Chapter Eighteen

The room was dank and smelled terrible, but worse was the ringing in Kimberley’s ears. Whatever he’d done to her, Kim was rocking the worst damn migraine ever. She really hated this fucker.

“Bugs? Really? You think you are going to scare me with bugs?”

Kimberley shook her head as the pinched-faced man in the long black tunic ran a pale hand over his head. He’d been alternately threatening and pathetic far as she was concerned.

“Woman, I am telling you. You must translate the tablet or else,” he warned her.

Mustache-face kidnapper man muttered something in another language, pointing his bony hands at the bugs on the floor, and the vermin started screeching and writhing. Their many legs clattered on the cracked stone and Kimberley grimaced. Gross. But hardly the worse thing she’d ever seen.

Hellloooo. Archeologist.

Did he have any idea how many giant, gross, million-legged insects she’d come across on the job? She even had a huge tarantula for a pet in her office.