Tom clenched his fists, the fear clawing up his throat. He had to find her. He had to act—now.
He stayed low, pressing himself into the brush as he tried to figure out his next move. A direct confrontation was suicide. But leaving without Mimi? Unthinkable.
His every instinct screamed for action, but the odds were crushing. He had to survive this. And more importantly—he had to find help.
The only option left was escape. He needed to make it back to the temple, report what he’d seen, and pray someone believed him.
Pushing through vines and thorns, Tom retraced his steps as best he could, every crack of a branch behind him setting his nerves on edge.
The temple rose into view, serene and surreal, as if untouched by the jungle’s darkness. He rushed to the road and flagged a taxi with wild gestures, barely coherent as he barked out, “Police station—now!”
At the station, he stumbled through the door, breathless and filthy, his words tumbling over one another as he told the officers everything. The monkeys. The thieves. The jungle hideout. His missing kitten.
They looked at him as though he were mad.
One officer raised an eyebrow. Another exchanged a look with his partner, barely concealing a smirk. The idea that monkeys were involved in organized crime was, to them, laughable.
“Sir, are you sure you weren’t… hallucinating?” one asked, fighting back a grin.
Tom’s heart sank.