Her cheeks were chalk white. Her mouth was set in a hard line. Her dark brown eyes filled with anger and sadness and fear. I stood beside her, panting, one hand held tightly against my heart. Why had she stopped like this? There was no time to lose! I started to protest, but she made a violent gesture, silencing me.
It was then that I heard the first terrible screams.
Two
I was numb, totally numb, and I had no will of my own. Sally took hold of my arm and pulled me into a large clump of shrubbery beside the path as the screaming continued, shrill, anguished screams followed by terrible gurgling sounds that were even more terrifying. We had come a long way from the clearing and were, I realized, only yards from the edge of the jungle and the campsite. If Sally hadn’t stopped we would have rushed directly into the midst of the terrible slaughter. Huddled in the shrubbery, concealed by large, rubbery-green leaves and garlands of vines hanging from the tree overhead, Sally and I listened, our arms wrapped tightly around each other as those nightmare noises filled the air.
One of the native bearers came rushing into the jungle, hotly pursued by two Thugs. We could see it all clearly through the network of leaves, the three of them almost close enough to touch. The bearer stumbled, falling to his knees, and the Thugs were upon him. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, throwing his arms up, and the scream died as a long yellow scarf was slung around his throat. The strangler wrenched mightily, twisting with savage strength, his eyes narrow slits, teeth bared, while his colleague seized the bearer’s arms and pulled in the opposite direction. There was a gasping, choking sound as the bearer thrashed and struggled, his face reddening, eyes bulging out in their sockets, and then there was a crisp snap and the body fell limp. The Thugs let it drop to the ground, grinning at each other.
I buried my face against Sally’s shoulder. She held me tightly, arms like bands of steel, and I could hear her heart pounding, pounding. Both of us trembled violently, and when I finally looked up the Thugs were wandering back toward the caravan, dragging the corpse behind them as though it were a limp sack of potatoes. There were no more screams now, just the excited merry babble of voices as the Thugs discussed their success. They began to move about the campsite, taking down tents, gathering various articles, dousing the fires, and there were heavy, scraping noises as the corpses were dragged behind the boulders toward the huge hole Sally had discovered earlier.
We could see part of the campsite through the dense congestion of leaf and branch and vine, see without being seen, and both of us grew still, arms still entwined, staring through the thick greenery at the scene of horror unfolding. There were at least thirty Thugs moving about, some of them folding up tents, some of them digging holes, burying the remains of camp fires, others kneeling on the ground, bundling up goods. They chattered away with jolly good humor, frequently laughing. Some were old, some very young, in their early teens, all wearing loose white trousers and long-sleeved white tops tied with sashes at the waist, heads turbaned. One of them held his long yellow rumal stretched between his hands, demonstrating to a companion how he had twisted it about a throat. His companion nodded with approval and pounded him on the back.
We saw them dragging the bodies away, so very casual about it, holding onto a foot or a hand and letting the body bump and bang over the rough ground, disappearing behind the boulders with their terrible load. I saw the fat, rotund body of Yasmin Singh, still wearing the elaborate apricot silk robe and maroon trousers, saw it bounce and bump as two men pulled it across the ground, each holding onto a foot. The head joggled up and down like a rubber ball. It was a scene of unimaginable horror from a nightmare world, not real at all. It can’t be real, I told myself. This can’t actually be happening.
“Are you all right?” Sally whispered.
“I—I think so. Sally, it’s—”
“I know. We—we have to be strong, Miss Lauren. We have to survive. That’s all that matters now—survival.”
“Those men who joined the caravan—they know we were there, know we weren’t murdered. They’ll come looking for us—”
“Maybe not,” she said. “It all happened so quickly. Perhaps they’ll think we were murdered, after all, our bodies—buried under the others. They—they seem to be in charge of the goods. See. They’re the ones giving orders. The grave will probably be half-full before they finish. Perhaps they won’t find out we escaped—at least for a while. We’ll just have to hope so.”
“What—what are we going to do?”
“Wait,” she said. “They generally leave the area as soon as possible, make their getaway promptly. If—if all goes well, they’ll be gone in a little while. We might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
Sally sat down, making an inordinately loud noise in the leaves, and I sat down beside her. There was a large tree trunk behind us, and we rested our backs against it, skirts spread out. Sally was still gripping the pistol, and she let it rest on her knee, looking completely calm and composed. Grass and vines and thorny shrubs concealed us, the limbs of the tree dipping down to form a tentlike shelter, but we could still see sections of the campsite through rifts. The last rays of sunlight had vanished and pale, milky moonlight bathed the scene. The figures moving about cast long black shadows over the sand. There were fewer men about now. All the corpses had been carried away. Most of the goods had been bundled. Men were leading the horses and camels away. In what seemed a matter of moments the campsite was deserted, the sand smooth, not a single sign of the caravan remaining.
“That—that noise,” I whispered.
“Try to ignore it, Miss Lauren.”
Because of the curious acoustics formed by the walls of the boulders, the noise was magnified, echoing into the night loud and clear. It was a crunching, splintering sound, followed by dull thuds, the sound of bodies being broken and hurled into the ground. With bones broken, corpses could be folded up, wouldn’t take up so much room in the grave, and when there were so very many corpses … I tried not to think about it. I tried to ignore it, as Sally had suggested, but it was impossible. When the noises finally ceased, there was the sound of shoveling, then stamping, and then voices talking quietly in the night. Long moments passed and then one voice seemed to chant, with others joining in, and I could make out “Kali,” repeated over and over again, “Kali,” then a sing-song chant. I knew they were performing their ceremony now, celebrating their victory and offering a blessing to the goddess. Coarse brown sugar would be passed around, and each Thug would partake of it, eyes exalted, faces glowing with religious ecstasy.
“It—it’s hideous,” I said.
“It’s almost over,” Sally replied. “At the moment I’m far more worried about cobras than Thugs. I do hope one doesn’t decide to venture our way.”
“I—I wish you hadn’t mentioned it.”
“I wish I hadn’t thought about it.”
There was something almost like humor in her voice, and I admired her for it. Sally was every bit as terrified as I was, but she knew we couldn’t give way to our fear, couldn’t afford to let hysteria overcome us. She was putting on a brave front, and I took courage from her, feeling the terrible panic subsiding a little. For some reason we had been spared, and now we both had to call upon every ounce of courage we possessed. We had to use our intelligence, keep calm, hold back the hysteria that lurked just beneath the surface.
“I longed for adventure,” Sally said, “but I didn’t have anything like this in mind. Right now I’d give anything to be back in that dull, wretched academy, snug in my own attic room, listening to the rain pattering on the roof. Even if I did have to get up at five o’clock in the morning.”
“I know. I feel the same way. I hated that place, but it seems like a paradise now.”
“They—they’ve stopped chanting. With any luck, they’ll be leaving shortly.”
“They might leave someone behind,” I said. “We’d best stay here—at least for the rest of the night.”
“My sentiments e
xactly. Thank goodness our trunks were sent on ahead. All your beautiful dresses—mine, too. At least they weren’t taken.”
“That hardly concerns me now.”
“My red dotted swiss—the one I bought just before we left. Remember? I’d be crushed if it were lost. I paid a fortune for that dress, almost all my savings, but I must say it was worth it. Does wonders for me.”
“How can you talk about clothes at a time like—”
“I’m trying, Miss Lauren. I—I’m trying—”
And then I saw the tears in her eyes, and I hated myself for not realizing what she was doing. Her chatter about clothes didn’t mean she was insensitive. Quite the contrary. She was chattering to keep from thinking, trying to distract me at the same time, and I loved her for it. I put my arms around her, and we comforted each other as best we could, silent now as night noises surrounded us, birds calling quietly, leaves rustling, a single ray of moonlight slanting through the limbs overhead and dusting us with softly diffused silver. Time passed, and I grew drowsy, but I knew it would be impossible to sleep, knew it would be foolish even to hope for sleep, and hours seemed to pass and insects buzzed with a monotonous rhythm and the birds called out and somehow, somehow I slept.
The monkey jabbered loudly, mocking me, and I awoke with a start, staring up at that tiny, wizened gray face framed with black fur. The monkey gave a loud, shrill cry and swung to another limb, disappearing from sight. I was stiff and sore, my hair tangled, my white muslin dress streaked with dirt and stains. Gleaming yellow-gold rays of sunlight spilled through the canopy of leaves overhead to make shadow-flecked pools all around. It took me a moment to realize where I was, and then I gasped, realizing that I was alone. Where was Sally? What had happened to her? I stood up, my heart palpitating, and then I heard her voice.
“Not for you, you little scoundrel. Get away now. Go on. My, you are persistent!”
I stepped through the shrubbery and onto the narrow pathway just in time to see a rosy-cheeked and radiant Sally holding up a piece of fruit to a nimble gray monkey who, hanging from a branch by one hand, seized the treasure with the other, chattering excitedly and scurrying on up the tree with his bounty. Sally held several pieces of fruit gathered up and caught in the fold of her skirt.
“Oh, you’re up. I don’t rightly know what they are,” she said, “but I saw a monkey eating them and figured they couldn’t be poisonous. There’re two kinds, one bright red, one brownish orange. I imagine they’re something like pomegranates.”
“Thank God,” I whispered. “I woke up, and when you weren’t there—”
“I’ve been up for hours,” Sally admitted. “Thought I’d best go scouting for food and water. I didn’t have any luck with water, but I did find these—I was rather hoping for bananas. Do bananas grow in India? Anyway, they’re delicious. I’ve already eaten two.”
“You shouldn’t have gone off like that,” I scolded.
“Oh, I carried my gun. Gives me such a feeling of security. I didn’t see any cobras, just those adorable monkeys and the prettiest birds! Lovely flowers, too, blue and purple and white and pink. Here, Miss Lauren, eat some of these. They’ll help quench your thirst, too.”
I was ravenously hungry, thirsty as well, and the fruit helped considerably. Sally continued to talk about her explorations, determinedly cheerful, as though this were one grand lark we had planned ourselves, and I admired her attitude. Panic wouldn’t help. We were stranded in the middle of the wilderness, without proper food or water, and only sheer fortitude would see us through. We were still alive, and that was something of a miracle. I finished the fruit, wiping my hands on the tattered hem of my skirt, feeling much better.
“It seems we’re in a bit of a mess,” I remarked.
“Yes, indeed,” Sally replied, “but we’ll muster through. We English are celebrated for it. Stiff upper lip and all that. It isn’t going to be easy, but we’ll make it.”
“Of course we will.”
“The—the Thugs are gone. They never came looking for us, so—so perhaps we’re safe on that score. Then again, those men who knew we were with the caravan might start comparing notes with the others.…” She hesitated just a moment, frowning. “They might realize we weren’t killed after all. They—they might send some men back to finish the job. We’ve got to take that into consideration, Miss Lauren. Might as well face the facts. The Thugs never leave witnesses—”
“And that’s what we are,” I said.
“If one of those five men happens to mention the two English girls, if they.…” Again she hesitated, her eyes dark and troubled. “They’d probably only send two or three men back to finish the job,” she continued, “and this pistol is fully loaded.”
“It’s something we’ll just have to face if—if the time comes,” I replied. “They probably traveled all night. They’re bound to be dozens and dozens of miles away by now.”
“We’ll just have to persevere,” Sally said. “It won’t be so bad. We have a lot of walking ahead of us—”
“That won’t hurt us. The caravan was just two days from Dahlkari. If we just keep moving—”
“It will be a bit warm, that sun’s already fierce, but—I know what we’ll do, we’ll make parasols from those big green leaves I saw back there, and that’ll help. We’ll carry lots of this fruit.”
“And maybe we’ll find some water. I—I think there are wells along the way. I’m not nearly so thirsty now, not after eating that fruit. We’ll skirt the edge of this jungle and head due east. Thank goodness both of us are wearing kid boots.”
“It’ll be fun!” Sally exclaimed.
And then, realizing how ridiculous her exclamation was under the circumstances, we both burst into gales of laughter, for all the world like two schoolgirls. There was a slight edge of hysteria to the laughter, but I felt much, much better for it. Each of us was being resolute and optimistic for the sake of the other, realizing that any show of weakness would be fatal. It wasn’t a lark, far from it, but we had to keep up our spirits somehow. It would be all too easy to panic, and panic could only lead to defeat.
“You go gather more fruit, Miss Lauren, lots of it, and I’ll get those leaves and make our parasols. The fruit trees are just down the pathway, on the right. You can’t miss ’em. Watch out for the monkeys, though. They’re greedy little demons, will try to snatch it out of your hands.”
She smiled, tossing her head, long tarnished gold locks spilling about her shoulders, brown eyes sparkling. If I had to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, I was glad it was with Sally. I hated to think of how one of the girls from the academy would have reacted under the same circumstances. Sally bounced down the path, gold and brown sprigged yellow skirt fluttering over her petticoats, a merry creature, full of verve and vitality and not about to admit defeat. She disappeared, and I could hear her scolding back at a monkey. I took heart, telling myself that things weren’t nearly as bad as they might seem.
Spirits rising, I brushed a smudge of dirt from my skirt, and then I saw the ground and realized that I was standing in almost exactly the spot where the bearer had been murdered last night. I could feel the color leaving my cheeks, feel my pulses leap, and a wave of weakness swept over me. Remembering the horror, I had to brace one palm against a tree to keep from falling. I closed my eyes, and for a moment the hideous nightmare replayed itself in my mind. I bit my lower lip, praying for strength, and after a moment it came. It had been a nightmare, yes, and … and that was how I had to classify it, a shimmering illusion of horror, dreamlike, unreal, something that had never really happened at all. If I let myself dwell on it I wouldn’t be able to go on.
Poor, boastful Yasmin Singh, plump and pleasant, bragging about his wealth and prestige. Ahmed, young and swaggering and full of life, such a beautiful youth. All the servants and bearers, men who probably had large families. Yesterday so alive, and now.… I took a deep breath and stood up straight and deliberately forced the images out of my mind. I couldn’t allo
w myself to think about it. I thought about Dollie and Reggie and the warm welcome awaiting us at Dahlkari. They … they wouldn’t miss us because they didn’t know when we were due to arrive. They expected us to arrive with Lieutenant Parks and a full military escort. We could expect no one to come looking for us, not for days and days, no one except the Thugs who might return to finish the job.
Stop it! I admonished myself sharply, and this time I was successful. The nightmare was over, over, and the sunlight was radiant this morning, slanting through the dark green treetops in dazzling yellow-gold rays, creating soft blue-gray shadows, and white flowers blossomed on vines like tiny showers spilling down. Bright green parakeets flitted overhead, singing and scolding, while the ever-present monkeys swung from limb to limb, making a friendly, noisy clatter. The jungle was anything but ominous now as I moved purposefully down the path to the tall grayish-tan trees so heavy with fruit that the boughs nearly touched the ground, fruit like Christmas tree ornaments, dark-orange, bright red.
As we would have to carry the fruit, I unceremoniously lifted my skirt and ripped off one of my petticoats, folding it into a makeshift carry bag which I slowly began to fill. A swarm of white and yellow butterflies suddenly materialized, hovering over me like scraps of fluttering silk, hanging there for a moment, trembling on air, then passing on. Sally was right about the monkeys. One brazen little creature perched on a limb nearby and watched me with head cocked to one side, finally swooping down and snatching a piece of fruit from my hand. I laughed, a lovely, spontaneous laugh, and I knew then that it was going to be all right.
Sally had already fashioned our parasols when I returned with the heavily laden bag. The leaves were thick and heavy, a very dark green, almost two feet in circumference, and she had fastened the stems of five together for each parasol, attaching the stems to the top of long sticks with strips of white cotton that had previously been ruffles on one of her petticoats. I had often grumbled about the necessity of wearing so many undergarments, anything less than five considered shockingly lax by the ladies at the academy, but they were certainly proving useful now. By the time we finally reached Dahlkari we would probably both be down to our bloomers, I thought, smiling.
Danger at Dahlkari Page 3
