Crybaby - Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve 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 12
The Watchtower
Rahul stood back, hands on his hips, contemplating his new watchtower as the ranger, Ahanna, and policeman Raj arrived in the land cruiser. Workers from the quarry swarmed around the tower, using a rope-and-pulley system to hoist provisions to the top platform. The tower itself was a sturdy, tall structure made from scaffolding poles, with a ladder running up the middle and planks across the tarpaulin-covered top. Rising above the trees, it offered an excellent view of the forest and surrounding areas—from the village to the quarry, across the mountains on one side, and the valley down to the river on the other. The 360-degree view from the top also provided a glimpse of the temple on the mist-shrouded mountain and the old abandoned hilltop fort, now secretly used by Rahul’s bandit gang in his other, shady occupation apart from village mayor.
Though he couldn’t see as far as the distant town or wetlands, and the roads were obscured by trees, nothing as large as the rogue killer elephant could enter the village without him spotting it. More importantly, he would have clear shots at the beast if it came within range. If the plan went accordingly and the elephant could be driven toward the village, he’d even have some nasty surprises ready for it. His men from the quarry had smuggled out enough explosives to make sure of that.
Rahul knew about yesterday’s events near the quarry—the ranger's run-in with his men and the tiger—but he composed himself, ready to hear it again as if for the first time. He cast a quick glance at the workers to ensure the concealed, more lethal supplies intended for the rogue elephant, Crybaby, were well hidden. Then he turned to greet the ranger and her companion.
“Good morning, Mr. Mayor.” They all shook hands.
“I’m afraid we have some bad news regarding another villager. Deepak—do you know him?”
“Yes, I know Deepak. What is he involved in now?” Rahul asked, feigning surprise.
“He’s dead, killed by a tiger near the quarry. We think he was part of a group hunting for Crybaby during the rain.”
“A tiger near the quarry? You mean Susanna? So it wasn’t just a rumor.” Rahul moved the conversation on from the mysterious group of men also hunting the rogue elephant, his men.
“No, but the good news is that we managed to stun and tag her, along with her cubs. If she comes near the village, we’ll know about it. Once this situation with Crybaby is over, some tiger experts will decide if she can be relocated. But don’t worry, the village is safe—from Susanna, at least."
Rahul’s eyes narrowed slightly as he absorbed the news, though his outward expression remained calm. Another villager gone, and one of his men too. Deepak hadn’t been a close friend or even a decent bandit, but his death could stir up trouble. People would start talking, worrying, and worry led to panic, which wouldn’t be good for the village—or Rahul’s plans. He couldn’t afford distractions now.
He glanced up at the tower, his pride and joy. It was more than just a watchtower; it was a symbol of his power and control over the village and its lands. The sturdy poles, the planks, the tarpaulin—all had been meticulously planned. It was a fortress in its own right, offering him a commanding view of everything. Every villager, every movement, and soon, Crybaby. The elephant had terrorized the region long enough, and when Rahul finally brought it down, he would be hailed as a hero. No one would know he’d been the leader of the local gang of bandits —only the mayor who saved them from the monster.
But the tiger—Susanna—was an unexpected complication. A tagged tiger might keep the villagers on edge, distracting them from Crybaby. Rahul found that useful; as long as everyone was focused elsewhere, he could kill the elephant without interference.
“Stunning and tagging Susanna... that’s quite the feat,” Rahul said, masking his thoughts with an appreciative smile. “I didn’t realize the forest department acted that quickly. You’ve been busy.”
Ahanna nodded. “It wasn’t easy, Mr. Mayor. She put up quite a fight, but Raj managed to shoot her with a tranquilizer dart just as she was about to attack the other group of men. It’s too dangerous for the villagers, especially with everything else going on.”
“Indeed,” Rahul replied, though his mind was already racing. Dangerous, yes—but manageable. Susanna’s presence might even be helpful. If the villagers were more afraid of the tiger than the elephant, he could manipulate that fear, channel it where needed.
Raj, the policeman, cleared his throat awkwardly. “The villagers are asking questions, sir. About Crybaby, about the tiger. They’re scared. They want to know when it’ll all end.”
Rahul folded his arms, letting out a thoughtful hum. “And they should be. Fear keeps people vigilant; it will keep them safe.” He let the words hang for a moment, watching as Raj and Ahanna exchanged uneasy glances. They weren’t just here to discuss the elephant and tiger—they were here to gauge his reactions, to see how much he knew about the other group of men. It was clear to them that he held the villagers in his grip; they could tell from the sheer number of workers he’d pulled from the quarry to build his tower.
“But rest assured,” Rahul continued, “the end is near. Once Crybaby is dealt with, everything will return to normal.”
Ahanna frowned. "How do you plan to deal with Crybaby? We haven't been able to track him, and bringing down an elephant of that size without serious consequences is no simple task. Once our trained elephants arrive, we can track him with drones and attempt to tranquilize him, but until then, we have no idea where he is or when he'll strike again."
Rahul’s smile widened, conveying just enough confidence without arrogance. He turned and gestured at his construction, “That’s why I built this tower, Ranger Ahanna. With a view like this, nothing escapes me. When Crybaby comes, I’ll sound the alarm. Trust me.”
Ahanna studied him for a moment, her sharp gaze searching for any sign of deception. Rahul held her stare, unwavering, until she finally nodded. “Just make sure you keep us informed. We can’t afford any... mishaps. You know the law as well as I do—Crybaby must be captured alive. We’re not here to exterminate it with guns or bombs.”
The mention of explosives made Rahul's pulse quicken, though he betrayed no outward reaction. He had been meticulous, operating in the shadows. His men had quietly smuggled enough explosive material from the nearby quarry to guarantee that Crybaby wouldn’t stand a chance. If the elephant came within range of the tower, he’d blow it to smithereens and deal with the fallout later. But no one needed to know the full scope of his plans. Not yet.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Safety is my top priority.”
Ahanna didn’t look entirely convinced, but there was little she could do. The watchtower loomed over them, a testament to Rahul’s influence. It wouldn’t be long now. All he had to do was wait, and soon everything would fall into place.
“I’ll leave you to your preparations, then,” Ahanna said, her tone professional but tinged with caution. “Just... be careful, Mr. Mayor. These animals are unpredictable.”
"As am I," Rahul thought, but he merely smiled and waved as she and Raj turned to leave. Once they had driven off in the land cruiser and were out of sight, his expression hardened, and he quickly ascended the tower. At the top, the wind whipped around him, the mist still clinging to the distant temple and fort.
From here, he could see everything.
Later that afternoon, the sun began to set over the dense jungle, casting long shadows across the highway winding through the wilderness. A warm breeze rustled the tall roadside grasses, carrying the scent of damp earth and the hum of insects. Traffic remained heavy, with mopeds, cars, and the occasional truck. One battered old truck rumbled along, piled high with sugarcane, its rear tires struggling to bear the weight on the uneven, patchy road. The driver, Prakash, wiped sweat from his brow and glanced at his companion, Sanjay, fast asleep in the passenger seat.
“We’ll stop at the next station for tea,” Prakash muttered to himself. The journey had been long, and the endless stretch of road was wearing him down. His thoughts wandered as the truck’s engine groaned, climbing a small hill. The sugarcane made the vehicle sluggish, its wheels protesting every bump. The distant sounds of jungle life began to fade, replaced by an eerie silence. Prakash’s eyes darted to the trees lining the highway, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Something felt off.
Suddenly, a massive form stepped out of the rainforest directly in front of the truck. There was no warning; one second it wasn’t there, and the next, it was. Prakash's heart skipped a beat. Before he could react, the truck lurched violently as something slammed into its side with incredible force.
“Wake up!” Prakash shouted, jerking the wheel, trying to veer away from whatever had hit them, but the truck was stopped, dead. Sanjay bolted upright, eyes wide with confusion.
“What’s going on?” he yelled over the grinding noise of metal against metal.
Prakash stared in disbelief at the rearview mirror. Towering above the truck like an ancient beast was Crybaby—the infamous rogue elephant. His tusks gleamed in the fading light, and his furious eyes locked onto the sugarcane-loaded truck. Crybaby’s massive trunk snaked forward, tearing through the wooden planks covering the truck’s cargo as if they were made of balsa wood.
“Drive, drive!” Sanjay shouted, but Prakash was frozen, his mind racing. He had heard the stories of Crybaby—an elephant that had terrorized the region for weeks, destroying a police station, a post office, and killing tourists, villagers, and even other elephants. But he had never imagined the beast would be this enormous, this unstoppable.
Crybaby lifted a bundle of sugarcane effortlessly with his trunk and tossed it to the ground, trumpeting angrily. The deafening roar echoed through the trees, shaking the truck with its force.
Prakash finally snapped into action, shifting the gear into reverse, but it was too late. Crybaby turned his attention to the cab, his powerful trunk curling around the truck’s front grille. With a terrifying roar, the elephant pulled, metal screeching as the front end of the truck bent under the strain.
“Get out! Get out!” Sanjay screamed, fumbling with the door handle and throwing it open. Prakash followed, scrambling out the driver’s side as Crybaby lifted the front half of the truck off the ground. The men stumbled backward, tripping over each other in their desperation to escape. They barely made it a few meters before the truck crashed back onto the road with a bone-rattling thud, its windshield shattering on impact.
From a safe distance, Prakash and Sanjay watched as Crybaby ravaged the sugarcane load, devouring it in massive bites while demolishing the truck in the process. The horn blared continuously, jammed by the damage.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!
Panting hard, Sanjay turned to Prakash. “What do we do? We can’t just stand here!”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Prakash replied, his voice trembling. "It’s a fucking elephant, man!"
Crybaby, oblivious to the two men, swung his trunk again, tossing the remaining sugarcane onto the road. His aggression grew with each passing moment.
With one final thunderous bellow, Crybaby turned his massive head toward the jungle. His ears flared, and for a brief moment, his fierce gaze landed on the two men. Prakash and Sanjay stood frozen, hearts hammering, bracing for the worst. Crybaby flapped his ears, fury burning in his dark red eyes.
But then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Crybaby scooped up a bundle of sugarcane and lumbered back into the trees, his enormous form vanishing into the dense undergrowth. Slowly, the sounds of the jungle returned, as if nature had been holding its breath during the rampage.
Other vehicles had come to a stop, their drivers watching the destruction in fear. Most of the mopeds had immediately turned and sped off in the opposite direction the moment they saw the massive elephant tearing apart the old truck. Now, they were returning. The road was busy once more, as if nothing had happened, with trucks, cars, and motorcycles weaving around the wreckage.
Prakash let out a shaky sigh of relief. The truck was destroyed, sugarcane scattered across the road, but they were alive. He turned to Sanjay, still trembling.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, man.”
Rahul stood atop the newly constructed watchtower, the warm evening breeze ruffling his hair as he surveyed the land below. The view was breathtaking—a panoramic sweep of forest, mountains, and valleys. But Rahul wasn’t admiring the scenery. His sharp, focused eyes scanned the tree line and dusty roads with one purpose: to spot the rogue elephant, Crybaby.
The sturdy tower swayed gently in the wind, the scaffolding poles creaking under the strain of its height. From this vantage point, Rahul could see everything—his village nestled safely in the valley, the distant quarry where his men still toiled, and beyond that, the thick rainforest jungle that felt like a frontier between safety and destruction. Somewhere in that vast expanse, Crybaby lurked, a beast of unimaginable power, wreaking havoc across the region.
Rahul adjusted the binoculars hanging from his neck and lifted them to his eyes, methodically sweeping the forest’s edge for any movement. The tower offered an excellent view, but the dense canopy below made spotting anything difficult. He cursed under his breath. Crybaby was intelligent, like Rahul, old and cunning, and that made him dangerous. The elephant knew how to stay hidden in the rainforest until the moment he chose to strike.
Behind him, two of his men organized supplies. Rahul had stocked the watchtower with enough provisions for days—water, food, ammunition and explosives. Hidden under tarps and crates at the tower’s peak, the smuggled dynamite was carefully stored and concealed.
He glanced over the valley. The village below was quiet, the smoke from cooking fires rising lazily into the sky. It looked peaceful from up here, a world apart from the chaos and death Crybaby had brought to their lives. But Rahul knew better. Fear gripped the villagers. They whispered about the elephant as if it were a myth, a monster that couldn’t be stopped.
Rahul’s jaw tightened. Not while I’m here.
As bandit leader, Rahul had learned to survive in the wild, outwit enemies far more cunning than the local authorities. That was a secret few knew, as he was also the village mayor, a leader sworn to protect his people. Crybaby had wrecked the village, tearing down two buildings and killing Rahul’s brother, Nisheed. Now, the elephant was a personal challenge, a symbol of the wild forces he sought to control.
“Ravi!” Rahul called to one of his men below.
“Yes, sir?” came the reply.
“Get up here.”
When Ravi reached the top, Rahul gave him orders. Like many of the village quarry workers, Ravi was also part of Rahul’s secret bandit gang.
“Make sure the rangers aren’t sniffing around, then start preparing your own explosives. Do it in the old coffee house.”
Ravi gave a quick nod and climbed back down. Rahul’s gaze returned to the horizon, his mind working through the possibilities. The watchtower offered a tactical advantage, but Crybaby was a creature of brute strength. If it came to a confrontation, Rahul would need more than just a high vantage point. His plan was simple: his men would drive the elephant toward the village again. Rahul would be waiting in the tower, ready to either drop a bomb on Crybaby if it came close enough, or shoot it in the head if he got a clear shot as it crossed the fields.
He walked over to a crate in the corner and flipped open the lid. Inside, nestled beneath a tarp, were the explosives. He had secured them for this exact situation. The next time Crybaby showed up, he would blow the rampaging, killer elephant to kingdom come.
The rope-and-pulley system creaked as supplies were hoisted to the top of the tower. The quarry workers had done a fine job constructing this outpost, he gripped one of the sturdy scaffolding posts and gave it a shake. Solid as a rock.
The day was done. Shadows grew long across the landscape, stretching like dark fingers over the forest. Rahul drummed his fingers against the pole as he waited for some sign—any sign—that the rogue elephant was near.
His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with the ranger, Ahanna, earlier that day. She had warned him that Crybaby wasn’t just an angry elephant; he was something far more dangerous—a creature pushed beyond reason, driven by rage and pain. Rahul understood that better than anyone. The rogue elephant reminded him of his younger self: wild, untamed, unpredictable. But that life was behind him now. He was a big shot, with a stash of gold hidden in the hillside fort, enough to leave this place for somewhere more luxurious, a beach where he could spend his last years. He felt he’d earned it.
And he wasn’t going to let a rampaging beast take that away.
The last of the supplies were brought up and put away. Rahul settled in for the evening. This would be his first night alone in the tower. He wasn’t expecting a visit from Crybaby tonight, and he had already resigned himself to spending a few nights up here before killing the elephant. But he knew, with certainty, that he’d see the killer elephant again in the next few days. Crybaby didn’t know anywhere else. They always returned to the places they knew best.
Sooner or later, they always came back.
END OF CHAPTER TWELVE
NEXT CHAPTER: Bheema and Jagan
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