Crybaby - Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen of the blockbuster new novel, Crybaby by best selling, multi-award-winning author Mark Watson...
CRYBABY
©Copyright 2024 by Mark Watson
CHAPTER 14
Distractions
Ahanna stood at the edge of the forest, the thick scent of damp earth and decaying leaves surrounding her as she gazed out toward the village. The sun was sinking below the horizon, casting long shadows over the landscape. The village itself was still in the throes of festival preparations, lanterns flickering in the dusk and the hum of life echoing faintly through the trees.
She pulled her green, ranger’s jacket tighter against the evening chill and turned her focus to Raj, who was leaning against the hood of the land cruiser, watching her with a thoughtful expression. His police uniform was disheveled, the collar askew and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as though he had been too busy—or too tired—to bother with proper formality today.
Ahanna had been working alongside Raj for the past few weeks, ever since the escalating threat of Crybaby had drawn the ranger unit deeper into the village’s affairs. But there was something more than just the rogue elephant that was troubling her, and she knew she had to confront it now, before things spiraled any further out of control.
Raj lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag before speaking. "The villagers seem determined to push through with the festival. You think that’s wise, with Crybaby still out there?"
Ahanna shook her head, crossing her arms. "Wise? No. But the festival’s a tradition, something that ties them together. It gives them something to do and keeps them off our back. It’s a distraction."
Raj blew out a thin stream of smoke, his brow furrowing. "How can we celebrate at a time like this, so much death."
Ahanna sighed, her eyes flicking back toward the village. "That's what I'm worried about. This whole situation feels off. We’re preparing to defend the village, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more going on than just Crybaby terrorizing the forest."
Raj raised an eyebrow, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "More? What are you thinking?"
Ahanna hesitated for a moment, her mind racing through the recent events—the strange looks from some of the villagers, the whispered conversations, and most of all, Rahul’s sudden obsession with building the watchtower and preparing defenses. Something wasn’t adding up.
"Rahul’s been acting strange," she said finally. "He’s too prepared. Too... calm, given the situation. Almost like he knows more than he’s letting on."
Raj’s eyes narrowed as he regarded her. "You think Rahul has something to do with the other group? That’s a pretty serious accusation, Ahanna. He’s the mayor now."
"We’ve got reports of other men in the jungle—armed men—hunting Crybaby. Men who aren’t from the village. They’re organized, moving quietly, and avoiding detection. They’re bandits Raj, we’ve seen them, let’s stop pretending they are something else"
Raj stubbed out his cigarette on the ground and straightened up, crossing his arms as he faced her. "You think Rahul’s a bandit?"
"I think he’s hiding something," Ahanna replied, her voice steady. "Maybe it’s not him directly, but someone he knows. Someone connected to those men in the jungle. It’s too much of a coincidence that these fuckers show up right when Crybaby’s at his most dangerous. They’re not hunters, or poachers—they’re after something. And I can’t shake the feeling that it’s connected to Rahul."
Raj sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’ve known him for years now. He’s devoted to the village, and he wants to protect it. If he knew about these bandits, he would have told us."
Ahanna’s gaze hardened. "Would he, though? What if he’s stuck in the middle of something he can’t control? What if he’s trying to protect the village while keeping something else off the radar? You’ve seen how he’s handling this. He’s focused on defense, not escape. Like he’s preparing for a specific threat."
Raj opened his mouth to respond but paused, considering her words. "So, you’re saying you think Rahul’s connected to the bandits, but he’s trying to manage it quietly? Keep the village out of whatever mess he’s gotten himself into?"
"Maybe," Ahanna said softly, her eyes still locked on the darkening horizon. "Or maybe he’s being blackmailed, or forced to help them in exchange for the village’s safety. I don’t know for sure. But I do know that something’s off. Rahul’s building that watchtower and when he clicks his fingers half the village, half of the men who work in the quarry drop everything and do what he tells them."
Raj frowned, shifting his weight. "If what you’re saying is true, that complicates things. We can’t afford to have the mayor working against us, or even hiding things from us. If there’s a group of bandits out there, and they’re after Crybaby—or something else—we need to know."
Ahanna nodded, her tone urgent. "Exactly. And if Rahul’s involved, even tangentially, we need to figure it out before this escalates. The festival is coming, and the village is vulnerable. If Crybaby doesn’t show up, maybe these men will."
Raj exhaled slowly, the tension in his posture evident. "I don’t want to believe Rahul’s involved. But you’re right—there’s too much at stake to ignore the possibility."
Ahanna took a step closer, her voice low and serious. "We need to start asking questions. Quietly. Watch the men who work closely with Rahul, especially those he trusts. If there’s any sign that they’re connected to this other group, we’ll know. But we have to be discreet. If Rahul suspects we’re onto him, he might go to ground. And if the bandits catch wind that we’re looking for them, things could get ugly fast."
Raj met her gaze, his expression grim. "I’ll start digging. Discreetly. But let’s not jump to conclusions. Rahul’s a good man now, or at least he’s trying to be. If he’s in over his head, we’ll give him the chance to come clean. But if there’s more to this... we’ll deal with it."
Ahanna nodded, her expression hardening. "Good. But we need to be ready for anything. If these men are hunting Crybaby, they’re dangerous. And they won’t hesitate to take what they want, even if it means going through us."
The two of them stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of the jungle creeping in around them as the last of the sunlight disappeared behind the mountains. Ahanna’s mind was racing, she didn’t want to believe that Rahul could be tied to the bandits, but her instinct was too strong to ignore. And if she was right, the village was in more danger than any of them realized.
Raj pushed off from the jeep, giving her a nod. "I’ll handle it. Keep an eye on Rahul. If there’s anything to find, we’ll find it."
Ahanna watched as Raj turned and walked into the village. She stood there for a few moments after he left, her heart heavy with the weight of suspicion. The village might have been preparing for a festival, but something darker was brewing in the shadows. And as much as she hoped Raj was right—that Rahul was innocent—Ahanna knew she couldn’t afford to take that chance.
She turned back toward the village, her eyes narrowing as she made her way through the forest. If there was a connection between Rahul and the bandits, she would find it. And if Crybaby wasn’t the only threat lurking in the jungle, she would be ready.
The old hilltop fort was a labyrinth of crumbling stone walls and darkened alcoves. Its vast corridors, once filled with the clamor of soldiers long forgotten, now served as the secret den for Rahul’s men. Tonight, the air was still, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the open gaps in the stone. But deep within the fort, hidden among the shadows, something far more dangerous than wind was stirring.
Manu, one of Rahul’s younger recruits, had been sent to the fort to check on provisions. It was a dull task, something his senior, Bheema, had ordered him to do. Not one to question authority, Manu had gone without complaint, trudging through the dark corridors toward the store rooms. His boots clicked softly against the stone floor, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the village festival preparations and the looming threat of Crybaby.
He was about to enter the storage chamber when he heard the unmistakable sound of hushed voices coming from the adjacent room. He stopped, his ears pricking up, curiosity getting the better of him. The door to the chamber was slightly ajar, and the light of a flickering lantern spilled into the hallway. Manu edged closer, his heart beginning to race as he recognized the low, gravelly tone of Bheema’s voice.
“…we take the gold tonight,” Bheema was saying, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.
Manu’s breath caught in his throat. He froze, pressing himself against the cold stone wall, listening intently.
“And what about the others?” That was Jagan’s voice—sharp and eager. “We can’t risk anyone seeing us. If Rahul finds out… fuck!”
Manu’s pulse quickened. The gold. They were talking about the stash. Only the trusted men like Bheema and Jagan were privy to its location.
Bheema grunted softly, as though considering Jagan’s question. “They won’t see us. We’ll go after midnight, once everyone’s either asleep or out on watch. Rahul’s too distracted with the whole Crybaby mess and his new watchtower. He won’t notice we’re gone until it’s too late.”
Manu’s eyes widened. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Bheema, one of Rahul’s most loyal men, and Jagan—both planning to steal the gold and disappear. It was unthinkable. Treachery like this didn’t just end with a slap on the wrist. This was betrayal at its most dangerous, and if Rahul found out, they were dead men.
Jagan spoke again, his voice a bit more eager now. “Once we’ve got the gold, we head for the mountains. There’s a smuggler I know—he’ll get us across the border. We’ll be long gone before Rahul or any of his men even realize we’ve disappeared.”
“And if anyone gets in our way?” Bheema asked, his tone low and dangerous.
Jagan’s answer came quick and cold. “We do what we have to.”
Manu’s breath hitched. He knew he couldn’t stay any longer. If Bheema or Jagan found him eavesdropping, they wouldn’t hesitate to silence him. And after what he’d just heard, silence meant death.
Carefully, he edged away from the door, keeping his footsteps as light as possible. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved down the hallway, keeping to the shadows. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of wind through the gaps in the fort’s stone walls made him flinch, fearing the men inside might hear him. But luck was on his side. The conversation continued, their whispers growing fainter as he moved further away.
Once he was sure he was out of earshot, Manu bolted. He sprinted through the winding corridors of the fort, taking familiar shortcuts as his mind raced just as fast as his feet. The fort felt like a maze, but Manu knew every hidden passageway, every twist and turn.
He burst through the entrance to the fort, his lungs burning from the effort. The cold night air hit him hard, but he barely noticed. His focus was singular now. He had to reach Rahul. There wasn’t a moment to lose.
The village was a good distance through the forest, and Manu didn’t slow down, his boots pounding against the dirt path. His mind whirled with the implications of what he’d overheard. Bheema and Jagan—two of Rahul’s most trusted men—plotting to steal the gold, to betray the boss.
Rahul had enemies, that much was clear. But treachery from within his own ranks? It would devastate him. And if Bheema and Jagan succeeded they’d be robbing all of them of their own shares of the gold.
By the time Manu reached the watchtower, his chest was heaving, his legs trembling with exhaustion. The tall, imposing structure loomed above him, its silhouette outlined against the dark sky. Workers still moved around the base, making final adjustments to the ropes and pulleys, but Manu ignored them, his eyes scanning the area for Rahul.
He found him standing at the edge of the clearing, speaking quietly with a few of the senior men. Manu ran up to him, doubling over to catch his breath as he reached his side.
Rahul turned, surprised to see Manu in such a state. “Manu? What’s going on?”
“Rahul—sir,” Manu gasped, struggling to get the words out between ragged breaths. “It’s Bheema... and Jagan. They’re planning to steal the gold. Tonight.”
Rahul’s face went from surprise to hard, cold focus in an instant. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard them boss,” Manu panted, straightening up now that he had caught his breath. “They’re planning to take the stash—everything hidden beneath the fort. They’re going to run, leave us behind. They’ve been talking to smugglers.”
Rahul stood still for a moment, absorbing the news. Some of the other men had stopped working and were attempting to listen in, Rahul waved them away and pulled Manu close, grabbing him by the collar with both hands.
“Bheema and Jagan?” Rahul whispered, his voice low, dangerous. His disbelief was palpable. “My men? My most trusted men?”
Manu nodded, his face pale. “I heard them myself. They’re leaving tonight, after midnight. They think you’re too distracted with Crybaby to notice.”
Rahul’s hands tightened into fists, his knuckles white. His face was a storm of fury and betrayal, a man who had been wronged by those he had trusted the most. This was no small offense. Betrayal in their world wasn’t just a crime—it was a death sentence.
Rahul’s voice, when it finally came, was cold and controlled. “You did the right thing, Manu. Don’t mention this to anyone else yet, help these guys. I need to think this over.”
As Manu watched Rahul turn away, his mind still spinning from everything that had just happened, he couldn’t help but feel a knot of fear in his stomach. He had done the right thing, yes—but what came next would be far from easy.
Rahul was not a man to take betrayal lightly.
The night hung heavy, the sky a canvas of black with only a smattering of stars to break the darkness. The village was quieter now, with most of the festival preparations done for the day, but there was an undercurrent of tension that lingered.
Rahul stood at the base of the watchtower, the structure looming high above him, its platform nearly invisible against the starless sky. His mind churned with the weight of two threats—Crybaby, and now, the treachery of his most trusted men, Bheema and Jagan. His thoughts were cold, calculating. There was no room for sentiment in what he had to do next.
Around him, his men gathered, each one ready for orders. Among them was Manu, still visibly shaken from the secret he had overheard earlier that evening. Rahul had trusted Manu’s account without question. He knew the young man had no reason to lie. Bheema and Jagan thought they could steal from him, betray him, and slip away into the night.
They were wrong.
“Listen carefully,” Rahul began, his voice low but commanding. The men leaned in closer, their faces lit by the soft glow of lanterns scattered around the base of the tower. “We’ve got to focus on Crybaby. He’s out there, and we don’t know when he’ll strike. We need eyes on the jungle at all times.”
The men nodded.
Rahul continued, his gaze shifting to the towering structure above. “I’m putting four of you on the tower tonight. Two will stay up top for the first shift, and two will relieve them at midnight.”
He pointed to two of his most reliable men, Sunil and Praveen. “You two, take the first watch. Keep your eyes peeled. Even if it’s just a rustle in the trees. Don’t take any chances.”
Sunil and Praveen nodded and quickly began ascending the ladder, their weapons slung across their backs. They were seasoned men, experienced enough to know the importance of vigilance in these situations. Rahul watched them climb, their silhouettes disappearing into the darkness as they reached the platform high above.
Turning his attention back to the remaining men, Rahul’s face hardened.
“While the others are on watch,” Rahul said, his voice growing colder, “I have something else to handle. Manu overheard something tonight—something that concerns all of us. Bheema and Jagan have turned traitor. They’re planning to steal from us and disappear into the night with our gold.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from the men around him, eyes widening with disbelief. Bheema and Jagan were veterans, pillars among Rahul’s crew. The idea that they would turn against him was a shock that rippled through the group like a wave of unease.
“I know it’s hard to believe,” Rahul went on, his expression grim, “but Manu heard it himself. They’re planning to leave after midnight. If I don’t stop them, they’ll take everything we’ve worked for and vanish.”
The men murmured among themselves, anger and confusion swirling in equal measure. For men like them, loyalty was the highest currency. Betrayal was more than a crime—it was an unforgivable sin.
Rahul raised a hand to quiet them. “I’m going to deal with them. Personally. But I need a few of you to come with me.” His gaze swept across the group. “This has to be handled quietly. No one outside this circle can know about it until it’s done.”
Three men stepped forward—Manu, still nervous but determined, and two others, old veterans who had stood by Rahul’s side through thick and thin. They were hardened by years of loyalty and would do whatever was necessary to protect what was theirs.
“Good,” Rahul said, giving them a sharp nod. “The rest of you stay here and keep the watchtower secure. We can’t afford any distractions while we’re dealing with this.”
With that, Rahul motioned for his small group to follow him. They moved quietly through the trees, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot the only sound as they made their way toward the fort. The night seemed to grow heavier around them, the air thick with the tension of what was to come.
As they approached the fort’s entrance, Rahul slowed his pace, his eyes scanning the darkened windows. The fort had once been a stronghold, a place of power for his old bandit gang, but now it felt like a mausoleum—cold, empty, and filled with the ghosts of past sins.
Rahul motioned for the men to spread out as they entered the fort, their footsteps barely audible against the worn stone floor. The hallways were dimly lit by scattered lanterns, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with every flicker of the flames. Somewhere deep within the fort, Bheema and Jagan were preparing to make their move—unaware that they were walking into their own trap.
Rahul’s jaw clenched as he led the way, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife. Bheema had been with him for years. Jagan too. They had fought side by side, bled for each other. And now, they had chosen greed over loyalty.
A whisper from Manu brought him to a halt. “They’re in the storeroom. I heard them there before.”
Rahul nodded, his heart a cold, steady beat in his chest…
“Let’s finish this.”
END OF CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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