My Dad and I continued to visit Almasi and her twins frequently as lightworkers after that fateful evening. The babies were cooing, smiling and growing bigger by the end of the first week. However Almasi’s husband had still not returned so myself and Dad went in search of him after the second week. It turned out he’d gone to sell bags of corn from the harvest in the capital city, Nairobi, but his money was stolen on the way home, leaving him stranded. We found him living with a friend in a crowded shanty house, with barely any food to get by and told him the good news about his twin boys. He was so overjoyed that he cried uncontrollably for hours.
After listening to the story of what had happened to him, we decided to pay the thieves a visit the following day and ask them to return the money. We found them living in a massive mansion, surrounded by security cameras and pitbull dogs who were trained to attack anyone on sight. The grounds were so vast that half the people living in the shanty town could fit inside comfortably. Dad spoke to the spirit guide of the dogs and asked them to keep the animals quiet. We slipped inside the house without any trouble until we reached the living room.
It was very spacious and sparsely decorated with a few items of furniture such as sofas and rugs. The walls were bare with no artwork or photographs. The gang was spread out on the sofas, either smoking or sniffing drugs. I counted five of them in total. They looked wild and rough, as if they hadn’t showered for several days. The smell from the drugs, mixed with their unwashed bodies, hit my nostrils hard, causing me to gag. I buried my nose inside my elbow.
“Hello gentlemen,” said Dad.
They froze on the spot, as if trying to decide whether we were real or a hallucination. The leader of the gang, a middle aged man with several scars on his face, jumped up and shook himself like a bear.
“Who the hell are you? How the hell did you get in here?” He pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed firstly at me, then Dad.
“Gentlemen, we mean no trouble at all. We’ve come to collect the cash you stole a few days ago from the young farmer?”
“We’re the Vultures gang. We’ve stolen lots of cash. Which farmer would that be?” He threw his head back and laughed, joined by the other gang members.
“That is very bad, You shouldn't be doing that,” Dad said.
“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE COME HERE! YOU MADE A BIG MISTAKE AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!”
The gang members laughed and the sound cut through my head, leaving my skin cold. I couldn’t help but agree that we shouldn’t have come, at least not without a proper plan of defense. My hands trembled slightly as I realized that I wasn’t ready to die. Nobody had threatened to take my life before in all my visits as a lightworker. I felt the cold hand of fear rising through my spin for the first time in my life. However Dad stood calm, almost bored, but I saw the muscles in his jaw ticking.
Eventually when they finished laughing, the gang leader clicked the gun but the bullets didn’t fire. He clicked and shook the gun in the air before firing again but nothing happened.
“The gun is not working?” He asked no one in particular, pulling his eyebrows in confusion.
Dad grabbed the gun from him and smashed it on the floor. He stamped his foot on it several times and broke it into pieces. The man raised his arm to strike Dad but suddenly he dropped it and screamed in agony as if struck by an invisible force. He clutched his arm and cried out.
“MY ARM. . . MY ARM. . .”
“You’ve got one last chance to tell me where the cash is,” said Dad.
“VULTURES, GET HIM! KILL HIM, NOW!”
Two gang members sprang from the chair and tried to attack Dad but they never got close enough. They both stopped in mid step and screamed in agony, holding their arms in pain.
“MY HAND, IT’S ON FIRE. PLEASE. . . HELP.” They rolled on the floor until they collapsed. The pain must have been unbearable to force them to pass out.
The last two remaining gang members looked from Dad to their leader, who was now kneeling on the floor, and held up their hands in surrender.
“Are you ready to tell me where the cash is stored?”
They both shook their heads and pointed to the gang leader who had now recovered somewhat.
“Alright, for some reason I believe you. Looks like the main man over here is the only one who knows where the cash is kept. Are you going to tell me or you’re ready to suffer some more?”
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“Okay fine, I’ll show you. Just don’t hurt me anymore, please. It’s this way.” He pointed to a door at the back of the living room.
“What’s your name?”
“Castro.”
“Alright, Castro, lead the way.”
We followed Castro to the back of the house, passing several rooms along the way. The house was huge and I struggled to keep track of every door and turn. He led us into one of the rooms towards the back of the house. It was empty with no furniture or windows in sight. The light switch turned out to be a lever which opened the floor as soon as he pressed it.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!.” I screamed in shock as we fell through the ground for several minutes until we hit the floor. We landed deep underground in some kind of basement with no door or windows for escape. The only entrance or exit was the floor we fell through and there was no way to climb up. I heard Castro laughing, his voice echoing through the walls. The tunnel appeared to have claimed several victims. I saw the remains of human bones, all in various stages of decomposition on the floor.
“I can’t believe he just did that. Now I’m annoyed!” Dad said.
“Annoyed? Dad? How about being scared or afraid? This is way more than annoying. We’re trapped in some dark underground basement. How are we going to get out of here?”
“Relax and don't panic. Don’t forget you’re a lightworker and your body is asleep hundreds of miles away in Waterside Valley. No harm will ever come to you when you’re serving. By the way it looks like he’s left a few people here to starve to death.”
“Just how many people do you think he’s killed?”
“I would say hundreds by the look of these bones.” Dad grasped my hands in the dark. “Let's go through the walls, we’re going to materialize in the living room.”
“Of course, you’re right. Sorry I forgot.”
“On the count of three. One, two, three. . .”
We dissolved our bodies, scattering all the forces back to the elements and went through the walls to the living room before rematerializing again.
“OH MY GOD……” the gang leader, Castro, screamed when he saw us standing in the living room. Fear was written so clearly on his face that it would’ve been funny if the situation wasn’t so serious. The other members of his gang went down on their knees and lifted their arms.
“I’m going to ask you one last time, where is the cash?” Dad said.
Castro was shaking so badly that he couldn’t get words past his lips. He pointed up the ceiling.
“Bed. . . Bedroom.”
“In your bedroom? Lead the way and this time don’t even think about pulling any funny tricks. Rebecka, stay here and watch them.”
“Alright,” I nodded.
The other gang members fixed their eyes on me after Dad left with their leader. I wondered what they were thinking, although I could feel fear radiating off them in waves. One was visibly sweating, soaking his shirt.
“Why do you live this kind of life? Don’t you know by hurting others that you’re hurting yourself?”
They stared at me with blank, confused expressions and I wondered whether they understood English. I dismissed the thought immediately, of course they did.
“If you continue down this path, you can not live for much longer and you’ll stunt your spiritual development. The wages of sin is death.”
None of them replied but Dad chose that moment to return with Castro. He was carrying a massive bag full of cash.
“Since you don’t remember our farmer and how much money you took, I’m going to give him this bag. I want you to return the rest of the money upstairs to all the people you’ve stolen from.”
But. . .” Castro was about to protest but one look from Dad silenced him.
“Yes I know you’ll not remember the people you’ve stolen from because you’ve been high on drugs most of the time but I want you to make an effort to trace each of them. If you really can’t find them, then you have to give the money to charity.”
Castro’s eyes bulged wide and I thought for a moment he was going to be sick. He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it.
“I’m going to keep an eye on you from now on. Don’t even think of trying to escape, there is no place on earth that you could go where I wouldn’t see or find you. Goodbye. ”
Dad grabbed my hand and we disappeared before their eyes and entered the astral plane, making ourselves invisible to them.
“Let’s wait a while and see what they’ll do,” I suggested to Dad who gave a nod.
“Were they ghosts or angels?” One of the gang members asked Castro.
“Don’t be stupid, they’re angels,” Castro replied.
“I’m scared, I can’t stay in this house.”
“No, please wait. . .”
“No, I can’t —” He picked himself from the floor and ran out the room.
“Me too. . . this house is cursed.” The others followed swiftly one at a time, eventually leaving Castro by himself. He glanced around the room as if surprised to find himself alone. He bowed to the floor and wept, great fat tears rolling down his scared face. I nearly felt sorry for him until I remembered the bones in the basement.
“Mark has just told me that Castro’s going to change his life and the gang members you spoke to as well. Apparently we’ve made a great impact on them and they’ll not return to a life of crime.”
“That’s excellent.” I beamed in delight, happy to have made a difference.
“Alright, let’s go.”
We went back to find Almasi’s husband and gave him the bag of cash. He thanked us repeatedly until we left.