part0036

They kept a safe distance, moving only when the troop of men dropped out of sight, sticking to the dense undergrowth wherever possible. Using the moonlight to guide them, Ana and Chakrit followed the well-trodden path as it wound uphill towards an unknown destination.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the clouds hung thick and foreboding, threatening another deluge before the night’s end. The jungle was curiously silent save for the distant footsteps of the tribe and the occasional shout from Rachel. Ana wished to call out to her, to let her know they were not far behind. She must be so frightened. She wondered if Chakrit was too. He seemed calm, rolling a cigarette whenever they drew too close as if he was waiting at a bus stop. The knife poked out of the back of his shorts, sometimes catching the glint of the moon on its sharpened blade.

Chakrit stopped, holding up a hand for her to do the same. Ana could see the men ahead, glimpses of their bald heads in the distance. She crouched, wishing for some clothes. She was far beyond modesty by now, but it would be nice to have something to protect her from the thorns and leaves that scratched at her exposed skin. If Paul had been a gentleman, he would have given her his shirt, instead of running off like a frightened little boy. What was he even doing wearing a Beyonce shirt in the first place?

If she ever got her hands on him, she would kill him.

Chakrit moved on, his feet padding on the soft earth. He paused, sniffing the air. Ana smelt it too, the most vile odour ever to assail her nostrils. Chakrit, keeping low, crossed to the other side of the path and beckoned her over. She crept over to his side, pinching her nose shut and breathing through her mouth. Chakrit waited several minutes until he was sure the men were far enough away, then took out his torch and flicked it on.

They found themselves perched on the rim of a pit filled with dozens of dead bodies. Ana quickly turned away, her stomach reeling, then forced herself to look back. Was Rachel in there?

Chakrit moved the beam across the bodies like a searchlight, pausing whenever he alighted on a corpse that looked fresh enough to be recent.

She saw Bret, his limbs hacked from his body, eyes staring into space. Darren too, though she only recognised him by his underwear. His head was unrecognisable, crushed to a pulp. They lay on a bed of bloated, green flesh and rotting carcasses, skeletal limbs jutting out from underneath like springs from an old sofa. She couldn’t see Lisa anywhere. Maybe she had escaped?

Chakrit switched the flashlight off and swore in Thai.

‘Someone’s coming.’

Ana heard it too. Was it from in front of them or behind? It was impossible to tell. Sound travelled oddly here. They had to hide. She glanced back. The trees were too far. Could they make it? In her periphery she could see a light approaching. Chakrit placed a hand on the small of her back and she knew what was coming. It was their only chance. He pushed, and she slid forwards into the loathsome pit.

‘Hide,’ said Chakrit as he joined her.

Ana reached out and grabbed one of the bodies, finding it surprisingly insubstantial. Her hands touched the rubbery skin and she gagged.

The light approached the clearing. A flaming torch.

Almost out of time, she lifted the delicate body and scooched down underneath it until she was lying on top of another, her hands touching the white bone of a skull, small patches of flesh still clinging on. She was sure she would be sick. She chanced a look to her right but couldn’t see Chakrit. The man with the torch came closer, reaching the edge of the pit and stopping there, holding out the torch. Ana froze, holding her breath, her mind numb with terror. She looked down, fearful of making eye contact with the man, his light source brightening the pit, allowing Ana to stare right into the blackened face of a corpse, its eyes sealed shut, the white teeth shocking against the discoloured flesh.

She was going to vomit. Her stomach turned somersaults, jerking her body, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to know if the man had spotted her. Her body tensed, fighting the urge to spray stomach acids all over the face of the ancient carcass beneath her and run shrieking from this place into warm, hellish oblivion.

One time — she must have been about seven or eight — she and Rachel had played hide and seek in their grandma’s house, a colossal three-storey Victorian monstrosity. Rachel had been doing the seeking, Ana tearing up the stairs as her sister loudly raced through the numbers up to one-hundred as fast as she could.

‘Ready or not, here I come!’

Ana was on the second floor, heart beating, excitement building. She almost went into the lounge then remembered the door always banged shut, so ran past it and headed into one of the spare rooms. She ignored the bed and headed for the grand oak wardrobe, sliding her way in and tenderly closing the door behind her, keeping it slightly ajar, allowing a shard of light to find its way in. There she had sat, tension building in her gut, listening to her sister go from room to room, crying ‘gotcha!’ every time she burst through a door.

Hide and seek was not Ana’s forte. She usually got too excited and started to laugh as her sister got nearer, giving away her position, the excitement and fear too much for her to take. This time in the wardrobe was different.

Because she wasn’t alone.

She made the mistake of glancing up, the light allowing her a glimpse of something moving towards her. A spider. In retrospect it was tiny, a house spider, but to Ana it was enormous, a terrifying eight-legged monstrosity come to suck her blood and drag her back to its web next to the flies as a warning to other little girls playing hide and seek.

She slid down onto her back, rigid with fear, staring up as it descended, unable to cry out. She wanted to run but her legs wouldn’t respond so she lay there, watching the spider’s inexorable journey until Rachel burst open the door and cried ‘Gotcha!’ and she ran screaming from the wardrobe and down the stairs into her grandmother’s arms.

The stakes were higher now, but the terror felt the same. How long was the man going to stand there? What was he looking for? Had he heard them, or perhaps seen Chakrit’s torchlight?

There were more footsteps. She tried to think happy thoughts but kept coming back to being trapped in the wardrobe, her first childhood taste of adult horrors, and the weeks of nightmares that inevitably followed. Still, they weren’t a patch on the nightmares that had plagued her for most of her adult life.

The men were coming back. She could hear them. Unlike earlier, when they had walked in deathly silence, this time they talked in the same unfamiliar language she had heard in her dreams.

She waited some more.

The corpse on top of her moved. What if it wasn’t dead? What if this pit was full of people waiting to die but unable to, kept alive by some kind of mad sorcery?

‘We go now,’ said Chakrit, lifting the body from her and letting it fall to the side. He held out a hand which she gratefully took, her feet struggling to find purchase on the ghoulish remains.

‘Are they gone?’

‘Was Rachel with them? My sister?’

‘Then she can’t be far.’

Chakrit climbed out of the pit first, then helped Ana. They sat on the verge for a moment, then Ana turned and spewed. Chakrit knelt by her, one hand resting on her back.

She finished and got to her feet.

‘You okay?’ asked Chakrit .

‘Sure. Just crawled out of a mass grave, but sure, I’m okay.’

‘You’re strong. Stronger than your friend.’

‘Paul is no friend of mine.’

‘Good. Me neither. Let’s go.’

They started down the path again, Chakrit taking the knife from his shorts and crouching low. Further ahead they could see a light penetrating the darkness.

The end was in sight.

Ana and Chakrit peered out from the deep foliage, surveying the scene for any unwanted surprises. The cave itself stood only about six feet high, then sloped down rapidly. Deep inside, something burned.

‘What now?’ whispered Ana.

‘Not many options.’

‘No turning back,’ agreed Ana. ‘She has to be in there.’

Though not quite worthy of celebration yet, the situation was at least less dire than it had been for a while. Since the attack on the boat, things had gone from bad to worse to fucking nightmarish. Their fruitless trek up the hill had led to Ricky’s death and their capture and imprisonment. Then Rachel had been tortured and taken and Paul had hot-footed it back to the boat, leaving her with a man she didn’t know. At the time, she had been running on empty, ready to give in and give up at the slightest provocation. Now she felt reinvigorated.

Okay, she still felt like shit, but at least she was closing in on her sister. It was a considerable improvement over a few hours ago. All they had to do now was sneak into the cave, rescue Rachel from inside and get back down to the boat, where Chakrit’s uncle waited to whisk them all to safety.

‘Ready?’ asked Chakrit.

She took a deep breath. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the cheek. ‘I just want to say thanks. Thanks for helping me. You didn’t have to do any of this.’

‘It not over yet.’

‘You’ve done well. Survived a long time.’

She realised she was still holding onto his muscular arm and let go.

‘Come on,’ she said, walking away. ‘You’re making me blush. Let’s find my sister and get the fuck out of here.’

They walked silently together into the cave, not knowing what horrors lay in store in that vast, underground cavern, where ancient evil slumbered and nightmares came shockingly true.