Ayden Roy got back his consciousness and found himself in a thatched hut. He tried to get up but he could not. "Arrgghhh fucckk", he writhed in pain. He was lying on a log of wood, carved like a bed. And for comfort there was hay on it, underneath his body. He looked around wondering where he was and who put him like this. Was he a captive of the criminals? He could not understand. He tried to sit up again resting on the left arm elbow but he failed and fell flat on the hay. And he saw a scantily clad black woman walked in the hut uttering the words that were beyond his imagination and understanding. But from her expression he could make out that he was in safe hands as she came close to him and caressed his forehead, pulled him up to sit down, resting his back on the wooden plank kept behind him on that piece of wooden log. While doing so she didn’t even bother if his face was clasped between her huge soft bosoms. He kind of felt safe with that gesture from her.