Deadly Games - Cate Noble [33]
Chapter Eleven
Thailand, Uncertain Location
October 4, Unknown Time
Madison Kohlmeyer pretended she was still out cold.
The whispers she heard confirmed someone was nearby. The ever-present nausea burned the back of her throat. She fought it by trying to think of other things.
So where was she now? Had they moved her again while she’d been passed out? The lack of the telltale foggy headache seemed to support the notion she had not been drugged again. But then her captors seemed to save the drugs for the longer trips, when she was transported in boxes or wrapped in rugs. And truthfully, having woken up in both those scenarios, she’d just as soon be heavily sedated.
In the beginning, she had welcomed the periods of drug-induced unconsciousness, the relief it brought her from the overwhelming fear. She’d been certain the stern-looking Asian men who’d forced her car off a deserted stretch of road in Virginia five days ago had been bent on killing her.
They’d pulled her from her car and shoved her to her knees before encircling her. There had been six of them and each one had kept his compact submachine gun pointed at her. They had shouted orders in what she thought was a Thai dialect, as if expecting her to understand. She hadn’t.
The guy with the light-colored snake slithering around his shoulders had leaned down and touched her hair. “Blond,” he’d said in perfect English.
She’d cringed, frightened of snakes, frightened of him and his friends. The man had laughed and pointed to his snake. “Blond.”
They’d bound her hands and ankles and stuffed her in the trunk of one of their vehicles, with the snake. They hadn’t bothered with a gag. She’d assumed because they’d wanted to hear her screams.
At some point, they had opened the trunk long enough to reclaim the snake and to sedate her.
When she’d next come to, she had been both bound and gagged, but had been lying atop a pile of coarse straw in what appeared to be a wooden box. After giving her another dose of whatever drug they were using, they had covered her with more straw. She’d listened as they’d nailed the lid in place.
A coffin.
They were going to bury her alive and leave her alone to die in the dark. Even as the thought had tried to take hold inside her, the drug’s power had pulled her down into a dark nothingness. But just before she’d succumbed, something had moved in the straw beside her.
The snake? A rat? Or just her mind serving up one more nightmare?
She later realized the coffin had actually been a shipping crate. She’d recalled sounds, loud engines, like planes taking off. When they’d next opened the crate it had been to give her water and food. Evidently they weren’t looking to kill her. At least not right away.
The gag had been left off after that and for what turned out to be a very long and uncomfortable trip. The realization that they had taken her out of the United States had been terrifying. She thought she’d been kidnapped for some sex-slavery ring.
A drinking straw was poked between her lips at periodic intervals. She drank—even after she figured out the water was laced with drugs.
She’d woken up in this warehouse yesterday. The three men watching her now were different from the ones who had abducted her. First thing, they’d cut away her clothes and taken photographs. Then they’d dumped buckets of cold water on her, to clean her and revive her.
One of the men had given her an oversized plaid shirt to wear. She had instinctively turned away, seeking a modicum of privacy while getting dressed, only to have the shirt snatched away.
She had begged for its return, finally breaking down into hysterical sobs. While language continued to be a barrier, her captors communicated with hand signals, facial expressions, body gestures, and pain. They had openly mocked her by rubbing their fists in their eyes while shouting, “Wah! Wah!”
Then the men had circled her. She hadn’t been raped or sexually assaulted, but she feared that was about to change.
Instead the men had pinched and slapped her. Bullied her. She’d been dragged