Ayan stood under the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, the sparse light casting long, eerie shadows on the deserted road. He scanned the street, searching for a taxi, but his gaze kept drifting to the opposite lane where five cops loitered, their eyes locked on him with unwavering intensity. Suspicion gnawed at his gut, making him shift uneasily.

The sudden ring broke the silence of his phone. He glanced at the screen, then said hesitantly, "Hello?"

"The police are tailing you. If you want to get out, follow my instructions." Haider's voice crackled through the receiver.

Ayan's eyes widened, and he instinctively turned away from the cops, lowering his voice. "How do they know?"

"Not sure. Right now, escaping is more important. There's an alley behind you—go RIGHT."

Ayan hesitated, his mind racing with doubt. "I don't trust you."

Despite his words, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted the narrow, dark alley. The urgency in Haider's voice and the advancing cops propelled him into action. He slipped into the alley, moving quickly but cautiously. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind him as the cops gave chase.

"Run, quickly. Enter the second building on your right."

Ayan's heart pounded as he picked up his pace, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. He counted the buildings, reaching the second one—a decrepit structure with a barely visible entrance. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open and slipped inside, the door creaking shut behind him.

Ayan slipped through the creaky door, his breath catching in the dimly lit corridor. Shadows clung to the walls, and the air was thick with dust and neglect. The phone pressed against his ear crackled with Haider's urgent voice.

"To your right, there's a desk. Hide behind it."

Ayan's eyes darted frantically, finally locking onto the desk partially hidden in the corner. He took a hesitant step forward, his senses on high alert. The room felt oppressive as if the walls themselves were closing in.

"I'm not here," Haider's voice reassured him, a disembodied guide in the darkness.

"How do you know all this?" Ayan whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

"You'll find out soon enough," Haider replied cryptically, his tone offering no comfort.

Ayan crouched behind the desk, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. Sweat trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes. The sound of footsteps echoed through the building, growing louder, and more menacing. Flashlights flickered through the gloom as the cops entered, their beams cutting through the darkness like knives.

"Keep low. When I say, run towards the stairs," Haider's voice came through again, steady and commanding.

The room felt like a trap, every creak of the floorboards a potential betrayal. The cops split up, their movements precise and methodical. Ayan's breath came in shallow gasps, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Now," Haider's voice pierced the tension.

Ayan bolted from his hiding spot, his footsteps a rapid staccato on the floor. He collided with a lamp, sending it crashing to the ground with a deafening clang. Panic surged through him as he darted towards the stairs.

"FUCK. Get to the fourth floor; there's an open window. Run!" Haider's voice urged him on.

Ayan's legs burned as he raced up the stairs, each step a desperate attempt to outrun the danger behind him. The sound of gunshots exploded in the stairwell, bullets whizzing past him, narrowly missing their mark. The sharp scent of gunpowder filled the air.

"They're shooting at me! FUCK!" Ayan shouted into the phone, his voice a mix of fear and adrenaline.

Ayan's heart raced as he reached the fourth floor, the open window a desperate escape route. He could hear the cops closing in, their heavy footsteps reverberating through the stairwell. The phone still pressed to his ear, Haider's voice came through with a chilling calmness.

"They want you, badly."

"What do I do now? I'll surrender," Ayan's voice trembled.

"You don't know which corner of the country's jails you'll end up in, or if you'll even make it out alive," Haider said, a pause for effect, "Open the window."

Ayan glanced behind him. The cops were getting closer. With shaking hands, he threw open the window, the night air rushing in, cool and unforgiving.

"Can you see the truck below?" Haider continued, "It's filled with cotton. You need to jump and land on the cotton carriage. By the time they get to you, you'll be long gone."

"Jump from the fourth floor? Are you insane?" Ayan's voice was a mix of disbelief and terror.

"This is the only open window."

"No way, this is crazy."

"You have two choices: jump and escape, or go with them and end up in jail. The choice is yours."

With that, Haider cut the call. The line went dead, leaving Ayan standing at the precipice. He looked down at the truck below, its contents barely visible in the dim light. The distance seemed insurmountable, the height dizzying.

"This is madness. I didn't do anything," Ayan muttered to himself, the wind whipping around him.

The police officers were closing in, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Ayan glanced back at them, then down at the truck. The gap between him and freedom seemed to widen with every passing second.

"I'm going to die. This is insane," Ayan whispered, feeling the cold sweat trickle down his back.