It was just meant to be a College Medical Center. The corridors were narrow - well, who am I kidding? One corridor was all it had. It was clinical without many stretchers. Clean enough to not have any diseases. The whole area was designed just for sprains, or panic attacks, maybe even dehydration during finals week. But not twisted metal, no. And certainly not for two unconscious bodies pulled from the wreckage.
Mira Qureshi arrived on one such stretcher that rattled just slightly with every turn it took. Someone was holding her hand. She wasn't sure who. Her fingers twitched against fabric and then slipped away just as quickly and a voice cut in.
"BP's dropping... Slowly but it's dropping!" Zahir exclaimed.
"Any head trauma?" The doctor asked.
"Possible. Pupils reactive."
She heard footsteps while the doctor said to Zahir: "Wait at the reception."
Mira felt like she was floating but slowly sinking like a wet cardboard. She could not make out half of the words they said. She tried to speak but was again cut by the fragments of the words she could hear: "-fracture unlikely-"
"-keep them here until the ambulance-"
"No" A firm male voice said: "Transfer them to us. We'll take care of it."
"Understood." Said the doctor.
Zahir was still at the reception when he noticed them coming out: "Hey, where're they going?"
One of the staff sharply looked at him: "And you are?"
"Zahir Malik, MBBS-"
"That's enough. Stay quiet." He told him as they took the stretchers into the door on the left. Zahir looked at them confusedly as he took one step, then two; and then another. But the door closed on him. He was confused because wherever they had taken them was supposed to be... nothing(?)
He got out of the building and saw where they had turned to. There was no room for a small ward, let alone an operation room.
He had been interning here for the past two months. He knew the layout. It was just like a storage room.
'You should have done something.' He told himself.
'You should have done something.' He went back to his station.
'You should have done something.' He pretended as if his hands weren't shaking.
-
Down at the congregation ground, Binyamin and Aisha were still waiting for the truck when he got a message from the faculty sponsor: 'The truck has been changed. This is the number of the new truck.'
And sure enough, the new truck came in sight moments later.
He didn't argue with the faculty sponsor, nor did he ask for a reason. Such was the dynamic. What he did do, however, was save the original file before editing it and then saving a copy.
And when Aisha asked him about the new truck, he said it was confirmed.
"Unreal." Said Aisha.
"Its not even a big deal." He replied back.
After grabbing a coffee and saying goodbye to Aisha, Bin unlocked his bike and went home. Even though he said that to Aisha, the feeling of unease followed him up the stairs, into his apartment and even when he kicked off his shoes and washed his hands, it felt like the day clung to his skin and even the hand wash could not wipe it off. He did try it 4 times though. It just wouldn't come off.
Later that night, he let himself sprawl on the bed with his phone half-charging beside him, while he also let himself scroll without intent.
The photography executives had sent him some photographs. The faculty sponsor asked for Event Reports, while his juniors asked for a well-earned treat after the success of the biggest event of the year.
He went ahead and ignored all that just to scroll. And then he saw a reel. It was a truck slamming into the side of a black car on JUST's Reader's Avenue. He locked in considering it was quite nearby. Before he could catch a definite glimpse of the number plate though, his Instagram crashed. And he could not find the reel again. Cursing inwardly, he could swear it was LE 5025. But he wasn't sure. And now he had no way to confirm it.
He got up in anger and washed his hands once again.
-
Aisha Safeer went home and did what she always did when she started thinking too much: gaming.
She logged into her game as she wore her headphones. The room was quiet, insulated by thick curtains and silence. Her parents were out on a 'congratulatory dinner' of some politician.
Her character moved easily through the familiar terrain she could always recognize (even in dreams, yes she had dreamt of her games). She dodged, she fired and then reloaded. Her progress bars filled and rewards unlocked.
For a while, it worked. And then she missed one of the opponents and took damage she normally wouldn't. She thought of all the fake smiles around her. Like everyone wanted her to be with them, but not really. And how normal began to somehow feel rehearsed.
She exited the game without saving and went to bed. Didn't sleep though.
-
The sun, just like everything natural didn't discriminate and rose up for everyone in Jhelum. The campus buzzed with an-every-wednesday routine. Binyamin attended classes with utmost diligence. HE TOOK NOTES AND ALL. With three different colored pens, yes. Occasionally, he would ask a question, just so his professor would feel involved. Yes, involved, in the grand scheme of things in which Binyamin Rao was to be the greatest Data Scientist ever.
But this asking of questions had a downside to things. You see, to be 'involved', the professor would then ask Bin some questions just for the sake of it, and then as if bearing the harsh responsibility; Bin, of course had to answer and appear diligent. Such was the dynamic.
Right after classes, he ate lunch with his group of three and laughed at something Taqi had said (which he forgot half a minute later).
And then, Noor leaned close, just a wee bit too close. The-type-that-gives-you-a-warning-close: "You okay?"
"Yea." He instinctively, but kindly, put some distance: "Just tired... I guess."
"You know, I need some help with visualization." She continued: "Wanna go over to the library?"
He thought it over and was about to say yes when he saw it.
The same build as in the reel, same reinforced rear panels and the same plate. LE 5025. The engine hummed low, like the driver was in no hurry.
Bin watched it slowly pull away. Just then, he stood up.
"I'll be back." He went to the parking while Noor looked at him all puzzled.
He unlocked his bike and mounted it. He waited until the truck was just at the right distance for it to not catch on. And then, he followed; trying his best to stay as inconspicuous and natural as possible. In minutes, they had passed through two departments and even a cafe and a hostel building. Right then, it went into the parking... behind the medical center?
Bin's forehead let a hint of a frown appear as he approached and saw that the truck was not in the parking now. It had disappeared from plain sight. But how was this possible? There was clearly no way around the building.
He stood there for a moment before choosing to go back and when he reached his department, Noor had already gone.