Valley of Death Page 10

  Rudolf in the meanwhile was flying in his Land Cruiser Prado, whistling pleasantly with ‘Lara’s theme’ from ‘Dr. Zhivago’ playing on the stereo. The image of beautiful and fulfilling Leena kept playing in his mind. All the tension, apprehension about the coming day, which was the hallmark of his earlier days, had gone. He had once again become his usual confident self; the aggressive and unpanicking man, which he was earlier.

  From time immemorial, the good and the evil forces have been destined for a head-on clash and a spectacular climax, and this time was no different.

  Volume 4

  THE EVIL SEASON

  CHAPTER 7: THE FRIGHT

  Payal was sitting in the balcony of her bungalow at Rajouri Garden in the nose-numbing chill on a dark night. Due to a power-cut, the entire neighbourhood was plunged into darkness; save the reflected light, coming from the houses that had generators and inverters. A frosty gust was coming from the direction of the trees and flowerbeds in the park beyond the main road that ran in front of the bungalow.

  She sat there waiting for the return of her husband Abhay, who had gone to a nearby restaurant to fetch supper. She had checked on her 1.5 month-old baby-daughter Anshul before she had come out and sat on a plastic chair. The baby was sleeping like an angel on her stomach with her tiny hands closed tightly in the shape of fists. Like every mother in the world who had ever lived, Payal could not help but appreciate the beauty of her baby with a deep smile, as she had gently kissed on her forehead.

  Sitting in the dimly lit balcony she mused how at one time in her life she actually thought that all this was worthless as compared to success as an actress. But all that seemed like a distant dream, like the life story of some other person, which she had only been seeing from a distance, as opposed to actually living it. Life is indeed stranger than fiction; people change with time; experiences re-shape their thinking, outlook, and feelings at different times in their life. So blissful and complete Payal felt, that even the news of the acquittal of Rudolf had failed to depress or dampen her spirits. For Payal at least it was all over and done with; it was her marriage, and now her family that occupied her every minute and clouded her emotional life.

  Payal did not know what it was - a low noise or mere intuition, which made her look to her left, to the dark corner of the balcony where none of the reflected light from other houses was reaching. She felt gooseflesh all over her skin as she looked with utter disbelief at what she saw! It was unmistakable; Bittoo stood there in a light-green coloured aura of light emanating from within him!

  The madman from the Warlock’s Circus was standing there looking directly at Payal; he looked just as he had been when she had seen him last. The same dirty and unbathed body, small hair, face unshaven for weeks, dirty eyes that moved feverishly in their sockets; shabby rags as clothes and worn out shoes. But it was not his presence but his appearance that scared Payal out of her wits.

  It did not take more than a few seconds for the woman sitting on a chair in her balcony to realize that before she stood not a man but a ghost. A ghost whose figure shone in the light-greencoloured light, which reflected on the floor and the wall behind him, and which also made his immediate surroundings shine in a green hue. She left her chair and spoke as if in a dream, “Bittoo? Is this really you?”

  The ghost of the madman nodded his head grimly in the affirmative; even death had failed to wipe out a certain innocence and trustworthiness from his face. “But, who did this to you?” Payal asked in a normal voice as her sudden fear subsided, “Who...who killed you?”

  In response, Bittoo made the same gesture as he used to make way back in the estate of Warlock, where Payal was held captive more than a year ago. She did not fail to recognize the gesture signifying a mask worn on the face.

  “But why did Warlock murder you?” She asked.

  Bittoo hit his left hand on his neck. “He sacrificed you…just like that baby!” Payal said astonished. “Oh my God! What a wicked man he is!”

  Bittoo closed his right hand in the shape of a fist and pointed his finger at Payal. “What?” she asked confused, “Me? What about me?” He again made the gesture of the Warlock and then again pointed his finger at her. “What about Warlock and myself? What are you trying to tell me Bittoo?” She was unable to comprehend the meaning of his gestures.

  “He’s coming!” The madman declared.

  Payal stood paralyzed in the balcony as a chill went down her spine. She felt that the earth was giving way underneath her feet and that she was falling in an abyss. Bittoo’s words hit her conscious like a thunderbolt. It was as if the lightning has struck her and shattered her existence into millions of uncountable pieces. ‘He’s coming; Warlock is coming for you!’

  Her knees gave way under her as she fell on the chair; she looked blankly and foolishly at Bittoo’s ghostly figure, which vanished before her eyes, taking with it the green light that had lit the corner of the balcony where he stood. The sudden noise of a horn brought Payal back to her senses; the light from the powerful headlights of ‘Ford Endeavour’was falling on the driveway of the bungalow. She saw Abhay come out of the car, open the gate and drive in. Her fear and paralysis were replaced by panic as she ran into her bedroom and down the stairs. Abhay had to take her in his arms in the darkened lobby on the ground floor, to stop her from falling in her blind rush.

  “Hey, hey, honey, what’s wrong?” He asked as he held her next to his chest. She shuddered in her husband’s embrace trying to tell him everything in one single breath. “Easy, easy, one thing at a time,” he said trying to calm her down with his patting on her shoulder. “First take a deep breath and then tell me slowly what has happened?”

  “He’s...he’s coming,” she said with panting breath.

  “Who? Who’s coming?”

  “Warlock!”

  “You mean Rudolf?” Abhay asked narrowing his eyes as they reached the bottom of the stairway, on top of a shelf near which was placed a candle stand with two burning candles in it. “Why would he be coming here?”

  “My God! Anshul!” Payal said as she suddenly realized that her baby was alone in the bedroom upstairs.

  Apprehensive about his wife who was petrified and running panickingly, Abhay ran upstairs behind her. They both took a mile long breath of relief when they simultaneously saw that their child was sleeping peacefully in its cradle.

  “My God! You scared the hell out of me,” Abhay said. “For a moment I thought that something had happened to Anshul. What’s the matter Payal; why are so fearful? I have never before seen you in so much fright,” he said as he took his beautiful wife in his arms and made her sit with him on the bed.

  “Bittoo had come, he had come here,” Payal managed to say amidst her heaving.

  “Who’s Bittoo?”

  “He is the madman whom I had met in Rudolf’s estate when he had held me captive there last winter.”

  “Why did he come here, this Bittoo?” Abhay asked shrinking his forehead.

  “To warn me, he told me that Warlock, that Rudolf is coming after me,” Payal answered, breathing heavily.

  “Why did you even let that madman enter the house in the night when you and Anshul were all alone?” He asked his wife in a complaining voice.

  “I did not invite him in, he came on his own. He’s dead and has become a ghost! Warlock has murdered Bittoo and now he is coming after me, to take revenge.”

  “Calm down, calm down Payal, no one is coming,” Abhay said taking her in his embrace and patting reassuringly on her back. “I promise you that no Warlock will ever be able to reach you or our baby, trust me.”

  Suddenly the tube light in the bedroom lit up as if seconding his words; the power was back and with it was lifted part of the darkness, gloom, and fear. It took Abhay a little while to calm down his wife but he succeeded in it nonetheless. He brought the supper from where he had left it downstairs when she had come rushing in his arms.

  Payal for her part brought the plates, bowls, and water
from the kitchen and they both sat down in the living room on adjoining chairs beside the dining table. Abhay had switched on the television in the room on which a popular soap opera of a satellite channel was playing. Seeing the disapproval on the face of his wife, who he knew despised the leading lady of the soap, Leena Malhotra, he changed the channel using the remote, “How’s supper?” He asked.

  “Good,” Payal said in an unenthusiastic voice and was lost in her own thoughts. After the supper was finished she suddenly asked her husband, “You will do everything I ask you, won’t you?”

  “Your wish Madam is your slave’s command, you are my Queen and I am your humble servant,” Abhay replied to make her happy.

  “You seem to be in quite a mood tonight,” she said filling glasses with water for both of them as she came out of her fright and depression.

  “I’m always the same my dearest,” Abhay said taking her hand and putting it on his heart, “only you are so hard-hearted not to give much attention to your loving husband who lives every breath by your name.”

  “I know all about your sweet talk,” Payal said taking away her hand from his, “it always leads in the end to the same thing.”

  “You break my heart!” Abhay said acting despair as his wife rose up with the plates and bowls, which she took to the kitchen.

  He stood next to his wife while she washed her hands in the washbasin outside the kitchen. He hurriedly offered her the towel; she looked at him with narrowed eyes. Raising her eyebrows with a smile she asked, “What?”

  “What?” He asked back with a mischievous smile on the corner of his lips. “Why are you always so suspicious of me?” He added complainingly and then stepping forward, smiling from ear to ear, he took his wife in his embrace. “I was, you know…kinda wondering,” he whispered in her ears.

  “Wondering what?” She asked pushing him away.

  He walked behind her hurriedly and as they entered the bedroom said, “You know, it’s a beautiful night, and I thought…well, you know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t know,” Payal said obstinately.

  “You cannot blame me; who can act like a saint when he has a beautiful and loving wife like you. Now come on honey, be a sport.”

  Payal looked in his eyes boldly and then smiled, “I will go and change, you also get out of these clothes,” she said opening the door of the closet and throwing his pyjamas and shirt at him. She took her nightie and walked towards the adjoining bathroom.

  “Where are you going? Mean you can change right here in front of me; we don’t have anything to hide from each other,” he said.

  “You are getting shameless by the day,” she said closing the door of the bathroom.

  The lone light that lit the curtain-covered window of the bedroom next to the balcony and that could be seen from the road running in front of the bungalow soon disappeared. The happy laughter of the loving couple barely reached that darkened balcony from inside the room with a closed door and windows. After a long while, a dim red light appeared, but it was so negligible that could hardly be seen from the balconyand much less from the road.

  Payal lay without clothes under the blanket with her husband; the dim red light of the zero-watt bulb placed in a socket built in the bedside, scarcely disturbed the sleep of her husband and baby, on whom she had checked on only a little while earlier. She again turned her head to see her husband who was by then fast asleep with all the boyishness of him on his satisfied, contented and happy face.

  Looking at her loving husband, Payal could not help noticing how similar Anshul’s face was to her father. She raised the blanket up to the chin of her sleeping husband and gently kissed him on his cheek. She slipped out of the bed and got into her nightie. She picked up the shirt of her husband from the floor and put in on a sofa chair next to the bed; he was always careless like that; she thought to herself, what would become of him if she were not around to take care of him? Were all men careless and sloppy like that or was just her husband irresponsible like a boy, she wondered.

  Payal slipped back on the double bed; the blanket fell off the body of Abhay who slept wearing only his pyjamas. She quickly put it back on him; he changed his posture in the sleep and his hand fell on Payal’s body, resting right under her bosom. She put her hand on his, trying to find some reassurance in his familiar touch. Her eyes lay wide open in the quiet room, as uncountable thoughts raced through her mind.

  Abhay could take it all lightly, but she for one could not. She knew for sure that she had actually seen Bittoo’s ghost; Abhay did not know Warlock’s evil ways, but she did. Payal had been there, in the very den of the megalomaniac, evil genius; she knew how ruthlessly and cruelly he operated. She, more than anyone else, could properly ascertain as to how real be the danger, any threat from that thoroughly evil man.

  A chill went down her spine, as she shuddered even under the warm blanket and under the hand of her husband that rested on her body. Forgotten words came back to hit her mind like a bolt of lightning, the self-admission of the evilest of all men that, ‘Warlock never forgets and never forgives.’ Once again her mind took her back to the horrifying experience in the evil man’s Circus; the long lost memories came back to haunt her, which she had believed that she had forgotten all about. But if there was one thing about her, that even her hateful enemy had to admit, it was that she was very courageous and bold, that she knew how to hold her nerve in testing times. The woman, who had fought alone all through the last night in Warlock’s captivity, had outbid him and survived despite all his efforts, that same woman came back inside Payal to take charge of the situation.

  She looked with a tinge of sadness at her sleeping husband and at the cradle of her baby. So peaceful, so blissful her life was, so complete and contented; why did it all have to end, her entire self protested! However, if the experience in Mehrauli estate, and in particular the final night had taught her anything then it was to think unemotionally and logically, not just to outbid the cunning and ruthless evil man but to survive his vicious onslaught and show him what she is.

  She knew that there was no question of compromise with Rudolf, who played only to win, who attacked with the unflinching intention of destroying his enemies or prey. The only two great hurdles in her path were that she did not know when he would attack or how? If she knew that she could take countermeasures to save herself and her family, but for now all she knew was that he was coming.

  Once again the hunt and contest had started between Rudolf with an evil mind on one side and Payal with an imaginative, ingenious and intuitive mind on the other side. She was as hell-bent to beat him this time around as well; but unlike the previous time, there were no rules of the game; she had, in fact, no idea of the game the evil man had planned for her. Bittoo’s ghost was the ominous sign of the storm that was about to come; which threatened to turn her contended, peaceful happy and blissful life upside down, before destroying it completely.

  It was on the succeeding evening that Abhay while driving his car received a call on his mobile phone. He responded to the call, “Hello!”

  “Mister Batra; this is me, Aparna,” said his office-colleague from the other side. “Sir; I seem to have forgotten my handbag in your car.”

  Turning around his head, Abhay saw a leather handbag lay on the back seat of his ‘Mahindra Scorpio jeep. “Yes Ms. Aparna, so it seems,” he said.

  “Listen; where are you now, sir?” she asked in an anxious voice.

  “I am near Siddharta Hotel; listen, I can return your bag tomorrow when I come to the office,” he suggested with a fleeting glance at the electronic watch built in the dashboard that showed quarter to ten. Because of urgent work at the office, Abhay and few other staff members had to work way past the scheduled time and he had volunteered to drop three of his female colleagues at their homes. It was ten minutes after he had left outside the building in New Rajinder Nagar, where Mrs. Aparna lived. He was dead tired and in no mood to go back and had hence he tried to talk her into waitin
g until the coming day for her handbag.

  “I know that it is entirely my fault Mr. Batra, to have been so careless and I realize that you also must be very tired; but I desperately need my bag, which has the keys of the front door of my flat. My husband is out of the station and my children are sitting in the flat of our neighbours. I should have left the keys with them; but I thought that I would come home before the children, who had gone to their granny’s place from their school,” she kept on talking endlessly.

  “Never mind Mrs. Sharma,” Abhay said letting go of a sigh, “I am coming back and will be at your place in ten-fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you so much Mr. Batra; you are very kind. I tell everyone in the office that no one is a moredecent person than our Batra sir. He looks after the staff and especially the ladies as his extended family and –”

  “I appreciate it,” he said gently interrupting her, “but I can’t really talk for long while I’m driving, see you soon,” he said and disconnected. He turned around his car from the roundabout near Siddharta Hotel and drove back to the multi-storied bungalow in which independent flats had been constructed.

  After he reached there and had locked his car, he climbed the semi-darkened stairs that led to the flats from the driveway. The barking of a dog caught his attention; perhaps it was the ferociousness or the hint of madness in it that made him frightful and he quickened his pace. His worst fears came true when he saw a crazed street dog running up the stairs, barking continuously. The bell in his throat jumped and he ran helter-skelter, searching for a shelter, to save him from the mad canine. His enemy appeared to have somehow sensed his thoughts as it ran up with an uncanny vengeance.