“You survived,” Andrew said, and she made herself relax, not wanting to let him know anything was wrong. Not yet, not with Steven right behind her. “And look who else is awake.”
“Good morning.” The Russian had deep purple shadows under his eyes, and his blond stubble made him appear paler than normal, but Nat thought he was about the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. It was almost enough to make her forget about the backpack.
Almost.
“Good morning, Igor. Am I ever happy to see you.” Giving Steven a wide berth, she went to the Russian and hugged him gently around the chest and shoulders, careful not to jostle his leg. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore, but okay. Hungry.”
“I’ll take care of that right away.” She wished he could read her mind. Lana told you the truth. Steven is a predator. The Russian’s brow furrowed. He could tell she was troubled, but she was sure he didn’t know why. And unless Steven decided he needed to go back to his tent, there would be no opportunity to tell the others what she’d found.
“That’s all right. Why don’t you keep Igor entertained while I make breakfast? I really don’t mind. I’m kind of getting into this nurturing shit,” Steven said, ripping open a foil packet and pouring it into the cook pot, which was already full of boiling water.
“Are you sure?” She hoped her tone managed to convey, Don’t think this lets you off the hook.
“Yes, I’m sure. Let me be useful. That way I won’t get voted off the island.”
“I don’t think it’s us you have to impress,” Andrew said. “We’re not the ones doing the voting.”
“Are you okay?” Igor mouthed, and she squeezed his hand, while shaking her head the tiniest bit.
Not now. She cut her eyes to Steven, and trusted the Russian understood. More than anything, she wished he wasn’t injured. He was their protector, their muscle. If Steven decided to turn on them, to “vote them off,” who would stop him?
“So, Nat. You never did answer my question.”
It was all she could do to keep from cringing. Steven’s voice, which had been so welcome not that long ago, now set her teeth on edge. She met Andrew’s eyes, and he winked at her, back to his happy, playful self. He has my panties, she wanted to scream. He attacked Lana.
“Which question is that?” Andrew asked.
“Before you two sleeping beauties were awake, she mentioned that she hadn’t expected our new friends to be human in appearance, so I asked her if she got a good look at the one she killed, but she hasn’t answered me yet. Trying to keep me in suspense, I suppose.”
“No, I just forgot.” Her head spinning, it was impossible to focus, but finally the nightmare she’d seen the night before came back to her. The hooded patchwork-type coat, the glowing eyes, the metallic-sounding shrieks, like metal grating on metal. “Not really. I only saw its eyes.”
“What did they look like?” Igor asked. “I just saw its back, and then its arm as it sent me into space.” He shifted on the blankets, wincing. “I’m hoping I’ll be the last thing it sees, the fucker.”
“Nat killed it. Didn’t you know?” Andrew sounded thrilled to be the bearer of the good news. “It’s dead.”
“If it’s dead, why are we asking her what it looked like? Where is it?”
“Sadly, we don’t know.” Steven tapped his spoon against the side of the pot. “It disappeared while we were helping you. Along with Vasily.” His blue eyes pinned Nat to the spot. I had nothing to do with that.
But she wasn’t so sure. How could she be sure of anything now?
The Russian whistled under his breath. “Fuck.”
“Its eyes were yellow. Or maybe gold. No pupils that I could see.”
“That’s creepy,” Andrew said.
“Could you see its nose?” Igor asked, grinding his fist into his palm as though he’d love another shot at the creature.
“No. It was too dark, and it had that big hood. All I saw were the eyes. And believe me, that was enough.”
“Yellow eyes with no pupils. That doesn’t sound very human, does it?” Steven said. He smiled at her again, but there was no humor in it. In fact, it gave her the willies. In that moment, she would have gladly taken her chances with the creature.
“No. Not human at all.”
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
The food formed a lump in her stomach. Finding her underwear in Steven’s pack had killed her appetite, but they had so few meals left. She couldn’t waste it, even though every bite tasted like cardboard and she could feel his eyes burning into her.
She was so confused. At first, she’d thought Steven was the bad guy, then he’d been a good guy, and now he was the bad guy again. Maybe no one was good or bad, but a myriad of puzzling shades of gray.
“You have to leave me.”
Nat started when Igor spoke. The tension between her and Steven must have infected everyone else, because for the last while, everyone had stared into the fire in gloomy silence. Even Andrew appeared to be at a loss for words.
“What are you talking about?” he said now. “We’re not leaving you.”
“You have to. It’s the smart thing to do.” He gestured at his blanket-covered leg, and Nat realized they still had no idea how bad the injury was. She hoped the bone hadn’t broken through the skin, increasing the Russian’s chances of infection. “I can’t walk, and you guys have to leave. You have to get out of here today. They’ll return tonight, wanting revenge for their friend. If you stay, you’ll die.”
Andrew got that stubborn expression on his face she was all too familiar with. “We’re not leaving you to die.”
“He’s right, so you might as well stop talking nonsense, Igor,” she said, lending her will to Andrew’s before Steven could speak up and say that actually, abandoning one of the last remaining members of their group was a capital idea. “If you’re not going, we’re not going.”
“You can hide me. Hide me in that ravine Andrew’s talking about. Splint my leg, and maybe I’ll manage to survive until it heals enough for me to leave. That gives me as good a chance as I’d have trying to get down the mountain with you.”
Right, the ravine. “What ravine?”
“The ravine—you know, the one Lyudmila and her friends hid in.” Andrew’s eyes shone the way they always did when he thought he’d come up with a brilliant idea.
“Have you forgotten what happened to Lyudmila?” The memory was enough to make her stomach churn. All that blood she’d swallowed, proving the poor girl had still been alive when her tongue and the inside of her mouth were removed.
“They survived the longest. It might buy us a night or two, maybe more. Plus, we don’t know what happened. Maybe they made too much noise or something, and that’s how the creatures found them. We wouldn’t make any noise.”
The prospect of hiding in Lyudmila’s grave was far from comforting. “Andy, we have no idea where the ravine is. And, even if we manage to find it—and that’s a big if—what if the creatures remember where they found Lyudmila and her friends? What if that’s the first place they think to look?”
“I’m assuming they have life cycles. They bleed, they hurt, they die—they’re not immortal. They’re not magic. It’s unlikely that the ones who are terrorizing us are the same ones who murdered the Dyatlov group.”