The Quantum Gift

Soon after Hobo ran for his life, another car came to a stop near Layla. The tires screeched slightly against the asphalt, the vehicle halting just a few feet from her. Doors swung open, and Asma, Meher, Rama, and a few comrades jumped out, eyes scanning the scene with urgency.

Asma spotted Layla and ran toward her without hesitation the moment her feet hit the ground.

"Layla! Are you alright?" she cried out, her voice trembling. As she got closer, she froze, eyes wide. "Blood… blood! What happened to you?" she asked, her voice cracking, eyes brimming with tears.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," Layla said calmly, lifting her hands in a gentle gesture. "It's not my blood."

Asma blinked, confused. Her eyes moved past Layla—and that's when she saw them. Bodies. So many of them. Scattered across the empty ground like discarded dolls. Her heart sank as the full weight of the scene hit her.

Meanwhile, Meher and Rama moved cautiously, their steps slowing as they neared the bodies. The comrades spread out, checking the fallen men.

All dead.

And not just dead—brutally, mercilessly taken down. Bones shattered, blood pooling, faces frozen in terror.

"What happened here?" Asma asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She hadn't seen anything—had no idea what had occurred.

Layla avoided the question entirely. "Don't worry about that," she said instead, stepping closer. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Asma shook her head. "I'm alright… thanks to you." Her voice wavered, then she reached forward and pulled Layla into a tight hug.

Off to the side, near the corpses, Rama stood beside Meher. He glanced at Layla, then at the bodies. "Did she… kill them all?" he asked quietly.

Meher didn't answer right away. He stared at the carnage in silence. Then finally said, "What do you think?"

Rama swallowed hard. "She's just a girl… but this—this is brutal. She's ruthless."

Meher didn't comment. He walked toward the girls with a steady, unreadable expression.

"Are you hurt?" he asked Layla directly.

"I'm fine. Nothing happened to me," she replied, then added, "There were people filming earlier. I don't want any of that leaking."

"It's been handled," Meher said. "We already took care of the recordings."

"Good." Layla nodded once.

"Let's get you out of here first," Meher said, then turned to lead the way back to the car.

"Okay."

Meher and Rama accompanied the girls, leaving the comrades behind to handle the aftermath and clean the area.

Inside the car, silence hung for a moment until Meher asked, "What about Hobo?"

Layla blinked, then scoffed. "Who? Oh—him. That coward ran for his life."

Everyone in the car went quiet.

The infamous Hobo—a name that struck fear in countless hearts—was now being casually dismissed by a teenage girl as a coward. It didn't feel real.

Rama glanced at her, eyes narrowing slightly. "You need to be careful. A man like him won't just run and disappear. He'll be back. He'll want revenge."

Layla's eyes stayed fixed ahead. Her voice was cool, steady. "Then he'll save me the trouble of going after him."

Rama had no response to that. The words stuck in his throat. All he could think about were the bodies they'd left behind… and the horror frozen in their eyes when they died.

This girl was no ordinary girl.

She was a force of nature.

---

The car came to a gentle stop not far from Layla's home, the engine humming for a moment before Meher turned it off. Outside, the early evening light cast long shadows across the quiet street. Layla glanced at Asma beside her—still pale, still shaken. Without a word, she reached over and gently held Asma's hand, squeezing it with silent reassurance.

Everything's alright now… you're safe. That was the message Layla wanted to convey—not with words, but with presence.

Asma looked at her, eyes still wide with lingering fear. What she'd seen earlier was something no high school girl should've witnessed—let alone survived. But Layla wasn't like the others. Not anymore. Gone was the sweet, naïve girl everyone mistook for just a pretty face. What remained was a girl forged in chaos, reborn with resolve. A warrior.

"Don't worry about the rest," Meher said from the front seat, turning slightly to face them. "We'll take care of everything."

He paused before adding with emphasis, "Just don't speak about this to anyone."

"Don't worry," Layla replied, her voice calm and certain. "Rest assured."

Rama, still watching her with a mix of concern and fascination, gestured toward the bloodstains on her clothes. "Are you sure you want to go home like that?"

Layla blinked, then looked down at herself as if only now realizing how soaked she was. "Oh! I forgot."

"Here," Meher said, pulling a spare jacket from the seat behind him and handing it to her.

Layla took it with a nod of thanks and wrapped it around herself. It didn't completely hide the stains, but it would do until she got inside. "It'll do. My mom is probably still at the bookstore anyway."

"Alright. Take care," Meher said. "We might come find you anytime from now—for questions."

"No problem. You have my number," Layla answered, already opening the door.

Asma quietly followed her out, still clutching Layla's hand like it was her lifeline.

Meher and Rama stayed in the car, watching as the two girls made their way toward the house. There was something surreal about seeing them like this—especially Layla. So calm. So collected. Like she hadn't just stepped out of a blood-soaked battlefield.

Once inside, the girls went straight to the bathroom. They didn't speak much. The silence wasn't awkward—it was shared, a space to breathe.

They cleaned themselves off in turns, scrubbing away the blood, the sweat, the dust. By the time they emerged, fresh and dressed in comfortable homewear, some of the tension had finally lifted from Asma's shoulders.

They settled into the living room, the soft cushions and warm lighting offering a sense of normalcy. But the silence between them lingered, not because there was nothing to say—but because everything had changed.

---

"We need to do a background check on that girl," Rama said quietly, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the two girls had just disappeared down the street.

Meher didn't respond right away. He leaned back in his seat, lost in thought. But the slight nod he gave a moment later confirmed that he agreed. There was no ignoring what they had just witnessed.

As agents operating under military intelligence, they had dealt with all kinds of people—trained killers, international fugitives, even rogue soldiers. But never a high school girl who could single-handedly wipe out a group of armed criminals with nothing but instinct, speed, and sheer ferocity.

"She may have only been defending herself," Rama continued, his voice low, "but the brutality… the precision… that wasn't normal."

Meher exhaled slowly, still not speaking.

"It's ironic," Rama added, shaking his head. "Two best friends—one a scared, innocent little lamb… the other a merciless wolf in sheep's clothing."

Meher finally stirred and reached into the front compartment, pulling out a secured tablet. "Contact Intelligence Division," he said. "Flag the name Hobo for high surveillance. I want all airports, harbors, and border exits under alert. He's not leaving the country."

Rama took out his encrypted device and began typing instructions. "We'll mark him with Class Delta Priority. Facial recognition will track him through the city. He won't take a single step out without being spotted."

"Also check the traffic and satellite footage from two hours ago," Meher added. "I want to know exactly where he went after fleeing the scene."

"Done," Rama confirmed. "I'll also tap into his known associates—family, former crew, safehouses. If he shows his face anywhere, our people will know."

Meher leaned forward again, his tone more serious now. "We let him slip through our fingers once. We won't do it again."

Rama nodded. "And what about the girl?"

Meher's fingers paused above the tablet. "We'll run a quiet check. School records, guardians, medical history… anything that helps us understand what she is."

"Not who she is?" Rama asked.

"No," Meher said, meeting his eyes. "What."

There was a long silence between them, the weight of what they had just witnessed still settling in the car like a fog. Then Meher tapped the screen again, sending another line of encrypted commands.

---