20-02-2023, 05:24 AM
New update, but no apologies.
Arvind’s phone rings.
He has just been given his phone privileges, the tube in his windpipe having been removed just the day before. It has been a tough few weeks and he is still on a shit ton of medication, but now the worst is past him. He is still short of breath, but his oxygen saturation is acceptable on room air. He does have the oxygen mask for use if he needs it.
They have identified the pathogen as a virus, now widely being called by a complicated name, but more colloquially as the Chinese virus. Many people have died and there are websites now tracking infection and death rates. It has replaced other things that people used to track such as cricket and soccer.
His parents have both passed away while he was on the ventilator in the ICU, thoughts of his own mortality crowding out all others. No one was even allowed to witness the cremations, but someone had sent some pictures on WhatsApp. He has had some time to reflect on his own demise, his life of thirty odd years counting for not very much.
He thinks of his brother, Ashok, now also in the ICU. He gets some progress notes from the nurses, but he believes they are overly optimistic. He feels Ashok may not make it. That would leave Swati all alone, perhaps at his mercy. Hmm, stuff to think about. Perhaps he could have her legitimately. Marry her even, if Ashok were to die that is. Perhaps keep her as a sex slave? Anything was possible. These were, after all, unusual, even unprecedented times. The slap she gave him all those years ago resounds in his mind.
He picks up the phone and sees Alexei’s name on the display.
“Hello?” his voice is a hoarse croak that he hardly recognizes. He is still not used to speaking; the tube had been in his throat for over four weeks.
“Hey man,” the Russian says, sounding a little out of breath, “Bad news I’m afraid.”
“What? You got it too?” Arvind feels a surge of energy in his tired limbs and his heart beats a little faster. If Alexei has the virus, that would not exactly be bad news. In fact, it would be news of the good news and bad news variety, that is bad for him and good for Arvind, and bad news these days almost always meant the virus. Arvind tries to keep the smile out of his voice. He would gain hierarchy and make more money.
Alexei gives a little cough-laugh. “Oh, no, no, no, not the virus. I have to leave the country now, the boss has recalled me to Kyiv.”
“Okay.” Arvind pauses, a little disappointed, wondering what it is that Alexei wants. He is in no shape to do anything other than sit up weakly in bed. The energy he’s felt a moment ago has dissipated.
“I need you to get that bitch asap,” Alexei says.
Arvind does not need to be told which bitch is being talked about, and he feels a little stir in his loins, a sensation he hasn’t had for a while.
For her, he might be able to stir himself. Perhaps not today, but in a few days it might be possible. Also, with Alexei out of the country, he wouldn’t have to deal with Nikolai either. He could save the exorbitant amount of money he was preparing to pay the other Russian. He wondered if either of the men was actually Russian. Just having a Russian sounding name didn’t mean anything. They could be from anywhere in the former Soviet bloc.
“Hmm. Okay. Maybe not right away, but soon. When are you returning?”
“I have a container ready to leave in a week. I think March 21st or 22nd, but these days there are so many delays. I won’t be able to return in time, I think, so it is up to you.”
Arvind pushes himself up in bed to an upright position. He knows there are at least twenty, if not more girls in the container already. It is a big task to keep them all docile and safe until they’re ready to be dispatched. He takes a deep breath and says, “Is that guy, um... what’s his name, available?” The name escapes him.
There is silence while Aleksei presumably thinks. Then he says, “you mean the muscle guy? Sammy?”
“Yeah, Sammy.” Sammy is muscle with very little between his cauliflower ears. “He’ll come in useful.”
“Okay, I’ll send his contact to you. I'll talk to him also. Get better soon. ” Aleksei hangs up.
There is a knock at the door and a nurse comes in with a clipboard. She beams at him. “Looking better today, Sir.”
Ashok grimaces. She is a Malayali nurse, supposedly the most efficient and dependable of nurses, but not very good looking. The good ones go to the Gulf, he knows. But no reason to be churlish. He finds a smile. “Thank you sister.”
Three days later, he leaves against medical advice.
He figures he will recuperate better at home. He doesn’t visit his brother Ashok who is in the ICU. He reflects on the death of his parents, and his sick brother. It is a miracle he's made it. These are tough times, he reckons. Dangerous times, Apocalyptic times. Times when people like himself can thrive.
It is difficult to even walk for more than a few meters, but he leans against the wall as he slowly makes his way to the front door of the hospital. Don't they have wheelchairs in this place? But everyone that works in the hospital is busy, scurrying about, wearing those weird plastic suits. All around him people are wearing masks. The hospital employees as well as the patients and visitors.
He calls for an Uber, but isn’t sure he can navigate all the way to the special area reserved for the shared vehicle. In fact, he is sure he cannot. He cancels the Uber, but still has to pay a fee. A small fee, but still it was something.
He calls Sammy. “Hey man, can you come and help me out here? I’m at this hospital…”
Sammy arrives in ten minutes. He is huge, well over six feet tall and heavily muscled. He wears a large cloth mask and an eye shield. He handles Arvind like he’s an infant and deposits him in the front seat of his SUV.
Arvind leans back against the cushioned interior and breathes heavily. When he has finally caught his breath, he outlines the plan.
Sammy nods. He takes notes on a little notebook in the dashboard. When Arvind is through, Sammy starts the car and eases out into the late afternoon traffic.
Arvind’s phone rings.
He has just been given his phone privileges, the tube in his windpipe having been removed just the day before. It has been a tough few weeks and he is still on a shit ton of medication, but now the worst is past him. He is still short of breath, but his oxygen saturation is acceptable on room air. He does have the oxygen mask for use if he needs it.
They have identified the pathogen as a virus, now widely being called by a complicated name, but more colloquially as the Chinese virus. Many people have died and there are websites now tracking infection and death rates. It has replaced other things that people used to track such as cricket and soccer.
His parents have both passed away while he was on the ventilator in the ICU, thoughts of his own mortality crowding out all others. No one was even allowed to witness the cremations, but someone had sent some pictures on WhatsApp. He has had some time to reflect on his own demise, his life of thirty odd years counting for not very much.
He thinks of his brother, Ashok, now also in the ICU. He gets some progress notes from the nurses, but he believes they are overly optimistic. He feels Ashok may not make it. That would leave Swati all alone, perhaps at his mercy. Hmm, stuff to think about. Perhaps he could have her legitimately. Marry her even, if Ashok were to die that is. Perhaps keep her as a sex slave? Anything was possible. These were, after all, unusual, even unprecedented times. The slap she gave him all those years ago resounds in his mind.
He picks up the phone and sees Alexei’s name on the display.
“Hello?” his voice is a hoarse croak that he hardly recognizes. He is still not used to speaking; the tube had been in his throat for over four weeks.
“Hey man,” the Russian says, sounding a little out of breath, “Bad news I’m afraid.”
“What? You got it too?” Arvind feels a surge of energy in his tired limbs and his heart beats a little faster. If Alexei has the virus, that would not exactly be bad news. In fact, it would be news of the good news and bad news variety, that is bad for him and good for Arvind, and bad news these days almost always meant the virus. Arvind tries to keep the smile out of his voice. He would gain hierarchy and make more money.
Alexei gives a little cough-laugh. “Oh, no, no, no, not the virus. I have to leave the country now, the boss has recalled me to Kyiv.”
“Okay.” Arvind pauses, a little disappointed, wondering what it is that Alexei wants. He is in no shape to do anything other than sit up weakly in bed. The energy he’s felt a moment ago has dissipated.
“I need you to get that bitch asap,” Alexei says.
Arvind does not need to be told which bitch is being talked about, and he feels a little stir in his loins, a sensation he hasn’t had for a while.
For her, he might be able to stir himself. Perhaps not today, but in a few days it might be possible. Also, with Alexei out of the country, he wouldn’t have to deal with Nikolai either. He could save the exorbitant amount of money he was preparing to pay the other Russian. He wondered if either of the men was actually Russian. Just having a Russian sounding name didn’t mean anything. They could be from anywhere in the former Soviet bloc.
“Hmm. Okay. Maybe not right away, but soon. When are you returning?”
“I have a container ready to leave in a week. I think March 21st or 22nd, but these days there are so many delays. I won’t be able to return in time, I think, so it is up to you.”
Arvind pushes himself up in bed to an upright position. He knows there are at least twenty, if not more girls in the container already. It is a big task to keep them all docile and safe until they’re ready to be dispatched. He takes a deep breath and says, “Is that guy, um... what’s his name, available?” The name escapes him.
There is silence while Aleksei presumably thinks. Then he says, “you mean the muscle guy? Sammy?”
“Yeah, Sammy.” Sammy is muscle with very little between his cauliflower ears. “He’ll come in useful.”
“Okay, I’ll send his contact to you. I'll talk to him also. Get better soon. ” Aleksei hangs up.
There is a knock at the door and a nurse comes in with a clipboard. She beams at him. “Looking better today, Sir.”
Ashok grimaces. She is a Malayali nurse, supposedly the most efficient and dependable of nurses, but not very good looking. The good ones go to the Gulf, he knows. But no reason to be churlish. He finds a smile. “Thank you sister.”
Three days later, he leaves against medical advice.
He figures he will recuperate better at home. He doesn’t visit his brother Ashok who is in the ICU. He reflects on the death of his parents, and his sick brother. It is a miracle he's made it. These are tough times, he reckons. Dangerous times, Apocalyptic times. Times when people like himself can thrive.
It is difficult to even walk for more than a few meters, but he leans against the wall as he slowly makes his way to the front door of the hospital. Don't they have wheelchairs in this place? But everyone that works in the hospital is busy, scurrying about, wearing those weird plastic suits. All around him people are wearing masks. The hospital employees as well as the patients and visitors.
He calls for an Uber, but isn’t sure he can navigate all the way to the special area reserved for the shared vehicle. In fact, he is sure he cannot. He cancels the Uber, but still has to pay a fee. A small fee, but still it was something.
He calls Sammy. “Hey man, can you come and help me out here? I’m at this hospital…”
Sammy arrives in ten minutes. He is huge, well over six feet tall and heavily muscled. He wears a large cloth mask and an eye shield. He handles Arvind like he’s an infant and deposits him in the front seat of his SUV.
Arvind leans back against the cushioned interior and breathes heavily. When he has finally caught his breath, he outlines the plan.
Sammy nods. He takes notes on a little notebook in the dashboard. When Arvind is through, Sammy starts the car and eases out into the late afternoon traffic.
Check out my other works:
https://www...'.stories/memberpage.php?uid=2206767&page=submissions
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lmassey
https://www...'.stories/memberpage.php?uid=2206767&page=submissions
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lmassey
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)