Crybaby - Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven of the blockbuster new novel, Crybaby by best selling, multi-award-winning author Mark Watson...
CRYBABY
©Copyright 2024 by Mark Watson
CRYBABY PART 2
CHAPTER 11
Cat and mice
The day after the funerals, the rainforest was quieter than usual. As the sun rose and warmed the damp canopy, steam rose from the mountains and hills. A smoky mist clung to the foliage, curling around the trunks of ancient trees and drifting across the forest floor.
"Still no reply from Deepak," said the bandit who had been coordinating the search for Crybaby the day before and was back at the radio today.
"Did you say his name over the radio?" snapped Bheema, the bandit lieutenant, lounging in Rahul's hammock. Although not explicitly forbidden, it was something he definitely wouldn’t have done if the mayor had been present and not preoccupied in the village.
"Of course not, I’m not stupid," the bandit lied. In truth, he was as foolish as the day was long. He had, in fact, managed to name most, if not all, of the men searching the rainforest during the lashing thunderstorm at least once or twice, instead of using the initials of their first names as the designated code words.
The search party had been selected for that very reason: each member's name started with a different letter so the coordinator wouldn’t get confused and could refer to them solely by their initials—R, D, S, J, and so on. Unfortunately, they were short-staffed that day. Most of the bandits from the surrounding villages had returned to their respective homes, leaving only the full-timers—those either on the run from the law or driven out of their own villages and towns, now living in the hilltop ruin.
“Let me speak to the boss,” Bheema said, climbing out of the hammock. He hesitated before calling the mayor, harboring a superstitious fear that the bandit leader would somehow know, just from his voice, that he had been in his spot.
At the same time Bheema called Rahul, back at the Onion House, Ahanna hung up the phone after speaking with her boss in the city. “No elephants today,” she said. “Let’s check on those guys searching the forest.”
“Are you ready for this, Raj?” For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Ahanna didn’t fully trust Rahul. It wasn’t just that she believed he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Crybaby the moment he found it—there was something else about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Fortunately, he was preoccupied, working on a watchtower on the western side of the village, where it opened out onto the fields. He had gathered the men who worked in the quarry and begun constructing what was basically a platform on scaffolding poles with a ladder. Under his supervision, it was going up fast and would be ready later that day. In the meantime, it kept him occupied; most of the village had turned up to help or watch the construction.
Ahanna had watched Raj closely during the funerals the day before. His initial fear and shock had gradually hardened into resolve, and she had seen him grow more determined as the day progressed. The other surviving policemen had stood with Rahul, as though they had already chosen their side, while Raj stood apart, his arms wrapped around his wife, who consoled him during the cremation of his mentor and former boss, Nisheed. It was in that moment that Ahanna decided to trust Raj completely. She would bring him into the inner circle of trust that she and her ranger team had formed over the course of several dangerous and memorable missions. As the ceremonies drew to a close, she had approached him and said, "Meet us at the Onion House tomorrow at dawn. We're going out."
When Raj arrived early the next morning, they took his rifle and handed him a tranquilizer gun instead. Ahanna gathered the rangers together.
“Here’s the plan,” she began. “Today, the villagers are building a watchtower on the northwestern end of the village, so we’re going to sneak out the eastern side and head toward the quarry. Yesterday, we intercepted communications from a group of men, possibly ten or more, in the rainforest hunting for Crybaby. One of them, a man named Deepak, went missing near the quarry and hasn’t returned. Raj, you’ll come with me,” she gestured at Raj, "and you two," pointing to two of the rangers, "while the rest of you," she indicated the remaining rangers, "will create a distraction. Test the drones over by the western fields. Make a big show of it—let the kids see the drones. When you’re sure no one’s watching, send us the signal,” she demonstrated by tapping her radio three times, “and we’ll head out to investigate.”
An hour later, Ahanna, Raj and the rangers, all equipped with tranquilizer rifles, slipped out of the Onion House through one of its false, plastic-sheeted walls. Moving quickly and quietly, they crossed the short distance into the dense cover of the rainforest.
Ahanna and the rangers took the lead. Raj walked slightly behind monitoring the radio, his rifle slung across his back. He hoped he wouldn’t find Crybaby in this area, but he wasn’t taking any chances either. The rangers moved quickly and efficiently, slashing through the thick, tangled vines that crisscrossed the path ahead.
"Just static from Deepak's radio," Raj replied, his face grim. "Whatever happened, it's not good."
The bandits, led by Bheema, weren’t far off, though neither group was aware of the other’s exact location. The bandits had set out earlier that morning, determined to find their missing comrade, but not for reasons of camaraderie or concern. Deepak’s failure to report back had raised suspicions. If he was dead, they needed to know how. If he’d run, they needed to deal with him. Either way, they had orders to recover his body—or silence him.
One of the newer recruits, a wiry man named Jagan, whispered to the lieutenant, “What if the elephant got him? What if Crybaby’s out there?”
Bheema shot Jagan a withering glance. “Then we find him fast. Dead or alive, we don’t leave without knowing.”
But deep down, Bheema was worried. The jungle felt wrong. Crybaby’s presence was a silent, ever-present threat. It wasn’t just the elephant that had Bheema on edge; it was the forest itself. Everything felt more dangerous now, like the natural order had been turned upside down since Crybaby went rogue.
Meanwhile, Ahanna, Raj and the two other rangers continued their careful search, their eyes constantly scanning the surrounding jungle. The dense canopy above them made it feel later in the day than it actually was, with only thin shafts of light breaking through the leaves. The ground was littered with half-rotted leaves and fallen branches, making every step a potential hazard.
"Wait," Raj whispered suddenly, holding up a hand.
The group halted, and Ahanna followed Raj’s gaze. There, barely visible through the mist and thick foliage, was the faint outline of something unnatural—rocks displaced, mud smeared across them, and broken branches scattered like debris.
They moved closer, cautiously.
"It looks like there was a struggle here," one of the rangers said quietly.
Ahanna crouched down and examined the ground. Deepak’s machete lay half-buried in the mud, its blade chipped and covered in dirt. Nearby, drag marks led toward a rocky overhang. Her pulse quickened. The marks were unmistakable.
“He was here,” she said, her voice tense. “But he wasn’t alone.”
The air seemed to grow colder as they followed the marks under the overhang, moving carefully into the shadowed space beneath. The stench hit them first—the unmistakable smell of death, mixed with the damp rot of the jungle and something else, a thick, musty odor, like the smell of basmati rice. Ahanna and the rangers knew that smell; it meant a tiger was nearby.
Then they saw it.
Deepak’s body lay crumpled just inside the cave, barely recognizable. His face was shredded, his torso torn open, deep gashes crossing his limbs. The scene was brutal, almost animalistic in its savagery. Ahanna felt her stomach turn. This was no accident.
Raj exhaled sharply. “Crybaby?” he asked, though Ahanna wasn’t sure. This level of violence seemed different—more deliberate, more predatory.
As they inspected the body, one of the rangers spotted something in the corner, partially obscured by rocks—huge paw prints, unmistakably feline.
“A tiger,” the ranger said, his voice low. “It must’ve found him first.”
Ahanna nodded slowly, her mind racing. The tiger had attacked Deepak, but why had he come here in the first place?
“Oh no, oh no. It’s Susanna,” Raj breathed. He beckoned frantically for the group to move away from the cave. They hastily rounded the corner of the rocky outcrop and crouched down. “There’ve been rumors of a huge female tiger around here for years. Occasionally, one of the quarry workers disappears, but we never had the time to hunt her down. She’s fierce. A real man-eater.” He glanced around nervously. “To be honest, we thought it was just stories…
…They call her Susanna.”
At that moment, a faint noise echoed from deeper in the jungle, followed by the unmistakable sound of voices. Ahanna and Raj exchanged a quick glance.
They moved quickly, slipping into the shadows and crouching low behind the vegetation, out of sight of the cave. From their hiding spot, they could see the bandits emerge, guns drawn, their faces set in grim determination. Bheema was at the front, his eyes scanning the area, taking in the scene.
“Looks like the tiger got him,” Jagan muttered, stepping forward and nudging Deepak’s lifeless body with the tip of his boot.
Bheema crouched down, inspecting the drag marks and the mutilated remains of his comrade. His expression darkened. “He didn’t die fast,” he said flatly.
“What do we do with him?” asked Jagan.
“Leave him.” He pointed at the smashed walkie-talkie next to the corpse’s hand. “Grab that, and let’s go. If that tiger comes back, we’re lunch. We know what happened, so let’s get the hell out of here. This place is cursed.”
As the bandits ventured deeper into the forest, Ahanna signaled silently for the rangers to follow at a safe distance.
Before they had time to react, silently and so quickly it felt like a dream, a massive tiger slipped out of the cave, right in front of them, and disappeared into the dense jungle behind the men. It hadn't seen them, and thankfully, no one cried out in surprise, but it was terrifying. The tigress had passed barely two meters in front of them—a flash of yellow and black—and then it was gone.
The rangers stopped, as still as statues. The air felt charged, almost electric, and an eerie silence had settled over the forest. Even the birds and insects had gone quiet. They waited a few seconds, their hearts pumping in their chests then set off after the men and the tiger that prowled after them. Ahanna glanced at Raj, who nodded, acknowledging the danger they were in.
The bandits pushed forward, their movements noisy and hurried. Now they knew what had happened to Deepak they wanted to get back to their hideout as quickly as possible, away from the double threat of the crazed, killer elephant and the man-eating tiger. They weaved through the dense undergrowth, weapons at the ready, the tension palpable. Every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig set them on edge, their eyes darting nervously to the shadows around them.
Ahanna and the rangers followed from a distance, their steps careful and soundless. Raj kept his rifle gripped tightly, his gaze shifting between the bandits ahead and the thick jungle surrounding them.
Susanna moved like a ghost through the underbrush, her massive form gliding silently between the trees. The tiger’s yellow and black stripes blended perfectly with the dappled shadows of the rainforest, making her nearly invisible. Her amber eyes locked onto the intruders, ears twitching as she picked up every sound and movement.
The bandits stumbled upon a clearing, the canopy above opening to reveal a sliver of sky. They halted, scanning the area, their expressions a mix of unease and determination. Bheema gestured for the others to fan out, his eyes narrowed as he searched for any sign of movement.
Jagan, lagging slightly behind, felt a shiver run down his spine. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being hunted. He turned his head, his eyes scanning the dense foliage behind them, but saw nothing. Just shadows. He was about to move forward when he caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye—a flash of yellow and black.
“Did you see that?” Jagan whispered, his voice trembling.
“See what?” Bheema snapped, his patience wearing thin.
“There’s something out there. I think it’s the tiger,” Jagan replied, his voice barely audible.
Bheema glared at him, but before he could say anything, a low growl rumbled through the air, vibrating deep in their chests. It was a sound that sent a primal fear coursing through their veins, freezing them in place.
Ahanna heard it too, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to Raj, who had already raised his rifle, scanning the area for the source of the sound. The rangers moved forward, their eyes wide with alarm.
The bandits, now fully aware of the danger, tightened their grip on their weapons, their breaths coming in shallow gasps. Susanna emerged slowly from the undergrowth, her massive form materializing like a specter from the shadows. Her eyes locked onto the group, and she let out another growl, deeper and more menacing.
Bheema’s face paled as he took a step back, the reality of their situation sinking in. The tiger was here, and it was hunting them. He gestured for his men to hurry as they crossed the clearing—death was somewhere in the long grass.
With a sudden, terrifying roar, Susanna lunged forward. The bandits scattered in a frenzy of panic, firing wildly into the grass. The tigress rocketed forward like a steam train, her gaze fixed on Jagan. In the split second before she leaped, Raj moved. His hand was steady as he raised the tranquilizer gun, sighting the tiger.
The tigress sprang, a blur of fury. Raj squeezed the trigger. The dart flew through the air with a sharp hiss, striking the tigress in the flank. She let out a roar, more of surprise than pain, the turned mid-leap and bolted away from both groups like a flash of lightning, heading back to her cave.
“Is she hit?” one of the rangers asked, his voice trembling.
Raj nodded, exhaling a shaky breath.
“She won’t go far. That’s an elephant-sized dose,” Ahanna said. “It should slow her down."
Bheema and the bandits stood at one edge of the clearing, the rangers at the other. Bheema raised his rifle and wagged a finger—no words were needed. The message was clear: follow us, and you die. The rangers, outgunned with only handguns and tranquilizer rifles, held their ground. Raj gave a curt nod, an unspoken understanding passing between him and Bheema. Without another word, the bandits turned and melted into the shadows of the forest.
The rangers followed at a safe distance as the tigress retreated into the cave. By the time they reached the entrance, the tranquilizer had taken full effect. She lay there, breathing heavily, her eyes half-closed. In the dim light of the cave, they could make out smaller shapes huddled near her—cubs, barely old enough to be out of the den.
Ahanna motioned for the rangers to start documenting. They moved quietly, careful not to disturb the tigress and her cubs. Cameras clicked, capturing every detail. The tigress was a magnificent specimen, her coat a brilliant contrast of yellow and black stripes. One of the rangers crouched down, measuring the length of her paw prints, while another noted the markings that distinguished her from other tigers.
"She's a beauty," one of the rangers murmured, snapping photos of the cubs as they nuzzled closer to their sedated mother. "And those cubs... they're in good health."
Ahanna nodded, her eyes on the scene before her. "This is important. We need to tag the tigers and catalog everything. If we can track her and the cubs, it’ll help us protect them and keep the local population safe."
For the next hour, they worked methodically, photographing and cataloging the tigress and her offspring. They recorded every stripe pattern, every paw print, every sign that might help them identify her in the future. When they finished, Ahanna stood back, satisfied with their work.
"We should go," she said, glancing around nervously. "She won't be out for long, and we don't want to be here when she wakes up."
They backed away slowly, ensuring they left no trace of their presence. The sense of danger lingering even after they had retreated. They had one last task to complete. Carefully, they wrapped Deepak remains in a body bag, placed him on a folding stretcher and carried it back to town. As they made their way back, Raj glanced at Ahanna.
"Wow. That was intense," Raj muttered, shaking his head.
Ahanna gave him a smile. "It always is with tigers."
Back at the Onion House, Ahanna debriefed the rest of the team. "We found Deepak. He's dead. A tiger got to him, not Crybaby," she said, her voice steady. "We also ran into another group, but they’re gone now. As we suspected, there’s a band of armed outlaws nearby, also hunting Crybaby. The tiger scared them off, and I think the only reason we made it out was because we saved one of them. But they’re not interested in capturing Crybaby—they want it dead. Next time, they won’t show us any mercy."
She paused, glancing around the room.
"We're safe... for now."
END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN
NEXT CHAPTER: The Watchtower
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I like how there are two different groups with different motivations hunting after Crybaby. I wonder who will catch Crybaby first!