The roadway to life

Rain hammered the deserted road, turning it into a slick, black mirror under the faint glow of a flickering streetlight. A woman stood at the edge of the pavement, her worn coat soaked through, shielding a young girl who clung to her side. The girl's small hands trembled, her eyes wide as she pressed closer to the woman. They were alone, stranded in the downpour, until a car's headlights sliced through the darkness.The car—a battered sedan—skidded to a stop, its tires splashing filthy water onto the woman's legs. The driver, a man with bloodshot eyes and a crooked grin, leaned out the window. The stench of cheap liquor wafted from him. "Hey, ladies, why're you out here gettin' wet? Hop in, I got plenty of room!" His voice was too loud, his gaze too hungry.The woman's jaw tightened. Something about the man—his leering smile, the way his fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel—set her nerves on edge. "We're fine," she said sharply, stepping back and pulling the girl with her. "Keep driving."The man's grin vanished, replaced by a scowl. "Don't be like that," he slurred, shoving the car door open. His boots hit the pavement with a wet thud, and he staggered toward them, rain dripping from his matted hair. "I'm just tryin' to help."The girl whimpered, burying her face in the woman's coat. The woman's heart raced, but she stood her ground, her voice low and fierce. "Back off. Now."The man—Rocky, as his friends would later call him—laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. He turned to the car and barked, "Yo, Sayan, Rafsan, get out here!" The back doors creaked open, and two more men stumbled out, their clothes rumpled and their faces flushed from drinking. One, a wiry man with a snake tattoo curling up his neck, smirked. "What's the holdup, Rocky? Why you yellin'?"Rocky jabbed a finger at the woman and girl. "These two think they're too good for us." His voice dripped with venom.The tattooed man—Sayan—let out a low whistle, his eyes raking over them. "Well, damn, Rocky, you found some fine ones tonight. We're gonna have fun."The third man, Rafsan, shorter and jittery, licked his lips nervously. "Yeah, real fun," he muttered, though his voice wavered.The girl's grip tightened, her small body shaking. The woman's fury boiled over. "You disgusting creeps can go to hell," she spat, her voice cutting through the rain.Sayan chuckled darkly. "Oh, sweetheart, if we're headin' to hell, you're comin' with us."Before the woman could respond, a new sound cut through the storm—the low rumble of an engine. Headlights swept across the scene, illuminating the three men in stark relief. A battered truck rolled to a stop nearby, its tires crunching on the wet gravel. The woman's breath caught, her fear spiking. Another man. Another threat.The truck's door swung open, and a figure stepped out. He was tall, his solid frame filling the space between the truck and the road. Rain glistened on his grey hair, streaked with white, and his black eyes gleamed with quiet intensity. A short, grizzled beard framed his weathered face. This was Abraham, though the woman and girl didn't know his name yet.Rocky spun toward him, his fists clenched. "Who the hell are you? Mind your own business, old man."Abraham didn't answer right away. His gaze flicked to the woman and girl, taking in their fear, then back to the three men. His expression hardened, a spark of anger flaring in his eyes. He'd been driving to Gulshan 1, delivering furniture for a late-night job, when he'd spotted the car and the confrontation. Something about the scene—the girl's terrified face, the woman's defiance—had pulled him to a stop.Sayan sneered, stepping forward. "What's your deal, huh? You want a piece of this, too?" He gestured at the woman and girl, laughing as if it were a joke. Rafsan snickered nervously behind him.Abraham's voice was low, steady, like gravel underfoot. "You boys picked the wrong night to play tough."Rocky lunged, his fist swinging wildly. Abraham sidestepped, his movements fluid despite his solid build, and drove a sharp jab into Rocky's jaw. The drunkard staggered, eyes rolling back, and crumpled to the pavement, unconscious. Rain pooled around his limp form.Sayan's smirk vanished. "You bastard!" He charged, throwing a sloppy punch. Abraham caught his arm, twisted, and delivered a swift roundhouse kick to Sayan's chest. The man gasped, collapsing in a heap, clutching his ribs.The girl's eyes widened. "Whoa," she whispered, forgetting her fear for a moment. "A roundhouse kick!" The woman shot her a sharp look, and the girl fell silent, cheeks flushing.Rafsan, pale and trembling, backed toward the car. "I-I didn't sign up for this!" He scrambled for the door, but Abraham was faster. He grabbed Rafsan's collar, yanked him back, and locked his arm around the man's neck in a headlock. Rafsan flailed, then went limp, slumping to the ground.The rain kept falling, the only sound for a moment as Abraham turned to the woman and girl. His voice softened, though his eyes stayed wary. "You two alright?"The woman nodded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the girl. "We're fine," she said, but her voice was tight, her gaze flickering between Abraham and the unconscious men. "You didn't have to do that."Abraham raised an eyebrow, wiping rain from his face. "Didn't do it for you," he said gruffly. "I just don't like bullies." He glanced at the girl, who peeked out from behind the woman, and something in his expression shifted—a flicker of pain, quickly buried.The woman hesitated, her distrust lingering. "Thanks, but we're not going anywhere with you. You just took out three men like it was nothing. What's to stop you from…" She trailed off, her meaning clear.Abraham's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Lady, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't need to play hero first." He paused, his gaze drifting to the girl. For a moment, his black eyes softened, and he saw another face—his daughter, laughing, years ago, before everything went wrong. His voice dropped, barely audible over the rain. "She'd be about her age, if she were still here."The woman caught the raw edge in his words, the way his hand clenched at his side. She studied him—the lines etched into his face, the quiet grief in his eyes—and something in her softened. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.Abraham shook his head, brushing it off. "I'm headed to Gulshan 1. You need a ride, my truck's dry. No strings attached."The girl tugged at the woman's sleeve, her voice small. "It's really cold out here."The woman sighed, glancing at the truck, then back at Abraham. "Alright," she said finally. "But I'm watching you."Abraham nodded, opening the passenger door. The girl climbed in first, followed by the woman, who kept one hand on the girl's shoulder. As Abraham settled into the driver's seat, the truck's engine roared to life, and they pulled onto the rain-slicked road.He didn't know who these two were, or why the woman's eyes held so much fear—not just of the men, but of him. And they didn't know the weight of the memories he carried, or the path that lay ahead. But as the truck rolled into the night, their journey began, bound by chance and a shared moment in the rain.