Return to Dyatlov Pass Page 15

  “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.

  “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.”

  “Maybe not, but the bodies of Joe, Anubha, and Lana were clearly posed to recreate what happened in the past. So if it’s not the same creatures, that knowledge has been passed on.”

  “Reports describe the ravine as being two hundred and fifty feet deeper into the woods past the cedar tree where we found Joe and Anubha,” Steven said. “We should be able to find it.”

  “Or break our own legs in the process,” Nat said. “I don’t think we should hide. I think we should fight.”

  Igor wrinkled his brow. “Fight? Fight how? You’ve seen how strong these things are. That one threw me over fifteen feet like I weighed nothing. What chance do we have against that kind of power?”

  “They may be stronger, but I’m willing to bet we’re smarter.” Nat steeled herself for a battle. She’d suspected it wouldn’t be easy to convince them, but her instincts told her it was the right thing to do. When they’d minded their own business, the creatures had picked them off one by one. But when they’d fought back, they were left alone. All it took was the death of one snowman to force the creatures into a retreat.

  Steven chuckled. “I wouldn’t take that bet. Humans are the dumbest species in existence.”

  She decided to ignore him. Enough with his naysaying. He’d argue what color the sky was if it suited him. “There have to be things we can do, traps we can set, weapons we can make. Think about it—they could have returned and killed us last night, but they didn’t. They took their dead and left. They attack the weak, don’t you see that? If we’re not weak, they might leave us alone. And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of being weak. I want to kick some yeti ass.”

  “They also took Vasily,” Andrew said.

  “More reason for us to fight back. They’ve killed four of our friends. Do we really want to roll over and let them kill the rest of us?”

  “I get what you’re saying, Nat. And if my leg weren’t buggered, I might agree with you. But I’ve felt the power of these creatures—you haven’t. And I honestly think the only shot we have is for you three to hide me and get the fuck out of here before they come back.”

  For some reason, Igor’s resignation angered her more than Steven’s devil’s advocate routine. Was she the only one who wasn’t a coward? What was wrong with them? “You’re right. I haven’t felt their power, but I have felt their weakness. I stabbed one through the eye and killed it. If I can kill one, I can kill more.”

  “Not trying to take anything away from you, but you did have the advantage of surprise,” Steven said. “You won’t have that next time. They’ll be ready for you. And we only have one knife.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously I’m not going to try the exact same strategy again. And there are other things we could use as weapons. We have climbing gear, cooking utensils, and tools. There has to be something. But I seem to be the sole person interested in standing up to these fuckers.”

  Steven sighed, rubbing his forehead. “My interest has always been in doing what’s best for the group as a whole, trying to ensure that the greatest number of us survive.”

  “And how’s that working for you?” she shot back.

  “Nat, that isn’t fair. It’s not Steven’s fault four people are dead.” Andrew shook his head at the number. It seemed impossible that half of their group was gone, but that very fact galvanized her. Didn’t they get that?

  “I never meant to imply that. I’m simply suggesting that what we’ve been doing so far clearly isn’t working. And since I’m the one who saved your life last night, I’d hoped you’d listen to me.”

  “I am listening to you. I’m sorry, but it sounds kind of mad. What do you want us to do, charge these things armed with cooking pots and ski poles, assuming we still have some poles lying around somewhere? Maybe if there were twenty or thirty of us it would work, but with four? Our one hope would be to render them helpless with laughter.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, doing her best to ignore Steven’s smirk. “I wouldn’t suggest anything that insane. But I do think that with some planning we can beat these things, or at least scare them off so they leave us alone.”

  “Do you have a plan, Nat? Are you thinking of anything in particular?” The fact Andrew was taking her seriously, or was willing to hear her out, was enough. He wouldn’t let her down. They’d worked together and been friends for too long. He knew, better than anyone, that she didn’t have stupid ideas.

  “I do,” she said. “But the first step is to fix Igor’s leg. And then I’m going to see if I can charge our phones and get a signal.”

  * * *

  “Maybe he’ll cause an avalanche with all that screaming, and then we don’t have to worry about the yetis,” Andrew joked, but paled when the Russian lunged at him. Her producer doubled back so fast he tripped and almost fell on his ass.

  Igor’s face darkened with rage as he spat foreign words at them around the belt Steven kept wedged between his teeth. “No such luck,” the mountaineer said. “I think we’re done.”

  To Nat’s relief, the bone hadn’t broken through the skin, but Steven had diagnosed it as a “bad break” of the tibia. She’d always thought that was an odd expression. What on earth was a “good break”?

  Splinting the leg began with her and Andrew trying to hold Igor down while the mountaineer gently tugged on the limb until it was straight. Her ears still rang from the Russian’s ear-blistering shrieks of pain.

  Igor leaned to one side and threw up on the snow. So much for the beef tips.

  “Almost done, big guy. Just a bit more gauze.”

  She’d found Joe’s carved walking stick in the couple’s tent. The workmanship was stunning, and it hurt to chop it in two to make the splint. But she had a feeling the trappers would have understood.

  No one had ever had a more elegant splint. If nothing else, they’d done Igor proud.

  “Tape, please?” Steven asked, and Nat gave it to him, careful not to make contact with his skin. Once again, she struggled to reconcile her feelings about him. One minute, he was a sexual deviant; the next, the closest thing they had to a medic. He’d set Igor’s leg like a pro. If they could get the creatures to back off, the Russian’s tibia could possibly heal enough for them to get safely home. “There you go. How you feelin’, man?”

  Igor glowered at him. “How the fuck do you think I’m feeling? You bloody torturer.”

  “Hey, I get that it’s not fun, but we had no choice. You’ll thank me later, when you’re back teaching chicks how to ski with your nice, straight legs.”

  “Maybe. But in the meantime, I’d get out of my sight for your own safety.”

  Steven threw up his hands. “I can’t win with you people.” Glancing at the fire, his face fell. “And we’re almost out of wood again. Nat, will you help me, please?”

  Startled, Nat looked to Andrew, hoping he could read her mind.

  “It’s okay,” he said, failing her utterly. “You two go ahead. I’ll stay with Igor and keep him company.”

  Clearly, they’d have to work on their telepathy if they ever got out of this mess.

  She fell behind Steven on the trail, keeping her distance as they trudged to the edge of the woods. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast. What if he tried to hurt her? Did he have the knife? Tucking her hands in her pockets, she felt around for anything she could use as a weapon if it came to it. Some tissue, a tube of lip balm, and a pen. Clenching the pen in her fist, she vowed to jab it into his eye if he so much as looked at her funny.

  She was so focused on her plan that she almost ran right into his back. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

  “Listen, Nat. I didn’t really need your help to gather the wood. I wanted to talk to you.”

  Tightening her grip on the pen, she nodded. “I kind of figured that.”

  “Things have been tense between us since you went
in my tent, and I’ve got a pretty good idea why. For the record, I’m really embarrassed you saw that. I’m sure I must seem strange to you.”

  Was he serious? “No, strange isn’t the word I’d use.”

  He reached for her arm, and when she jerked it away, his face crumpled. “It isn’t what you think. That…clothing you found, it’s Lana’s. It may sound silly, but she was such a private person. After my aunt and her friends disappeared, a team of searchers came up here and went through all their things. Some stuff—personal items—went missing, including a journal. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone pawing through Lana’s private things, making crude comments about them. I was determined to survive and make sure no one saw them but me.”

  It was a pretty speech, and if someone else had made it, Nat might have believed it. “That would make a lot of sense, except for the fact that you also have my underwear. Please don’t tell me you’re stockpiling my panties for safekeeping, because if rescuers arrive to save my life, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what they say about my undies.”

  She got a little satisfaction watching the color drain from his face.

  “There must be some mistake.”

  “I’d say the whole thing is a mistake, but it wasn’t me who made it. I hope you’re not about to suggest I don’t know my own underwear. It’s easy to spot, since it’s a departure from the rest of your collection. I assumed you’d wanted some variety from the lacy, frilly stuff.”

  “C’mon, Nat. Do I strike you as some kind of creepy panty sniffer? I swear, anything I took was from Lana’s tent, and I did it to protect her. If somehow a pair of yours got into the mix, then they were with her things.” He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Argh, this is more embarrassing than I thought. I can only imagine what you must be thinking of me.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” She’d started off with a strong conviction never to believe him again, but now his story was wearing on her. Could he be telling the truth?