Chase Baker and the God Boy: (A Chase Baker Thriller Series Book No. 3) (14 page)

“Under a tarp in a patch of woods,”
he says, nodding toward a wooded area not far away from the store’s backside.
“Nobody will bother her there.” Then, “Also, our general store sells more than
camping equipment. He raises the tail on his denim work shirt to reveal an
automatic, the barrel of which is stuffed inside his pant waist.

“Nine millimeter?” I say.

“Of course,” he says. “I need to
rely on stopping power.”

“Let’s hope you don’t have to.”

Now, with everyone mounted and the
Sherpas out ahead of us with Maglites poking bright holes in the thick
darkness, I give the order to proceed.

“Let’s find Elizabeth,” I say.

“Alive,” Anjali says. “Just like
Rajesh.”

“Yes,” I say, my heart suddenly
sinking into my stomach, “let’s hope we haven’t made this trip for nothing.”

We trudge through the thick forest for more than an hour, only
the occasional mosquito stealing its share of blood from my veins breaking up
the monotony but, at the same time, adding to the tension. The jungle is a
different world at night. It’s when the place comes alive. Beneath a canopy of trees,
every animal, insect, and bird comes out of its hiding place in search of food
and love.

At night, the noise in the jungle
can be deafening, but it can also be a spooky place with vampire bats sweeping
down so close to your head you feel as if they’re touching you with their
fur-covered skin. Sticky cobwebs as thick as shoelaces smack you in the face as
the elephants transport you between a narrow opening created by two iron trees.

I take the lead while Anjali rides directly
behind me. Behind her is Rudy, who’s drinking whiskey from one of the pint
bottles and whistling a tune the entire time like he’s not got a care in the
world. Riding on our tail is Tony. Behind him, the two supply elephants. When I
feel we’ve gone far enough into the jungle, I give the order to stop and set up
camp.

“Tony,” I say, as the elephant
bends down on its front knees and I slide down off its back, “grab up the drone.”

It’s time we make our first attempt
at locating the exact location of our diamond mine.

The Sherpas set up the tents and
gather firewood while Tony and I power up the drone. Anjali is in charge of
monitoring her smartphone with the real-time visuals of whatever the drone
picks up with its multiple cameras. If my hunch serves me correctly, the bastards
who took Elizabeth hostage will be working around the clock to mine the diamond
deposit for its infinite riches. And if that’s indeed true, the spot in which
they’re working should be lit up like a Christmas tree.

Unpacking the drone, we need a
place in the forest where we’re not surrounded by trees. Lucky for us, the jungle
territory inside and outside the boundaries of the Chitwan National Forest contains
as many open plains of tall grass as it does deep cover. Following the light of
the moon, we walk towards an opening that’s no more than one hundred paces from
our camp. From this point on, it’s just a matter of powering up the droid and
synching the infrared night-vision camera with Anjali’s iPhone. When the camera
sync is complete, I set the drone onto the grassy floor while Tony powers it up
via the remote control.

“You ever use these before, Tony?”

“You’re not an excavator unless you
have one of these in your arsenal these days,” he says. “There’s no more
accurate way to lay out a site, believe me. Your father would have loved these
little babies. Plus they’re fun to fly. It’s a goddamned toy.”

“Tony, you have changed, my friend.
Smartphones, computers, unmanned drones. What’s next, Google Glasses?”

“I got me a pair of them too.
Probably burned up in the fire you started. I’ll add them to my bill.”

He thumbs some switches on the
remote and suddenly, the drone propellers come to life with a low-key, buzzsaw
sound. A moment after that, we have lift off. While the drone quickly gains
altitude, I peer over Anjali’s shoulder and focus in on the smartphone screen.
I see the jungle floor we occupy, our bodies illuminated in a bright orange
glow. I even wave at myself down here on the ground.

“What’s our range?” I ask Tony.

“We can operate this baby safely
within a radius of twenty miles. Elizabeth and the assholes who took her are
any further out than that, we’re screwed anyway.”

“How will you know which direction
to go?” Anjali asks.

“I start by making small circles
and then I’ll make like a corkscrew and increase the radius a little bit more
and a little bit more with each revolution until I find them.”

“A plan as good as any,” I say.

We stand in silence while the drone
performs its reconnaissance mission, scouring the forest for any sign of
artificial light besides our own. The machine makes six or seven full circular
sweeps before Anjali’s screen begins to broadcast something other than pitch
darkness. A dim light begins to bleed into the small rectangular screen. Barely
noticeable at first, but getting brighter all the time, as the silhouette of
the leafy treetops begin to take shape.

“Try and tighten the circle to the
northeast, Tone. We’ve got something.”

Anjali inverts her smartphone,
reveals the picture to Tony.

“Okay,” he says, “I’m just gonna
make a few figure eights in a northeasterly direction.”

Within a few seconds, the project
comes into view. An area about the size of an acre, lit up with mobile lamps.
The infrared light is picking up bodies moving back and forth from what looks
to be an opening in the ground, like a man-made tunnel. The opening appears to
be hidden by a tin-roofed shack. It’s exactly how I relay it to Anjali and
Tony.

“Can we zoom in at all, Tone?”

He does it. The camera zooms in
close enough so that I can see the vague faces of men dressed in black robes, boots,
and matching turbans, automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. They’re
guarding another group of men and women who are scantily dressed and wheeling
wheel barrels out of the tunnel opening, depositing their contents onto
conveyor crusher belts that feed flat vibrating screens which I know from
experience serve as sieves or sifters.

“Holy crap,” I say, “they’ve
employed slave labor to do the digging.”

“Funny way to put,” Anjali says.
“Employed.”

“What about Elizabeth?” Tony says.
“Do you see her?”

Anjali and I stare down at the
phone, at the pathetic people coming and going from the cave with their wheel
barrels. But there’s something else going on too. As the drone camera shifts
further east, the ground seems to open up wide as if it weren’t ground at all,
but a giant mouth. There’s a bright light emanating from the opening. Light
isn’t even the right word for it. More like an earthly sun glowing or radiating
from out of the ground.

“Need more detail!” I bark at Tony.

“Let me adjust the contrast on the
camera,” he says.

The brightness of the illumination
is shielded somewhat to reveal a hard surface that glows. The surface must be
at least one hundred feet wide by the same distance long. Surrounding the
glowing surface on all sides are worshipers. It’s hard to tell, but I’m
guessing they’re all men, all of them dressed in black, down on their knees as
though praying in reverence before the opening.

It hits me then.

“The diamond deposit,” I say. “That
can be the only explanation.”

“But I thought the map engraved on
the back of the Kali Statue was supposed to lead us to the diamond deposit,” Anjali
says. “I’m not following.”

The camera continues to move,
continues to focus in on the deposit. Soon, I begin to make out something
situated in the center of the glowing deposit. It’s a statue.

“More focus, Tone,” I insist. “More
zoom. Hold the drone’s position right there.”

“Okay,” he answers. “She’s hovering.
But it’s only a matter of time before one of those religious fanatics spots
it.”

As the picture on the smartphone
zooms in, I begin to make out the statute. It’s about the size of a large human
being. It’s the eight-armed golden Kali. She’s seated in lotus position, a
portion of her lower body embedded into the deposit itself as if it the statue
were miraculously born from out of the mammoth diamond.

“The Golden Kali Statue wasn’t the source
of a map at all,” I say. “It was a marker. Elizabeth finally found it. And at
the same time, revealed it to Kashmiri.”

“At gun point no doubt,” Tony points
out.

There’s something else going on
too. A commotion coming from the crowd as they split in two. Two big men are
dragging someone by her arms towards the diamond deposit. The woman has long hair,
and she’s wearing a black shawl.

“Holy Christ that’s Elizabeth,” I
say, my heart sinking into my stomach as if it were made of rock.

She’s clearly struggling. Clearly
not wanting anything to do with what’s happening. The two big men proceed to lead
her out onto the glowing diamond deposit before chaining each of her arms to
what appear to be two concrete pillars set before the Kali statue. My heart
pounds. I want to scream at her to get out. To run. But I’m powerless.

“My God, Chase, what are they doing
to her?” Anjali says.

“I don’t know for sure,” I say
swallowing something bitter and dry. “I’ve only seen it in old documentary movies,
but I’m beginning to think this is the start of a Thuggee ceremony. And if
that’s the case, she’s in deep trouble.”

As the two men leave her, a kind of
billowing smoke rises from the surface of the diamond deposit as if it’s
heating up. Two more figures enter the scene. One man is tall and black-bearded.
He’s also wearing a black robe and turban, wrapped around his waist is a blood-red
sash. He’s also holding a staff.

“Kashmiri,” I whisper. Then, “Tony,
how far away are we from the diamond deposit? I need to get to Elizabeth. Get
to them now.”

“You’ll never make it, Chase. It’s
twelve or thirteen miles out through thick jungle, minimum.”

I feel almost faint I’m so panicked
by the sight of the ceremony. There’s not a damn thing I can do other than
stand there and watch.

“Do you see Rajesh?” Anjali begs,
panic in her voice.

Another object appears on the
screen. It’s a mobile platform being pulled by two Thuggees. Chained to the
platform is a little boy with six arms. The boy is outfitted in a gold turban,
gold tunic and pants, his feet bare. Because of the spotlights and the glow
from the diamond deposit, the drone camera is able to pick up the sparkling
light that’s shining off the many diamonds he wears on all thirty of his
fingers.

“Rajesh,” Anjali screams, slapping
her hand against her mouth.

I wrap my arm around her.

“It’s okay,” I say. “He’s alive and
that’s what counts.”

As soon as Kashmiri comes to the
edge of the diamond deposit, he spreads his arms and stares up at the dark
night sky. Raising his black staff, it appears that he’s begun to chant
something. Chant something to the Gods maybe. Because we’re not always picking
up audio, there’s no way to make out exactly what he’s saying. But just
watching his intensity makes my heart pound. Behind him, it appears the
worshippers begin chanting along with him. They’re now down on all fours,
banging their foreheads on the hard ground, as though inflicting pain on their
own bodies is a way of summoning something evil up from the very depths of the
earth.

My heart beats harder. Mouth goes
dry. Throughout my adventures, I’ve witnessed physical proof of a divine God
and even proof of alien beings. But never before have I come face to face with
Satan. The smoke coming from the deposit grows more and more intense while the
surface takes on a red/orange glow. Elizabeth struggles against the chains that
bind her. She’s in great pain. I can feel her pain even from where I’m
standing. Meanwhile, the boy seems to be trembling, shaking, as he enters into
a convulsive state.

“What are they going to do to her, Chase?”
Anjali cries out. Then, “What’s happening to Rajesh?”

I turn to her. “Don’t look at it.”

Something extraordinary happens
then. The earth seems to shake, and Kashmiri begins to levitate. His body lifts
up and he is carried by a power not of this world over the surface of the
smoking, glowing diamond deposit. The closer the bearded man comes to Elizabeth,
the more she struggles against the chains.

When finally he is upon her, he
reaches inside his robes with his free hand, produces a dagger shaped like a
crescent moon. He holds the dagger up to the heavens as if for inspection. The
earth shakes once more and a bolt of lightning flashes from the sky to the tip
of the blade. For a brief moment the drone trembles and shakes.

“Easy baby,” Tony says, his hands
maneuvering the remote controls. “I can’t hold the drone for much longer,
Chase. Not if we wanna get her back in one piece.”