“I thought you weren’t supposed to move people,” Andrew whispered. “What if his back is broken?”
“Well, I don’t see any paramedics here, do you? We have no choice.” She bent over Igor again, brushing his sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. “How are you feeling? Up to moving by the fire?”
“The fire would be nice. I-I’m freezing.”
His teeth chattered, although his skin was hot to the touch. Great. Did that mean he was in shock? What were you supposed to do for people in shock? She wished she’d taken more courses, or at least paid better attention to the ones she had.
“Hang on. Steven’s gone to get a blanket we can use as a kind of sled. We’ll try our best not to hurt you, but it’s probably going to hurt a bit, okay?”
“Okay.” He gripped her hand with surprising strength. No spinal injury, then. He could wiggle his toes and control his upper body. It was a relief, though a broken leg would make traversing the mountain all but impossible. Still, it could have been so much worse.
Steven returned with a wool blanket. Taking off his belt, he held it up to the Russian’s mouth. Igor stared at him in confusion. “Bite this so you don’t scream. We don’t know how many more creatures are out there, and we certainly don’t want to call any of them.”
As Igor took the belt between his teeth, Nat had the overwhelming sensation she was in a movie. How many times had she seen some Western or action flick where a man bit down on a belt to keep from crying out? She’d never expected to experience it in real life.
When the second blanket was spread flat on the snow, the three paused for a moment, examining their patient. How would they move him without killing him? Igor had to weigh at least two hundred and twenty pounds, maybe more. He was a huge man, a mountain of muscle. Andrew hadn’t yet regained his strength, so it would be up to her and Steven. She saw her own doubts reflected in the mountaineer’s eyes.
“Can you roll onto the blanket, buddy?” Steven knelt at Igor’s feet, holding the blanket straight.
“I can try.”
Grunting, Igor half rolled, half scooted onto the blanket. His jaw clenched as he clamped down on the belt, and the sweat poured off him. Once he’d made it, he flopped straight back, panting.
“You’re amazing, man. You’re a machine.” Andrew clapped.
Nat had broken her wrist before, and she well remembered the sickening pain, the waves of nausea. She couldn’t imagine how much worse a broken leg would be.
“Are you all right, Igor?”
He spit the leather from his teeth. “Yah, I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.”
“Once we get some momentum going, pulling him should be fairly easy,” Steven said. “But I’m worried about Vasily.”
“Do you want to check on him now? Andrew can go with you while I stay with Igor.”
“No, let’s not split up again. We’ll deal with this first, and then look for Vasily.”
Nat shuddered, picturing the creature dragging the Mansi from his tent. Vasily had been terrified, but he hadn’t appeared to be hurt. She hoped she was right about that.
“Okay, let’s get this party started.” Igor propped himself up on his elbows while Andrew rearranged a blanket over his body. Steven and Nat each picked up a corner of the cloth near the Russian’s feet, while Andrew stood behind his back, ready to help when and however necessary. At Steven’s nod, he held the belt so Igor could take it between his teeth again.
“Let’s do this slow and gentle. If we go too fast, we could end up pulling this thing right out from under him.”
For once she didn’t feel an urge to hit Steven for stating the obvious. His voice was soothing and she needed to be soothed. “Right.”
“On the count of three. One… two… three.”
At first, nothing happened. Nat leaned into it until her back strained and her vertebrae popped, and then slowly, slowly, the blanket began to move. Her feet slipped in the snow as she struggled to get traction.
“You all right?” Steven asked, but she had no excess energy left to speak. She managed a grunt while Igor moaned.
“You’re doing great, buddy. Doing great. Almost there.” Andrew was at his most encouraging. “Guys, he’s not looking so good. Can we move a little faster?”
Steven had been right. Now that they’d gotten started, it was much easier to pull, but they needn’t have worried about yanking the blanket out from under the Russian. The man was too heavy. They steadily picked up speed, closing the distance between the trailhead and the fire. Within a minute or two, Nat could feel the welcoming heat on her skin. She helped the mountaineer pull Igor alongside.
The Russian had looked better in the dark. In the flickering light of the fire, his skin was gray. She hoped it was an illusion. Sweat poured down his face as he gasped for air. Lowering herself to the snow, she stroked his head. “Andrew, can you get me a towel, please?”
He nodded and ran off while the Russian continued to moan. “Don’t worry, Igor. We’re going to splint your leg. Hopefully that will help with the pain.”
“No…” he managed, wincing. “No, please. Not yet.”
“Okay, we’ll wait for a bit. Try to relax. Are you comfortable? Well, as much as you can be?” Andrew was back with the towel, and Nat used it to wipe off Igor’s face. She was struck by how young he was. In pain and helpless, he looked closer to his actual age of twenty-four than usual. She’d forgotten he wasn’t much more than a kid. Although she wasn’t a religious person, she said a quick prayer in her mind that she would be able to return Igor to his family, whole and healthy.
“Nat?”
“Mmm-hmm?” Steven had been so quiet she’d forgotten he was there.
“We have a problem.”
“What is it?” she asked, though she’d have given anything not to know. Ignorance was most definitely bliss, but it was also a luxury she couldn’t afford.
“I went ahead and checked on Vasily. He’s gone. Along with his gun. The creature you killed is gone too.”
And then there were four.
~ Chapter Seventeen ~
Steven sat beside Igor with the blood-encrusted knife in his hand. His attention moved to her when she stirred.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
“Good morning.”
At the sight of him sitting there, keeping watch while the rest of them slept, guilt overwhelmed her. Taking a deep breath to steady her voice, she surveyed the campsite and noticed the towering pile of wood heaped just beyond the fire.
“Wow, you’ve been busy.”
“I can’t take the credit for that. I was too scared to leave you, so Andrew did it.”
Andrew. She glanced at her sleeping producer, her best friend. He was zonked out, mouth open, snoring away. Whoever would have thought that could sound beautiful?
“That took some balls, going back in the forest last night.” As nice as the stockpile was, she wished he hadn’t taken the risk.
“He stuck to the outskirts. Took a lot of courage, though. Not sure I could have done it.”
Pushing her sleeping bag from her legs as quietly as she could, she tensed when the cold air hit her sleep-warmed body. She stepped around Andrew to sit beside the mountaineer, holding her hands to the fire.
“That’s nice of you to say, but we both know you’re the bravest person here.”
He gave her a bemused smile. “I thought I was the Antichrist.”
“I’m so sorry, Steven. For doubting you, and for accusing you. I’m—I’m ashamed at how we treated you.”
“It’s okay. I think a situation like this would make anyone paranoid. And it’s not like I gave you any reason to trust me.” He stared at the fire, not meeting her eyes.
“Even so. A troll and a murderer are two different things.”