The Mule

Cause

Staring from the pass, the only light that was could be seen apart from the blackness of the new moon sky, was the pale yellow dot. Like a candle refusing to burn out in the most gusty of winds. approaching it in this darkness was not going to be easy. The backpack was heavy with the water it had absorbed from the torential downpour since the past week. The camphor cakes were wet, the stove was missing, and the dates were reduced to a dozen or more. In that pale yellow dot lay hope. Also, a hot meal and remuneration.

Using the crevasses in the rocks and the mountain face, he maneuvered himself to the base of the pass. and slowly made way to the pale yellow dot. The light was emanating from the window of a small stone hut. The shepherds of the Himalaya used these huts to house their flocks when it was raining too hard to cross the pass or if there were bears in the area. The aroma of lamb sizzling over a fire made him more impatient. But this time the familiar howl of his husky was missing. He wondered where Myra must have gone. probably hunting for pikas or marmots.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Bhaijee!" said the burly man loudly, and gave him a tight hug before ushering him into the space inside. It smelt of goat dung and dried wood mixed with the scent of petrichor, and an unknown scent he could not recognise. A small fire was cooking the leg of a lamb to perfection. Salivating, he kept his backpack in a corner, and proceeded to warm himself.
"How is the package?"
"As pure as it gets."
"Did you get it smoothly?"
"There were a few herb-hunters, but your backup ensured they wouldn't trouble me".
"Very good. let me get you a bowl and spoon."
They both ate in silence. after an eternity, and quite a few bones that were naked without the flesh, Pawan Thakur was full.
All throughout, Pawan was very conscious of the fact that after handing the stew to him, the burly man hadn't moved an inch, but had just sat and stared at the fire.
This seemed odd because the burly man was very lively.
"Where is my myra, bhaijee?" he asked. But a response couldn't be elicited. The burly man simply stared at the fire with his back to Pawan.
"Bhaijee?" he moved closer to the burly man, who sat facing the fire. And that is when the hair on Pawan's hands stood on end.

Myra's collar lay in the hands of the burly man. And Pawan began retching uncontrollably.
"She's being digested, Pawan. By you and me both".

It rained blows on Pawan. He couldn't understand why. But he had to resist. Myra was gone, but he still had a chance. Every blow he got he gave back twice. But the burly man was strong. He lifted Pawan off his feet and threw him towards the fire.

And that is when Pawan made his move.

  

A flying block of fire hit the burly man in his face. He screamed in pain. Pawan's hands, used to the bonfires of the cold Himalayan winters kept throwing log after log at the burly man. The hut was slowly getting darker and darker. As the burly man lunged blindly towards him, Pawan was ready . Punch after punch on the burly man's ribs with the final one on the burly man's temple, and he was down. Pawan, now angrier than ever, went straight for the meat cleaving knife which was bloody and shone in the remaining light. Myra's death had completely broken him. He turned towards the burly man.

BOOM!

The entire hut rang with the sound of the blast. The lock on the door had come off clean from its hinges. Pawan watched the muzzle of an ar-15 rifle pointed towards him, a crouched man holding it. There was a slight creaking sound and Pawan fell to the ground. The rubber bullet had found its mark.

Pawan woke up the next morning to find that his backpack was missing. Scared and angry, he began to search the hut. But it was like drowning in hay with no idea about the needle. He searched frantically for hours, till hunger caused him to stop. It was snowing outside. There was a fire that was needed. Water too. But the boy from Kalga was broken. His most trusted companion, his soul was dead. The kilo of Saromga Cream had been taken. What could he do but stare at the ground and cry? and so he did.

  

He was staring at a card-like thing. What could it be? he picked it up. It was blank on one side. Upon flipping it were written the words
"The island Resort, Colva beach".

  

It was getting cold, but the fire began to rise.