The Inexistent Highway..(Ep-12)

Sweat dripped from his head. His brain has stopped working; he felt weak and too tired of running; he fainted in the ground itself.

(After few hours)

Garang found himself in the same situation as he was the previous day; he was in the same house, with the doctor sitting beside him. To his surprise, it was still dark outside, and the doctor's watch showed 8 pm. Garang thought that he was dreaming, but his clothes were covered with mud. He pleaded to the doctor to reach the hospital fast, but the doctor added that it was unsafe at night. Garang knew he was for dangerous in the village, so he put an excuse that he wasn't well and he needed a glucose drip, he acted fainting. Realizing the situation turning even worse, the doctor and Mr. Shyamlal took him to the car and drove to the hospital.

The journey throughout was covered with howls of dogs, cries of people, many insignificant figures came in front of the car, but Garang warned them not to stop. They finally reached the hospital at about 3 am. Garang took a sigh of relief. He was allotted a room and was informed that his therapy would start the next day. He lied in the hospital bed thinking about the highway and the village.

'Mr. Garang, please take your medicines before you sleep,' the nurse disturbed him. He got up from the bed, his hands struck the medicine box, and it fell on the floor. As he tried to pick up the medicine, the level went more in-depth, he thought it was a village hangover. He went down over the floor and picked up the medication. Some drugs had fallen under the bed; he moved under, the foundation that was just above him started shaking; there was a shadow right at the place where the medicines were scattered.

It seemed as if someone was sitting above. Suddenly a hand dropped down the bed, and blood started flowing from it. He was taken aback. All this happened so quickly that he had no time to react. His expressions were filled with fear and surprise at the same time. He started shouting and ran outside the room. He didn't even know where he was going to stop. He landed in a place that was next to the surgery ward. He locked the room from inside. He observed that the room he had entered was a dead patient's room. It was too quiet inside; he could hear only the sound of his breath. The dead bodies of patients were covered with a bed assigned to each of them. He peeped inside the room; he came near a patient bed, the nameplate that was attached to the bed read 'Mr. Prakash Mathur'.