Natasha was so lost in contemplation that she didn’t even feel the viciousness of the waves or the chill of the wind as it collaborated with her soaked clothes to bring her body temperature several degrees down. All feelings of physical discomfort had been dispatched on an extended vacation.
If it had been just one Natasha Mehra who had met her Maker in rather grisly circumstances, it would have elicited perhaps nothing more than a shudder down her spine. Two could have still been passed off as some kind of an eerie coincidence. But when the tally of murdered Natasha Mehras turned out to be the not at all inconsiderable total of five, and that too in half as many weeks, then no matter how ridiculous it sounded as a notion, the hypothesis did spring forward that an unholy force was, for some inexplicable reason, dead set on eradicating every last Natasha Mehra from the face of the planet (planet, not country, ’cause despite the Mumbai filter, one of the five cases Google had thrown up was of the girl who’d been slaughtered in a US high school shooting incident).
And when confronted with such a spine-chilling conclusion, little wonder that neither wind nor water could make any dent in our heroine’s concentration as she attempted to wrap her mind around the awfulness of being on a kill list for no apparent reason than having a name that someone seemed to hate even more than she did.
Little did she know that she had but touched the tip of the awfulness iceberg. The enormity of the horror she had but begun to discover would have revealed itself in its full heinousness if she had only stuck around and widened her search parameters to include every known country in the world…
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