His conscience spoke against him. He was going to commit a crime, as defined in law's language and if caught by happenstance, it was enough to earn a life imprisonment. Howbeit, it was the only path to a bit of sunshine.
“Mr. Quirk, you remember I hope that only 10 hours left. I ask again, will you tell us anything? If you do, the Government promises not to bring about any injury to you and if you don't―”
“I will be arrested, right?” Mr. Quirk snapped bearing a jaded expression, his heart crying.
“Oh yes! You are right,” said the very Police Officer maliciously, “and I think it's 2 p.m. Will we get our lunch?”
Mr. Quirk's heart skipped a beat. How came he had forgotten about the timing? Didn't it raise suspicion? “Yes, lunch, giving. Sit down.”
Two hours later, nearly everyone was becoming dizzy as he had planned. The sleeping pills were working. What he had to do was to separate them. That was a laborious task but when there is a will, there ought to be a way. He had secretly roamed about the house fixing some exploding crackers to separate them. His scientific skills were enough to make them.
He bid the house a last goodbye. Might be that it was his last day in the house. After all, it was his dwelling place for 110 years. He moved closer to the wall. In front of him, there stood an apparent wall almirah that opened in a forest. Since the rumour had spread, he started building this with the help of one of his friends and it took almost a month. He put down all the showcases on an adjacent table and he was trying to remove the pseudo wall when―
“Oh, Mr. Quirk. Bad luck, I should say!” a sinister-looking man stood behind him accompanied by around 100 robots, “What a subtle plan you made but your brain is a bit too old to tell you that the Government is cleverer than you. Oh ho ho. So, come with us”. He would be arrested, his plan had failed, the robots were advancing towards him accompanied by another man draped in complete black. Only his black-brown eyes were visible.
“Robots, turn back. March forward and go out. I order you to go out. Mr. Quirk―” the tumult had risen. The black-brown-eyed man said this.
“What―” interfered the police officer.
“I TOLD YOU TO ESCAPE, MR. QUIRK. I WILL MANAGE IT. GO OUT, ESCAPE,” the man yelled, “OPEN IT. OPEN!”
A series of men advanced towards him, “ROBOTS,” he called, “Pull these men from me. Fast!”
The robots marched. Pulled them. He continued, “Mr. Quirk, escape!”
The man pulled open the pseudo wall, pushed Mr. Quirk into it. He felt him sliding through the tunnel and a sangfroid thought came to him– he was perhaps, saved.
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