Order of the Black Sun Box Set 3

by Preston William Child

  Nina tried to steady her breathing, but truthfully she could not recall ever being this cold in her entire life. Not even on the Wolfenstein excursion in Antarctica did she feel such uncontrollable frigidity, which challenged the temperature during her time in Mönkh Saridag on the border of Russia and Mongolia a while back. Her lips and nails had turned a nasty shade of purple and no matter how she rubbed her hands together, they remained void of any sensation under the insulation of her leather gloves. Under her balaclava her jaw jittered madly, so Nina pulled up the stuffed collar of her parka and tucked her Angora fleece scarf snugly inside. With a little luck the wild gust would not nudge it out again, prying bit by bit until it came undone and wrapped its icy fingers around her neck.

  “How long, Neville?” she asked the archaeologist she was assisting on this excavation in the Himalayas.

  “Not long, Miss Nina, not long. I am just waiting for them to drill through the last six inches of the rock bed. Then we can descend and get out of the elements,” Neville assured her in his heavy Calcutta drawl. His voice rose and fell in volume through the onslaught of the blizzard from where he crouched in the sunken hole that served as entrance to the chamber his party had been searching for.

  “Never you fear, Dr. Gould,” a tall German man next to Nina said, “we will be in there soon enough.”

  “You seriously think that there is validity in the pursuit of a myth, Herr Cammerbach?” Nina asked, not bothering to hide the ridicule she was dying to lend them all.

  “My dear Dr. Gould, you have to chisel away the absurdity to reveal the genetic science of it. Of course we do not expect to find a soft-hearted furry giant with white pelt! Mein Gott, perish the thought!” Herr Cammerbach exclaimed. His piercing, light blue eyes rivaled the thawing ice of the frozen caves and rivulets in the background, and when he spoke with his overly educated tone the deep folds in his cheeks dimpled.

  “Then what do you expect to find? I have to concede that I feel a bit awkward having to consult on an expedition into the Indian Himalayas searching for the yeti,” Nina admitted, slipping her hands under her armpits.

  “It is much more than that,” he answered, leaning to the side every now and then to look past Nina to see if Neville was sitting deeper yet. “Unfortunately we are pressed for time before this particular site freezes us out for another season, otherwise I would have taken the time to escort you to our two other digs where we have discovered concrete proof that some type of human-beast hybrid had indeed existed here. Hell, it might still be roaming here, who knows!”

  Nina nodded in her best contemplative manner, trying to keep her mind alert while her body was slowly turning into an icicle. “On that note, I do hope we do not become warm meat to anything out here while we wait for the cavern to be opened.”

  “They should break through soon,” Herr Cammerbach, genetics expert and avid mythologist, replied. He hoped the team would have it done sooner than later, because he was feeling rather uncomfortable out in the open. “I don’t think yeti eat humans, Dr. Gould. But then again, they did find a lot of animal bones where we found the odd DNA compositions. On second thought,” he jested with remarkable sincerity, “there are snow leopards and tigers . . . even rhinos . . . in these parts, so I suppose you are not too paranoid about our position or exposure.”

  Nina examined his laugh lines to see if they fell deeper, if his eyes narrowed in amusement, but Herr Cammerbach maintained a poker face not to be challenged. For a long few seconds Nina stared him down until he could not hold out anymore.

  “I’m joking, Dr. Gould, but I am not. We do have dangerous predators around us and we should really be vigilant, but I don’t think the abominable snowman will gnaw on our femurs and skulls,” he winked.

  “Your attempt at recovery is failing miserably, Herr Cammerbach,” Nina complained, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes darting about the area with uncertainty. “And your consolation for it is dismal.”

  The German explorer laughed heartily and Nina felt his hand fall on her hood, weighing warm and heavy on her head. She had to smile at the gleeful demeanor of the good-looking adventurer who was no more than fifteen years her senior, yet treated her like a daughter. “I apologize, Nina! I do! I promise I will make you the best dinner you have ever had, just for putting up with me . . . and our tedious mission.” He moved her head gently under his palm before letting go and gently pushed her aside to survey the progress of the diggers.

  “You see, if we use dynamite, the mountains will bury us in ice, so instead we opted for some strong young men to chip away,” he told Nina, barely looking back at her.

  “I realize that, but you could have invested in power tools or something, couldn’t you?” she asked. By now her skin was growing taut from the freezing air as it burned over her forehead and cheeks.

  “Too much to lug with us, young lady!” he shouted through the new wave of white chips that rained over them like wedding confetti. “Way too much to bring a generator this far, even with the helicopters. It is just impractical in these ranges.”

  Nina crouched next to Cammerbach and saw Neville’s back darkened by shadow as he advanced deeper into the hole. From somewhere in the mountains a terrible wail sounded, louder than a human voice, but human in nature. It gave Nina chills; chills she thought she had used up to their quota.

  “Hurry, Neville!” Cammerbach urged. His tone was curious, Nina thought. It carried within it a certain hint of panic, well subdued under a professional command, which he delivered with complete control. She frowned, combing the perimeter over ice-capped rocky mountains protruding lazily over the vast plains of grassland, trees, and rivers. There was nothing observable she could subscribe his urgency to, but it was certain that the calm and composed leader of the team was unsettled by something.

  “Just a few more inches, Herr Cammerbach. We are almost there!” Neville reported from the dense dark hole. Nina could not help but feel unwavering doom push up from the pit of her stomach as she noted the tall German’s restlessness. He kept surveying the area over and over, his boots constantly teasing the edge of the hole as if he wished he could jump in.

  “What is the matter?” Nina finally inquired. “There is something on our trail, isn’t there?”

  He ignored her, but the rapid cadence of his breathing affirmed her suspicions. Nina grew impatient with his tiresome display of indifference to her questions and she persisted boisterously, “Herr Cammerbach, are we being hunted by something?” The petite historian’s voice was now firm and assertive, a trait of no bullshit she was well-known for. Her hand gripped his sleeve and forced him to address her. In his face she could read desperation, and even a touch of hopelessness, yet he gave a weak chuckle to maintain his charade.

  “It’s nothing, I’m sure,” he explained, while the white dusty vapor of his words announced his panting. “You know, I am just careful. I know these perilous plains and mountain ranges very well by now, but we still have to keep an eye out for anything unusual. Predators roam freely and there are no settlements nearby.”

  “Is that a fact?” she scoffed. He nodded, unaware of her sarcasm and hostility. Nina adored Cammerbach. She had worked with him before, but when it came to her safety, her very life, nobody dragging her into it was exempt from her attacks. “I have been here before too, you know.”

  Astonished, he took a moment from his frantic worry to look at her. “No, I did not know that.” It was obvious that the team leader felt a tad stupid for lying to his historical advisor to look better informed. He played dumb, though. “When were you here? On holiday?”

  “Hardly,” Nina murmured, recalling her dangerous expedition with two other men who always dragged her into situations of immense risk—Sam Cleave and Dave Purdue. “A few years ago I was here with a group of colleagues to search for a relic reputed to have been hidden in Tibet and its surrounding ranges, Heinrich. And I know for a fact that this part of the land is riddled with villages full of goat farmers and traders.�
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  Cammerbach had no retort. It was true what Nina said, but he dared not blatantly admit to uncalled-for patronization, especially toward a woman of her knowledge and intelligence. Playing dumb was also not tolerated, and he had to concede to his transgression.

  “I apologize, Nina. I was just trying to keep you alert while hoping you had not abandoned all trust in my ability to manage this excursion. I had no idea you were familiar with the place,” he confessed. His eyes were still very vigilant, and he turned to study the white obscurity surrounding them. “By the way, what relic were you looking for?”

  “The Spear of Destiny,” she answered plainly. “Christ, I could kill for a cigarette right now.”

  Intrigued, Cammerbach leaned in to hear Nina better. “Did you find it?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “The Spear of Destiny—did you find it?” he repeated, absolutely attentive to the conversation.

  Nina shrugged, “We found a lot of things, some beyond the conventions of handmade historical items claiming to have power.” That was all she revealed to the expedition leader. Perplexed at her cryptic answer, Cammerbach was about to approach the question from a different angle to assure a satisfactory answer from Dr. Gould, but as he leaned in again to speak, the awful cry echoed once more. Nina jumped. Neville peeked his head out from the hole with stretched eyes that declared his alarm.

  “Get through! Get through! They are getting closer!” Neville shouted into the dark ahead of him. Nina looked at Cammerbach. No more was he putting forward the idle chuckles and the dismissive consolations. He was terrified. The wails continued, coming from the pale nothingness around them, closer and closer. Nina could hear the workers chisel hard and madly, babbling in voices fraught with terror and apprehension. She need not know their language to understand what they were saying. Their uttering was universal—primal shrieks of agitation any creature with a soul could construe as emotional injury and impending death.

  “Cammerbach?” she shouted. Inside Nina the tension gripped her brain. She could not make sense of any of it. How could so many men—prepared men—be so scared? “Cammerbach! What the hell is going on?”

  But he remained frozen in his stance, staring out into the twirling snow at something that was not there. Nina tried to discern movement inside the whirlwind of ice, but she saw nothing. Cammerbach suddenly grabbed her and flung her small frame into the hole with Neville and his frantic colleagues. The rock broke right through and they tumbled into a conduit of dirt and ice, while Nina looked back for Cammerbach.

  From the swirling vortex Nina saw a flash of light emanating and it struck Cammerbach squarely in the chest, splitting open his torso like a laser within a blink. The hot crimson flesh fell to the snow and melted its immediate surface. Nina screamed inadvertently and buried her face in her hands. The men with her went into a state of frenzied prayer and when she had steadied her heart, Nina looked up. There was no blizzard, no snow; only the silence of the Himalayan breath that gently stirred her blood-soiled hair.

  2

  With no time to spare, they raced down into the hole. Neville pulled Nina away from the mouth of the tunnel and shoved her in front of him. His aim was to put his own body between the entrance and the precious historian whom he revered and admired, not only for her tenacity, but for her courage.

  “Go! Go, Dr. Gould!” he screamed in the din of the cries and screams. There were eleven of them, an excavating team of archeology students, artisans, the late leader of the expedition, his historical and cultural advisor—Nina, and then there was Neville, his assistant. Neville pushed her hard from behind as they fell about in the dark passage with nothing but a faint light held by one of the men in front.

  Nina could not look back, because Neville kept corralling her forward. She was wondering if he did so to keep her from wasting time, or perhaps to keep her from seeing what was behind them. The strange wailing had now become the distant reminiscence of whales, still loud enough to convince her that whatever made the sound had advanced into the tunnel with Nina and her party.

  “In here, Dr. Gould!” she heard Neville call out.

  “Where?” she yelped, still sick from the warm coppery smell of Cammerbach’s blood on her. Her slender fingers reached out in the dark to find Neville where she could hear his voice.

  “Straight ahead, Dr. Gould!” he urged, tugging at her parka.

  “Don’t you have a light, Neville? You are supposed to be equipped with a flashlight, at least,” she reprimanded out of frustration and fear. Her body fell hard against his in the dark, and Nina felt Neville’s rugged hand latch over her mouth to silence her. Under the restraint of his dirty glove she muttered his name, exasperated by his strange conduct.

  “Shh, Dr. Gould. A light will let them see us and if you don’t keep quiet we will share the fate of those men,” he whispered hard in Nina’s ear. His breath was rapid and hot in her hair and smelled of atchar and green peppers.

  “Who?” she asked inaudibly into his glove, tapping his forearm lightly to signal that he could remove his hand now. Before he could answer, she saw the beam of the timid flashlight of the front runner whip about wildly. Its ray painted the wall of the tunnel with wide lashes of illumination as the man holding it was subjugated by someone.

  “Neville, what’s happening?” Nina whispered hysterically as the screams of the expedition party changed from prayers to utters of onslaught.

  “Be quiet!” he growled as softly as he could.

  Outside the small niche in the rock where Nina and Neville hid, three massive figures passed briskly. They were covered in white pelt, much like the elusive yeti creature of myth that Herr Cammerbach was there to find. From the chill of the surface they had come into the hole after the group of archeological explorers who invaded their territory. Nina pinched her eyes shut as they grunted, slumped over at over 6 foot, 5 inches, and made their murderous way through their victims. Neville had a time of keeping Nina silent, holding her up from near collapse as they heard the giant beasts snap the necks and bones of the unfortunate men in the duct.

  Silence was deafening for a while after the last squeal had died down and the light was extinguished. Nina’s breathing was labored and hard against Neville’s jacket where he held her fast to keep her propped up. She could hear the Indian’s heart slam insanely inside his shivering shell and she knew that he was as petrified as she was. Her body felt weak and shaky in the pitch darkness of the confined space she was forced to take refuge in. For now, Nina’s claustrophobia had to take a step back to her survival, and she tried to occupy her thoughts with the deadly primates out to kill them rather than the small crevice she was caught in under several layers of rock and snow that could collapse on them at any moment.

  With everything inside her she tried to keep it together, both physically and mentally. Then the mangled thoughts of blame started, as they always surfaced when she was about to die.

  Why did I take this job?

  Damn Margaret for asking me to look at the theories her colleague had!

  If only I had called Sam back instead of squeezing in this job first.

  Where is Purdue with his gadgets and money when I need him to escape?

  Nina shivered profusely in the spot where she stood, mildly soothed by Neville’s body heat and the slight warmth of his embrace. He also attempted to calm himself by taking long deep breaths as the scuffling of the huge beasts’ feet came toward their little hideout. Nina and Neville held their breath as the yeti walked past them, hardly 16 feet away. The stench off their bloody fur was repulsive. That hot, sweet odor filled the air and Nina fought not to choke and cough from its foul harassment of her senses. Neville pressed her face hard into the padding of his coat, in case she succumbed to the nauseating smell.

  For a moment the yeti grunted in primitive articulation, a form of communication, as if discussing their next move. It was both terrifying and sickening to Nina that they spoke, in effect. To her it was like hearing a pack
of wolves speak French or Spanish after killing a herd of their favorite prey—a most eerie and grotesque thought indeed. Vaguely the sound of voices, real voices speaking words, came from outside. Nina already envisaged more carnage as they approached, but to their surprise the big creatures quickly fled in the opposite direction. Deeper into the dig site they moved, eventually growing quiet in the distance while the talking men shouted for support at the entrance of the tunnel.

  “I know those voices!” Neville said suddenly, startling Nina. “Dr. Gould, we are safe!”

  “I don’t feel particularly safe right now, pal,” she whispered urgently, clinging to the Indian geology graduate and guide who had, minutes before, become the new leader of the expedition when Cammerbach was consumed by a white death.

  “No, Dr. Gould, I know them. I know their voices. They are the men from the base camp I was visiting last night with Herr Cammerbach,” he tried to convince Nina, but she embraced her skepticism with a shake of her head.

  “Don’t go out there,” she whispered as they drew nearer, calling out in a language she could not quite place.

  “Come, before they desert the place. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be here alone, especially after the dark comes,” he told her. Nina had to agree that it would be suicide to stay behind without weapons, provisions, light, and a GPS. She trailed Neville as he stepped out of the hiding place and called out, “Hello! We are in need of help! Hello, anyone?”

  “Are you all right?” a man asked. “Guys, we have two survivors from the Cammerbach party! Medic! Do we have a medic?”

  “We are unharmed,” Neville told the man, who resembled his colleagues almost precisely because of their uniform anoraks and balaclavas. Nina guessed the team at about twelve, all wearing the same protective clothing. From the sound of their words they were Scandinavian and British nationals, some using military terms and others following orders.

  “Are they from the armed forces?” she asked Neville, while they waited for the two medical technicians to check them.