“Let’s go,” Jennifer said, cinching the bathrobe’s belt.
The two women started through the trees. The denser the canopy, the more difficult the going. For about fifty feet, they moved purely by feel, keeping their hands in front of their faces. The main problem was the noise. They sounded like a couple of elephants moving through the brush.
“Veena, come back! We need to talk,” wafted over the humid night air. Flashlight beams danced in the darkness, crossing the lawn from the bungalow.
With renewed urgency the women pressed on, eventually colliding with an all-too-robust chain-link fence topped with rusty barbed wire.
“Which way?” Jennifer demanded in a breathless whisper.
“No idea,” Veena answered. The flashlight beams were now penetrating the woods.
Making a sudden decision, Jennifer moved to her right, letting her hand trail along the fence. She could hear Veena following her, both women making more noise than they would have preferred. The fence continued on as hale as ever. Just when Jennifer was lamenting that the damaged section of fence must have been in the opposite direction, her hand contact disappeared. Bending down, she could feel that the fence was suddenly horizontal, having fallen outward.
“Here it is,” Jennifer whispered forcibly. She stepped on it and it settled more. Advancing timidly, she came to the barbed wire. Although she couldn’t see, she took a chance and jumped. Luckily, she cleared it, and she told Veena so. A moment later Veena was next to her, and they pushed on. A few minutes later they broke out of the trees onto one of the wide but deserted avenues in Chanakyapuri.
“We can’t stay here,” Veena said urgently. “They’ll be here any minute in one of the cars. They have four cars.”
Just as Veena spoke, a car came around the bend. The women pressed back into the bushes and flattened themselves on the ground. The car slowed, passing at walking speed. The women waited until it had rounded the next corner and disappeared from sight. At that instant they were up and running in the direction from which the car had come. At the next block they crossed the broad avenue and took a smaller street heading away from the bungalow.
“That was one of their vehicles,” Veena said between breaths. “They are out cruising for us.”
A moment later headlights appeared behind them, forcing them to duck behind a wall at the base of a driveway. Again, they flattened themselves against the ground. It was the same car, moving at the same speed.
The cat-and-mouse game continued until Jennifer and Veena came across an extensive squatter settlement along a relatively busy road. It was constructed of cardboard, scraps of corrugated metal, tarps, and bolts of fabric. Between the makeshift homes, the earth was beaten bare. It was apparent the commune had been in existence for some time.
“Here!” Veena said, out of breath. They had been running for more than an hour. “We’ll be safe here.” Without hesitation she entered, walking among the simple shelters and into the depths of the colony. It was quiet except for an occasional baby’s cry. But the cry never lasted long. After walking away from the road a hundred or so feet, they met a woman returning from an almost-dry stream bed, which was used as the toilet, judging from the smell. Veena spoke to her in Hindi and the woman pointed. After a few more questions, Veena thanked the woman.
“We’re in luck,” Veena said after the woman moved on. “One of these structures is vacant. The problem is that it is close to the latrine. But we’ll be safe.”
“Let’s move in,” Jennifer said. “I don’t think I can run anymore.”
Five minutes later they found themselves sitting in a lean-to made with a length of cord strung between two trees and hung with a bolt of brightly printed Indian cloth whose ends were held down by heavy stones. Inside, the floor was a jigsaw puzzle of carpet scraps. Veena was leaning up against one tree, Jennifer against the other. Although the smell was rank from the proximity to the polluted streambed, the women felt safe, certainly safer than trying to hail a truck or other vehicle on the open road.
“Sitting down has never felt so good,” Jennifer said. They could barely see each other in the half-light of the moon. “I see you are still carrying the clothes.”
Veena held up the pillowcase as if she were surprised to see it. She tossed it over to Jennifer. Jennifer reached in and pulled out the shirt and pants. She felt the fabric. “Are these jeans?”
“They are,” Veena admitted. “I got them in Santa Monica.”
“So you lived in Santa Monica?” Jennifer commented. She eased herself out of the lean-to. Taking off the bathrobe and the sneakers so that she was completely naked, she pulled on the jeans, then the shirt.
Balling up the bathrobe to use to lean against, Jennifer climbed back into the makeshift shelter. She’d glanced briefly at Veena, who was motionless with her eyes closed. After Jennifer had gotten herself as comfortable as she was going to be, she again glanced at Veena. She did a double take. Veena’s eyes were wide open and sparkling like diamonds.
“I thought for a minute you were asleep,” Jennifer said.
“I need to talk,” Veena said.
“Whatever you want,” Jennifer responded. “I’m seriously indebted to you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for rescuing me. But your rescuing me begs the question: What on earth were you doing with those people?”
“It’s a long story,” Veena said. “I am happy to tell you, but first I need to tell you something about myself and my family so that what I will tell you subsequently might make some sense.”
“You have my full attention.”
“What I’m going to tell you will bring great shame to my family, but it is no longer a secret. My father abused me throughout my childhood and I did nothing to stop it.”
Jennifer recoiled as if Veena had slapped her.
“You may wonder why. The problem is I live in two different worlds, but mostly in the old. In the old India, I am duty-bound to respect my father and obey him no matter what. My life is not for myself. It is for my family, and I’m not to talk about things that would bring shame, like revealing his bad behavior. My father also told me if I did not obey, he would turn to one of my sisters.” Veena then went on to tell the whole story about shady Nurses International and the promise to move to America. She told about stealing the patient data and how it turned out to be too good.
“It was at that point that Cal Morgan decided to change what we nurses were doing,” Veena explained. “And he told me that he could make sure my father behaved himself with me, my sisters, and my mother forever and bring me to America for a new life if I would do something special for him.”
Veena paused and stared at Jennifer. The pause’s duration stretched out as Veena tried to find the courage to continue.
“What did Cal Morgan want you to do for him in return for freeing you from the clutches of your father?” Jennifer asked. She was becoming incensed as the minutes ticked by. She was beginning to fear what she was about to learn.
“He wanted me to kill Maria Hernandez. I killed your grandmother.”
Jennifer recoiled for the second time, although this time it was a lightning bolt of pure anger. For a nanosecond she wanted to leap to her feet and strangle the woman in front of her. She’d been correct about her granny’s death, and here was the perpetrator within arm’s reach. But then somewhat cooler thoughts flooded into her consciousness. Here was a young woman caught in perhaps the worst psychological trap that Jennifer could imagine, especially from having experienced it to a degree herself, but with no chance of freedom.
Jennifer took a series of deep breaths to get herself under even more control. “Why did you save me tonight? Guilt?”