She scowled in disbelief, looking sternly at the chief. “He is not dead. He is alive and breathing… right there! What is he saying?”
The old man sighed as if he had seen the same scene one too many times in his life.
“Kalihasa. He tells man under he hand to die in he name.”
The other man next to Sam started convulsing, yet the raging onlookers did not take one step forward to help their fellow. Nina shook Sam violently, but the chief pulled her away in alarm.
“What?” she shouted at him. “I will stop this! Let me go!”
“Dead gods talking. You must listen,” he warned.
“Are you all out of your minds?” she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. “Sam!” Nina was terrified, yet she kept reminding herself that it was Sam – her Sam and that she had to keep him from killing the native. The chief held her by the wrist to stop her from interfering. His grip was unnaturally strong for such a frail-looking old man.
In the sand in front of Sam, the native man screamed in agony as Sam kept repeating his iniquitous chant. Blood trickled from Sam's nose and dripped on his chest and thighs, prompting the villagers to voice a chorus of terror. Women wept, and children screamed, upsetting Nina to tears. Shaking her head profusely, the Scottish historian let out a hysterical scream, gathering her strength. She bolted forward with all her strength, breaking the hold of the chief's grasp.
With fury and fear, Nina raced towards Sam with her water bottle in her hand, trailed by three villagers sent to stop her. But she was too fast. When she reached Sam, she poured the water onto his face and head. Her shoulder dislocated as the village men tackled her, their momentum proving too strong for her small frame.
Sam's eyes closed under the drops of water running down his forehead. His chanting ceased instantly, and the native in front of him was delivered from his anguish. Exhausted and crying he rolled in the sand, crying out to his gods in thanked them for their mercy.
“Get off me!” Nina screamed, using her good arm to wallop one of the men. He slapped her hard across the face, sending her down on the sand.
“Take your evil prophet away from here!” Nina's attacker roared in a heavy accent, holding his fist up, but the chief stopped him from committing more violence. The other men got up from the ground at his command and left Nina and Sam alone, but not before spitting on the intruders as they passed.
“Sam? Sam!” Nina screamed. Her voice quivered in shock and rage as she held his face in her hands. Painfully she pressed her injured arm to her chest as she tried to pull a dazed Sam up to his feet. “Jesus Christ, Sam! Get up!”
For the first time, Sam blinked. He frowned as confusion overtook him.
“Nina?” he groaned. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Listen, just get the fuck up and let's go before these people barbecue our pale asses for dinner, okay?” she said under her breath. “Please. Please, Sam!”
He looked up at his beautiful friend. She appeared to be rattled.
“What's that bruise on your face? Nina. Hey! Did someone…” he realized that they were in the middle of a rapidly growing crowd, “…did someone hit you?”
“Don’t get all macho now. Let’s just get the fuck out of here. Now,” she whispered with firm urgency.
“Alright, alright,” he slurred, still thoroughly dazed. His eyes swam from side to side as he surveyed the spitting onlookers who were barking insults and motioned him and Nina away. “Christ, what is their problem?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll explain everything if we get out of here alive,” Nina panted in agony and panic as she dragged Sam’s unsteady body with her toward the top of the hill.
They moved as fast as they could, but Nina’s injury kept her from running.
“I can’t, Sam. You go ahead,” she cried.
“Absolutely not. Let me help you,” he replied, fumbling clumsily at her stomach.
“What are you doing?” she frowned.
“Trying to put my arm around your waist to that I can pull you along, love,” he huffed.
“You are not even close. I am right here in plain sight,” she moaned, but then something occurred to her. Waving an open hand in front of Sam’s face, Nina noticed that he did follow the movement. “Sam? Can you see?”
He blinked rapidly and looked frustrated. “Not much. I see you, but it's hard to tell distances. My depth perception is fucked, Nina.”
“Okay, okay, let's just get back to the holiday resort. Once we are safe in the room we can figure out what the hell happened to you,” she suggested sympathetically. Nina took Sam's hand and navigated for the both of them all the way back to the hotel. Amidst stares from guests and staff, Nina and Sam hurried to their room. When they got inside, she locked the door.
“Go lie down, Sam,” she said.
“Not until we get you a doctor for that nasty bruise,” he protested.
“How can you see the bruise on my face, then?” she inquired as she looked up a number in the hotel's phone directory.
“I can see you, Nina,” he sighed. “I just cannot tell how far things are away from me. I have to admit this is far more annoying than not being able to see if you can believe that.”
“Oh yeah. Of course,” she answered as she punched in the number for a taxi service. She booked a car to the nearest emergency room. “Take a quick shower, Sam. We have to figure out if your vision is damaged permanently -right after they pop this back into the rotator cuff, that is.”
“Your shoulder is out of the socket?” Sam asked.
“Aye,” she replied. “Came out when they tackled me to keep me away from you.”
“Why? What were you going to do that they wanted to protect me from you?” he half-smiled in amusement, but he could tell Nina was keeping the details from him.
“I was just going to wake you up, and they did not seem to want me to, that’s all,” she shrugged.
“That is what I want to know. Was I asleep? Was I out cold?” he asked sincerely, shifting to face her.
“I don’t know, Sam,” she said unconvincingly.
“Nina,” he tried to pry.
“You have less than,” she looked at the bedside clock, “twenty minutes to shower and get ready for our taxi.”
“Okay,” Sam yielded as he got up to get to the shower, slowly groping his way along the edge of the bed and the table. “But this is not over. When we come back, you are telling me everything, including whatever you are hiding from me.”
At the hospital, the on-duty medical professionals took care of Nina's shoulder.
“Do you want something to bite on?” the sharp-looking Indonesian doctor asked. He reminded Nina of one of those promising young hipster Hollywood directors with his dark-skinned features and wisecracking personality.
“Your nurse, perhaps?” Sam chipped in, leaving the unsuspecting nurse stunned.
“Ignore him. He can't help it,” Nina winked at the surprised nurse who was scarcely halfway through her twenties. With effort, the girl forced a smile, darting an uncertain eye towards the handsome man who had come to the ER with Nina. “And I only bite men.”
“Good to know,” the charming doctor smiled. “How did you do this? And don’t say you did heavy lifting.”
“I fell during a hike,” Nina replied without flinching.
“Okay, here we go. Ready?” the doctor asked.
“No,” she whined for a split second before the doctor pulled her arm with a powerful hold that sent her muscles into a cramp. Nina screamed in agony at the burning ligaments and stretched muscle fibers that sent a devastating jolt of pain through her shoulder. Sam jumped up to come to her side, but the nurse gently pushed him back.
“It's over! It's done,” the doctor comforted her. “It's back in, okay? It will burn for another day or two, but then it will be better. Keep it in the sling. Not too much movement for the next month, so no hiking.”
“Jesus! For a moment I thought you were ripping my fuckin
g arm off!” Nina scowled. Her brow glistened with sweat, and her clammy skin felt cold to the touch when Sam came to hold her hand.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Aye, I'm golden,” she said, but her face told a different story. “We have to get your eyes checked now.”
“What is wrong with your eyes, sir?” the charismatic doctor asked.
“Well, that is the thing. I have no idea. I…,” he looked suspiciously at Nina for a moment, “fell asleep, you know, outside while getting a tan. And when I woke up I had trouble focusing on the distance of objects.”
The doctor stared at Sam, locking his eyes dead on Sam's as if he wasn't buying a word of what the tourist had just reported. He dug around in his coat pocket for his pen light as he nodded. “You say you fell asleep tanning. Do you tan with a shirt on? There is no tan line on your chest, and unless you reflect sunlight with your pale skin, my Scottish friend, there is little indication that your story is true.”
“I don't think it matters why he was sleeping, doc,” Nina defended.
He looked at the petite firecracker with the big dark eyes. “Actually, it makes all the difference, ma'am. Only if I know where he was and for how long, what he was exposed to, et cetera, will I be able to determine what may have caused the problem.”
“Where did you study?” Sam asked, completely off topic.
“Pre-med Cornell and four years at Beijing University, sir. I was working on my masters at Stanford, but I had to interrupt it to come and help out with the flood of 2014 in Brunei,” he explained while he examined Sam's eyes.
“And you are hidden away in a small place like this? Almost a pity, I would say,” Sam remarked.
“My family is here, and it is where my skill is needed most, I think,” the young doctor said, keeping things light and personal because he wanted to cultivate a close rapport with the Scotsman, especially considering what he suspected was wrong. It would be impossible to have a serious discussion about such a condition even with the most open-minded of people.
“Mr. Cleave, why don't you come with me into my office so that we can speak in private,” the doctor suggested with a serious tone that worried Nina.
“Can Nina come with?” Sam asked. “I want her with me in private conversations about my health.”
“Very well,” the doctor said, and they accompanied him to a small room off the short hallway of the ward. Nina looked at Sam, but he seemed calm. In the sterile environment, Nina felt queasy. The doctor closed the door and gave the two of them a long, hard look.
“Were you up in the village off the beach, perhaps?” he asked them.
“Aye,” Sam said. “Is it a local infection?”
“Is that where you got hurt, ma'am?” He addressed Nina with a tinge of apprehension. She affirmed with a nod, looking somewhat embarrassed for her clumsy fib earlier.
“Is it a disease or something, doctor?” Sam pressed for an answer. “Do those people have some illness…?”
The doctor took a deep breath. “Mr. Cleave, do you believe in the supernatural?”
6
Purdue woke up in what felt like a freezer, or a coffin made to preserve a corpse. His eyes could not make out anything in front of him. Darkness and silence were akin to the frigid atmosphere that was burning his exposed skin. His left hand reached for his right wrist, but he found that his watch had been removed. Every breath was a rattle of torment as he panted from the cold air coming in from somewhere in the blackness. It was then that Purdue discovered that he was completely nude.
‘Oh my God! Please don’t tell me I am lying on a slab in some morgue. Please don’t tell me that I have been mistaken for dead!’ his inner voice pleaded. ‘Stay calm, David. Just stay calm until you know what is going on. No use panicking prematurely. Panic only clouds the mind. Panic only clouds the mind.'
Carefully he moved his hand down his body and moved them along his sides to feel what was underneath him.
‘Satin.’
‘Could it be a coffin?', he wondered but thought that a coffin would be anything but cold. Sporadic muscle twitches eventually turned into full-fledged cramps, especially in his feet. In pain Purdue wailed into the darkness, clutching his feet. At least this meant that he was not confined to a casket or a morgue fridge. Still, knowing this brought him no solace. The cold was unbearable, even more so than the solid dark around him.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by footsteps approaching.
‘Is this my salvation? Or my doom?’
Purdue listened carefully, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. No voices filled the place, only the incessant footfalls. His heart raced at the myriad of thoughts at what it could be – where he could be. A switch flicked and white light blinded Purdue, stinging his eyes.
“There he is,” he heard a high-pitched male voice that brought to mind Liberace. “My Lord and Savior.”
Purdue could not open his eyes. Even through shut eyelids, the light pierced into his skull.
“Take your time, Her Purdue,” the voice advised in a heavy Berlin accent. “Your eyes must first adjust, or you will go blind, darling. And we don't want that. You are just too precious.”
Uncharacteristic of Dave Purdue, he elected to respond with a well pronounced “Fuck you.”
The man giggled at his profanity, sounding rather amused by it. A clapping of hands cut through Purdue's ears, and he winced.
“Why am I naked? I don’t swing that way, mate,” Purdue managed to say.
“Oh, you will swing any way we push you, my dear. You will see. Resistance is very unhealthy. Cooperation is just as important as oxygen as you will soon realize. I am your host, Klaus, and you are naked for the simple reason that nude men are easy to detect when they escape. There is no need to restrain you when you are naked, you see. I believe in simple but effective methods,” the man explained.
Purdue forced his eyes to adjust to his bright environment. Contrary to every image he had had in his head while lying in the darkness, the chamber where he was held captive was large and luxurious. It reminded him of the décor in the chapel of Glamis Castle in his home country, Scotland. Renaissance-style paintings adorned ceilings and walls, all in colorful oils and gilded framing. Golden chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling and stained glass windows decorated the window panes that peeked through from behind lavish drapery in dark purple.
Last his eyes found the man of whom he had only heard the voice until that moment, and he looked almost exactly as Purdue had pictured him. Not very tall, the slim and elegantly dressed Klaus stood attentively with his hands neatly folded in front of him. Deep dimples formed on his cheeks when he smiled, and his dark beady eyes appeared to glow occasionally under the bright light. Purdue noticed that Klaus wore his hair in a way that reminded him of Hitler's – dark side parting, very short from the top of the ear down. But his face was clean shaven, and there was no trace of the detestable clump of hair under the nose that the demonic Nazi leader had sported.
“When can I get dressed?” Purdue asked, trying to be as polite as possible. “I am really cold.”
“You cannot, I'm afraid. As long as you are here you will be naked for practical as well as,” Klaus' eyes examined Purdue's tall, lean physique with shameless delight, “esthetic purposes.”
“Without clothing, I will freeze to death! This is ludicrous!” Purdue objected.
“Please, control yourself, Herr Purdue,” Klaus replied evenly. “Rules are rules. However, the heating will be turned on as soon as I command so that you will be comfortable. We only chilled the room to wake you.”
“Couldn’t you just wake me the old fashioned way?” Purdue sneered.
“What is the old fashioned way? Calling your name? Pouring water on you? Sending a pet cat to paw your face? Please. This is a temple of unholy gods, my dear man. We are certainly not about kindness and pampering,” Klaus reported in a cold voice that did not fit his smiling face and blazing eyes.
Purdue's legs were sh
ivering, and his nipples hardened from the cold while he stood beside the silk cloth covered table that had served as his bed since he was brought here. His hands covered his manhood, revealing his dropping body temperature by the purple look of his nails and lips.
“Heizung!” Klaus ordered. He took a gentler tone, “Within a few minutes, it will be much more comfortable for you, I promise.”
“Thank you,” Purdue stuttered through clattering teeth.
“You may sit if you wish, but you will not be allowed to leave this room until you are taken out – or carried out – depending on the degree of your cooperation,” Klaus informed him.
“About that,” Purdue said. “Where am I? A temple? And what will you need from me?”
“Slowly!” Klaus exclaimed with a big smile, clapping his palms together. “You just want to get to the details. Relax.”
Purdue felt his frustration mounting. “Listen, Klaus, I am not a bloody tourist! I am not here for a visit, and I am certainly not here to entertain you. I want the details so that we can conclude our unfortunate business and I can go home! You seem to assume that I am fine being here in my goddamn birthday suit jumping through your hoops like a circus animal!”
Klaus' smile disappeared rapidly. After Purdue had finished his rant, the slight man leered at him, unmoving. Purdue hoped that his point got through to the obnoxious idiot who was playing games with him on one of his not-so-good days.
“Are you quite done, David?” Klaus asked in a low, sinister voice that was barely audible. His dark eyes stared straight into Purdue's while he dropped his chin and locked his fingers. “Let me clarify something for you. You are not a guest here, you are right; neither are you a master. Here you do not possess any power because here you are naked, and that means you have no computer access, gadgets or credit cards to perform your magic tricks.”
Klaus slowly approached Purdue while he continued his clarification. “Here you will have no permission to question or have an opinion. You will comply or die, and you will do so without question, am I clear?”
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