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  Steven’s arms were around her, pulling her back out of harm’s way. The creature toppled face first onto the snow, its horrible cries dying with it.

  Nat shoved the mountaineer away, breaking free from his grip. “Andrew, Andrew, are you okay?” Her hands shook so badly she almost couldn’t unzip the tent. But then she was inside and her friend was in her arms and he was crying and he was alive—oh my God, he was alive.

  “Nat.” Andrew took her face in his hands, the nylon from his gloves scratching her cheek. “You saved my life, you crazy bitch.”

  “Don’t you ever, ever do that again, you hear me?”

  He laughed through his tears. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. My heroic days are over.”

  “Thank fuck for that.”

  “Hey.” Steven burst into their tent, pale and distraught. It spooked them so much they started laughing again. “He’s okay?”

  Andrew winked. “I’m fine. Probably took a few years off my life, but I do that pretty well on my own anyway.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad. Because Igor is not okay. I need your help. Both of you.”

  Fuck. Igor. In all the turmoil, she’d temporarily forgotten about him. “Let’s go.”

  Steven led the way past the fire. Igor lay near the trail, covered with a blanket. He raised his head when he heard them coming, and Nat wanted to weep with relief. She hadn’t expected him to have survived.

  “I’m sorry, Nat.”

  She fell to her knees in the snow beside him. “What are you sorry for? You’re a hero. You saved Vasily’s life. Wait a minute—where is Vasily? Has anyone seen him?”

  Steven shook his head. “I’ve been preoccupied with Igor. I assume he’s in his tent, probably afraid to come out.”

  Igor’s breathing was ragged, and his forehead shone with sweat, but otherwise he looked all right. “Are you in pain, Igor? Can you move?”

  “I think I broke my leg, Nat. Hurts like hell.”

  Shit. There went their plan of walking down the mountain tomorrow. And of Igor helping Andrew. Now she understood why he’d apologized, though it wasn’t his fault. “Can you wiggle your toes?”

  He moved one foot but yelped when he attempted the other.

  “Okay, let’s move him by the fire. At least I’ll have a bit more light,” she said.

  “Do you have a first aid kit?” Steven asked, the hope in his voice palpable.

  “Only the basics. I have gauze and we can make splints from some sticks. It should be enough to make do until we can get him some real medical help.” Steven’s eyes met hers and she could guess what he was thinking: what medical help? And what if it weren’t only Igor’s leg that was hurt? What if he had internal bleeding or worse? Thankfully, the mountaineer kept his mouth shut for a change. “Let’s see if we can move him, and then we’ll go check on Vasily. Steven, do you have another blanket? I’m thinking we can gently slide him along the snow.”

  “I’ll go get one.” He sprinted for his tent, snow flying from his boots.

  “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.”

  “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.”