Andrew’s face reddened. “It was just an idea.”
“We’re basically fucked then, is what you’re telling us, yah? We have no chance.”
At Igor’s words, Nat’s mouth went dry.
Snowmen or not, some animal was out there, and it didn’t sound friendly. She squirmed on the makeshift bench as her panic intensified. She didn’t want to die; she wasn’t ready. She had so many plans, so much left to do. “Why don’t we take our chances with the mountain? It may be dark and cold, but it’s better than sitting here waiting to die, isn’t it?”
Steven shook his head. “They could be waiting for us out there, Nat. Guaranteed they know these mountains a hell of a lot better than we do. And if they’re nocturnal hunters, they might be able to see in the dark as well.”
“Well, what then? Sitting here doing nothing is driving me crazy.”
Another chorus of howls made her jump. “Jesus Christ, that’s awful.”
“Vasily? If you’re right about what these things are, you know the most about them. What do you suggest we do?” Andrew asked. The Mansi thought for a moment before raising his sad, brown eyes to her producer.
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do. They’ve gotten a taste for our blood.”
“But Anubha, Joe, and Lana were killed, not eaten.” Nat refused the memory of poor Anubha’s mutilated face and Lana’s contorted body. “It doesn’t seem like they’re using us for food. They could be killing us out of anger for encroaching on their territory, like Vasily said.”
“Or maybe they enjoy it now, like the lions of Tsavo,” Steven added. “The lions started out killing people for food, but ended up doing it for sport. For fun.”
Andrew sighed. “I’d always hoped that if another sentient primate was discovered, it would have more sense than us, not less. But that sounds like us.”
“Not to quibble over semantics, but there’s no proof that these creatures are primates. Yetis have been described as resembling apes, but that might be because it’s our only frame of reference for creatures that walk upright. The truth is, we know nothing about these animals or where they come from.” Steven darted a look over his shoulder as a particularly shrieking cry pierced the air. “How are we supposed to fight an animal we know nothing about?”
There had to be something they could do. They were five skilled, intelligent people. Igor possessed incredible strength and size. Vasily was shrewd, with experience living in these mountains and surviving alongside the creatures, whatever they were. She and Andrew were talented problem solvers who could think on their feet. And Steven… well, she supposed he could always argue the creatures to death. What on earth had Lana seen in him, assuming he was telling the truth about that? Talk about polar opposites.
Maybe the key to their survival was hidden in the Dyatlov story, the reason they were there in the first place. “Let’s go over what we know about the Dyatlov Pass incident. Judging by the condition of the tent and the way some of the bodies were poorly dressed for the elements, we can assume they were surprised during the night. For some reason, they couldn’t leave normally, or they didn’t feel safe doing so, so they cut through the nylon and escaped, running for the forest where we found Anubha and Joe.”
“And the first bodies the searchers found were bruised and showed signs of a struggle,” Steven said.
“Yes, just like Anubha, Joe, and Lana. So what does that tell us?” Nat had the odd sensation she was teaching a kindergarten class.
“The tents aren’t safe,” Igor said. “We’d be resting ducks.”
“Sitting ducks, but close enough. Also, face-to-face confrontations don’t work. If they did, Krivonischenko and Doroshenko would have survived. As would Anubha and Joe.” She wracked her brain. There had to be a solution, some way out of this. But what?
“Maybe they weren’t strong enough. Maybe someone like me would have a better chance.”
“I wouldn’t want to risk it, Igor. What if there’s two, or three, or ten of them?” Andrew patted the Russian’s arm. “Every man has his limits.”
“The ones who lived the longest were the ones found under the snow,” Nat said.
She saw a spark of recognition in Steven’s eyes. “The ones who hid.”
“Exactly. Unlike the Dyatlov group, we don’t need weeks. We need to survive this one night, and then we can start making our way out of here. Maybe we’ll run into a blizzard; maybe we’ll starve. Maybe we’ll get lost and fall off the side of the mountain. But we have to try. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not ready to die.”
“Vasily? What do you think?” Steven asked. “You know these creatures better than anyone.”
“It could work, if we had a good place to hide. But fighting, there is no chance. They are too strong.” The Mansi stood and stretched. “We need to hurry. We are running out of time. It might already be too late.”
“But where do we go? Where do we hide?” The anxiety on Andrew’s face mirrored her own. It was dark and freezing, and they were surrounded by forest, a forest the creatures would be much more comfortable in and familiar with. A forest that held the corpses of their friends. It was tempting, so tempting, to crawl inside her nice, warm tent, get into her sleeping bag, and close her eyes. Had the Dyatlov group thought the same? Had they heard the howling but thought they’d be safe in their temporary homes?
“I believe I know a place that would work, but everyone needs to gather whatever supplies they can: blankets, warm clothing, food. It may be a while before we can come back.” Vasily checked over his shoulder, just as a loud snarl made all of them jump. It sounded close. Dangerously close. “Hurry, hurry. There is not much time.”
Without waiting to see if anyone agreed, the Mansi sprinted for his tent.
“If no one has any better ideas, I’d suggest we do as he says.” Steven studied their faces, as though hoping someone did have a better idea. No one jumped to the challenge.
“At the end of the day, he’s our guide. It’s his job to keep us safe. I think we should listen to him,” Nat said, and she was relieved when even Igor nodded. “Grab whatever you think will be useful and we’ll meet back in five.”
Sadly, they didn’t have five.
As it turned out, they didn’t even have three.
~ Chapter Sixteen ~
Panic didn’t make a two-person tent easier to negotiate. After colliding with Andrew three times, she seized him by the upper arms.
“You—over there,” Nat said, gesturing toward the back of the tent. “You stay in your corner, and I’ll stay in mine.”
“But some of my stuff is over there.”
She snorted. “Do you think it matters at this point whose stuff is whose? Grab anything that looks useful and we’ll sort it out later.”
He hesitated, which unfortunately meant he kept blocking her path. “What if you forget something important?”
“I won’t; I swear. You’ll have to trust me. Now get.”
True to her word, she scooped up Andrew’s vast array of supplements and ointments and crammed them into her bag, though she knew Steven would have her head if he found out. Fuck him. He was done being the boss of her. Never should have been in the first place.
Bandages, nasal spray, extra socks, granola bars. Everything went into the pack. Nat’s hands shook as she squashed it as flat as she could. They’d need all the room they could get.
“Hey, Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“Have room for this?”
It was Andrew’s special travel pillow. Real goose down, from elusive Swiss geese or something like that. She didn’t pause. Why not? It would probably be miserable enough where they were going. “Sure, fire it over.”
Squashing the pillow into the pack’s front pocket was more challenging than she’d expected. Nat was so consumed with the chore that it took her a moment to realize she no longer sensed movement from Andrew’s half of the tent. She looked up to see him scribbling on a piece of paper.