J Moncrieff - Return to Dyatlov Pass

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.

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.