“Don’t forget rapist.”
Her hand flew up to cover her face. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I was a total shit to you.”
He bumped his shoulder against hers. “It’s okay, really. I’m glad you see the truth now, because we’re not going to survive this unless we work together.”
Nat looked over at Igor, but the man was so covered with blankets and sleeping bags she couldn’t see his face. “How’s he doing?”
“Okay, I think. His coloring is a lot better this morning, and his breathing sounds good. Hopefully it’s a clean break and we can get it set today. It’s not ideal, but it won’t be fatal.”
Now that she could view it in the light of dawn, their campsite resembled the aftermath of a horror movie. There were pools of dark crimson around her tent and Vasily’s, and more blood leading away from the scene. The tattered side of her tent flapped in the wind.
“Seems familiar, doesn’t it?” He gestured at her tent, which had been sliced cleanly open.
“Dyatlov’s.”
“You know, it’s always bothered me, that cut in the side of the tent. It drove me crazy, wondering why they didn’t leave through the entrance.”
“And now we know.”
“All that talk about avalanche paranoia and infrasound making them insane, and it was yetis the whole time,” Steven said.
“Do you think that’s what that thing was? A yeti?”
“What else would you call it?”
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold in spite of the fire’s warmth when she thought of those gold eyes. She’d only caught a glimpse of them, but a glimpse had been more than enough. “I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t expect them to be so humanoid. I’d always thought yetis would be covered with fur.”
“Did you get a look at the one you killed?”
“Did I kill it, though? I thought I did—put that knife right through its eye.” She shuddered at the memory. “But if it’s dead, where did it go?”
“I think the others took it, along with Vasily. They can’t leave any bodies behind. If there are bodies, there’s proof.” Steven stirred the embers, quietly adding more wood.
“Shit. I was hoping there was only the one.”
“Wishful thinking, but you heard the howls last night. I’m thinking there’s a pack of them.”
“Fuck. What are we going to do?” That desperate, I-don’t-want-to-die panic caught her by the throat again, making it difficult to speak.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. We can’t leave today, obviously.” Steven’s gaze settled on the blanket-wrapped mound that was Igor. “So I guess we’ll have to hide.”
“Hide where?”
“What about the ravine?” Andrew sat up, startling them both.
Nat pressed her hand against her chest, silently willing her heart to keep beating. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, we tried not to wake you,” Steven said.
“It’s okay. The sun did a fine job of that on its own.” Andrew yawned and stretched. “What time is it?”
Steven checked his watch before squinting at the sun, pretending to study it. “I don’t know… around eight?”
“Very funny. I can’t believe I slept that long. I didn’t think I’d be able to close my eyes after everything that happened.”
“Well, you got a lot of exercise yesterday.” Nat tilted her head at the woodpile. “Nice work, by the way.”
“Thanks. Yeah, it figures. I’m finally in the shape I’ve always wanted to be, and there’s no one around to appreciate it.”
Steven stood up from the log. “Now that the two of you are up, guess I might as well start breakfast.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Let me do it this time. There’s no reason you have to cook for us every day.”
“I don’t mind, but since you insist…”
“I insist. Where’s the stuff?”
“It’s in Joe’s backpack, in my tent.” Seeing her hesitation, he asked, “Want me to get it?”
Mentally shaking herself, she stood, eyeing Steven’s tent like it was a guillotine. “No, it should be fine. It’s daylight and we’re all here; what could go wrong?”
Andrew tsk-tsked under his breath. “Don’t tempt fate, Nat.”
It was silly. Clearly, there was nothing ominous about the tent. She’d be able to see a creature lurking outside, or even inside, and Steven was right there with the knife. Andrew would never let anything happen to her. So what was she afraid of?
Squaring her shoulders, Nat forced herself to adopt her most confident walk, putting a little swing in her hips. She knew both men were watching her. For some reason it was important to show them that she could do this simple thing without their help.
The sour-sweet smell of blood made her wrinkle her nose as she got closer. She averted her eyes, hoping it wasn’t Vasily’s. Steven’s tent gave off a seriously bad vibe; there was no doubt about it. She could tell herself she was being ridiculous, or that it was her imagination getting carried away, but her instincts hadn’t steered her wrong so far. It would be foolhardy to mistrust them now.
“You sure you don’t want me to get it?” Steven called.
“I’m fine.” She unzipped the flap.
His tent was dim and musky with the smell of man. Nat blinked, waiting a second or two for her eyes to adjust. Grabbing the first backpack she saw, she knelt and unzipped it, but as she started going through it, she quickly saw it was the wrong one.
The main compartment was full of underwear: lacy, silky, girly things. Not what you’d expect a man to bring on a camping trip. Still, everyone had their kink. Who was she to judge Steven’s? As she stuffed the panties back inside, her face burning, she spotted one pair that didn’t belong. Gray, sporty boy shorts. Hers. She hadn’t noticed they were missing.
“Are you having trouble finding it?”
Nat jumped, biting her lip so she wouldn’t cry out. She barely had time to cram her underwear back in the bag before Steven lifted the tent flap and stepped inside. “Yeah, I think I’ve got the wrong pack.”
Their eyes met, and she saw he knew what she’d seen. What would he do? Would he lie, or come up with some lame excuse for stealing her underwear? She was relieved the knife wasn’t in his hand. Hopefully he’d left it with Andrew.
“Find anything interesting?”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
He took the bag from her hands. “That’s Lana’s pack. Joe’s is over here.”
“Oh.” While he was turned away getting Joe’s bag, she took a steadying breath. Why would Lana have her underwear? And how stupid did Steven think she was? Lana’s pack had been fire-engine red. Steven’s was black.
“Breakfast burrito or beef tips?”
“Huh?”
Steven smiled at her, his teeth reminding her of a shark’s. “We’re not exactly spoiled for choice anymore. After yesterday’s attempt, I’m not sure I could stomach another breakfast burrito. Think anyone will complain about the beef tips? They’re not technically breakfast food.”
Beef tips. Fuck. Was everything that came out of his mouth going to sound like a euphemism now? She cleared her throat. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I think we’re all just feeling lucky to be alive at this point.”
“True. All right, executive decision. Beef tips it is.” He pulled the silver packets from Joe’s pack. “Hope you’re not offended I came to check on you. I realized how many bags I have in here. It can get confusing if you don’t know what’s what.”
He could say that again. It was damn confusing. “No problem. I understand.”
She was eager to leave the tent, uneasy about Steven’s following behind. The cold air was beautiful and fresh after spending a few minutes in that dank, foul-smelling cave. Ugh. What if Lana had told Igor the truth about Steven’s coming into her tent uninvited? Now that she thought about it, her face flushed with shame. How could she have ever doubted Lana? Lana wouldn’t have lied about something like that. And here Nat had suspected her of playing two men at the same time. She felt terrible.