A short novella- Part 4 of 5
Long story short, this is a five part series about a girl rediscovering her love for food and revolution in a dystopian world…
The leaves crunched under her chappals as she rushed through the undergrowth, eyes darting sideways every few minutes. Her heart raced, like it did every time. Any moment now, the Aastha Corp guards could appear—and it would be game over.
The last time it happened, Kalpa never returned. She had only gone to meet a man she liked. That was enough.
Nethra had heard whispers about the camps. Starvation. One pill a week. Back-breaking labor. Most died in the first week of deprivation. The ones who survived were worked to the bone during the day and left alone to rot in solitary cells at night.
A rustle in the leaves snapped her into stillness. She crouched low, eyes scanning like a hawk.
It was just an owl perched on a banyan branch, watching her. They acknowledged each other silently. She moved on.
She reached the hill’s base, covered in moss and shrubs, the entire slope silent like a slumbering beast.
She plunged into the darkness. The bark of a sangwan tree formed the perfect sledge as she slid downward into the tunnel, lighting her way with a small flame.
The tunnel opened into a dim room. It was crowded with humans, people who, just a few years ago, might’ve passed as carefree hippies. The kind who partied through the night but never read the news.
Now, their masks were on, weapons in hand, eyes sharp. They were ready to fight to the death.
“Why are you late?” asked the lanky girl in army overalls. “We were starting to worry.”
“You know how it is,” Nethra said, pulling off her scarf. “I had to drug them. And like last time, I didn’t want any last-minute drama.”
“Still, timing matters, Nethra. It’s our biggest ally-or our worst enemy. The Planning Team is already chasing us.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill. But I’d still give anything to roll my eyes at all this in a regular team meeting.”
They all sighed ,half in agreement, half in disbelief.
“Okay,” someone said. “Enough chatter. Let’s retrace our positions.
Just as they moved into formation, a loud click echoed through the tunnel.
The flame in Nethra’s lighter flickered.
Then went out.
A robotic voice rang out from above, cold yet booming:
Unauthorized congregation detected. Countermeasure activation in progress.
An owl screeched somewhere in the distance, and Nethra knew
They were no longer underground.
They were exposed.
Fingers in symphony 