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  “Well, that was never going to happen,” Steven said, and everyone laughed. Even Vasily cracked a smile.

  “Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other. So we might as well make the best of it and try to survive. Igor, buddy, can you please put that knife away? You’re making me nervous.” Andrew slung his arm around Steven’s shoulders, and Nat wasn’t sure if it was out of affection or to protect him from the Russian. “What’s for dinner?”

  “I’m no Joe, obviously, but I’d suggest we crack open the cans of pork and beans. That way, we’ll be without their weight tomorrow. Sound good?”

  “You’re asking for our opinion?” Nat feigned shock.

  “Sure, there’s a first time for everything,” Steven said with a grin, thankfully taking her shot in the way it was meant.

  Perhaps Igor’s outburst, as terrifying as it was, had done some good.

  “I think that sounds fantastic,” Andrew said with more enthusiasm than canned beans deserved. “Igor, my friend, does that suit you?”

  “Yah, I could eat.” The Russian returned to his place by the fire, stabbing the knife into the ground by his feet. With the weapon taken out of play, Nat found she could breathe again, though her mind was spinning. How had she missed the drama between Lana, Igor, and Steven? She’d seen some flirting, but she’d thought that was the extent of it. Poor Lana. Had she pitted the two men against each other and died because of it? Or had she told Igor the truth? Even if Steven weren’t a predator, he wouldn’t have been the first man to have read a woman’s signals wrong.

  Nat’s eyes filled at the thought of the vivacious Olympian. She missed the woman’s sense of humor, her bright and easy chatter. From the start, Lana had provided much-needed comic relief. Nat doubted things would have gotten this dark if she’d been with them.

  With supper sorted and Steven once again agreeing to cook for them, Andrew moved to sit beside her, bringing her close in a one-armed hug. She rested her head on his shoulder, using it as an excuse to hide her tears.

  “I know,” he said. “I miss her too.”

  ~ Chapter Fifteen ~

  The howling began in earnest that night. The ominous cries echoed over the campsite, chilling Nat in spite of her heavy parka, as the group’s five remaining members clustered around the fire. She shivered in tandem with Andrew, who crouched beside her on the overturned log.

  “Those aren’t wolves,” Igor said.

  The color drained from Vasily’s face. “No,” he agreed. “Not wolves. It is the snowmen.”

  Nat braced herself for another outburst from the Russian about how the yetis were a fairy story, but the man kept his peace. Then again, it would have been difficult to argue with that horrible baying going on around them.

  Removing her phone from her pocket, she hit the power button, only to be rewarded with a blank screen. “Fuck.”

  “Are you planning to record this?” Andrew asked. “Good idea.”

  “Well, I wanted to, but the battery’s dead. I’ll have to use the power packs to charge it.” She left the rest of the sentence unsaid. No way she felt comfortable going back to the tent by herself.

  “I think I should stay with you and Andrew tonight,” Igor said, as if reading her mind. “It’s not safe for us to be separated.”

  “What about me?” Steven asked.

  “You can stay with Vasily. Perhaps your combined knowledge of yetis will protect you.” The Russian stuck out his tongue.

  “Very funny, but that’s not fair. You have the only weapon,” the mountaineer said. There was a frantic expression on his face that made Nat nervous.

  “Vasily has his rifle. Besides, what happened to Lana wasn’t fair.” Igor shrugged.

  “I told you, I had nothing to do with that. I loved her, okay? You happy now? I fucking loved her. I was going to ask her to move to California with me.”

  Nat’s mouth dropped open, but before she could speak, there was another chorus of howls. Now she could hear snarling as well. Whatever was making that dreadful sound was getting closer.

  “Please, please be quiet.” Vasily raised his hands in the air. “You are going to get us all killed with your fighting.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t even go to bed tonight. Seems like that would make it easier for them, offering ourselves like pigs in a blanket,” Andrew said.

  Seeing Steven and Igor were on the verge of tearing each other apart, it was up to Nat to respond. “We aren’t much safer out here.”

  “Aren’t we? We could build the fire higher, make some torches. The torches could be our weapons, or maybe Vasily would let us take turns with his gun. At least out here we’d see what was coming. I don’t know about you guys, but there’s no way I’d get a wink of sleep, lying in that tent, wondering about who or what was creeping up on me.”

  Andrew’s idea had some merit. She hadn’t relished going inside for the night either. The image of Dyatlov’s tent with its ruined side kept coming back to her. If their group hadn’t gone to sleep that night, would they still be alive? “Sounds good to me. What do you guys think?”

  “If they want to hurt us, they will hurt us,” Vasily said. “It matters not whether we are inside the tent or outside.”

  “We can at least present a united front. Maybe if they see we’re ready to fight, they’ll leave us alone.” Andrew selected a long stick from the firewood pile and stuck the tip of it into the fire. Nat guessed he was seeing how it would fare as a torch. “Maybe they’ve sensed weakness, and that’s why they’ve been attacking us. Divide and conquer, and all that.”

  “They would snap that silly thing in half.” Vasily curled his lip at the sight of Andrew’s stick. “You do not understand what we are dealing with. These creatures have brute strength, and they are not dumb animals. You can’t scare them off by waving a torch around.”

  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.

  “Andy, what on earth are you doing?”

  He grinned. “Leaving a note for our rescuers.”

  What rescuers? Unlike Igor Dyatlov, she hadn’t promised anyone a telegram. Or an email, for that matter. Out of the entire group, the first person to be missed would likely be Vasily. He was the one with family at home.

  Andrew handed her the note.

  From now on we know that snowmen exist.

  “Very funny. How can you treat this as a joke?” But she knew. There was a feeling of unreality to the whole thing that made it difficult to take seriously. She’d been fighting the giggles all day, even after seeing Lana’s poor battered body. Hysteria, that’s what it was. They were all on the verge of hysteria.

  “I don’t know, Nat. Okay, obviously there’s some kind of animal out there. I can hear them. That, I believe. Wolves, sure. Maybe some as-yet-undiscovered arctic hyena. But yetis? Abominable snowmen? Are we really going there?”

  “Yeah, I think we are. Look, I get how bizarre this sounds—”

  That’s when they heard the screams.

  Nat tore out of the tent, tripping over the threshold. Andrew was right behind her.

  She froze on the spot, unable to move or cry out.

  “What the fuck is that?” he breathed in her ear.

  Some monstrous, hulking thing was dragging Vasily from his tent by the legs. The creature was massive, seven or eight feet tall. It wore a hooded coat of some kind of hide and had fur gloves on its hands. Nat couldn’t see its face.

  The Mansi shrieked, pleading for his life in his own language. Some things needed no translation.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. This was happening. It was really happening. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.

  From now on we know that snowmen exist.

  With a howl of his own, Igor burst from his tent, shouting in Russian. Arm upraised, he rushed the creature, and before Nat could register what he was doing, he plunged Joe’s knife into the thing’s back. The creature screeched at a decibel level that threatened to puncture their eardrums. Nat and Andrew threw their hands over their ears while they watched the scene in horror.


  The creature whipped around as though the six-inch knife were nothing but a nuisance, a mosquito bite. Flinging out its arm with an outraged squawk, it sent the Russian soaring at an impossible speed and height.

  “Igor!” Nat cried.

  She heard his screams as he vanished into the night, and the sickening thud as he hit the ground. Then nothing.

  “You fucking piece of shit!”

  Andrew seized a stick from the fire and charged the creature, using the makeshift torch like a spear, jabbing at its face.

  “Andy, no!” Nat wanted to tackle him, to yank him away from that thing, but she couldn’t move. It was as if her boots were nailed to the ground.

  “Andrew, get away from that thing before it kills you,” Steven said. Where had he come from?

  Maybe a part of Andrew found the mountaineer attractive and wanted to impress him, even now. He gritted his teeth and launched his torch into the creature’s face. This time, the thing squealed in pain, raising its arms to protect itself.

  For a few seconds, everything stopped. Nat held her breath. Had Andrew done it? Had he hurt the creature enough to incapacitate it?

  And then everything went crazy.

  With a yowl of rage, the creature yanked the knife from its back and threw it on the snow. Then it went after Andrew.

  “Holy shit!” Andy flew past her, diving into the tent. She heard the zipper close, and if Steven hadn’t yanked her out of the way, the creature would have crashed right into her. Because of its hood, the thing’s face was cloaked in shadow. Nat saw a glint of gold in the darkness as it rushed past.

  Yellow eyes.

  Before she could react, the creature raised its arm and clawed the tent, slicing it open. She heard Andrew yell for help.

  The next moments were like a dream.

  “Nat, no!”

  Steven’s warning didn’t register. At that second, he didn’t exist. Nothing did, except Andrew. And Andrew was in trouble.

  Retrieving the knife from the ground, she ran at the creature, driving the blade deep into the thing’s leg. It turned from the tent, growling and snarling, but she didn’t wait to see what would happen next. Forcing the weapon from its flesh, she thrust it into the darkness beyond the hood, into where she’d seen that glint of gold. Hot liquid spurted from the wound as the creature shrieked.