“I want three teams,” Dieter said, securing the pack to his back. “We need to try and find the black box, and the cockpit recorder. Look for any signs that might indicate the direction they could have gone, after the crash.”

“Provided, any of them were alive when they landed,” a tall redheaded man named Braxton said.

“Until proven otherwise, we’re going on the assumption there were survivors,” Dieter said in a stern voice.

There were fifteen men in all, seven were hired by Cassie, and the three guards from the castle, leaving the last five from the original search team. Together they began moving up the hill toward the area Dieter had found the day before. The sun was just breaking dawn, and the air was cool, but it did little to discourage their determination.

Erich turned around as the helicopter that brought them, lifted off the ground and headed back the way they’d come. For days, the tension had been an unwelcome enemy, now it was replaced with hope and purpose. They knew there had been a plane that crashed in the mountains, a hundred miles away from the original search area. Now, all they had to do was prove it had been Hans’s.

The day wore on as morning turned to noon, and the sun warmed up the mountain. The group paused long enough to eat and relieve themselves, then headed out again. The helicopter couldn’t land closer to the wreckage, which meant they had to trek up the mountain on foot. Over fifty kilometers away from the clearing, but nobody argued. If it hadn’t been for their task, they would have enjoyed the hike a little more. The mountain was beautiful and inviting with a variety of wildlife scattered about the trees and brush. The birds sang cheerfully in the treetops, welcoming them to their native land.

Franz was the first to see the trees laying on the ground, dried and leafless as if they had been there for some time. There were sprigs of grass and flowers growing in the turned-up dirt, along with small saplings. He ordered the three teams to divide off, each with a task in mind.

Dieter continued down the torn ground where the plane had slid against the mountain. He mentally began to estimate the time it would take for nature to take over the land and felt a sting of excitement. Trees didn’t grow overnight, and he knew from living in Hennhofen, it took at least a year for new trees to take root. These looked like they’d been there a full season, if not longer. That was an encouraging sign, and from the condition of the large trees laying on the ground, they had been broken off by a force, far greater than a winter storm.

The further he walked, the deeper the impression in the ground became, and the wider the path grew. It didn’t take long before the white tip of an airplane wing appeared through the dense forest. Dieter drew a deep breath to steady his nerves as his heart began to pound within his chest. This was the moment they had all been waiting for. The moment that would prove Cassie right, or put a body in the grave beneath Hans’s headstone.

Step after step, the group neared the plane. The area was silent except for the birds singing in the trees, and the soft sound of animals scurrying beneath the grass. The crunching sound of their feet against the twigs and branches echoed as they continued forward. Their heartbeat sounded like thunder in their ears, and they quietly inched closer to the wreckage.

Erich moved around the right side of the plane with a surreal feeling. The numbers on the wing proved it had been the plane the BPOL chartered the night they left China. It had been broken off when it landed and lay several feet from the fuselage. Debris was scattered among the flowers and grass, with bits of white and blue metal hanging from nearby branches. The closer they got, the less encouraged they were that they would find any signs of life.

Franz moved to the end of the plane and looked inside, realizing he was staring into the plane, where the cockpit should have been. Ripped from the body of the craft, the jagged edges of what had once been the galley walls protruded outwards like razor-sharp fangs.

“Erich,” Dieter said as he moved to where the man was standing. “See if you can find the cockpit. Franz and I will try and get inside.”

“Right,” the man said, calling out for his team to join him.

Franz and Dieter pulled on the exposed back of the cabinets, jerking them out of the wreckage. They fell to the ground with a loud crunch as the wood broke and dishes fell into the dirt. The doors were still tightly secured, keeping them inside, but most had been broken on impact.

“I’ll go see if we can get in through the door or a window,” Franz said when they saw the solid wall and closed door beyond the counter, still fastened to the floor.

Dieter continued to struggle with the bottom cabinets, kicking at them to try and break them free. He was beginning to think it was hopeless when Franz called out his name.

“I found the door,” he said, waiting until Dieter joined him.

They stared at the barrier that hung from its thick hinges. It appeared to have been pushed outwards, into the thick trunk of a broken tree. There was a large dent on the inside, and it looked as if it had been kicked open. They pulled away dry branches that had fallen, blocking the entrance, and brushed at the cobwebs that lay in front of them.

Cautiously, they moved forward, ducking to get in through the opening that had collapsed under the weight of yet another heavy branch. The inside was dark with the windows either covered by the plastic shades or obscured by trees and branches.

Dieter removed his backpack and unzipped the top, then fished inside for a moment until he found his flashlight. He turned it on and shined it around the interior. The small plane contained twelve seats, six rows of two on either side. The front four had been crushed under the weight of the interior ceiling that had collapsed inwards. One of the middle seats lay upturned, torn from the floor with the black belt still buckled. The left side had been ripped apart as if pulled violently from the back of the chair.

The two men frowned as they continued to inspect the interior. The light flashed on two seats in the back, and they froze in stunned silence. There were two, decaying bodies, one slumped over the arm of the seat, the second cut in half. A sheet of metal fuselage, about two feet in diameter had been thrust into the wall behind the second body, severing it across the chest. The clothing was stained red with blood, and the wall behind it had red streaks that had run down the length of it.

“See if you can find some identification,” Dieter told Franz.

He watched the man take a flashlight out of his pack and cautiously move forward, avoiding the debris, and hanging oxygen bags and wires from the ceiling.

Dieter knelt to the floor next to the seat that had been broken off its thick bolts. He lifted the pieces of the tattered belt, inspecting it under the glow of his light. There was no doubt about it, it had been ripped by force. The buckle was dented and unable to open, which meant that someone had been strapped inside it, and had to fight their way out. But who had it been?

“What did you find?” Erich asked, pushing his way into the plane.

“Two bodies,” Dieter answered.

“Two? Not three?”

“No, just two.”

“Who were they?”

“Rolf Shultz, and Casper Vogt,” Franz said moving back to the other two.

“Rolf and Casper,” Dieter repeated, standing up and looking around with his flashlight.

The three men were silent as they followed the light. There were no signs of another body. They looked down at the chair on the floor, feeling a sense of encouragement race through their veins. The flashlight moved off the seat to the open door. A trail of dried blood stained the carpet with a single bloody handprint on the frame of the steel barrier.

Dieter moved past the other two and stopped in front of the door. He raised his foot and placed it in the impression on the inside. It was a near-perfect fit.

“Take the men back to the clearing and radio the authorities,” he told Franz. “Tell them what we found and tell them to get someone out here to clean this up. The families of these men will want to know they were found. Dead or alive, they need to have closure.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked, moving out the door behind his leader.

“I’m going to try and find a path out of here. Send the chopper back for me once the authorities have been notified. I don’t know how far he could have gone alone, or where he is, but the fact that he’s not here means Cassie was right. Hans did survive the crash. All we have to do is find him.”

Cassie sat on the sofa reading a book of poetry she’d found on the shelf. Hannah had been playing on the floor with her new toys when she’d grown tired and climbed up beside her mother. She now lay asleep with her head in Cassie’s lap, snoring softly in the silent room.

Pop and Eva had gone out to supper for the second night in a row. They had spent nearly every moment together since they first met, and Cassie was beginning to wonder if the man was going to want to return to Germany with her or stay here and allow the flames of romance, to catch fire.

The sound of a car door echoed through the door Cassie left open for air. She smiled when she heard Pop’s familiar, cheerful whistle, and looked up as he stepped inside the house. He paused by the sitting-room door and smiled at the sight of mother and daughter.

“She looks very peaceful,” he whispered.

“She played herself into exhaustion,” Cassie chuckled softly. “How was your night?”

“It was great. We had supper in Veneto and then went for a long walk. It’s a beautiful night. Perfect for…”

“Romance?” Cassie asked, interrupting the man’s explanation.

“I was going to say for a stroll, but I’ll settle for romance.”

Cassie watched him walk to the chair and sit down, sighing contently. She could see the blossom of love beginning to grow in the man’s eyes and fought the feeling of jealousy. She may be far from having the hopeful romantic encounter she longed for, but she wasn’t giving up hope that it would happen for her one day soon.

“I wanted to talk to you about Germany,” Cassie began quietly, closing the book and setting it on the table. “I’m going to take Hannah back the day after tomorrow, but if you aren’t ready to go with me, you can stay here. The villa is yours to use as long as you wish.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ll be coming along with you,” Pop said with a half-grin. “That is if you don’t mind if I bring a friend with me.”

“Eva?”

“I asked if she’d like to take an extended vacation. Do you know they call it a holiday here? Anyway, she said yes, and I told her I’d discuss it with you.”

“She’s more than welcome, of course. But what about Santos?”

“Eva said he had to stay here. He has a job, and she thinks that being on his own would do him some good. Maybe it will help the boy grow up a bit.”

“I’d like to see that,” Cassie chuckled. “I was thinking of speaking with Liam, about finding a woman for Santos. He needs someone to take care of him, and the women are taught how to please a man, even a forty-year-old virgin. They can teach him how to become a great lover, and perhaps even help him grow up a bit.”

“It would be worth the effort,” Pop said with a smile. “I’d like to see how this program of yours works. I’ve never known of anyone who is an expert at sex.”

“The women are taught to make love in many ways. Some of them may shock you.”

“Like what?”

“Like partners, groups…”

“Orgies?” Pop asked with a shocked look on his aged face, his voice rising just enough to startle the sleeping child.

“Yes, that too,” Cassie answered softly, smoothing Hannah’s hair so she’d stay asleep. “Also, oral and self-satisfaction, bondage, and what Hans calls 'double play'.”

“What’s that?”

“Think about it, Pop,” she said with a hidden grin. “According to my husband, a woman has three holes and she’s taught to use all of them. Separately, and together.”

Pop frowned as he considered what she was saying, then his eyes rounded, and his jaw dropped open, causing Cassie to giggle softly.

“You don’t mean…two…at once?”

“Or three, depending on the mood of the partners.”

“That’s…very interesting,” he said causing Cassie’s eyes to widen.

“Aren’t you shocked, or disgusted?” she asked in a surprised tone of voice.

“Not really,” he told her, shaking his head. “I’ve heard a lot of things working at the bar, and I’ve seen a lot. I’ve often seen whores come in with a man or two and wonder if she was entertaining both. I’m a man with a wide imagination. I can see where it’s possible. Besides, I lived through the sixties.”

“You surprise me, Pop. I would have thought you’d find the whole idea gross, or immoral.”

“Immoral perhaps, but I’m not the one to judge people. Live and let live, as the saying goes.”

Cassie shook her head in amusement as she wiggled out from beneath her daughter, then lifted her up and laid her across her shoulder. She took her blanket and doll and walked toward the stairs.

She paused at the foot of the staircase while Pop closed and locked the front door, then followed her up to the second level. He opened the bedroom door for her and flipped on the switch that controlled the bedside lamp. He watched Cassie lay Hannah in bed next to her own pillow, then smiled mischievously when she turned to face him.

“This husband of yours,” he began in a hushed whisper. “He was the women’s master, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you said he tested the women’s talents.”

“Yes,” she answered again.

“Did he ever…I mean, you were married to him, and you have a daughter by the man. Did he ever ask you to participate in…that sort of thing?”

“I was taken to the castle with the intension of learning to be a slave,” she told him. “I underwent some lessons, but Hans said he took me away before my training was complete. I’ll let you work that answer out on your own.”

She smiled at the man and kissed his cheek then quietly closed the door, leaving him to stare at her with a confused expression, that accompanied him through the night.

The beautiful blonde giggled as he lay beside her, kissing her neck. Slowly, his lips moved down her chest, where he licked and nipped his way to her erect nipple. The feel of her flesh in his mouth made his arousal harden, and he began to pant.

“Tell me you love me,” he ordered.

“I love you,” she assured him.

“Now, beg me to fuck you.”

“Please, Master, fuck me.”

“Do you want it hard, or slow?” he asked, raising above her as he moved between her spread legs.

“Hard, demanding, and insane,” she smiled.

“But I know what you want first.”

He smiled at her and kissed her lips before moving down her body, kissing his way to the smooth, hair-free junction between her legs.

She moaned as he kissed her lips, then slipped the tip of this tongue between them, caressing and teasing her. She gasped when he found her clitoris, then began to wiggle beneath his touch, forcing him to hold her down with his strong arms.

He tasted her sweet nectar as his fingers moved between her labia, opening her for a full exploration. He could smell her arousal, her pheromones calling out to him, winding his libido into a tight knot. He had to resist taking her until after she came. He needed to feel the control over her, he had to make her understand he was the Master, and she was his to love as he wished.

“Please,” she moaned.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he ordered in a husky growl.

“Please, make me cum.”

“Why should I?” he teased, licking and nipping her swollen bud as he moved his long finger inside her wet body.

“I need you. I need you to take me.”

“Beg me again, slave,” he ordered, his tongue moving down her body as he pressed her legs further apart.

“Please, Master, make me cum,” she moaned.

“Good girl,” he chuckled. “But I think I can make you do more than whimper.

He slipped his tongue inside her tight body, as his thumbs played with her clitoris. He moved the length of his tongue in and out of her, mimicking the action his erection would soon be taking.

She cried out as her muscles tightened around him, her fingers winding in his hair. She held him closer to her, as he continued to torment her with his skillful mouth. He let her ride the waves of passion for several long moments, before rising above her again.

He pressed the tip of his engorged arousal against her wet body and smiled down into her blue eyes. Slowly, he pressed into her, feeling every inch of her hot, tight body encompass him.

“I love you, Cassie,” he moaned, filling her with his full length.

“I will always love you, my 'Master of Love',” she smiled as the shadows of the dream came to an end.

Landon opened his eyes to the sounds of children’s voices outside his window. 'It was just a dream', he thought, feeling the disappointment of consciousness embraced him. Every night he found himself embraced in the arms of the beautiful blonde seductress, and every morning he would wake up feeling alone, and more confused than the day before.

Slowly, he tossed the covers aside and sat up. The morning sun was warm as it shone through the slit in the faded curtains. The air was already hot, promising another long, endless day of labor. He stood up and stretched, then walked naked across the worn carpet to the small bathroom.

He ran enough water to fill the sink, then took the rag he’d used the night before and washed his neck and face, then under his arms, before lathering the bar of soap in his hands. He took the old razor out of the cabinet behind the mirror and ran it across his neck and chin. He didn’t want to waste the water that was reserved for the village, but he would have to bathe either tonight or tomorrow. He didn’t want to smell too badly, especially when he was working around patients.

Returning the razor to the cabinet, he unwrapped his toothbrush from the paper bag he kept it in to keep bugs off it. He ran it under the water and applied a dollop of toothpaste in the center. When he got paid, he would have to arrange a ride into the next village and buy some more toothpaste and deodorant. Despite how much fun his fellow workers made of him, the one thing he refused to do was stink.

Once his morning tasks were finished, he returned the toothbrush to the bag and closed the nearly empty tube of toothpaste. He squeezed out the rag and hung it on the side of the sink, then filled his hands with water and ran it through his hair. Using his fingers, he combed the length of dark hair back from his face and looked in the mirror. The scar on his forehead once again made him frown. If only there was a way to remember…

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he walked back into his bedroom and took the pants off the end of the bed. He shook them off with a quick snap of his wrist, shaking any unwanted visitors out of the legs and pockets, then slid them up across his firm hips. He zipped them up and repeated his actions with his tee-shirt then pulled it over his head.

Landon sat on the end of the bed and removed his socks from his old worn boots. He shook them out and watched two cockroaches, the size of his thumb, run scurrying across the floor. Once he was dressed and his boots tied around his feet, he walked out into the morning sun.

The smell of breakfast filled the area, and he watched the children run toward the hut where they would receive their bowl of oatmeal and watered down powdered milk. He yawned as he moved quietly across the compound toward the hospital.

It wasn’t much of a hospital, Landon thought. At least, not like the ones he’d seen…somewhere. He couldn’t recall where, exactly, but he knew there were better places than this. Still, it was his home, and it was all he knew. Despite his dreams of the beautiful blonde who loved to be fucked, he had to be content where he was.

He pulled the rickety wooden screen open and stepped into the wooden building. The smell of alcohol greeted him, and he knew the patients had been sponged down before being fed their morning porridge. He went behind the narrow counter and picked up the clipboard and flipped through the pages. He was assigned to the gardens this morning, and teaching reading to the children this afternoon. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with the sickening odor of vomit and urine.

“Good morning, handsome,” a female voice cooed from the doorway behind him.

Landon turned to see the attractive brunette step in the building, her hair pulled into a short ponytail at the nape of her neck. She wore the familiar cuffed shorts and tank top tied in the middle of her abdomen, over a white bra. She was a beautiful woman, at least compared to the old village women, but she wasn’t the blonde his libido cried out for.

“Hello, Leslie,” Landon answered, returning the clipboard to the counter.

“I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“If I eat any more oatmeal, I may be the next one to vomit.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. I have something for you.”

Landon watched as she stepped behind the counter and pulled out a small wooden box from the back of the top drawer. She opened the lid and removed a brown wrapped package. She smiled when she handed it to him, watching him unwrap it.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked with a suspicious expression as he looked at the three chocolate bars inside.

“I bartered it off one of the new girls.”

“You mean you swiped it out of her belongings,” he accused, setting the bag to the countertop.

“I did no such thing, smartass. I exchanged it with her for one of my nightshifts.”

“You don’t work the nightshift.”

“She doesn’t know that, and she wanted to be with her boyfriend, who does. Besides, it was a harmless little white lie. Who’s going to know?”

“You will, and you’ll have to live with that lie the rest of your life.”

“Oh, my God, you’d think you were the priest or something. Just because you live the celibate life of a monk, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

“I’m not a monk or a priest. I just don’t like liars or cheats, and you’re both.”

Landon turned and headed back to the door.

“What’s your hurry?” Leslie called after him. “Afraid you might give in to your desires and ravage me?”

“The day I ravage you, will be the day hell freezes over.”

Leslie stared after the man as he stormed out the door, glaring at his back. She’d been waiting for him to come to her for three long years. If he didn’t hurry up, she’d think he didn’t like her.

“You may as well give up,” another man said as he stepped out of one of the three rooms. “He’s not like the other men who come through here. Landon has morals and principles, and you have none.”

“I’ll never give up,” she smiled. “He’s worth the wait.”

“It may be a very long wait.”

“I’m patient…to a point. Besides, he’s not the only fish in the sea. It’s not like I’m lacking offers.”

“I think you should probably get to work. Bed three has two new sores that need dressings, and bed one’s fever has spiked again.”

“When are we going to get some real medicine in here to treat these people, instead of relying on the dung mixture concocted by the village witch?”

“Now who’s the smartass?” he asked with an amused grin. “The supplies should be tomorrow. Until then, all we have is the 'dung mixture', which you need to put on bed three. Pretend you’re a nurse and start working.”

“Yes, Dr. Jepson,” she said in a sarcastic voice. “You and Landon should be lovers. You’re both temperamental and bitchy.”

“No, we both just know when there’s work to do. A habit you should learn.”

Leslie offered the man’s back a snarl before sticking her tongue out and walking into the room with bed three.

Landon reached down and pulled out a carrot from the garden, then wiped it on his pant leg. He bit the stringy root off the end and spit it out, then took a large bite out of it. Not exactly a gourmet meal, but it was a hell of a sight better than oatmeal and powdered milk.

He picked up the hoe as he walked down the rows of vegetables and began tilling the weeds from between the plants. It was hard work, but it was far more desirable than cleaning up after sick people. The winter had been harsh, and there was more sickness this year than the past two. The fevers had left three more families without parents, and they buried two newborn babies over the past six weeks.

It was a hard life for these people, but it was all they knew, and the mission had been there to help rescue him. He was grateful and willing to help as much as he could. He just wished there was more he could do for them.

Three rows of beets later, Landon looked up and saw the new boy, Raymond, come walking towards him. He was a nice enough guy, but young, with a head full of ideals. He joined the organization right out of high school and was sent here to help care for the village. That was six months ago, and he still freaked out whenever he saw a field rat.

“Good morning, Landon,” Raymond shouted, waving to him as he approached.

“Morning,” Landon answered, turning his attention back to the soil.

“Did you hear those helicopters a little while ago? Something is going on up on the mountain. I wonder what it is?”

“I didn’t hear anything, but I rarely do when I’m sleeping, which is something you should learn to do. Stop chasing after Leslie. She’s not worth your time or affection.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled, brushing his red hair from his face. “I think she’s just in need of a decent man to teach her to behave.”

“Think you’re that man, do you?” Landon asked with a half-grin.

“I have been known to make women cry.”

“In bed, or just in a dark alley?”

“Funny,” Raymond snarled, listening to Landon’s deep chuckle. “Hey, did you hear? Two more women disappeared last night. That makes six in two months, and four men left to look for work. There’s a place near New Delhi that’s offering decent pay for a day’s work, and free room and board.”

“Those places are only out to make slaves out of their workers, and no I didn’t hear about the women. Any idea where they went?”

“No, but Leslie said she saw one of them go off with some guy in a wagon, but she never came back. The other one was that quiet girl who lived in the shack up the hill. The girl with her younger brother and sister.”

“Where are the kids now?” Landon asked with a frown, turning to look at the roof of the worn-out lumber lean-to on the mountain path.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen them.”

“Damn it,” Landon growled under his breath as he tossed the hoe down. “If she’s gone, that means they’re alone, and probably scared to death.”

“I’ll go tell the priest. He can send someone, or he can go himself. It’s about time he starts doing something around here, besides preaching.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll go check on them. Let the cook know he’ll have two more for supper.”

Landon watched the boy turn around and head off towards the tent where they gathered for meals. He stooped over and pulled out two carrots, then walked at a steady pace toward the shack, feeling a strange anger fill his heart. He had no use for religion, despite the constant preaching from Father Downing.

The priest was a British man who traveled from village to village, offering comfort to the poor people around the mountain. He was a decent man, for the most part, but Landon had no use for his teachings. He’d had to deal with men of the cloth in his past…somewhere…and all he knew of them was the hypocritical side. They preached salvation and dedication to God while indulging in the darker side of mankind.

God, Landon snorted as he headed up the path to the door of the old shack. If there was such a person, he’d be down here taking care of his children. Instead, he allowed them to suffer and die. That wasn’t much of a father in his way of thinking.

Knocking on the hut’s wooden frame, Landon pulled the rope and opened the latch that held the door closed. He pushed the barrier open, cautiously, so he wouldn’t frighten the children. The interior of the shack was nothing more than some old mats on the floor and a stone box for cooking. There was a single window with a tattered piece of fabric to hold out the morning sun. The children were cuddled together on one mat, shivering in the cool air of the dark home. They blinked several times as Landon stepped inside, staring at the large man with fear-filled eyes.

“Hello,” he said gently. “I came to see if you would like to join the other children in the village. They’re getting ready for school.”

“Sister told us to stay here,” the boy said weakly, causing Hans to frown.

He couldn’t be more than six or seven, and his sister looked to be no more than four. They were dirty, their dark hair ratted, and their faces streaked with dried tears. They wore clothes that were handoffs brought up by the priest. They were thin, and their ribs protruded beneath their dark flesh, and Landon knew they were closer to death than life.

“I’ll let your sister know you’re with us,” he told the two, reaching toward the boy, handing him the carrots he brought. “We have food, and warm blankets. Why don’t you come with me, and when your sister returns we’ll make sure she gets something to eat as well.”

The boy took the carrots hesitantly, handing one to his little sister. Landon watched as they began to eat the vegetables, then reached a large hand to them, and smiled.

“Come with me now,” he said gently. “You don’t want to stay here alone.”

The little girl stood up on thin, weak legs and reached for the man’s hand, followed by her brother. She walked to Landon, then hugged him as tears began to fall from her eyes. He wrapped her in the warmth of his embrace, and lifted both children in his large arms, hugging them close to his chest. He carried them out of the shack and back down the hill towards the tent where he knew the cook was preparing another pot of oatmeal.

In his heart was an emptiness that made him feel hollow and alone. He knew the children’s mother had died shortly after the girl was born, and the father left to find work, leaving the children in the care of their teenage sister. Now she was gone, and they were alone in a large, cruel world. If he ever had a child, he would never leave her alone. He would be there by her side when she woke up, and he’d be there when she fell asleep at night. He would never turn his back on her, the way these children’s father had.

The vegetables were doing exceptionally well this year, with a full harvest of radishes, carrots, tomatoes, and potatoes. They made an excellent stew and combined with fried dough and rice, the mission had a decent supper to offer to the refugees who came to find warmth and comfort.

Landon pushed his bowl aside, watching the children go back for a second helping. He felt full and satisfied for the first time in over a month. If it wasn’t for the vegetables he enjoyed working with, he’d probably have starved a long time ago, especially if he had to rely on oatmeal or pancakes for nourishment.

Standing, Landon took his wooden dish and walked it to the tub of wash water. He quickly washed it out, then turned it upside down on an old cloth rag used as a table cloth, to dry. He left the tent and glanced up at the sound of helicopters on the mountain. He remembered what Raymond said earlier about hearing choppers, and he could see the faint flash of lights and knew there were workers up there. He heard stories of a plane crash a few years back, but since it didn’t appear to involve him, he didn’t care what was going on.

The sun was setting, and the air was turning cool once again. Landon watched the priest as he spoke softly to the children, whose sister had gone off with the mysterious wagon driver. He knew the priest would take them down to the orphanage in New Delhi tomorrow, and hopefully send word to the local rangers to watch for their sister.

Little help it would do, he thought sadly. When women disappeared from the villages, they were never found again. Out of the three years he’d been here, more than fifty women had disappeared, and they had never been seen or heard from again. It was as if the earth had opened and swallowed them whole.

Landon turned to the soft, lilting giggle of Leslie as she walked into the tent with one of the new boys who had joined them last week. He felt nauseated and fought the urge to snarl in disgust. The woman was a tramp, jumping from bed to bed without the slightest care of who the man was. In the back of his mind, Landon thought about how he would like to send her away, somewhere far below ground, and teach her how to behave. With the proper guidance, she could learn to be a woman, instead of a whore. But it meant he’d have to take time to care, and frankly, he didn’t.

He looked back out across the faces of those leaving the tent and frowned. They were becoming fewer and fewer as the weeks went by. Not that it was a bad thing, necessarily, but the decrease in numbers wasn’t because they were moving on to greener pastures. It was because they were dying.

The medicine the mission promised them had been stolen off the truck twice in the past month. At this rate, the village would be empty before treatment for this illness arrived. It was sad to think about what these villages would be like in the next few years. At the rate people were leaving or dying, there would be nobody left to care for.

“Landon,” a voice called out, stopping him from going back to his small hut.

He turned to see Dr. Jepson walking toward him and smiled. He liked the doctor in charge of the hospital and owed him a great deal. If it hadn’t been for him, Landon wouldn’t know where he’d be right now. It was his kindness that saved him when he arrived at the village, even though he couldn’t remember the event. He had no identification, no money, and a head injury that left him clueless to the world around him. All he remembered was waking up in the hospital, his head exploding, feeling lost and anxious about something he couldn’t even remember.

Jepson nursed him back to health and put him to work. He spent hours talking with him, trying to help him remember his past, but all he could recall was the beautiful woman who shared his dreams.

“Hello,” Landon answered, shaking hands with the man.

“I was wondering if I could talk you into doing me a favor,” Jepson asked. “The supply truck won’t be here until late tomorrow, I hope, but until then the cook said we’re running out of food. I know how much you enjoy fishing and I thought you might like a day to rest. Care to try your luck at catching tomorrow’s supper?”

“I’d be happy to. It would be nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life,” Landon chuckled.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had much time to talk lately,” Jepson said, walking with Landon back to his hut. “This flu is taking up all my free hours.”

“Not a problem. I don’t think there’s much point in trying to pull dead memories out of the cobwebs. I’ve gone as far as I can, and I still can’t remember anything. Hell, I don’t even know what my real name is.”

“There’s always hypnosis,” Jepson suggested, closing the door behind them and watching the man walk to the small refrigerator beneath the bedside table.

“If I can’t remember on my own, then I’d rather not try.”

“Do you remember anything more about the woman you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Last night I called her Cassie,” Landon said, handing a bottle of beer to the man and sitting down on the bed, pulling the top off his own. “I can feel that she’s a significant part of my past, and I get a strong feeling she was my wife. I wear a ring, so it’s only natural to assume I was married, but there’s something else. Something…odd. She called me Master.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I wish I knew,” Landon said, taking a drink from the bottle. “I can’t shake the feeling that the title was earned. I can feel a dark side, something evil and demented and it scares the hell out of me. I can’t stop thinking about her. What if she’s not alive? What if I did something to her…”

“I can’t imagine that,” Jepson said shaking his head. “You have a strong personality, and very little patience when it comes to Leslie, but you have a kind soul and the children love you. If anything, I think you’re just a well-ordered man who doesn’t like to take shit off anyone.”

“I called her a slave,” Landon said softly. “I ordered her to beg me to fuck her.”

“That may just have been a game you played together,” Jepson told him. “Lovers often find ways to keep sex new and interesting.”

“If she loved me as much as she does in my dreams, then why hasn’t she come looking for me? Where is she?”

“Landon, you need to give it time. The fact that you’re still dreaming about her is good, and now you have a name. That’s a big step. For three years, you’ve only had a face. This could be a key to unlocking the rest of your memories.”

“I sure as hell hope so,” he said taking another swallow from his bottle. “I can’t even begin to explain how frustrating it is to look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back.”

“Try not to push it,” Jepson said, draining the last of his drink and standing up from the small table where he’d been sitting. “The harder you try, the thicker the wall becomes. Take tomorrow and relax. Let your mind clear and just enjoy yourself. Maybe you’ll learn something more from tonight’s dreams.”

Landon walked the man to the door and shook his hand, thanking him again for the day off. He knew the doctor meant well, but the progress he had made was little and there was no foreseeable end to the frustrations. Despite how confused he always felt in the morning, he at least had his lover to embrace in his dreams, and for a few hours he felt happy and whole.

He watched Jepson walk across the distance to the hospital, then closed the door and locked it. The only reason he locked it was because of nocturnal visitors he didn’t enjoy waking up to find next to him. Leslie, being the worst of all. She had come to him twice in the middle of the night. When he woke, she was in bed with him, his dick in her mouth as she tried to arouse him. Despite how beautiful and available she was, she wasn’t what his heart wanted, and he swiftly dismissed her from his hut. He couldn’t take a lover when his heart begged for someone else.

Landon walked into the bathroom and pulled the chain that lit the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. He repeated the morning’s ritual, and prepared for bed, eager to fall asleep. Only in his dreams, did he see the beautiful blonde. Only there, did he feel as if he belonged somewhere.

He went back into his bed and pulled the blankets aside, looking for any unwanted creatures who may have burrowed into the old mattress. Assured he would be in his bed alone, he stripped out of his clothes and slid between the rough sheets, then pulled the mosquito netting around him.

With a deep sigh, he raised his left hand in the air, looking at the simple gold band on his finger. Because of this, more than his own desires, he knew he would never be able to take another woman into his heart. Whoever he was married to, deserved his loyalty, even if she’d never come to find him. He’d been in this village for three years. Why hadn’t she come searching for him?

The first and last thing he could remember was waking up in the hospital, unaware of who he was, or where he came from. Jepson told him he’d been found wandering around the base of the Himalayas by a local farmer. He had no identification and no memory. The only thing he did have, was a lot of bruises, and a gash across his forehead.

Closing his eyes, Landon sighed and tried to focus on the face of the beautiful blonde. She was young with big blue eyes, and a gentle, loving smile. In his dreams, they were lovers. In his dreams, he had someone who cared about him.

If only real life was like that, he thought as he slowly drifted to sleep.