36

Mann waited at the front of the hotel. He looked at his watch. Bang on five, a black Nissan Navara grunted up to the front of the hotel and a small dark-skinned man in his early sixties, wearing a red Nike baseball cap and a gold chain around his neck, hopped out of the driver’s seat and came around to shake Mann’s hand. Outside the hotel, some anti-government protesters were setting up a blockade.

‘Welcome to Thailand.’

‘You must be Gee.’

‘Please…’ He held the passenger door open. Mann stashed his bag behind his seat.

‘I appreciate the lift.’

‘It is no problem for me. I have business there. Louis is an old friend.’

They turned out of the hotel, took a right past the night markets now quiet and deserted, and onto the highway heading south.

‘What kind of business?’

‘Import, export.’

‘Right.’ Mann left it there. It seemed like import, export was the profession of everyone and anyone in Asia.

‘And you, sir?’ Mann could see he was being scrutin ised.

‘I am here about the missing volunteers.’

‘The five young people?’

‘Yes, that’s right. I am going to try and find them if I can.’

‘Ah ha…I see. That is why you go to Mae Sot? Ah ha…I see. It is a very important thing you do. The world is watching. Thailand depends on the world to make economic growth, you understand?’

‘I understand.’

‘You been to Burma, Mr Mann? Beautiful place. But so many troubles.’

‘No, I haven’t been, not yet.’

‘Ah ha…Maybe you will see Burma when you look for the five?’

It was still early—the earth had a pink post-dawn blush to it. Mann dozed. They stopped for fuel and for Gee to stretch his legs. There was an air of suspicion and suspense on the troubled streets. Anti-government protesters gathered in packs and lurked in shadows as the government troops passed in displays of authority.

Three hours down the highway, Mann opened his eyes as the car slowed then stopped at a police checkpoint. One of the two officers looked first at Gee, then peered in at Mann. Armoured vehicles were nose to tail waiting for deployment as soldiers smoked cheroots and sipped coffee. The men stared in at Mann, as did their commander, leaning on his vehicle, arms crossed. One of the policemen ordered Gee out of the car. Gee did as he was told, nodding and smiling in the direction of the commander. They walked a few feet away from the car with one of the officers whilst the other came around to the passenger side to talk to Mann.

‘What is your business here?’

Mann smiled. ‘Tourist. I’ll be going home soon.’

The officer continued staring at Mann but he had no idea how good Mann was at staring back and eventually he gave up. The military commander was still watching Mann. Mann watched the police officer saunter back to his colleague who was shaking Gee’s hand. Money passed between them.

‘What are they looking for?’ asked Mann as Gee got back into the car, started it up and drove away, leaving the policemen standing in the middle of the road watching them go.

‘They look for refugees from camps. They look for people with drugs and now they are looking for trouble-makers. Sometimes they just want money, otherwise they will put something in your car for the next road block to find and then it will cost you double. Better pay when they ask. Less trouble.’

‘Why did he want you out of the car?’

‘You’re a foreigner. It made him nervous.’

‘Nervous, but still greedy.’

‘Ah ha…you understand the way things work,’ Gee laughed.

The distant mountain range grew closer. There was an ancient, Jurassic Park feel to the place The cloud settled in the depths of dense forest and the spiky mountains rose above. There was a suffocating stillness, a claustrophobic feel. Ivy smothered the trees. As they reached the mountains, the road swallowed them and plunged like a rollercoaster ride.

Gee sounded the horn three times as they made their tricky descent of the treacherous road, wet from the morning cloud. On the other side of the road a lorry driver beeped three times back.

‘Why do you do that?’

‘Many people die here,’ he answered. ‘We must make…’ he banged his hand against the middle of the steering wheel ‘…three times. Spirits on road, dead people, we must say to get out of the way.’

Two more road blocks and another half an hour’s driving and the hills levelled as they approached the outskirts of a town. Roadside vendors appeared and without warning they were stuck in the mayhem of a spice and livestock market.

‘This is Mae Sot, sir,’ Gee laughed. ‘Always the same. Always madness here. Every colour of persons, every religion and no religion. We have every type here.’

They were stuck next to an open-air spice market where women slept, curled between the mountains of red chillies, dried fish and tamarind pods, camouflaged by the henna prints on their skin and intricate patterns on their bright sarongs and saris. They looked like part of the goods for sale. If the stories were true then perhaps they were—human trafficking was apparently big business in Mae Sot.

They inched past the tangle of tuk-tuks and crept forward with the cart pullers and the bicycles. They reached one of the main junctions in Mae Sot centre before taking a right and heading straight along a dusty pot-holed road. On one side there was a large temple, its gold shimmering in the noon sun, on the other, open-fronted shops selling replica goods alongside rubies and emeralds. They eventually pulled up outside a small guesthouse.

‘We are here, sir. Here is the hotel.’

Mann peered out of the car. The name Mary’s was hanging from a large board outside.

This was the last place the five had slept before they were taken. Maybe this place held the answers to where they were now.

37

‘Lucas, you okay?’

Lucas murmured something and tried to smile, but his mouth was parched and his lips cracked. He had not been properly conscious all day. He had only just managed to swallow some water. He shivered as if he was cold and yet he sweated at the same time, his face was blotched crimson and white with fever, and he shook violently. Jake knew whatever illness it was that Lucas had, it was getting worse. Jake pulled a piece of discarded sacking near to him and lifted Lucas’s head a little as he placed it underneath. It was all that Jake could offer to his friend for comfort. Jake touched him. He was burning up. He was obviously in pain as he brought his knees up to his stomach and groaned. There was nothing for Jake to wipe his face with, no water to cool his head. Jake knew he had to get more water for him.

Jake and the others lay on one side of the platform in the large open-sided barn. The ragged group of exhausted porters sat on the other.

Anna and Silke were curled up, lying on their sides, both of them sound asleep. Jake was resting with his back against one of the many struts that held up the old roof. He was keeping watch. There was an air of nervous excitement amongst the men tonight. They were back on familiar territory. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling for the five. They seemed to Jake to be electrically charged. They were fighting, drinking, running wild amongst the old ruins.

Handsome jumped up onto the platform, his body swaying from the rum he held in his hand. He had come to watch the porters. He stood over them shouting at them to hurry up as they emptied the sacks, found the rice, and dragged out the pots for cooking. Jake felt so sorry for them. They had been with them a week now, no food, hardly any rest. They looked so frightened. The women were constantly goaded and harassed, their shoulders raw from carrying the heavy packs. Every day they seemed to get thinner and weaker. Every day they grew more like the walking dead. Jake looked over at Thomas. Thomas was lying on his back, knees up, feet on the floor. His eyes were wide. He looked as if he were staring at the roof but he wasn’t really looking at anything.