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  “There’s a difference between telling the truth and being nasty, a distinction you apparently fail to grasp. Next you’ll be claiming you’re a realist.” She really did hate people like Steven—people who only saw the worst in everyone, who infected the world around them with their gloom and doom. That was the last thing they needed up here.

  He widened his eyes. “I am a realist. What’s wrong with that?”

  “You’re not a realist; you’re a pessimist. That’s the problem. People like you never know the difference.”

  “And you’re incredibly selfish.”

  Lana gasped. “Steven!”

  “What? It’s okay for her to insult me, but I can’t say she’s selfish?” He pointed at Nat, his finger stabbing the frigid air. “This is your expedition. For better or worse, you are supposedly leading this team, and that makes everyone’s health and well-being your responsibility. Two people are dead, and we have our guide telling us that the longer we stay, the worse everyone’s chances of survival are. Your priority should be saving as many lives as you can, not sacrificing everyone for your precious producer.”

  Nat sucked in a breath, hoping against hope Andrew was still asleep. “I’m sorry if I don’t value his life less because he works for me. I wouldn’t abandon you either, as disagreeable as you are.”

  “No one needs to be abandoned. If Igor is willing to carry Andrew with our help, what’s the problem?” Lana asked. “We don’t need to fight about this. We shouldn’t be fighting about anything. We should be working together. And I still think we should build a sled.”

  At least the Olympian was thinking clearly. Steven had no clue how to survive with people. Nat was willing to bet the mountaineer had never lived with anyone, aside from his parents.

  “The problem is, carrying him will slow us down. Igor is the strongest member of our team. Do we really want to weaken him unnecessarily? What if his strength becomes crucial to our survival? We might as well shoot ourselves in the foot before we leave. And the terrain is too steep to control a sled.”

  “Carrying him will not weaken me. I am stronger than that.”

  Nat waited, wondering if Steven would argue with the Russian about how strong he was. But even he appeared to realize that would be futile. Sighing, Steven melted snow for the packets of beef tips. “I’m done fighting with you people. I’ve tried my best to reason with you, but you didn’t believe Vasily and now you don’t believe me. Just know that if the worse comes to worst on this mountain tomorrow, you brought it on yourself.”

  “What do you mean, we’re not listening to Vasily? We listened to Vasily.” Igor’s voice was angrier than Nat had ever heard it. Uh oh. She hoped Steven was smart enough to apologize and shut up before he got seriously hurt.

  “You’re listening to Vasily now, now that Joe and Anubha are dead. But how many people believed him when he warned us about the hunting?”

  Igor made a scoffing sound. “I wasn’t here when he talked about hunting. I was with Andrew and Nat.”

  “You’re right.” Steven raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I only meant that Anubha and Joe didn’t listen, and look what happened to them. They’re dead.”

  “Can we please stop talking about that?” Lana’s voice cracked. “It’s bad enough knowing their bodies are right there without you constantly bringing it up.”

  “Not to mention it’s pretty damn close to victim blaming,” Nat said, furious on her trappers’ behalf. “Joe and Anubha did not deserve what happened to them. They were only doing what I paid them to do. And I’m not going to fault them if they didn’t believe yetis ruled this mountain. That would be difficult for most people to wrap their heads around.”

  Tearing open the packets of beef tips, Steven poured them into the boiling water, making a rich gravy that got Nat’s stomach growling.

  “Are we really going to waste our precious food on a fabled snow creature, like some macabre version of leaving cookies for Santa?” Lana asked.

  “Different cultures believe different things. The best way to survive is always to listen to the natives,” Steven said, stirring the mixture. “As weird as it may sound to us, we need to listen to Vasily. He knows how to survive on this mountain, while we clearly do not.”

  “But we are listening to Vasily. We’re even listening to you. I just don’t want to leave Andrew—or anyone—behind.” Nat studied the Mansi, who had gone quiet again. She wondered if it was a natural reticence, or the difficulty of communicating in English. “What do they look like, Vasily?” When she received a puzzled expression in return, she clarified. “The snowmen, what do they look like? Do they really have long, white fur?”

  The guide shrugged. “I do not know. Never got a close look. They wear these suits, like snowsuits with hoods, but made of animal skins. Many different types of animals, different types of fur. Maybe that is how the story began that they are covered with fur.”

  Creatures wearing homemade snowsuits. Nat thought back to the story Steven had shared, about the creature in California wearing makeshift shoes. If the snowmen were capable of constructing their own clothing, they were highly intelligent. This went far beyond chimpanzees using sticks to scoop termites from a rotten log. The snowmen could be just as smart as humans, if not more so. God knows Nat had never believed their species had cornered the market on brains.

  But if they couldn’t outwit them and couldn’t overpower them, what could they do? They didn’t even have weapons beyond Anubha’s crossbow, Joe’s knife, and Vasily’s old rifle.

  “If these creatures exist, why has no one ever found a body?” Lana asked. It was an old question, one that had been put to cryptozoologists for years. Nat was curious to see if anyone in their group had an intelligent answer.

  “Maybe they bury their dead. Or eat them. Or burn them,” Steven said. “Or maybe bodies have been found, but the government hushed it up. We know something was hinky with the Dyatlov investigation. There were always too many unanswered questions. And before you jump down my throat, I’m not a conspiracy theorist. But I know, without a doubt, these creatures exist, or at least that something like them does. I’ve seen one.”

  “Even then, you’d think someone would have found something. A bit of bone, a tooth. It’s almost impossible to get rid of a body entirely.” Nat’s obsession with true crime had told her as much. “An ordinary fire wouldn’t cut it.”

  “Maybe people have found something, but didn’t recognize it as anything extraordinary. Or maybe they were afraid. Sightings of these creatures are always in remote areas—mountains, forests. Not places where there’s sophisticated technology or teams of scientists.”

  Steven had a point, but she could tell the others struggled with the notion that yetis were real. For many, it was much easier to believe in ghosts, vampires, and UFOs. But why?

  The group fell silent for a bit, the only sound the crackling and popping of their fire. Nat tilted her head back, amazed at the brightness of the stars. This place did have a stark beauty. If only her heart weren’t weighed down by fear and grief.

  She thought of Lyudmila. Was this how the young skier had felt on the last night of her life? She must have known her friends were dead by the time she was killed. How had she ended up under the snow? Had the creatures buried her there?

  “It’s ready. Where should I put it, Vasily?” Steven poured the contents of the cooking pot onto a plate. When the savory-smelling steam hit Nat’s nose, her stomach growled even louder. She pressed both hands against it.

  “Over there.” The Mansi pointed toward the forest, far away from their tents, filling Nat with relief. “Away from us.”

  “How do we know some other wild animal isn’t going to come along and eat it?” Lana asked. Nat had wondered the same.

  “They wouldn’t dare. All creatures fear the snowmen,” Vasily said. “They will leave it.”

  Nat wasn’t sure how a fox or wolf would know whom the food was intended for, but she was too tired to ask. In spite
of her hunger, her overwhelming need was for sleep. She felt dead on her feet.

  “Do you think this will work? Will they leave us alone?” Igor asked.

  The Mansi shrugged. “It is impossible to say. I have never seen them angry before. My village is careful to stay on their good side.”

  “So we have to wait and see if they’re going to come kill us? Well, that’s wonderful. Maybe we should make our way down to the second camp. Even in the dark, we’d probably be better off.”

  Nat had to agree with Lana. If there was a good chance they were going to die anyway, it made sense to leave now, while they still could.

  “I cannot carry Andrew in the dark. It’s too risky.” Igor frowned as he looked at her producer, who was still sleeping, his head resting against her shoulder. “We’ll have to wait until morning.”

  “What if a couple of us went ahead, like we did last night? I could go with Steven, and you three could meet us in the morning,” Lana suggested.

  In other words, you don’t care if we die, Nat thought. You’re only concerned about saving your own skin. She couldn’t judge the woman too harshly, though. If Nat didn’t have to stay behind with Andrew, she would probably already be on her way down the mountain herself. Even in the weak firelight, she could see Lana’s eyes were wide with fear.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Steven had returned from placing the food at the edge of the forest. “It’s better we stay together. Splitting up hasn’t worked out too well for us.”

  Talk about the understatement of the year. If the group had remained together, would Joe and Anubha be alive? Would Nat have taken Vasily seriously enough to help convince the trappers not to hunt? It was impossible to know.

  “What are we going to do?” Lana asked. “We can’t lie in our tents all night, waiting to die.”

  “We should take turns keeping the fire going. A good, strong fire might be enough to deter them, since they attack at night. The light from it could scare them off.” Steven added more kindling to the blaze. “Tending this is going to be a full-time job.”

  “If they’re smart enough to make snowsuits, I don’t think a little fire is going to scare them,” Nat said. “It doesn’t sound like we’re dealing with primitive creatures here.”

  Igor cracked his knuckles. “At least it’s something to do. Lana is right; we can’t lie around waiting. We’ll go insane.”

  “I volunteer to take the first shift. Lana, you should bunk with Nat and Andrew tonight. It’s not safe to stay by yourself. Vasily, you can share with me and Igor,” Steven said.

  Nat fully expected the Mansi to refuse, but to her surprise he nodded and went to collect his sleeping bag. It would be damn crowded in their little two-person tent, but she’d feel better knowing a strong, healthy person was with them. Given Andrew’s current condition, he wouldn’t be of much use to her in a fight.

  “I’ll stay with you,” Igor told Steven. “You should not be alone.”

  “No, you have to get your rest. We’re going to need your strength tomorrow. I’ll be fine. If I see anything, I’ll yell my head off, I promise.”

  Nat gently shook Andrew by the shoulder. “Andy?” She was relieved when her producer moaned. “Andy, it’s time to go to bed. Can you walk to the tent? I’ll help you.”

  Between her and the Russian, they got Andrew to his feet. “I’m so exhausted,” he said. “I can’t remember feeling this tired in my life.”

  “All the better reason to go to bed. Come on.” Hugging her friend around his waist, she was grateful for Igor’s help as he supported Andrew’s other side. He’s not going to be better by tomorrow. The terrible thought flashed through her mind before she could stop it. No matter what, she would never leave Andrew behind. Was Steven right? Did that make her selfish?

  Once they reached the tent, Andrew recovered enough energy to crawl inside his sleeping bag. Nat gave the Russian a hug.

  “Thanks, Igor.”

  “No problem. I am right beside you, okay? You need anything, you yell for me and I will come.”

  “Okay, I will. Thank you.”

  It was comforting to know Igor would be close by, although if Vasily were correct about the snowmen’s size and strength, it wouldn’t make much difference. If the creatures were determined to destroy them, their group wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Leaving the flap partially open for Lana, Nat scrambled into her own sleeping bag. Remembering how the Dyatlov group had been found in their socks, she made the decision to keep her boots on, though that would make it more difficult to get in and out of the bag.

  Somewhat settled, she stared into the darkness, waiting for Lana.

  ~ Chapter Eleven ~

  Nat’s eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She sat bolt upright and regretted it immediately as the blood rushed from her head, making her dizzy.

  Beside her, Andrew snored softly, his breathing deep and even. His color was better, and he wasn’t making that nasty wheezing sound any longer. All good signs. Still, something nagged at her. What was it?

  Lana. The Olympian was supposed to have shared a tent with them, but there was no sign she’d ever arrived. The flap was partly unzipped, the way Nat had left it the night before. Shit.

  Struggling to free herself from her sleeping bag, she tried to tell herself there were lots of innocent explanations for Lana’s absence. Maybe she’d decided to stay with Steven—Nat had detected more than a few sparks between them. Or perhaps it was too crowded in here and she had decided to remain in her own tent. There was no need to panic.

  Tell that to her heart, which was fluttering like a crazed bird bent on escape.

  Finally yanking her boots free of the sleeping bag, Nat lifted the tent flap, wincing at the blast of wintery air. It was definitely getting colder. At least they’d be leaving today. The trick was surviving one more night on the mountain, and then they’d be back in their cozy hotel, planning the long journey home.

  She could hardly wait to eat a meal that hadn’t come out of a foil packet.

  Igor sat beside the fire, idly stirring the embers with a stick. The flames weren’t as high as they had been last night, but she could feel the warmth from a few feet away. The pile of kindling had dwindled. That would need to be the first order of business, after she made sure Lana was okay.

  He grinned when he saw her approach. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Igor. Did you sleep well?”

  “Shockingly, yes. I must have been more tired than I thought. How about you?”

  “Too well, apparently.” At his look of confusion, Nat hurried to explain. “I wanted to stay awake until Lana came in, but I must have fallen asleep. Have you seen her this morning?”

  “No. Is she not in your tent?”

  “It doesn’t look like she ever joined us. I guess she decided to stay in hers. Can’t say I blame her. It would have been very crowded with the three of us.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We needed to stick together; that’s what we decided. She should have stayed with you.”

  “I’m going to check on her, make sure she’s okay. That’s all I care about right now.”

  Dread loomed over Nat as she walked to the woman’s tent. Next to the Mansi’s, it was closest to the forest. Craning her neck, she tried to see if the plate of food Steven had left was empty, but it was too far away.

  “Lana?” Nat kept her voice low, not wanting to wake Steven and Vasily if she didn’t have to. “Lana, are you in there?”

  There was no response, but she hadn’t expected any. The Olympian had been so scared about staying alone last night. She wouldn’t have done it willingly. Kneeling, Nat unzipped the tent, shaking off the feeling she was intruding. Lana had given up the right to privacy when she hadn’t joined them.

  Part of her, a tiny, ugly part that would always be tormented by Anubha’s ruined face, had expected to find some awful scene, but Lana’s tent was neat. Neat and empty, except for a note. The blo
nde had folded it so it stood up on its own like a place card.

  This was good. Murder victims didn’t have time to write letters. But where was Lana’s stuff? Nat had a feeling that whatever Lana had to say, it wasn’t going to make her happy. Pulling off a glove with her teeth, she unfolded the paper.

  I’m sorry but I can’t stay here. I’ve gone on to the second camp, where Nat and Igor stayed with Andrew on the first night. I’ll wait there for one day, but if I don’t see you, I’ll continue on to Vizhai and meet you there. Forgive me.

  “That stupid bitch. That stupid, selfish bitch.”

  “Nat?” Igor called her from right outside the tent, making her jump. “Is everything all right?”

  “She left us. She fucking left us.”

  There was a rustling sound as Igor poked his head inside. “What do you mean, ‘left us’?”

  “See for yourself.” Nat waved her arms at the empty tent before thrusting the note into the Russian’s hand. “How she got past Steven is beyond me. Unless he was in on it.”

  Then she heard the voice of the man himself. “What’s going on? What happened?” The mountaineer pulled the flap aside and stared at them, his face drawn and anxious.

  “Lana left. She went to the second camp without us,” Igor said, passing Steven the letter.

  “You must have seen her leave,” Nat said, trying and failing to keep the accusation out of her voice. “She would have had to pass you.”

  “Well, I didn’t. Obviously. If I’d seen her, she wouldn’t have gotten very far.” The mountaineer scowled. “What a colossally stupid risk to take. She could have broken her neck, navigating that slope at night.”

  With Igor crouched beside her and Steven blocking the entrance, Nat felt claustrophobic. She pushed past the two men, grateful for the fresh air outside, even though it was freezing. They followed her out. “Maybe she left in the morning. At dawn, before I woke up and saw she was missing. She might not be too far ahead.”

  “That would have been Igor’s shift. Did you hear or see anything?” Steven asked.