by Richard Edde
“Hieroglyphics,” Eastwood said. “I’ve seen them before.”
Stopping only briefly to look at the markings, they continued farther. Eastwood halted after a short distance and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” he asked. “Smells awful.”
“Like rotting flesh,” Gillum said, as a pungent, sweet odor greeted them. He bumped into Doyle who had stopped.
“Shit,” Doyle said.
There on the floor of a small recess carved into the tunnel wall was a mound covered with a blanket. Doyle bent down and pulled back the blanket. Eastwood retched.
They stared at the grisly face of a dead man whose head was half missing. There was nothing left of his eyes but empty sockets. One arm was missing. Dried blood was spattered everywhere.
“Who is he?” Gillum asked, crowding in for a closer look.
“Hell if I know,” Kurt said. “Who covered him with a blanket?”
“Look at the robe he has on,” Doyle said, raising a portion of it into the light from his headlight. “He’s from the monastery. They wore robes like this one.”
“How did he get in here?” Eastwood said. “He’s a long way from the monastery.”
“Who knows?” Doyle said, standing. “The monk at the monastery never mentioned any of their members being missing. Let’s keep moving. The research team can’t be that far ahead.”
As they filed past the corpse, Eastwood couldn’t help thinking, Just how did he get in here?
The tunnel narrowed then widened into a room filled with bones.
Chapter 25
Harry and his team had moved beyond the bone room, but just how far he wasn’t sure. The narrow tunnel twisted and turned and, as they progressed deeper underground, he became completely disoriented. Once, he thought he saw a patch of sunlight but it was just a beam from a headlight reflecting off a rock ahead of them. There were fewer stalactites, a fact Harry thought was due to there being less water at the greater depths. But, so far, their search had only turned up a dead monk, murdered by creature or forces unknown. To wander aimlessly deeper into the mountain no longer seemed an appropriate idea to him, one that might bring disaster to the entire team. Other than the violent death of the monk, there were no clues that pointed to anything substantial. Not a hint as to Dixie’s whereabouts. Hell, she might not even be in this infernal cave. But he knew different. The screams he heard had to be her. The glowing red eyes had unnerved him and shooting at them had made him jumpy, scared. They were in the creature’s world now, one as alien to Harry as the moon, and the creatures were able to attack at will. The team’s food and water were limited so, at some point, Stepan was going to call a halt to their search, return to the surface, and take his SWAT team back to Ulaanbaatar. If that happened, Dixie would be left behind.
The tunnel widened and they encountered a deep chasm that was meters in diameter. Stepan came close to stumbling into it and, after regaining his balance, stood at its edge, calculating its depths. Harry pointed his flashlight into the dark abyss.
“Deep, huh?” Stepan said. He picked up a rock and tossed it into the dark hole. No sound indicated that it ever hit bottom.
“I wonder how deep it is,” Harry said.
“Step in there by mistake and you’re dead,” said Li as he came to stand at Harry’s side.
The chasm filled most of the space offered by the tunnel leaving only a narrow ledge on one side for a path. One slip and it would be over for the unlucky person. The hole was forty or fifty feet across, as best as Harry could estimate, and what lay beyond no one could fathom.
“I’ll scout up ahead,” Stepan said as he peeled off his pack. “The rest of you stay put.”
Harry watched Stepan creep along the shoulder of the chasm while clinging to the rock wall next to it. It was slow going with just enough room to put one foot in front of the other. The ledge was covered with small stones and gravel, making his footing more precarious. Step after step, he inched along, glancing first at his feet then ahead toward the opposite side of the hole. Along the wall, bordering the hole, numerous rock projections forced Stepan to come dangerously close to disaster. Midway, he stopped, kicked a rock out of his way and into the chasm. The light from his headlamp cast its yellow beam into the dark, flickering, as the captain peered into the hole. When he stepped forward to continue, his foot slipped and he fell into the chasm with a loud crash. Harry rushed to the edge of the hole and saw Stepan hugging a large rock twenty feet below. Blood streaked his face and he winced in the light of Harry’s flashlight.
“Stepan,” he called.
“Shit,” the captain called back. “I lost my footing.”
“Are you okay?”
“I bruised my ribs and hit my head. But I’m all right if you can help me back up. I was lucky to grab ahold of this rock. It kept me from falling farther.”
A SWAT team member arrived with a coil of rope, tied a large loop in it, and then tossed it over the edge to Stepan. The captain, after some struggling, managed, with one hand, to get the rope loop over his head and around his waist.
“Okay,” he yelled up to Harry, and soon they began hauling the captain upward.
With each pull of the rope, Stepan helped their effort by finding a rock with his foot and pushing himself toward the chasm opening. After several final tugs, he was out and lay on the ground while two SWAT members checked him over.
“Maybe we ought to turn around,” said Jing. “One of us is going to get killed.”
Stepan sat up. “We can make it around the hole,” he said, softly. “We just need to be careful.”
“You sure you’re okay, Captain?” When Stepan nodded, Harry continued. “We’ll proceed a little farther at least,” he said, putting an arm around Jing. “If we don’t find Dixie pretty soon, we’ll turn around.” He looked into his guide’s dark eyes in the dim light. “I promise.”
Difficult as the going was, one by one they clambered their way around the chasm. Once safely around it, Harry saw that the tunnel widened into still another, larger room. As they dropped to the ground for a rest, four dark forms appeared out of nowhere at the room’s far end. The forms were large, covered in long, dark hair, and moved toward them.
“Stepan! Up ahead!” Harry yelled.
Stepan looked into the darkness in time to see the dark shadows moving rapidly toward them. The stench of putrefaction filled the room.
“Weapons ready!” he ordered.
The SWAT team responded and the room was filled with the sounds of AK-12s and Bizon sub-machine guns being locked and loaded.
“Jing and Li, get behind us,” Harry said, pushing the pair back toward the chasm.
The dark forms appeared out of nothingness and, as they neared, Harry saw they were large, bear-like creatures, with long dark hair instead of short fur. They walked upright. A long snout sat between two eyes that pierced the darkness with a red glow. The putrid odor that accompanied them stung Harry’s nose. It smelled of death and decay and Harry fought to keep his stomach calm.
Stepan’s headlight flashed a bright beam at one of the creatures. It stopped, growled, and ambled toward them.
“Got something I can shoot?” Harry shouted at Stepan.
The SWAT team took positions in front of the two men, their weapons ready. The captain handed Harry a 9 mm pistol from his backpack. “Rack the slide and you’re ready to shoot,” he said.
They waited.
The four creatures moved closer, grunting with each step.
Harry gripped the pistol, his mouth tasting like bitter alum.
The creatures stopped, as if surveying what was ahead of them.
Harry looked at the one in the lead. It was slightly larger than the others, a good eight or nine feet tall. With a flat black snout and upper limbs that functioned like hands and arms, it was more like a giant gorilla or chimpanzee. But its eyes were what caught Harry’s attention. Blazing red eyes like fiery, molten steel, leered at him.
With a grunt from the large crea
ture, the group moved again, coming closer.
“Now!” Stepan commanded.
A hail of bullets plowed into the dark forms. A loud roar emerged from the large creature and two of them fell in the barrage of gunfire. The large one and another scampered off into the darkness, grunting and howling. Just before disappearing, the large creature stopped and shot a glance over its shoulder at Harry.
For a moment, their eyes locked on each other.
Then the creatures were gone.
***
Captain Stepan stooped over the corpse of a dead Yeti, felled in the SWAT team’s gunfire. His headlight danced over the hulk, its light coming to rest on the creature’s large head. Its eyes were open, still gazing with a certain intensity into the darkness beyond. The Yeti’s mouth, partially open, revealed long fangs stained dark and Stepan shuddered at the thought of them sinking into his flesh. The feet were enormous and he realized they matched the footprints seen earlier on the steppe. The beast’s putrid odor smelled of death and decay, and churned Stepan’s stomach.
Harry ambled to his side and squatted beside him. “My God,” he exclaimed. “What a beast. I can’t believe it. I’m looking at the thing but I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
“The damned thing must be ten feet tall. Those feet match the footprints we saw earlier.”
“Sixteen inches at least.”
“The room with all the bones must be where they live. We stumbled into it and disturbed them. They were protecting their territory.”
“What kind of creatures are these?” Harry asked. “Where do they come from?”
“From hell, most likely.”
Harry reached out and ran a hand over the Yeti’s side. Li and Jing joined him and the captain. Hearing Jing’s muffled sobs, Stepan rose and Harry followed suit.
“See, Doctor?” Jing said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I was right all along. The Yeti live.”
“I never dreamed,” Harry said. “I never in my wildest imagination thought something like this could exist in today’s world. It just seemed impossible.”
“Neither did I,” Stepan said. “It’s unbelievable. And there’s more of them. Two got away and no telling how many more lurk in this mountain.”
“We need to find Dixie and get the hell out of here,” Harry said. “I fear it may be too late.”
“You’re right, Harry,” Stepan said. “Let’s get organized.”
“I’ve heard stories of these beasts since I was a child. I never--” Li began.
“My grandfather knew,” Jing said. “And now we all know.”
***
Doyle and Eastwood finished sifting through a pile of bones they found scattered about in the large cavern. Most of them looked like small animal bones that neither could identify. Each had gouges on them that resembled teeth marks, indicating that they had been the victims of vicious attacks. Kurt and Gillum had gathered them and stacked them in a large pile for Doyle and their boss to inspect.
“Something big has been gnawing on these bones,” Doyle said to Eastwood. “Look how deep these gashes are.”
“I still can’t get that poor monk out of my mind,” Eastwood said. “The poor bastard was torn apart.”
“Don’t think about that, boss. Look at these bones. What could possibly have made these marks? I have heard talk that evil beasts lurk in these mountains.”
Eastwood had stooped to pick up a bone when sounds of gunfire echoed through the large cavern.
“What was that?” said Gillum.
“Sounded like gunshots up ahead,” Doyle said. “Rapid fire. Machineguns, most likely.”
“The SWAT team?” Eastwood said.
“That would be my guess,” Doyle said. “But what could they be shooting at? Have they encountered something?”
“Let’s find out, Ben. Take the lead again.”
The four men moved out of the cavern into a tunnel, their headlights shining brightly ahead of them. Doyle stumbled over small rocks that were scattered over the narrow pathway. Moving quickly, the group hurried toward the sound of the gunshots while Doyle uttered a silent prayer, his pistol at the ready. The temperature in the tunnel cooled with their further descent into the mountainside and the air became denser, weighing on them like a heavy, invisible cloud.
They were a hundred feet into the tunnel when the pungent odor of cordite hit them. Doyle stopped short and flashed his light into the far reaches of the darkness ahead of them. Nothing.
They continued to move, now more cautiously, their talking abandoned. When the trail turned to the left, Doyle stopped. A faint glow flickered in the distance.
“There’s light up ahead,” he said. “Stay alert.”
Slowly he led the group toward the shimmering lights and, as they approached, he thought he could hear voices.
Yes. Definitely, voices.
“Douse the lights,” Doyle commanded. “They’re not far away.”
Doyle had to make his way in total darkness, which slowed their progress. Unable to see the ground ahead, they crept along with Doyle feeling his way, one hand on the tunnel wall. He heard Eastwood’s labored breathing behind him and hoped he was not having a heart attack.
His foot came to the edge of a precipice. He dropped to his knees, probed the ground, and discovered a large chasm, its hole filling most of the tunnel area. It was like moving forward in a blind world and, for a moment, he felt empathy for the visually challenged. Standing against the wall Doyle took several deep breaths. He had been inches from disaster. He wanted to turn on his headlight to get his bearings but feared giving away their presence.
Then ahead were more lights and more voices. They were all talking at once, making it impossible for Doyle to understand what they were saying. In the dim glow, he could make out vague figures huddled together, their headlights and flashlights piercing the darkness. The men carried rifles and approached the opposite side of the chasm with caution.
Doyle switched on his headlight.
“Attention!” he called across the chasm. “At ease! Don’t shoot!”
The cacophony of voices ceased and a series of lights were trained on Doyle and Eastwood.
“Who’s there? Who are you?” came a call from across the giant hole.
“What are you doing here?” yelled another voice.
“Was that you shooting?” Doyle said, not answering their questions.
“It was,” answered a voice. Doyle put his light on the voice and noticed it was a tall, American-looking man. Men in fatigues surrounded him, with their weapons pointed Doyle’s way. “I’m coming your way. I see you have guns. Don’t shoot.”
“Come ahead,” Doyle said and he watched the American-looking man inch his way around the chasm until he was facing Doyle and Eastwood.
“You must be Dr. Olson,” Doyle said.
“How do you know my name?” the man said.
“We know all about you,” interjected Eastwood. “You and your research team.”
“But how? Who are you people? Why are you armed?”
“We’re here to relieve you of your discovery,” Doyle said. “The relics you have uncovered.”
“We haven’t found anything of scientific significance,” Harry said. His thoughts flashed to Kesler’s and Stepan’s earlier warnings. “We’re here looking for a colleague abducted a few days ago. We’ve been warned about four men wanting to steal our discoveries. You are them?” He glanced at Stephan who had a scowl on his face and a pistol pointing at Doyle.
“We missed you at your research site, Dr. Olson,” Doyle said. “You’re a long way from your compound.”
“We’re looking for my assistant,” Harry informed them.
Eastwood moved to stand in front of Harry and stared at him with cold eyes. “What was all that shooting about?” he said.
“Yeti.”
“Yeti? You’ve got to be kidding, Doctor.”
“I’m serious. I didn’t believe they existed either until we were attacked a wh
ile ago. Four of the creatures jumped us back there,” Dr. Olson said, pointing back across the chasm. “We killed two of them but the other two got away. We still haven’t found my assistant.”
“We lost one of our men,” Doyle said. “He was on guard duty and simply vanished.”
“Dixie, my assistant, disappeared, or rather was abducted from our campsite while we were returning to our research compound. Signs of a struggle there led us to these caves. The police arrived and have been with us since.”
“How did the police get involved?”
“I don’t know. They just showed up.”
“You think these creatures will attack again?” Eastwood asked. He was now joined by Gillum and Kurt.
“I don’t know,” Dr. Olson repeated. “Seeing all these bones and the many rooms around the other cavern leads me to believe a family of the beasts live down here, so anything is possible. Our guide, Jing, has told us that mountain legend says these things live in the high altitudes and venture lower down in search of food. They could drag their prey in here.”
“We stumbled across a dead man in what looks like a monk’s robe behind us. He was ripped to shreds.”
“Yea, we cut him down. He had been hanging in that little room. He was traveling with us as well.”
“You think our man and your assistant are in these caves?” Eastwood asked. He paced along the rock wall after asking the question.
“Anything is possible at this point,” Dr. Olson said. “I’m sure the police are going to want to return to Ulaanbaatar pretty soon. If we don’t find Dixie soon, we’ll be on our own.”
“Dr. Olson, I suggest you get your team over here where we can discuss this further. If there are more of these Yeti monsters lurking about, we need to have an organized, combined plan to deal with them.”
Dr. Olson signaled Stepan, and the SWAT team began filing past the dark hole. Once everyone was together, Stephan approached Eastwood. “Now exactly what were you saying about relics?”