The International Yeti Collective

by Paul Mason

  *

  Tick heard a rustle in the bushes behind him, then Dahl emerged, followed closely by the others. The yeti strode down to the field and joined Tick, squatting down in the coarse grass. Flittermouse flapped down and landed on Tick’s shoulder.

  “No sudden movements,” said Tick. “It’s got to be a little scary for her.”

  “She doesn’t look scared,” said Plumm, sniffing the air, trying to pick up the girl’s scent. “They really don’t smell of anything, do they?”

  “Raise your lips and show her your teeth – smile the human way,” said Tick.

  “Now what?” said Plumm, her face fixed in a leer.

  *

  Now what? thought Ella. The pong that wafted towards her through the thick grass was enough to make her feel dizzy. There were four yeti crouched in the grass, and the first one had a bat on his shoulder. What Uncle Jack would do to be in her shoes! She wondered how long it would be before he discovered that both she and the key to the bunker were missing.

  Ella saw that the yeti were all staring at her. She glanced at the dusty road. They would have to cross the hills and follow the road to the bunker from the bush, staying out of sight. The afternoon light was starting to fade – that would give them extra cover. Ella gestured to the yeti to follow her, before marching off across the field.

  *

  The yeti slunk through the grass, low to the ground, following Pebble Nose as she clambered over a low barrier towards the safety of the bush. Above their heads, Flittermouse squeaked.

  “No sign of any humans up ahead,” said Tick as the yeti merged with the trees.

  “I think this human means to stride the whole way,” said Jiffi.

  “At her pace? And have you ever heard anyone walk with so much noise?” Dahl gestured at Pebble Nose, who was scrambling over some fallen branches, twigs snapping and crunching.

  “Humans,” Plumm giggled.

  “Then there’s no choice,” said Jiffi. “One of us will have to pick her up so we can stride properly.”

  “No fear,” said Dahl.

  “I’ll do it,” said Tick. “We’re sort of friends after all.”

  “You won’t even notice she’s there. It’ll be like carrying a sack of mulberries,” laughed Plumm.

  Tick called out to Pebble Nose. “Yerrsss!” The girl stopped, turned round and smiled.

  “Ell-a,” said Pebble Nose, pointing to herself. “Ell-a.”

  “Like the grunting of a yak,” said Dahl.

  “Ell-a,” echoed Tick. He looked the girl over. She seemed so small and fragile. What if he dropped her? He’d just have to be careful. He pointed to the girl and to his shoulders. “Ell-a,” he said again. “Yersss.”

  *

  Ella remembered how Dad had carried her around on his shoulders all the time when she was little. It made sense, she supposed. She recalled just how fast this yeti was able to disappear into the distance up in the Himalayas.

  The yeti handed his staff to one of the others. Then he scooped Ella up by her armpits as if she weighed nothing, lifted her high over his head and on to his furry shoulders. Ella tucked her calves under the yeti’s arms for balance and gripped his fur – trying not to pull too hard. She decided it was probably best to avoid nostril-breathing for a while.

  As soon as the yeti seemed satisfied that she was on securely, he began to run. Slowly at first but then gathering pace. Ella ducked down as they swept under branches. The yeti bounded through the bush, darting through the trees and gliding along the forest floor without once breaking his stride. The speed astounded Ella – it was like being on the back of a galloping horse. She laughed aloud.

  They passed through a glade and Ella could see that they were straying from the road. She tapped the yeti on his arm and pointed.

  “We need to go that way,” she said.

  The yeti nodded, and veered off in the right direction, the bat flapping above them. In the distance, Ella could see where the bush ended and the hills covered with boulders began. They’d be there in no time.

  As the sun headed down towards the sea to the west, they reached the concrete bunker. At the edge of the treeline, the yeti paused. Ella couldn’t see any sign of life near the front entrance. There were no cars parked there and no sound of anything coming down the road.

  Ella pointed at the concrete box buried in the hill ahead. Her yeti friend nodded and set off at once, weaving through the boulders scattered over the hillside. At the iron gate, the yeti reached up and lifted Ella down.

  Ella traced another square in the air with her fingers and pointed inside. Then she turned her attention to the padlock, working at it with the key. The lock resisted at first, but with a bit of wiggling it turned and Ella slid off the padlock, then pulled back the bolt. She grabbed the iron door in both hands and heaved it open. She held back for a moment, breathing in the musty tunnel air. Just a bit further, then the yeti would have their precious carvings back.

  As the doorway groaned open, Tick peered into the long tunnel. He gave the sides of the passageway a poke with his finger. Hard as rock but with a surface that was smooth. It smelled dusty and lifeless. Nothing grew or lived down this tunnel. There was, however, the faintest of yeti odours coming from deep within. Tick’s heart thumped – the slabs. Was this the moment when he got them back? Was a firefly light going to blink? Was there going to be the wail of an alarm horn?

  Tick stepped inside the tunnel. Nothing happened. “Well, I guess this is it,” he said.

  “I worry this is all too convenient,” said Dahl. “Once inside this cavern, we’ll have no way of escape. A ripe fruit is often full of worms.”

  “The whole time on the stride over here, she’s been at our mercy. She’s taken as much of a risk as us. We can trust her,” Tick pointed out.

  “Jiffi, can you hide near this entrance and keep a lookout?” asked Dahl.

  “Of course.”

  Dahl continued. “Flittermouse, you travel further up the human road and watch for their contraptions. Warn Jiffi at the first sight of anything. Tick, Plumm and I will go in and rescue the slabs.”

  Flittermouse shrilled a quick goodbye and flapped away.

  Tick took another deep sniff. “But how will we see in there?”

  From Ella’s hand came a sudden burst of light. The yeti took a step back. It was almost if she’d understood what they were saying, but then Tick knew that wasn’t likely.

  “Wow, this human girl is amazing,” said Plumm, gazing in wonder at the beam of light that shot out down the tunnel. “How does she even do that?”

  “Brighter than any firefly lamp,” admitted Dahl.

  The yeti watched as Ella crept into the tunnel, following the beam.

  “See you soon, Mum,” said Tick, handing Jiffi his staff. “We’ll have the slabs before you know it.”

  *

  Ella pointed the torch on her phone down the shaft. When she came up to the first pebble she’d thrown earlier that day, she grinned. It was a small thing to be so pleased about, but that pebble was ridiculously comforting. When she passed another little stone, Ella began to walk faster, confident now she knew what she was doing. As she and the yeti walked, the only sound coming down the tunnel was her own footsteps. The pebble trail turned to the right, then carried on past some empty rooms.

  At last, they reached the room where the slabs were stored. Ella pushed open the door and stood back. The yeti filed in without waiting. At the sight of the carvings resting on the floor of the room in a tidy pile, they began to gurgle to each other, running their fingers over the surfaces.

  “Yersss, Ell-a,” said the yeti who’d carried her.

  *

  “Let’s go,” said Dahl, wasting no time. “Tick, you and Plumm grab one side of the slabs. I’ll take the other.”

  Tick, Plumm and Dahl bent down at the knees and took up the slabs. With a slight groan, they lifted them off the ground. The weight of them didn’t enter Tick’s mind. All he could think was that the
slabs were finally back in his hands. That, after all they’d been through, the sett and the Collective could go back to normal.

  Then two things happened: first, the light in Ell-a’s hand dimmed and went out, followed by Jiffi’s worried voice barrelling down the maze of tunnels. “Humans! Humaaaaans!”

  “On our way!” Dahl bellowed down the shaft. “Quick, quick! As fast as you can!”

  “But I can’t see a thing!” said Plumm.

  Tick felt Ell-a take hold of his fur, and he started stumbling backwards, his hands gripping the carvings tightly. “Ell-a will guide us.”

  *

  Ella didn’t need to know any yeti to understand the alarm in the lookout’s voice. Someone was coming – and she had a pretty good idea just who that someone was. What a time for the phone battery to die. It was so dark inside the tunnel that she couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open or not. The tunnels seemed to close in around her and, for the first time that day, Ella was terrified.

  With one hand on the fur of her yeti friend behind her, she felt the wall of the corridor with the other, dragging her shoe along the tunnel floor to feel for the pebbles. At the first intersection, she gave the yeti a shove that said ‘stop’ and felt her way round the corner until she discovered another pebble. Then she hurried back to grab hold of him again.

  At last, it seemed as if the gloom started to lighten. The tunnel entrance. Ella thought she could see a hulking shape blocking the way, but it was hard to tell against the evening sky.

  *

  “Hurry, for fungi’s sake – they’re here, they’re here!” Jiffi shouted.

  “How far?” Tick yelled back.

  A sound of crunching stones, the growl of a human contraption and a flash of bright light – like a beacon of fire – gave him the answer. The humans had arrived.

  “Come on!” yelled Dahl.

  *

  Ella stumbled from the tunnel first, glad to be out of the concrete tomb. She shielded her eyes from the glare of headlights. She could make out the shape of her uncle, with Ana and Walker beside him. Was Uncle Jack holding a rifle?

  “Yeti!” cried Jack. “Good grief! Ella, what the heck is going on? Stay where you are!”

  “I don’t believe it! Yeti!” Walker gasped, his camera blinking. “Rolling!”

  “Everyone keep calm!” said Ana.

  “Come away, Ella,” Jack barked. “You’ll be safe with us.”

  “They’re not dangerous. They just want what belongs to them,” Ella pleaded.

  “You’re not thinking straight. Come over here,” said Jack.

  “No,” said Ella. She felt her eyes fill with tears.

  *

  “Come on, we can still do this – we just need to get away from the light,” Tick whispered. “When I say, we start running up the hill.”

  “No, nobody move,” growled Dahl. “He’s holding a thunderclap! He had one up in the mountain. I’ve heard it roar.”

  *

  “That one is growling – he’s growling!” Jack gulped and raised his rifle. “Move aside!”

  Ana turned on Jack. “Put that gun down, Jack! Someone’s going to get hurt.”

  Jack swung his rifle from one yeti to another. “Ella, get out of the way! Look at the size of them!”

  “But Unc—” cried Ella as Ana made a lunge for the rifle.

  *

  The thunderclap sounded. Dahl let out a roar and dropped the slabs.

  Tick watched as the humans wrestled each other, fighting over the thunderclap. “Go! To the trees!” he shouted as they reached down and lifted the slabs back up. Tick lurched up the hill, dragging Plumm and Dahl with him, all of them wheezing under the weight of the carvings.

  “I’m wounded,” Dahl gasped.

  Jiffi ran to his side, and lifted the carvings. “I’ve got them – take the staff and go!” she cried.

  Dahl pushed on into the darkness, stumbling towards the hillside, using Tick’s staff as a crutch, dragging his leg behind.

  “Did the thunderclap get you?” gasped Tick as they stumbled up the hill.

  “No, the carvings fell on my foot.”

  Tick heard Flittermouse hovering in front of him. “This way!” Tick called out.

  “I think they’re chasing us again!” Plumm cried. “We can’t outrun them.”

  “Oh yes we can,” said Tick.

  “Too heavy – we must leave the slabs,” said Jiffi.

  “No!” Dahl snapped. “We cannot let the humans get them again. There’s too much at stake.”

  “There’s no other way,” Jiffi puffed.

  All of a sudden, the idea fly buzzed to life in Tick’s head. Yes there is!

  “Put the slabs down, all of you. I’ll make sure the humans don’t get them,” Tick ordered.

  Plumm and Jiffi stared at Tick – but there was something in his voice that made them listen. Quickly, they laid the slabs on the ground.

  “Mum, you help Dahl back to the sett,” said Tick. “Flittermouse, you go with them. Plumm, you stay with me.”

  Trust me, said the idea fly.

  “The humans will not get these slabs,” Tick repeated.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dahl said, then he and Jiffi struggled on, Flittermouse hovering above them.

  Now pick up one of those boulders, said the fly.

  Tick grabbed a rock and lifted it above his head. He took a long, deep breath. What he was about to do was unspeakable. They had travelled so far and gone through so much to get the slabs back. He was looking at a fate worse than banishment, if there was such a thing. Tick brought the boulder down with a crack!

  Rock met stone with a crunch, sending rock splinters flying into the bush.

  “Tick!” Plumm gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure the humans don’t get them.” Tick picked the boulder back up and brought it crashing down.

  Plumm hesitated, but then she reached for her own stone and joined in – the two yeti rained down blow after blow, pulverizing the slabs. There would be no deciphering them now. Then they dropped their rocks and moved fast, striding for the trees.

  *

  Ella scrambled up the hillside, chasing after Uncle Jack as he ran after the yeti, the rifle still in his hands.

  “You’re not getting away!” yelled Jack into the gloom at the fleeing yeti. He raised the rifle to his shoulder.

  “No!” Ella shouted.

  “Go away, Ella!”

  “Grandpa Ray wouldn’t want this!”

  At the sound of Ray’s name, Jack paused.

  “Grandpa Ray would tell you to stop,” said Ella.

  Slowly, Uncle Jack lowered the rifle. He turned to face Ella. “What do you know about Grandpa Ray?” he muttered.

  “I read his journal. I found it in your house.” Ella swallowed, trying to catch her breath. “Grandpa Ray wanted the yeti to be treated with care – it was the last thing he wrote. He was interested in the yeti species, not a yeti circus. He would never have used a gun!”

  “But Ella—”

  “You wanted to clear his name by finding proof but you’ve lost sight of what matters. Nature, wildlife, the way you used to care for animals. Showing the yeti to the world will just ruin everything, even if it does make you a massive hit show.”

  Ana caught up to them on the hillside, Walker puffing and panting behind her.

  “The yeti?” asked Ana, peering into the dark.

  Jack stood silent for a moment, panting. “Gone,” he said at last, his voice just a whisper.

  Ana saw the pile of crushed gravel. “They’ve smashed up their carvings too!”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got proof that yeti exist right here.” Walker held up his camera. “Everything OK, Jack?”

  Jack slung the rifle over his shoulder. “Everything’s just fine. Come on. Let’s go home.”

  Later that night, once they’d reached the sett with news of their daring raid, the yeti celebrated. The Makimaki cooks p
repared a vast feast, boiled in the scalding blast of a steam vent: centipedes and wild rice, rabbit-dropping dumplings with nuts, mussels and roots. The meeting hall echoed with laughter and good cheer. Then, when the last of the food disappeared, the light of flickering lanterns dropped down low, and the steady twang of instruments began.

  The Makimaki pushed back the eating benches and danced, the music growing fast and frantic. Plumm grabbed Tick by the hands, and pulled him from the crowd, and, before he could say no, he was twirling and stomping with the rest of them.

  “Enough, enough,” laughed Tick when he could dance no more. He let go of Plumm’s hands.

  “Spoilsport,” teased Plumm, sticking out her tongue.

  They wandered over to where Jiffi and Dahl were talking with Songg.

  “You did so well on our mission,” said Jiffi, ruffling her son’s hair. “You set out to get the slabs from the humans and you did just that. I couldn’t be prouder.”

  “All my life I have protected the slabs, upheld what’s written,” Dahl grumbled. “After all we’ve been through to get them back, and you and Plumm go and smash them to pieces.”

  “I’m sorry, Dahl, but I could see no other way.”

  Dahl chortled. “I’m just teasing. You did well for a pair of younglings.”

  “Wow! I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

  “This journey, the trials we have faced, the yeti we have met…” Dahl took Jiffi’s hand, “…your mum’s story. There’s great wisdom in the slabs, and much to value – that is certain. But I’m starting to believe that our paths through life should live and breathe, rather than stay set in ancient stone. There’s a scent of change in the air. Perhaps you’ve done us all a favour, Tick.”

  “Not bad for an exile,” said Jiffi.

  The Makimaki musicians started a new tune, setting off on a wild rhythm. “How about a dance?” Jiffi prodded Dahl in the arm.

  “I would if it wasn’t for this bad leg,” said Dahl.