Going against the old age stereotype, he finished closing the passageway. It took him about 5 hours to put the soil into that passageway finally covering it. He was ineffably wearied in body and mind. The events succeeded one another a bit too fast for an old man to comprehend.
However, now he had enough time to do it. He was in the heart of a forest of bamboo trees and a countable number of fruit trees. His only food was those fruits and some dry food that he had packed prior to the escape. The man who had saved him was of course a great man but who was he? And didn't Mr. Quirk land that person in danger? He could be arrested for helping an assumed criminal. He hoped that the man managed to escape the same way he had appeared as the saviour. He took out one biscuit from the bag and started eating. He looked around in hope of some fruits. It was already drizzling, now it started raining heavily. He suddenly realized that he had forgotten to pack an umbrella. His only protection was a polythene packet which he brought for keeping things if he got any.
He had to go tomorrow or perhaps today in search of information. He chalked a plan. First of all, he had to cloak himself and that also in a decent manner. He brought with him some shirts and jeans of when he was younger. He put them on him and looked at the tiny hand mirror. Huh, he wasn't looking bad. Putting on a mustache, beard and a sun-glass would do. He smiled after many days.
Mr. Quirk was walking through the deserted city streets and gazing at the signboards, shops and houses all bearing his posters and the word 'WANTED' written in red, bold letters. It was better to go through the news once before setting onto his task. He neared a signpost on which today's newspapers were attached. It read:
ESCAPE OF THE VENOMOUS OLD MANYesterday was supposed to be the day of Mr. Quirk's arrest but it marked his villainous escape from his house. He had chalked a plan which would have proved futile if the man(supposed to be an enemy spy) wouldn't have saved him. He appeared from nowhere and saved the criminal. The Government's role in the security was deplorable. How could the Police Officers eat the food when poisoning food is as easy as lying. The Government should have kept more human guards than the robots. The robots, not surprisingly, were hacked. We on behalf of the citizens of Lnito urge the Government to find bim as soon as possible. His escape proves to be the biggest evidence of his sin.
He sighed. He had thought of something worse. His helper wasn't caught. Nothing could be more pleasing than that.
“Mr. Quirk”
He almost jumped, “Who– who?”
“I am the one who helped you to escape.” the man standing beside him answered.
Mr. Quirk looked at the green eyes, yelled “No!” but too late.
***
Mr. Quirk was screeching, shouting, howling, yelling, perhaps crying– he himself didn't know what he was doing. The only thing he knew was that he was in the darkest room he had ever seen in his life. His nyctophobia was hunting him more than the feeling of someone standing beside him.
“So, Mr. Quirk. Ready for dying?” The man said in a monotonous voice.
Mr. Quirk's head was still throbbing. He had travelled almost 10 hours in a helicopter. He couldn't make an account of what was happening. “No.” the word mechanically came out of his mouth.
“Yes, you have to die. We can't take any risk. We can not keep you alive. You will die and the time is now. Shoot him!” the monotonous voice said again as if the man had no remorse killing him.
His brain was telling him to speak– to ask why they wanted to kill him? If he was killed, they would not know what he had invented. No, they couldn't kill him, no, this couldn't happen.
“Shoot him” the man repeated.
Mr. Quirk had nothing to do nor was he able to speak. He closed his eyes waiting for his inevitable death. He heard a gunshot, his mouth fell open in horror but none of his body parts was hurting. Perhaps, he was in hell now. Dying was so easy. He had a painless death. He could hear some babel but his ears wanted to remain oblivious to those. He heard another gunshot. How were people killing each other in hell? They were already dead, weren't they? Another gunshot. His eyes were still closed. Another one, another– he opened his eyes trying to perceive what had just happened. No, he was in Earth, in fact in the same room. The only difference was that the lights were on and all were lying dead on the floor except one– the black-brown-eyed man. The man shot an ethereal smile. Mr. Quirk was taken aback from death.
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