Mayukh took the bottle filled with fuel that he had tied to his belt, and lit the bit of cloth extending out it's top with his lighter. He fumbled once or twice, and realized that in the cold, the fuse was not catching fire as he had hoped. The First Biter was now less than six feet away when Mayukh put the lighter to the neck of the plastic bottle itself. He felt a flash of searing heat for a second before he flung the bottle at the Biter.
The flaming bottle hit the Biter in the chest and he screamed as he fell. One of those behind him tripped over him and was also engulfed in the flames. By the light of the fire, Mayukh now saw what he was up against. There were about two dozen Biters rushing towards him. The good news was that meant David had either distracted or killed a huge number of the original pursuing force. The bad news was that at such close quarters, even a dozen Biters were a dozen too many.
Mayukh unslung a shotgun and pumped it, chambering a round and firing, seeing one Biter, a ghoul who looked like he had been a chef, still dressed in his white uniform, get cut in two. He swiveled towards the next one, and realized this Biter was no more than a boy, perhaps no more than seven or eight years old, and wearing a Mickey Mouse t-shirt. Or rather, he had been a boy, Mayukh corrected himself as he pulled the trigger. He fired three more times, not aiming at anyone in particular, but sure that at such close range, he couldn't miss. Then the first of the Biters reached him-one who had been an elderly woman, with wisps of grey hair still sticking out from under her turban, her face a yellowy, bloody mess that was barely visible in the light that the pyres of the two burning Biters still threw up.
Mayukh reversed his shotgun and slammed the butt into her head, and as she rocked back, he turned it around and fired, all but obliterating her. He fired twice more before his shotgun ran out of shells. A strong hand gripped his right arm and another ripped the shotgun from his hands. He kicked out, and felt his foot connect with something, but then another hand reached out and grabbed his foot in a vice like grip.
Mayukh went down on one knee, and as a Biter jumped on his chest. Mayukh was thrown back, the wind totally knocked out of him. Flat on his back, he could only see the outline of the Biter's head, but he could smell it's fetid odour, a foul, reeking stench that made him gag almost involuntarily. The Biter was now closing in on Mayukh, it's open mouth seeking his neck. Mayukh fished in his pocket with his free left hand and took out the lighter, bringing it up between him and the Biter before flicking it on. He caught a glimpse of a yellowed, deformed face with a beard before the Biter shrieked and fell off him, fire enveloping his beard.
Mayukh tried to get back to his feet but a blow to his head sent him down again. He could feel blood flowing down the side of his head, and wondered if a Biter had hit him with a rock. He tried to reach for the second shotgun slung at his left shoulder but a kick racked his body with pain, as he heard his ribs crack.
He felt arms grab his hands, and then his feet, till he could no longer move. The Biters were now screaming again, excited at the kill, and Mayukh thought that perhaps it was just as good that he had pissed them off as much as he had. He knew that they tore apart those who fought them, but that was a fate far better than being bitten and transformed into one of them.
He saw a Biter move in for the kill, it's sharp teeth bared, ready to tear Mayukh's throat out before the others cut him to ribbons. Mayukh rocked his head forward, catching the Biter completely by surprise by smashing his head into it's face. Mayukh felt a rush of pain, and then a free flow of blood down his nose. He was sure he had broken his nose, but he was not done fighting yet. It wasn't about saving his own life-he had already reconciled to being a dead man. It was the simple fact that every minute he delayed the Biters was an extra minute that Swati and Abhi had to get to safety.
As the Biter above him growled in fury and brought his mouth down to bite again, Mayukh smashed his head into the Biter once again. Mayukh didn't know if the Biters felt pain or not, but the Biter was at least knocked off balance enough to be thrown off Mayukh. As for Mayukh, if he had not broken his nose the first time, this time around he was sure he had succeeded.
Infuriated by this unexpected resistance, another Biter picked up a rock and hit Mayukh with it. Mayukh saw the blow coming and held up his right hand in front of his face, taking the full strength of the blow on his elbow. He screamed in agony, sure that some bones had broken where the rock had connected. When his right hand dropped uselessly to his side, the Biter brought up the rock for another blow. In the melee, the grip on his right leg had loosened and Mayukh kicked out at where he judged the Biter's groin to be. He connected with something soft, but the Biter didn't seem to notice.
Armed with the useless bit of trivia that Biters were not fazed by a kick to their balls, Mayukh felt the rock connect with his head. As his head flopped back on the cold road, a deep sigh came from Mayukh's lips. He had done the very best he could have. Now he had no more fight left in him.
Bruised, bloodied and battered, Mayukh looked up at the stars in the sky, hoping that the end would not be too painful, and hoping that he had bought Swati and Abhi enough time.
As he saw the Biter's silhouettes loom over him, he thought he saw shooting stars crisscrossing the sky, and then the sound of firecrackers bursting. Whatever it was, he had neither the curiosity nor the energy to find out; perhaps it was some Biter with a gun.
He felt cold, clammy hands close around his neck, and he closed his eyes. His last thought was that perhaps it was good that he was going to be unconscious when the Biters tore into him.
THIRTEEN
'You look like The Mummy!'
Mayukh would have smiled had it not hurt so much to move his face. He would have loved to hug Abhi and Swati back when they clutched him, but his right hand was in a cast. He would have loved to hold Swati much longer, but his ribs hurt when she rested against him. In short, he could do very little to show them just how deliriously happy he was to see them again, so he did the one thing his body still allowed him to do.
He cried.
Two medics walked in and changed the IV drips that were attached to him, and then a man in an Indian Army uniform walked in. He looked to be at least fifty from the grey in his hair, but his posture was still ramrod straight and Mayukh saw that he seemed supremely fit. He seemed as if he was about to extend a hand to shake Mayukh's, and then a bit sheepishly, took his hand back.
'You, sir, have had quite an adventure.'
To Mayukh that seemed like the understatement of the century.
The man introduced himself as Major General Vij and sat down next to Mayukh.
'How long have I been here?'
He could see Swati smile as the General answered.
'You've been out for almost three days.'
Three days!
Mayukh turned to Swati and Abhi as if seeking answers as to what had happened. Trying to find out how he had been rescued when he was sure he was going to die at the hands of the Biters. Trying, above all, to find out if getting Abhi all the way to Ladakh had actually helped in any way whatsoever.
Swati was still holding onto his left hand as if afraid to let go, and Abhi was now sitting on his lap as he sat propped up on the bed. Swati's eyes looked dead tired and bloodshot, and she seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep.
Before she could say anything, the General interrupted.
'Young man, she has been sitting by your side almost every minute of those three days, so she could do with some rest. You yourself still need some patching up and the doctors have said they may need to put you under general anesthesia again. So just lie down, try and get some soup inside you-you haven't had any nutrition other than what was pumped in through the IV drips. Once she's rested and the doctor's finished with you, we will talk. We all have a lot of catching up to do.'