Page 98 of Into the Gray Zone

The leader said, “You’ll draw stares, but just smile and talk to us, asking questions about things as if you give a crap about our lives.”

Sledge said, “I don’t even know your names. How am I supposed to act like we’re together?”

The leader seemed to think a moment, then said, “You can call me Kamal. This is Manjit. What is your name?”

“You don’t even know who I am? Why did you take me?”

Sledge saw Kamal’s eyes harden, and he said, “I’m called Sledge in America. You know, the singer?”

Kamal said, “Never heard of you. Just because I gave you a name doesn’t mean we’re friends.” He raised his shirt, showing the butt of a pistol, and said, “Get across the street, but remember, if you do anything to attempt to escape or draw attention to yourself, I’ll sell you to someone else, and they won’t be near as kind as me.”

Having thought his name would mean something—that he would get at least a smidgen of the hero worship of his past—Sledge felt the fear return. Manjit pushed him and said, “Go, before the traffic comes back.”

Sledge speed-walked across the street, reaching the covered stairs leading across the tracks. He glanced behind him and Kamal pointed up. He began climbing, reaching the top and seeing the walkway full of people traveling to various train platforms. He thought about simply running, maybe in a zigzag pattern. Best case, they’d be too afraid to shoot. Worst case, if the lunatics behind him began shooting, someone would stop them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, then a barrel in his back, Manjit whispering in his ear. “I see what you’re thinking. Don’t. There’s no need to die on this walkway.”

Kamal moved to his front and said, “Follow me.”

They passed through the crowds on the walkway, reaching the far side with only the odd person gawking, and went down the stairs. Kamal crossed the next street, and in seconds, they’d left the swirling,chaotic atmosphere of urban Mumbai and entered what Sledge could only describe as hell on earth.

Kamal led them down a small alley, the pavement slick with some type of sludge, detritus and refuse everywhere, electrical wires running chaotically above his head to each building. Every few feet a black hole in the corrugated steel or cinderblock wall would appear, and Sledge could see shirtless men working various machines for metal, pottery, or textiles.

They passed a barber shop stuffed into a cutout CONEX container, men sitting around on plastic chairs with a single barber running an electric clipper through a man’s hair, then reached a corner with four men sitting around a cauldron of stew, one slowly stirring it.

Kamal, acting like a tourist guide, said something in Hindi to the men. They laughed and nodded their heads. Kamal turned to Sledge and said, “Would you like a taste of what the workers here eat?”

Sledge shook his head no and Kamal said something else in Hindi. The men around the cauldron all laughed again. Kamal continued, leading Sledge away and saying in English, “You should have tried it. That’s what you’re going to be eating in here.”

Sledge said nothing, his mind trying to come to grips with the utter despair of the place. Kamal walked with an unerring confidence, making one turn after another, and the deeper they went, the bleaker the area became. They passed another opening and Sledge glanced in, seeing two men bathing from a five-gallon bucket, both standing, one with soap on his body while the other poured water over his head from a coffee can. They were wearing shorts for modesty, but that was it, and paid no heed to anyone walking past.

Sledge’s mouth dropped open and Manjit pushed him forward, saying, “Give them some privacy. They only get water here about two hours a day, so they have to save up for a bath.”

Eventually, Sledge’s brain became numb to the sights, his senses overwhelmed like a soldier seeing death on a battlefield up close instead of antiseptically reading about it in a book. He put one foot in front of the other, his white Gucci tennis shoes now spackled with black goop, keeping his eyes on Kamal’s back instead of looking left or right. They passed an enormous stack of plastic bumpers from wrecked automobiles and Kamal stopped outside another black hole, saying, “We’re here.”

Sledge looked inside the opening and saw a stack of plastic luggage, all carry-on size. The room stretched about fifty feet back to a concrete wall with men working various machines, taking the ruptured bumpers through stages, eventually turning the discarded material into the finished suitcases by the door.

One man came out and Kamal spoke to him in Hindi. The man nodded and disappeared back into the darkness. Kamal said, “Follow me,” and entered through the hole in the wall.

Sledge did so, walking hesitantly through the opening, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. He saw the floor was dirt and the men were barefoot, each of them working shirtless in the heat on a machine that looked decidedly unsafe, the air smelling of burned plastic. They stared at him with dead eyes and he hurried to catch up to Kamal.

Kamal took a left down a small hallway formed by two metal CONEX containers, stopping at a wooden ladder. He climbed up it and crouched down, disappearing from sight.

Manjit poked Sledge in the back and said, “Up.”

Sledge went hand over hand up the ladder until he reached the top, the air still and hot, smelling of soiled men. He saw Kamal turning on a small electric lantern in the corner. The light spilled out, exposing four soiled mattresses, if they could be called that, the stuffing only about an inch thick. Above them affixed to the wall was a simple bit oflumber creating a makeshift shelf. On the shelf were pictures of various Indian families, and Sledge realized he was looking at the living space of the men below.

Kamal said, “This is home for you. It was supposed to be for Riva Thakkar, but you’ll have to do.”

Chapter57

Lying in the back of the van, Nadia felt every bump in the road and tried to memorize every turn and roundabout they used. She’d heard the discussion about the train station, knew where it was in Mumbai, and was trying to determine where they were going, convinced the blindfold would remain on for the duration of her captivity.

She needn’t have put in the effort. The van slowed and the man known as Jaiden said, “When we stop, you two will remain silent. I’m going to remove your bindings and your blindfolds. If you try to escape or tell anyone what is happening, I’ll kill not only you, but whoever is near that can affect my escape. Remember that.”

Nadia thought,What does that mean? Where are we?

She felt the flex-cuffs on her ankles cut free, followed by the ones on her wrists, then the blindfold was removed. She blinked her eyes, afraid to sit up. She craned her head, saw Annaka next to her, and reached out her arm, taking Annaka’s hand into her own and squeezing.

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