Chapter 3: Out of the City

By the time those men tackled the boy and realised they had the wrong person, I’d already slipped through the alleys and made my way back to my apartment building.

But I had no intention of going upstairs. The comment section was busy "doxxing" me. Within half a day, my address would be out. This was just a regular rented flat—hiding there would be suicide.

I headed back to the parking lot to drive out of the city. Luckily, the car was new, just registered. A new number plate wouldn’t be in the system yet. Even if someone hacked the traffic database, it would take three to five days to find my plate number. By then, I’d be long gone.

Right now, only my trusted roommate Kunal knew about the car. I trusted him completely. He was active in the billionaire’s comment section, but hadn’t leaked my plate number. Instead, he pretended to be a witness, posted fake leads, and sent people in the wrong direction.

A friend in need is a friend indeed. I swore to myself that if I got the inheritance, I’d give this guy at least a few hundred crore.

Half an hour later, wearing sunglasses and a mask, I left the city without a hitch. Soon, I was cruising along a mountain road with no surveillance. In two hours, I’d reach my hometown. The thrill of escape, the joy of outsmarting everyone, and the thought of all that money made me as giddy as the birds chirping outside.

I rolled down the window, letting the mountain breeze wash over me as I imagined what would come next. Once near my hometown, I’d ditch the car.

You can’t trust the villagers either, so I’d sink the car in a pond nearby. I’d park it near the old peepal tree, the one where village boys play cricket every Sunday. At midnight, I’d sneak home by the back road. Let my mother cover for me, and I’d hide in the cellar. If anyone got suspicious and insisted on searching the house, I could climb over the wall straight into the back hills.

The hills weren’t high, but they were dense, the terrain tricky, with streams that changed course every season. I’d caught birds there as a kid—I knew the place like the back of my hand. Even if they brought dogs, I was confident I could play hide-and-seek with them for days.

By the seventh day, I wouldn’t even need to come out—the billionaire would send someone to pick me up. Maybe a helicopter would land in the hills. Like a Bollywood blockbuster, they’d drop a rope ladder and whisk me away.

I hummed a tune, tapping the steering wheel. They say a car is a man’s best friend. Sinking it in a pond—well, I was a little sentimental. After all, I’d saved for years to buy this cheap but reliable ride. But compared to a helicopter, it was a small price to pay.

The more I thought about it, the more perfect my plan seemed. I couldn’t help grinning. At that moment, I felt like I was driving a Rolls-Royce through Mumbai, basking in everyone’s envy.

Just then—bang—

A car behind me suddenly rammed into mine. A deafening crash—before I could react, the world spun. I was thrown from the car, airborne for a few seconds before slamming into the ground.

The car behind was a heavy truck. Compared to it, my little Japanese hatchback was like paper—it was smashed to bits. The truck driver ran over in a panic.

I struggled to speak. In that moment, I had so much to say, but no words would come. Because the driver didn’t even look at me—he went straight for my pocket, hands shaking.

It felt like every bone in my body was broken. I was a sack of organs, limp on the ground. He found it.

The driver held up the coin, tears streaming down his face. "Thank God, thank God, there’s really money… Chintu, this time Daddy can finally leave you something… I can die in peace…"

My blurry vision drifted upward. A little boy stumbled over, hugging the driver’s leg and sobbing, "I don’t want money, I want Dad."

Chintu’s face was streaked with dust and tears, his school uniform too big for his thin frame. "Why did you get out of the truck?" The driver quickly covered his son’s eyes.

"You hit someone, the police will come."

"No, Daddy’s sick, understand? Daddy won’t go to jail. Daddy will always be with you, Chintu."

What a touching scene—fatherly love and all…

I couldn’t help but cough up blood. My body felt like it was being dragged down by a dark hand from the underworld. The driver, guilt-ridden, looked around, sent the boy back to the truck, then dragged my body to the edge of the cliff, panting.

"Bhai, you… you have to understand, I really need this money. The kid’s already lost his mum. If I don’t leave him something… I just… I just can’t die in peace."

He wanted to kill me, but he still wanted me to understand. I gave a bitter smile, struggling to look up at him.

Just then, my whole body convulsed, and I suddenly grabbed his wrist. He jumped, as if seeing a corpse rise, and tried frantically to shake me off. But I clung on, my eyes falling on his phone—on the unlocked screen was a private message:

"Exclusive info: Rohan’s licence plate, one crore."

"Too much? Eighty lakh, then."

"..."

"Fine, five lakh, final offer, with real-time location. Take it or leave it. If not, I’ll find someone else."

I couldn’t help but laugh, a harsh, broken sound that made my chest ache. Only then did I remember—Kunal had borrowed my car. He had the linked app, so he not only knew my plate number, but could also track my location in real time.

A siren wailed behind us. The driver panicked, shoving me off the cliff with all his might. I rasped, "Careful."

"What?"

Sweating, the driver stared at me, confused. The next second, the roar of an approaching car came from behind him. He finally realised. His face went pale, he let go of me and scrambled away.

A crash, a scream, and the driver’s desperate cries rang out together.

As I slipped away, the distant call of a kulfiwala’s bell mingled with the chaos behind me. Out of strength, I slid down the cliff with the truck. This driver was a fool—just as much a fool as me.

When he took the coin, the roles of cat and mouse reversed. Now, it was his turn to run.

As I tumbled downward, flashes of India’s roadside dramas rushed through my mind: grieving families, police sirens echoing in the valleys, the sound of steel against stone. In this country, people chase a dream till their last breath, sometimes forgetting who they step over along the way.