“Where, Vasily?” Igor asked. The Russian wasn’t laughing. Somehow, talk of yetis seemed a little less ridiculous in the Ural Mountains, a short trek away from their colleagues’ mutilated bodies. “You have seen them here?”
The Mansi poked at the fire with a stick. “No, in my village. When the winter is very, very difficult, they come to feed. Generations ago, they terrorized us. Murdered our children and destroyed our livestock. But now, we are prepared. We leave sacrifices for them. We respect them and they respect us.”
“Sacrifices? Not people?” Lana cried.
Vasily frowned, looking at her as though she were insane. “No, not people. We are not monsters. We leave fresh meat for them. Usually yak.” He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Many yak. It is very difficult for my village to sacrifice so much, but it is better than letting them take what they want. We have an uneasy peace.”
“And when Anubha and Joe set traps here, they broke that peace?” Steven asked.
“Yes. I tried very much to warn them, but they would not listen to me. I only hope their actions will not hurt my people.”
Nat swallowed hard. She’d heard a lot of bizarre stories through her work on Nat’s Mysterious World, and had always tried to keep an open mind. But yetis? Perhaps there was another, more human explanation.
“Couldn’t they be another tribe who dresses like snow creatures in order to scare people away? Like Vikings?”
“They are bigger than any human man. Stronger, too. We have seen them crush cars, pull roofs off houses. Their voices will turn your blood to ice.”
It sounded like a fairy story, albeit one written by the Brothers Grimm. “But if you knew they were here, Vasily, why did you agree to this trip? Why didn’t you warn us?”
“It would be the same as the other groups. No one believes until it is too late. Besides, it has never been a problem before. No one else try to hunt here.”
Steven cleared his throat. “I guess we know what happened to the Dyatlov group now.”
“You don’t seriously believe this, do you?” Lana asked. “Yetis are a story told to scare children. They don’t actually exist.”
“Perhaps you should go back to the forest and take a closer look at our friends. Tell me if you think an animal did that to them. Or a person, for that matter.”
“Let us not be disrespectful to our Mansi friend. He grew up in these mountains. He has told us what he has seen. We would do well to listen to him,” Igor said.
The Olympian colored. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Vasily. I meant no disrespect. It’s just so hard to believe.”
Vasily tipped his head. “I understand. The snowmen are our reality, but they have not been yours until now. Suddenly, we have a shared problem.”
Surprised Andrew had been silent for so long, Nat panicked when she saw her friend slumped over, his chin resting on his chest. Closer inspection showed his breathing was deep and even. He had fallen asleep.
“Will they let us leave? What if we made them some food?” Steven asked.
“They usually eat entire yaks. I don’t think a few packets of dehydrated beef stroganoff will appease them.”
“It may not satisfy them, Lana. But it might act as a peace offering, a show of good faith, especially when they see we’re not hunters. What do you think, Vasily?”
The Mansi shrugged. “It is worth a try. Perhaps they feel killing the others will be enough retribution.”
Steven stood up and stretched. “That’s good enough for me. We have to do something, since we’re obviously not going anywhere tonight.”
“We might not be going anywhere tomorrow, either,” Lana reminded him. “It depends on Andrew. He may need more rest.”
The mountaineer paused from where he was rifling through Joe’s pack. “I assume you’ve heard the phrase, ‘survival of the fittest.’”
His words hit Nat like a slap across the face. Wrapping an arm around Andrew, she pulled her sleeping friend close. “We are not leaving him here to die.”
“Would you have all of us die instead? Is that a better solution?”
“I will carry him down the mountain if I have to. We will leave here together,” Igor said.
“Thank you.” She gave the Russian a grateful smile. “Happy to see one guy who isn’t a soulless prick.”
“Hey, I’m not trying to be an asshole here. I’m the one trying to buy us more time. But this has turned into a matter of survival. And since it’s a life-and-death situation, what you’re suggesting doesn’t make sense.” Steven returned to the fire, tossing several packets of beef tips in gravy onto the snow.
Lana wrinkled her nose. “I’d quit while you’re ahead, Steven. Nat is right. You are sounding like a prick, and that’s a kind way of putting it.”
“Look, I like Andrew. We all do. But if he can’t leave, and we stay here with him, he’ll still die. And the rest of us will die with him.”
“You do not know that. We don’t know enough about these creatures,” Igor said. “I will not abandon any one of you. I would rather die with honor than live with that shame.”
“Then I’ll say the same to you that I said to her.” Steven tipped his chin at Lana. “You need to go have a good look at what’s left of Joe and Anubha.”
The horrible vision of Anubha’s devastated face invaded Nat’s brain before she could prevent it. She pressed her hands over her ears. “Stop it. Just stop it.”
“It’s only fair, Nat. If they’re going to volunteer to get us killed, they deserve to see what’s coming. They should have all the information, don’t you think?”
Her lip curled. “Sometimes I really hate you. I wish you’d never come on this trip.”
“Someone has to tell the truth, and that role’s fallen to me. I didn’t choose it,” he said, sounding hurt. Good to know he actually had feelings.
“There’s a difference between telling the truth and being nasty, a distinction you apparently fail to grasp. Next you’ll be claiming you’re a realist.” She really did hate people like Steven—people who only saw the worst in everyone, who infected the world around them with their gloom and doom. That was the last thing they needed up here.
He widened his eyes. “I am a realist. What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re not a realist; you’re a pessimist. That’s the problem. People like you never know the difference.”
“And you’re incredibly selfish.”
Lana gasped. “Steven!”
“What? It’s okay for her to insult me, but I can’t say she’s selfish?” He pointed at Nat, his finger stabbing the frigid air. “This is your expedition. For better or worse, you are supposedly leading this team, and that makes everyone’s health and well-being your responsibility. Two people are dead, and we have our guide telling us that the longer we stay, the worse everyone’s chances of survival are. Your priority should be saving as many lives as you can, not sacrificing everyone for your precious producer.”
Nat sucked in a breath, hoping against hope Andrew was still asleep. “I’m sorry if I don’t value his life less because he works for me. I wouldn’t abandon you either, as disagreeable as you are.”
“No one needs to be abandoned. If Igor is willing to carry Andrew with our help, what’s the problem?” Lana asked. “We don’t need to fight about this. We shouldn’t be fighting about anything. We should be working together. And I still think we should build a sled.”
At least the Olympian was thinking clearly. Steven had no clue how to survive with people. Nat was willing to bet the mountaineer had never lived with anyone, aside from his parents.