2018-12-19

Flash Fiction: The end of it



Blinkered eye scanned the black BMW X 5 series speeding on the deserted road in the outskirt of Mumbai, jettisoning past the railway station and stumbled on the dingy alley, in the middle of dilapidated buildings, a lone tea stall lit by a torch and cows grazing on the muddy field.
The luxury car stumbled and screeched that stirred the fearful residents cooped in the two square, flipped towards the end of the lane, reaching the main road.  A computer-generated voice told the driver, “You are being followed.”

Dim light and red shadow surfaced coruscating on the narrow edge of the road. The car slowed down and the driver fixed at the rear window, observing the slightest ruffled movement on the deserted road while watching ahead at the same time. In the fleeting seconds, a barrage of gunshots fired at missile range grilled the car, descending on it like speck of arrows blustered on the window and steel.

The car twisted in circumference like movement, stumbled and trundled on the pavement blipped to speed, was tailed by the behemoth of cars closing on its heels. Ball of fire unleashed and thwacked the BMW on the roof, back rear, door and window splintering into jagged pieces.
The array of cars firing bullets and canons, banged against the BMW leaping ahead and pacing out before gaining the upper edge. In a strike of second, the driver lost control after wagging the sniper battle for a harrowing hour and spun in a circle of fire crashed on the edge of the bridge, hardened blocks and concrete jagged in the air with thwack like sound.

The car flew past the bridge and cascaded inside the river, exploding like wildfire.  A man was hanging on the bridge and a group of armed men run towards him that gave a shock and expression of disbelief. A configured robot was driving the car and oscillated in the air, speaking the language of humans, “You are fucked.”

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