Free The Night Run by Bali Rai Page B

the city,’ he explained.
    My heart sank and I felt cold. What did he mean?
    â€˜I saw the postmaster,’ Lala continued. ‘The British have arrested twenty men since the rioting began. The banks have been looted and people killed. Revolutionaries are attacking the police. The city is in turmoil, brother.’
    Mr Khan looked shocked.
    â€˜But Mit Singh is innocent!’ he declared. ‘We were at the market all day, together!’
    Lala Ram shrugged and when he spoke I saw his teeth in the glow of a kerosene lamp, yellow and rotten from the tobacco he chewed regularly.
    â€˜The
Engrezi
don’t care,’ he said. ‘They are moving the prisoners on the night train to Lahore. In the morning the prisoners will be taken to court. If found guilty, brother, they will hang for sure!’
    My stomach somersaulted and a shiver worked its way across my chest. I felt sick.
    â€˜No, no!’ said Mr Khan. ‘This is an outrage. What will the poor woman do without her husband? Her son is just a child. They will be left destitute!’
    Lala Ram shrugged once more.
    â€˜They and many others, brother,’ he said. ‘It is the will of God – what can we do?’
    Something dawned on me. A simple, frightening truth. No one would save my father. He would be taken away before sunrise. He would have no escape.
    â€˜I want to go out now,’ Mr Khan said. ‘But how can I risk my own life to save that of Mit Singh?’
    Lala Ram nodded.
    â€˜There is nothing we can do,’ he said. ‘Fate will play its own game.’
    As the two men walked away, I shook my head. How could this be happening to us? How could I let it happen?
    * * *
    An hour later, the yard was almost silent. I sat up in bed, and heard my mother breathing gently in her sleep. Over by the simple hearth, I saw a knife, matches and some cold tea. I dressed quickly, drank the tea and took the blade and matches. Tip-toeing across the room, I kissed my mother on her cheek. Her long, chestnut hair fell across her face. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. I stared at her for a long time.
    â€˜By morning,’ I eventually whispered, ‘you will still have a husband and a son. I swear to you, Mother.’
    And then, despite the cold and the fear, I climbed a set of wooden ladders, on to Mr Khan’s dwelling. The gates to our yard were padlocked shut. The only way out was across the rooftops. Somewhere nearbya fox whined and rats shrieked. An amber glow lit the sky to the east, the remnants of the fires started by the rioters.
    I took a deep breath and set off to find my father.

Chapter Four

The Patrol
    T he darkness made my journey across the rooftops slow. I took each step with care. One mistake and I would fall. My breathing was heavy and I was sweating. Every little noise scared me. The clouds above me were deep purple and midnight blue, and the smell of burning filled my nostrils.
    I went east, towards the centre of the city. There were only two places my father could be – the police station or the army barracks. If they were sending him away, I guessed the army would have him. They were closest to the railway station. But I decided to check the police cells anyway. It was on my route, and I could have been wrong.
    Eventually, some eight alleys from my own house, I dropped down to the street. It was narrow and paved with cobbles, and stank of human waste. I waited in the shadows, listening for any sign of soldiers or policemen. When I heard nothing, I moved on. I couldn’t see a thing and had to feel my way to the main road, using the walls as a guide. The city is home to thousands of rats, and I heard them scurrying about. One slid over my feet as I stepped across an open sewer.
    At the main road, I turned right. The street was dark, like the alleyways behind me, but my eyes soon adjusted. I saw nothing and moved on, realising that I had no plan. When I reached the police station, I had had