Part 30 - Caught in a Cave

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SKYLAB AND PRU'S wrists were tied together, they were dragged to the cavern where their men were secured, unlike the girls, they were not tied to each other.

"Oh, my God, what have you done to him," screamed Pru.

"I'm not a fan of people who think they are better than me, your husband believes he is better than most," stated Mat.

"He'll die if you don't release him!" Pru stammered.

"Yes," was Mat's answer.

"But why, what has he done to you?" asked Skylab.

"Not very much I agree, actually he probably deserves a reward," said Mat.

"What are you talking about, he only wanted to find his daughter," Skylab said.

"By tracking her down, he brought you to me," Mat chuckled.

Kev fought his ropes and failed to loosen them.

"Ladies, before you sit down, come with me please," said the gracious host.

They followed Mat to the back and the hidden open-way. He proudly showed his small nursery.

The women gasped.

"They'll die!" screamed Pru.

"That poor child is already dead!" shouted Skylab.

"Yes, my dear, that's why I need your baby," roared Mat, "you see for the magic to work, the dead body must still be warm."

Pru's legs failed her, she wanted to collapse in a heap, Skylab turned to run, she halted, she couldn't budge the older woman. And anyway, the opening was blocked by two of Mat's followers.

"Now ladies make yourselves comfortable at the back. When the time is right, I'll be back to operate, bye for now," Mat gave a cheery wave.

He then pushed between his men. The men blocked the exit and Far escorted the shocked ladies to the cave wall at the back.

Mat popped his head back inside the entrance, "Say hello to my son, his name is Şeytanoğlu, he will monitor you."

Laughter followed him out of hearing range.

Skylab was quietly weeping, Pru was more forceful with her tears, her cheeks were steaming. Unseen by anyone but Skylab, Far gave her the subtlest of winks.

Cheered, but unsure what that small signal could mean, Skylab recovered enough to look around, she nudged Pru.

"Look at that boy," she said.

Pru lifted her head, her crying had become sobs she noticed the young boy, sitting cross-legged surrounded by fruit. He was pointing at the women. His eyes were almost piercing the rock. His voice was old and croaky.

"Your baby will soon join us."

He waved an open palm at the baby girls below him. With his voice breaking, he cackled.

The women were staggered. What he said, and how he said it. They looked at each other agape.

"That was not normal!" stammered Skylab.

Pru was crossing herself. The women refused to believe what they had witnessed. They both thought it must be a trick or an illusion.


Gatts was pacing his office, "Where are they, what in hell's name has happened?"

He tried to stop panic rising any higher; he knew something had gone terribly wrong. His second in command was summoned to his office.

"What is the news about the flood in Kanchanaburi?"

"No new news, Sir. All the officers up there are flat out helping the fire service with the pumps. The army has been on site for the last hour, so the problem has eased. But still a long way from safety for hundreds of households."

"Get the captain on his mobile will you, I must meet him ASAP."

Gatts and his number two set off in a four-wheel-drive police vehicle. They hoped they wouldn't get stuck in one of the small villages on the way.

The driver slapped his forehead, "Sorry boss, looks like we have a hold-up."

Gatts immediately shouted into his radio, "What is going on? We are through Cha-Am and now stuck in a massive jam."

"The Bangkok train got derailed, because of the tracks flooding, the driver deemed it unsafe to continue. So he stopped, would you believe, on the crossing?"

"Well, bloody move him!" Gatts was not happy with the traffic department.

"It's dangerous sir."

"It will be dangerous for you if you don't move that train off the crossing. Forward or backwards, I don't care, but I need it shifted now," Gatts was nearly screaming.

Gatts slammed the car door and splashed off to check the railway crossing. There was no action except the train driver and a police officer shouting at each other above the noise of the storm. Guessing he was to be stuck there for hours, Gatts used his radio once more.

"I will walk to the other side of the track, make sure a vehicle is waiting for me. No, I'll drive myself."

The car waiting for Gatts was a four-door pickup truck; it was a vehicle used to transport hand-cuffed men on their way to court, or prison.

"Better than nothing," Gatts said to the sergeant who delivered it.

Luckily they had the forethought to have another car ready to take the sergeant back to the station. There was no chance that Gatts would take the extra time to run the officer back to work.

Patches of floodwater stretched across the main highway, meaning drivers with newer cars or those with less depth on the suspension, would swerve to miss the worst of the puddles. Gatts could not travel at the speed he intended, as vehicles would suddenly switch lanes and risk a collision. He was fuming.

His rage got worse as a saloon ahead suddenly stopped in the fast lane, an ice-cream truck piled into its rear, and ended sideways across the remaining two lanes. Gatts was stuck again.

"Anybody injured?" he asked.

"Look what the idiot has done to my new car," the lady driver of the four-door saloon whimpered.

Gatts pulled out his warrant card, "I saw exactly what happened, it was your own fault, now get this out of my way."

"It stalled when he hit me. Now it won't start," she called through the partly opened window.

Gatts looked around at the ice-cream van. The front wheel was bent, and the tyre had burst. The driver was shaking his head.

"Okay lady, get out. I'll start it."

She was more worried about her hair than her car. Gatts opened the driver's door and pulled her out to squeals of outrage. Gatts had used too much force, leaving her sprawled in the puddle.

"Oh, sorry about that, I'm in a rush."

He jumped in and the car started the first time; he pulled over to the hard shoulder, then ran back to the police truck and was once again on his way. He was wetter, but moving ahead.

The police were in a rush to vote!

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