. He knew nothing could touch him. For the first time in his life, he understood why he called his parents, "Mom" and "Dad". These words had strength. They gave him courage to go ahead. They comforted him and told him, "It's fine. You can go to sleep now."
Mike dozed off to sleep within moments.
   It was next morning. It was a new day. The sun had risen and was shining brightly. The rays of light entered the Hortos' apartment and woke up the family. Elaine had fallen asleep on the couch. Mike was still sound asleep in her lap. Joe was already up and his sleepy eyes were searching for the newspapers. Elaine gently placed a pillow under Mike's head and stepped into the kitchen to prepare 2 cups of coffee. Neither of the adults spoke about the day before. They remained silent and went on with their daily routines as usual. It was not the right time yet. They would talk. But, later...
   Mike shifted uneasily on the couch. Joe had an eye on Mike while he was sipping his coffee. He held "Times of India" in one hand. The refreshing aroma of the coffee and the fresh news filled the room. Elaine busied herself again in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Joe's eyes narrowed, and a piece of news caught his attention. He could sense something murky in the news. He was about to get answers to some questions now. The headlines read-

"Terrorists hit the Town Again"

12th April, 2008: Mayhem hits the town as bloodshed and terrorism find its way into Mumbai suburbs. The incident is rumored to have taken place at around 11:45 P.M. in the silence of the night. In the peaceful area of Vaishishya Nagar, where crimes are reportedly low, an incident took place that will horrify the entire nation. The local citizens have reportedly heard gunshots in the dead of night. It is a wake-up call for all of us to be on the alert. This event is sending ripples of fear vibes throughout the city. The details of the incident are vague, but the media and journalists are all over to uncover the story. But, try as hard as we may, no new information is coming up...

For more details, see page 12.

"Honey, come have a look at this," said Joe in a shock.

-X-

   The rooms were covered in white. The white paint, the glossy finish with the expensive glasses, and the large rooms gave a luxurious look to the house. The furniture was made of imported wood and glass. The floors were tiled with glass slabs that looked exotic. The living room was large enough for an office gathering. Every spot in the house was spotless- inexplicably clean. The bedrooms were too large for one person. All necessary and even unnecessary facilities were readily available. The bathrooms were beautiful with in-built Jacuzzi and Steam bath. The shower came with radio and music. The swimming pool at the side of a huge garden gave the house a final touch of perfection.
   It was Mr. Shekhar's house. He was a very rich, unmarried man. He had money enough for his next generation to live on. But, it was never enough. That's what happens once money gets to one's head. Even with all the money, he kept a very low profile. Even though he wasn't married he would have frequent visitors at odd times. That was where his social interactions ended. Not many people had seen this house. Even if anyone did, no one knew to whom it belonged. Shekhar Sehgal wanted things like that. He didn't look for fame. All he wanted was money to keep pouring in.
   There were four men in the lavish living room. Two men were wearing branded jeans, t-shirts from Levi's and identical denim jackets. They had a handsome look that women fall for. The other two wore formal suits. They seemed to be more of the business type. The room was filled with tension. Shekhar would barge in any moment now and display a fit of rage. Abdul and Afreen, the men in the jackets were ready at the mini bar at the corner of the living room. Keeping their boss drinking would be the only way to escape. Jack and Ankur, eased themselves on the sofa. None of the four raised their eyes. Everyone looked down on the floor as the glass had something important to say. That was when the storm entered...
   The huge front door was fit for the entry of a King from the royal bloodline. When it opened with noise, the person who entered seemed nothing less than a king. The man was tall and above 6 feet. He took long strides into the living room. His brown eyes were wide open and they gave the warnings of rage. He wore perfectly fitting formal shirt and trousers. He loosened his red tie and threw it on the couch. A servant followed the tie and took it to his master's bedroom. Shekhar clapped his hands together and another servant came into the living room from the kitchen.
   "Go get me a glass of juice. NOW!" Shekhar was in one of his worst moods.
   "Yes, sir..."
   "I was about to fix you a drink, Mr.Sehgal," Abdul spoke in a low, gentle voice.
   "No, none of that now. I need to think straight."
   The servant was back with his juice. Shekhar took a large sip from the glass and started speaking in a loud voice, "Abdul, I want everything under control. NOW, DAMMIT! The journalist- Harsh Patel or something like that. Get hold of him. Give him a dose or two. Make sure he doesn't goddamn write anything about mayhems and stuff! Put Faisal on the phone. I need to have a chat with him too. I thought yesterday was under CONTROL-"
   "I assure you-"
   "Do not interrupt me, Abdul. I told you Afreen, a hundred times. It was important that no one knew. It was just too important to keep it low. But no, you guys wanna be heroes. You people wanna hit the headlines in the newspapers. This is such a slap in the face. The article is in ‘Times of India', ‘Hindustan Times' and even ‘Mid-day'. I don't give a damn what it takes. But, you two just hush up everything."
   Shekhar turned to the well-dressed gentlemen in suits and continued in an even louder voice, "Pull strings all over the place. I don't care what you do or how you do. But, just do it. There are policemen trying to kick ass. They are getting hotter on me day by day. STOP THEM! Stop the whole flock. Jack, Ankur, I'm paying you a fortune not to JUST SIT THERE AND LOOK AT THE FLOOR. Look up and answer- WILL YOU DO IT?"
   "Yes," said Jack.
   "Surely," added Ankur.
   Shekhar finished the juice in his glass and gave it back to the servant. He turned back to Abdul and Afreen, and spoke in a much calmer and softer voice, "Some kid, eh? You say he ran away shooting one of their men? I guess he is one helluva kid. Faisal will recognize him, right?  When you get Faisal on the phone, tell him to take care of the kid within two days. That's it for now. I'm gonna take a nap. I need to think clearly. Cancel out everything on my schedule today. I'm calling sick. I'll meet all four of you in 3 hours right here."
   Shekhar was right. Mike was ‘one helluva kid'. But he didn't remain there. He had grown up. He had grown up enough to start his own adventures. He loved climbing rocks and hills. He loved skydiving. He loved many adventurous feats. And he dreamt of many, of which one was to jump from the top of an eight storied building without support...

-X-

   The crowd below cheered. Three... Two... One... Mike jumped. He really did jump from a height of about 35 meters. The fall was just for about 2-3 seconds. But, that little time was like hell for Mike. The wind was speeding heavily against his face. His clothes were being blown upward. Mike could barely open his eyes, so he decided to keep them closed. Maybe because he closed his eyes, or because of the wind, somewhere between the fall his right leg betrayed him. It lost the balance and was swaying wildly out of position. And then with a loud thud, Mike landed on the air bag. A couple bounces brought him to rest.
   His right leg had landed on the knee while the rest of the position was perfect. But, the fall sent shocks of pain up his right knee. He cried out loudly in pain. Medical aid was rushing in. They applied ointments on his knee and he felt the pain burn away. He decided to close his eyes and hoped to doze off. Ever since he was a kid, sleep had always protected him.
   When he woke up, he was in his apartment- the same, old apartment Joe had bought. His leg was covered with plaster. He opened his eyes just in time to see the doctor leaving, having given a few instructions to Elaine. She closed the door and came up to his son. She didn't speak anything. Her son had always scared the wits of her. But, she never wished to come in the way of his passion and his adventures. She wanted him to live his life, no matter how scary he made it for her. Mike knew all that very well. He just smiled at Elaine and sat upright. Joe entered the apartment in rage. Mike asked, "Bad day, dad?"
   "Well, let's see. I want my son to go to church on Sunday mornings. But, instead he goes on jumping from the top of buildings. He gets himself hurt, wraps himself up in plaster and gets parceled home by the Medicaid people. So yeah, I guess it is a bad day."
   "Chill, dad! I'm OK. I'll be fine."
   "Let's go Elaine I promised Nikhil we would have lunch at his home. And listen son, try not to kill yourself while we're gone."
   Elaine smiled at Mike and said softly, "Your lunch is in the fridge. Have it when you feel hungry. We'll be back by 6."
   "Buh bye, Mom!"
   Mike watched his parents leave with a wide grin on his face. It was the same thing whenever he went crazy like today. The same, angry dad. The same mom being gentle and all smiles. Often, it was the same lunch kept in the refrigerator. Today was no different. Or so he thought...
   Just then he saw the mobile ring. It was a phone he never used. It was his. But, he never used it. He hoped he never would have to. But, deep inside he was always gripped with the fear of the phone ringing. And today, it rang. Dammit! Another horror story!
   He picked up the phone and answered the call.
   "Hello"
   "Tomorrow. 7 P.M. Rocker's swing the sweetness of dew drops. Fetch the finish of the drunkards. Yes or no?"
   "First, tell me who is it?"
   "Who else? Its your sweet pal, Faisal..."
   "Yes, see ya tomorrow."
   And then, it goes again. Another adventure begins. He was about to meet Faisal again. He could remember the guy very well. Well, he knew this day had to come. Today, it did. Mike was ready. He was ready to face anyone this time...