He smiled. May every emergency end in a laugh like this.
“Helicopter! Helicopter!!”
Samar got up and rushed out of the temple, in time to hear the rotors through the rain.
“Samar!” Adil was back. “You are patched up with Captain Husain.”
“Captain Husain?” Samar spoke. “Do you copy?”
“Copy, sir.” His voice tore through the noise. Samar ran back inside, the temple quiet because people had rushed out. He checked his own GPS location.
“Confirm my position,” he said. “Three-zero point five-six-eight-five North. Seven-seven point three-zero-six-zero East. Hilltop temple site. Elevation approximately twenty-six hundred meters. Rocky terrain. Steep northeast slopes. Sparse vegetation. Structure visible from the western approach.”
The wind and rain were roaring hard.
“Location confirmed.”
“Rescue priority is a stranded family at a farm approximately twelve hundred meters northeast of this position. Access compromised by flooding. Atharva attempted approach on a neon raft. Status unknown. Over.”
The line hissed again before Captain Husain replied. “Estimating farm location, sir… stand by… location locked. Three-zero point five-seven-three-zero North. Seven-seven point three-one-two-zero East. That’s your twelve hundred meters northeast. We’re moving.”
Samar closed his eyes for half a second, steadying himself against the wall as thunder rolled overhead.
“Copy that,” he said. “Proceed with caution. Terrain unstable. I’ll maintain position and signal. Over.”
“Why did Atharva go alone?” Adil yelled. “Where are you?”
“Medical situation. Captain Husain, this is Samar. Update on visual. Do you have contact?"
“Approaching target structure… standby… beacon acquired.”
A crackle.
“Target locked. Preparing descent for extraction.”
“Confirm headcount.”
“Seven civilians plus one additional male. Repeat, eight total.”
“Atharva is there.” Adil relayed, laughing. “Of course the fucker is there!”
Of course the fuckeris there, Samar exhaled with a laugh, tension draining from his shoulders.
————————————————————
It took a long night to check the seven people rescued. The oldest of them, Dharmi fufa, was already half-dazed after the pump and epinephrine shot Atharva had administered. Samar still sat with him until his breathing had stabilised enough to let him eat some soft, hot rice. The village had mostly finished eating and everybody was sitting around, laying down, some already asleep as rain continued to batter outside.
Samar walked out to the back of the temple, and found Atharva sitting there on the floor, bandaging a little girl’s arm, one of the seven rescued. She showed him her other arm and he cut a small piece from the roll and wrapped it around it. Then held both her biceps up and patted them, saying something in her ear. She fell back giggling, rolling, and he got her to sitting and hugged her to his chest, squeezing her to elicit more giggles.
“Yeh lijiye…[194]” A woman came and offered Atharva a bottle of water. He accepted it, relenting the little girl who jumped to her feet. “Chalo, Krishnaa, uncle ko aaram karne do, beta.[195]”
“Aalam kalo, beta.[196]” The little girl patted Atharva’s head and ran away before he could grab her. He laughed, their eyes meeting over the running girl’s head. Samar walked out of the temple and towards him, nodding at the girl’s mother.
“All good?” Atharva asked as he sat down beside him. Their feet dangled out of the temple’s verandah as rain continued to pelt. Nothing was visible, everything pitch dark except the isolated crackle of lightning.
“Hmm.” He crossed his legs, hissing as his joints began to groan now that the adrenaline was drained. “Cute girl.” He looked past his shoulder at the little girl still running around in the main area. Her mother was unable to catch hold of her.
“Hayat would have been like her.”
