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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Three Things” Down in the Dirt, v186 (the August 2021 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Lockdown’s Over the Down in the Dirt May-August 2021 issues collection book		get the 420 page May-August 2021 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Finders Creepers

Mike Rader

    Once they mined tin in Ipoh. Now they mine for bodies. Not that Malaysians want to talk about it; some secrets are better left buried. Trouble is history has a habit of digging them up...

    The old city was once an outpost of the British Empire, its fortune resting on tin. Even today, its stately public buildings are apt to drop your jaw. The huge ornate white railroad station and hotel are straight out of the Raj. But Ipoh has another side — bizarre, surreal, like a moonscape with craters and unearthly ridges.
    Huge limestone hills ring the city like a fortress wall. Even in the outer suburbs, massive limestone outcrops rise from the nearby forest. Beside them, old tin mines are now vast craters, depthless water lapping around their rims. The Japanese army invaded Ipoh in December 1941. The British defenses crumbled in confusion. There’d been stories of massacres and bodies dumped in the lakes. Not that I’d ever seen any!
    Deep inside the limestone hills are famous old cave temples like Kek Lok Tong, the Cavern of the Utmost Happiness. And that’s what I’d come to explore today. I was visiting Ipoh for a week. There was always lots of business here for an investment banker from Singapore, and I had a spare afternoon. Exploring caves sounded intriguing — and a lot healthier than drinking in the hotel bar with my expatriate banker friends!
    However, trekking along with a noisy cluster of tourists soon got me on edge. After half an hour I left the marked path and ventured along a side tunnel. The rush of water grew louder with every step I took. My curiosity sharpened. Turning a corner, I came to an ancient underground river passage.
    I washed my flashlight over the walls, then into the river. It was impossible to tell how deep it was. It had a hypnotic quality — the moving water veiled by a fine mist, the echo of the mysterious tide reverberating around the limestone walls.
    Suddenly, something beneath the surface disturbed the waters.
    Startled, I stepped back from the edge as a shape emerged.
    A young woman rose from the flashing stream. She was clearly Malay, her long jet-black hair lost in the river depths. I had never seen a more beautiful creature in my life.
    “I have found you. Come with me,” she whispered. “I will love you forever.”
    My mind flipped. Malay mermaids living in caves just don’t exist! Neither do ghostly women with breathtaking bodies.
    Despite that, I heard myself answer, “I am married.”
    Her eyes met mine with a certain sadness. “No, you are not, Mr. Stanhope. Your wife died five minutes ago.”
    She seemed so certain. And she knew my name. Nothing made sense. I dug out my cellphone. No signal so deep underground. I shot her a parting glance, turned, and hurried back to the main path. I followed the signs. The minute I was out of the cave, my cell phone buzzed.
    The text message misted my eyes with tears. “Diane died five minutes ago,” the message from my CEO began. “A sudden heart attack. Our deepest —”
    Uncomprehendingly, I read the words again and again. A heart attack? A heart attack? It was impossible. Diane was a perfectly healthy woman. She was back in Singapore. This was her golf day with the other expatriate wives. How could she have died from a heart attack?
    You see, it wasn’t the way I’d planned it. What had gone wrong? It was supposed to have been a hit-and-run!
    I felt the walls of my life closing around me. The taste of panic, then raw terror, flooded my throat.
    I raced back into the cave. I needed answers. I pushed through the tourists, picked my way along the tunnel to the underground stream. As though on cue, the girl emerged again from the water.
    “How did you know about my wife?” I demanded.
    She stared up at me with sad moist eyes and said nothing.
    Anger fought fear inside me. “How did you know my wife had died? Who told you?”
    “Why are you grieving for her?” the girl challenged. “Didn’t you pay a lot of money to have her murdered while you were here?”
    “Who said?” I screamed back. “Don’t lie to me, goddammit! You must have found out somehow.” I was losing it. I wasn’t making sense. I shouted, “Did you have something to do with it? No, you couldn’t have. You’re just a dead woman who lives in a cave!”
    “Do not become angry.”
    “Stop playing games! Tell me the truth here! What’s happening?”
    “This is your fate. Do not resist it. I will not tell a living soul if you become mine.”
    No way! I wasn’t making a deal with the dead!
    I darted forward, hauled her out of the stream by her hair. “You’re never going to tell anyone about me!”
    Her beautiful white body, shining with water, struggled against the pressure of my arm around her neck. Horror claimed her eyes. Her mouth flew open in a scream. I tightened my grip. For the first time I noticed the bayonet marks in her belly. I heard the snap. Her body went slack in my arms.
    Before I knew what was happening, a shadow moved behind me. I caught a glimpse of an old-fashioned military uniform. Then I was under the water, torn along by the current, the naked girl still in my grasp. The water had a hollow sound as it emptied us into a vast underground crater. “Now,” she said in a cruel voice, “you will live with me forever ...”

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