Club Eternity: The Ninth Jonathan Shade Novel

by Gary Jonas

  The Tajik men spoke, and while I couldn't understand a word they said, I caught the emotion in their voices. They were scared shitless.

  Pavel and I rushed to the edge of the crevasse and grabbed the rope. We tugged it up. The weight at the end told us all we needed to know. Relief flooded through me. Yuri and Brenda were still attached.

  “Hang on!” I called down to them.

  The Yeti screamed at us, and paced the ravine.

  I stared at it while we pulled Yuri and Brenda upward. “This is the narrowest part of the crevasse, right?”

  “Here, yes.”

  “Too far for that thing to jump.”

  “Do not give it any ideas,” Pavel said, and kept hauling our people up.

  “Damn, they're heavy,” I said as we pulled.

  “Yuri must be eating more than his share,” Pavel said with a smirk.

  The Yeti howled at us, then clawed its way up the cliff face.

  “Look at that thing climb,” I said.

  “It knows we are here, and it caught our scent. It will be hunting us now.”

  We finally pulled Brenda and Yuri up. Brenda struggled, but Yuri wasn't moving.

  “It's not my fault,” Brenda said. “When we hit the side of the cliff, Yuri pulled me up and my cheek touched his. But it was an accident. I promise!”

  “Oh shit,” I said.

  We pulled them all the way up and turned Yuri over. He was a rock.

  “Yuri?” Pavel said. “Yuri? What happened?”

  “I can't get free,” Brenda said.

  Yuri's stone hand was wrapped around her wrist.

  “I do not understand,” Pavel said. “Yuri!”

  Pavel touched his brother's stony face, but no matter how many times he called his brother's name, his brother did not answer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  While the abominable snowman howled in the distance, I focused on getting Brenda free from Yuri. Due to the give in her coat, I managed to dig my fingers under Yuri's thumb. That was the weakest link, so I pulled with all my strength. The stone was brittle and the thumb cracked and snapped off. Brenda pulled her hand free.

  Kelly and I dragged Yuri's statue over to a flat area. It would be fine there for the season. Perhaps next year, Pavel could return and take the body home for burial.

  Brenda shook as I helped her get back to the trail. “I'm so sorry,” she said.

  “It wasn't your fault,” I said.

  Victor came down the trail. He looked stronger and more rested than I expected.

  “We should get to the next camp,” he said.

  Kelly helped Pavel get moving. He kept looking over at the statue of his brother. “Frozen so fast. I do not understand,” he kept saying.

  We joined up with the porters, but there were only two of them. They threw surreptitious glances at each of us and spoke to one another in hushed tones, trying to stay close together and away from the rest of us.

  “Where's the third guy?” I asked.

  Victor shrugged. “He must have fallen into the crevasse during the confusion.”

  I stared at him.

  He leaned toward me, smirked and said, “A man's got to eat,” then moved along the trail with a spring in his step.

  So our party was down to two Tajik porters, a guide, a vampire, Kelly, Brenda, and myself. We had a Yeti on our trail, and only one gun.

  We reached the second camp. The porters built a fire, set up tents and then kept themselves apart from us. I suspected they'd take off during the night. They were like the red shirts in Star Trek and they knew it.

  Kelly escorted Brenda to my tent. “I’ll see that she gets some rest,” Kelly said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Victor agreed to take the first watch as we had no idea if or when the Yeti would catch up to us. I hoped his vampire strength would be a match for that thing, but I wasn't convinced.

  Pavel sat on his sleeping bag in the tent staring at his hands. He'd barely spoken since his brother's death except to question how it was possible.

  This was my best time to get away without being noticed, so I moved off like I was going to take a piss, but instead I pulled off my left glove, pushed up my coat sleeve and activated the bracelet to take me to Club Eternity.

  The alcove in front of the door was nice and warm compared to the mountain. I brushed snow off my coat, and pushed through the door. The crampons clacked on the hard floor. I pulled off my other glove, and stuck it in my coat pocket. I unzipped the jacket, and looked around at the patrons. Hotei had his usual spot at the bar. I walked up to the jolly guy.

  “Belly rub for some credits?” I asked.

  “I do not need any credits,” he said with a smile. “Oh, it's you. Where did you come from?”

  “Tajikistan,” I said.

  “I have never been.”

  “You don’t want to. It’s one of those places with freedom of the press as long as you say what the regime approves.”

  “I know of many such places. You would like a drink?”

  “I'd like to get a gun.”

  Hotei's smile faded. “Whatever for?”

  “Protection, of course.”

  The bartender spotted me. “Well,” she said, “if it isn't Mr. Paper Money. You're making a mess on my floor.”

  I glanced down and saw that I'd left a trail of melting snow behind me. “Oh, sorry about that.”

  “We don't really have a slip and fall policy in here, but it looks bad. Mop is in the back room. I'll get it for you.”

  She lifted a gate and moved out from behind the bar to push on a wall panel, which slid open to reveal a back room. She returned with a mop and a yellow plastic bucket on wheels. She shoved the mop handle at me.

  “Get to work,” she said.

  “Really?”

  “You're a human, not a god. Get to work.”

  “I feel like Rodney Dangerfield,” I said, but I took the mop and cleaned up my mess. When I brought the mop and bucket back to her, she pointed at the panel.

  “Put it away,” she said.

  So I did. I pushed the panel, and stepped into the back room. The room was filled with crates of various sizes. Some had recognizable brand names stamped on them, and some had odd symbols.

  Along one wall, stood a rack with a variety of weapons. Crossbows, lances, spears, muskets, rifles, and a few pistols.

  “What’s taking you so long?” the bartender asked.

  When it comes to dealing with gods and creatures in life and death situations, it's far better to ask for forgiveness instead of permission, so I walked over to that weapons rack and took down a Colt 1873 Single Action Army revolver.

  I checked to make sure the Peacemaker was loaded, and I was in luck. Six rounds, ready to go. I tucked it into my coat.

  “What are you doing?” the bartender asked, stepping into the back room.

  “Saying goodbye,” I said and activated the bracelet.

  I winked out of the bar and appeared back on the mountainside.

  The wind cut into me, and I quickly zipped my coat and donned my gloves. I trudged back to camp and checked on Victor. He sat alone in the dark, scanning the approach to the camp.

  I went to the tent, and found that Brenda had gone to sleep. She’d had a rough day, so I tried not to disturb her. I used a lantern on low light to check the gun. It was clean. I removed the six cartridges to examine each individually before reloading the weapon, but to be safe, I left the chamber under the hammer empty and tucked the extra bullet into my pants pocket. The gun was pristine. I put the gun in my coat pocket.

  Now if that Yeti returned, I'd be ready. Okay, maybe I'd need a bit of a warning so I could get the gun out of my coat, but as it had been roaring and growling on its first approach, I suspected that was its habit.

  Later, when I drifted off to sleep, my dreams were filled with Yetis coming at me. They all called me a gun thief, and danced on a tombstone made of meat before opening their mouths to unleash a torrent of ice b
ullets that thwacked around me like hail on a rooftop.

  I opened my eyes.

  The sound wasn't like hail. It was like raindrops.

  It was still dark, but from the clarity of my vision, I knew the sun was starting to come out. The dripping continued, but it sounded like it was only in one spot on the tent.

  Brenda stirred in my arms. “What is that noise?” she whispered.

  I grabbed a flashlight, crawled out of the tent and raised the light. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at.

  The lower half of a man hung over a rocky outcrop. The dripping was blood falling on our tent.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Kelly and I took the remains of the porter down from the rock. The other porter was missing. Brenda and Victor stood with Pavel watching as we dug a short grave and deposited the lower half of the man's torso into the hole.

  As we kicked dirt and snow on top of the corpse, Kelly gave me an intense look. “I didn't hear anything,” she said.

  “Neither did I,” I said.

  “But I didn't hear or sense it, Jonathan. The stealth required to sneak in here, grab the porter and rip him in half seems a bit impossible to me.”

  “I understand that, but here he is.”

  “The creature set us up by making such a big racket yesterday with all its growling and roaring when it really hunts in silence. Extreme silence.”

  We finished covering him up. Pavel wanted to talk, but I ignored him and everyone else, and instead moved off toward the tent the porters had shared. There weren't any strange footprints leading to the tent, but there were two sets of boot prints leaving the camp.

  “Kelly,” I said, and pointed.

  “Let's see where they lead.”

  We followed the tracks around a bend and down a steep slope. The porters followed a path around and through a rocky area.

  “Victor killed another porter yesterday,” I said when we were out of range of the others.

  “You think he killed this guy too?”

  “I'd rather it was him than that Yeti thing.”

  “And you think I wouldn't have heard Victor?”

  “I'm thinking Victor could have done his hypnotic trick on you to make you forget.”

  “He said he wasn't going to do that.”

  “And you think vampires don't lie? He’s been messing with Brenda and Pavel for sure. Why not you?”

  “I would hope I'd know if my memory had been altered.”

  “I'm not saying it was. Just saying it's possible.”

  “You don't trust him either.”

  “I trust you and Brenda and Esther.”

  “Has Esther reported in?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Should we be concerned?”

  “She’s a ghost. I think she’ll be fine.”

  We circled around another bend and came across a clearing with signs of a struggle and crimson stains in the snow and a trail of red leading to a cliff. One set of footprints led off toward another cliff in the opposite direction. A second set of large footprints appeared ten yards away on a trajectory to cut off the other path. There were signs of another struggle where they converged, though the human prints veered away first. Beyond that, a plowed area of snow led right off the cliff as though the Yeti had hurled the porter and sent him sliding off the edge. The large footprints tracked off to a tree and disappeared.

  “So the Yeti can climb trees and mountains.”

  “Well, he won't have trees for much longer,” Kelly said. “We're almost to the tree line. The next few thousand feet of altitude will take away that advantage, anyway.”

  We walked to the edge of the cliff where the porter had gone over. Thirty feet down, there was an impact imprint, and more Yeti tracks leading to and away from that spot.

  “I think the Yeti went down and retrieved his meal,” I said.

  “Why would it leave part of its food hanging over your tent?”

  I heard a soft thump behind me.

  Kelly heard it too.

  We spun. The Yeti had us blocked off from the path. We were backed up to the edge of the cliff. It slowly stalked toward us, moving this way and that as it checked us out.

  “Smart little bastard,” Kelly said.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gun I'd taken from Club Eternity. “Not smart enough.”

  I didn't waste any time. I raised the pistol, cocked the hammer to rotate the cylinder, and fired.

  The Yeti flinched when the bullet struck.

  I fired again.

  And again.

  By then the beast closed the distance and leaped at us.

  Kelly shoved me aside, and whipped around with an incredible spin kick. She connected with the Yeti's face and sent it careening off the cliff.

  I rushed back to her side and we stared down at the Yeti as it picked itself up from the ground thirty feet below us. It roared and began clawing its way up the cliff face.

  “Nice try, you ugly little prick,” I said and fired two more shots.

  I hit the damn thing all five times. Three were center mass. Two were in the shoulder and neck area because it moved its head. It flinched, and I could see red marks where the blood matted its fur, but it didn't stop coming.

  “I've got this,” Kelly said and jumped off the cliff.

  She dropped straight at the beast.

  It reared back, and tried to swipe at her, but it misjudged her rate of speed and she slammed into its face with both feet. They fell.

  Kelly landed on top. The beast lay stunned for a moment, and she slid off it. As soon as she stood, the Yeti attacked. But Kelly was ready. She caught the beast's arm, yanked as she turned and taught the Yeti a little something about leverage as she flipped him over her hip. She kept hold of his arm, and as she pinned the animal, she jerked that arm down over her thigh.

  I heard the crack from the top of the cliff.

  She straddled the Yeti, wrapped her hands under its chin and gave a savage twist. Again, I heard the snapping bones. She released the Yeti and it flopped on the ground.

  “Throw me a rope,” Kelly said.

  “I'll have to go back to camp to get one.”

  “Never mind,” she said and began climbing up the cliff face.

  While she worked her way toward me, I took the last bullet from my pants pocket and loaded it into the Peacemaker. I dropped the spent shells into my coat pocket and put the Colt back there too. When Kelly reached the top, I extended a hand and she let me help her up.

  “I was thinking,” I said.

  “Uh oh,” Kelly said.

  “No, you'll like this idea.”

  She sighed. “What?”

  “We should take the Yeti’s body back to civilization with us. Donate it to science. Get our pictures in National Geographic.”

  “Good luck with that,” she said. “I'm not dragging that thing around. It weighs a good six hundred pounds.”

  We started back toward the camp. “But think of the fame. We'll go down in history as the discoverers of the Yeti. We'd get to speak at conferences and everything.”

  “What kind of conferences would have us speak about a Yeti?”

  “In the States, we'd probably be relegated to Bigfoot conferences, but they'd probably pay for room and board.”

  “There are Bigfoot conferences?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And people pay to attend?” Kelly asked.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Normal people?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then you'll fit right in.”

  And she refused to discuss it any further.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Right as we returned to camp, Kelly and I disappeared.

  The last thing I saw there was Pavel's eyes widening.

  The next thing I saw was the door to Club Eternity.

  My stomach flipped around on me, but I hadn't eaten yet so there was nothing to throw up. Kelly shook her head and we straightened at the same
time. A slender bald man with well-defined muscles stood beside the bartender. The bald man wore a tight black T-shirt and chinos. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

  “This is the guy,” the bartender said. She leaned against the door, and frowned at me.

  The bald man rubbed his chin. “I am given to understand that you absconded with a relic from my collection. An 1873 Colt Peacemaker.”

  “What's your point?” I asked.

  “How is it that a common criminal gained access to our establishment?” the man asked.

  “Don't look at me,” the bartender said. “I can't admit anyone. I just wanted you to know who took your gun.”

  “Jon Bon Jovi,” I said.

  “I'm sorry,” the bald man said. “Did you say Jon Bon Jovi? I hardly think he’s a thief.”

  “No. That's who you remind me of. The lack of hair threw me off for a minute, but yeah, you look like a bald Bon Jovi.”

  “My existence would be complete if that mattered to me,” the man said. “My name is of no concern to you, but I manage this establishment, and you have abused the privilege of communing in the club.”

  “Oh, are you going to take away my bracelet?”

  “I'll use short words so you'll understand me. You will return my gun to me right here, right now.”

  “You stole the gun?” Kelly asked.

  “For all the good it did us.” I took the gun out of my coat pocket, opened it up and removed the one bullet, then snapped the cylinder closed. I handed the gun to the bald Bon Jovi. “Hold out your hand,” I said.

  He hesitantly did as I asked, and I dropped the bullet and spent shell casings into his palm.

  “You fired my pristine Colt Peacemaker?”

  “Yeah, well, we were under attack.”

  “This weapon had never been fired before. It was an original in mint condition.”

  “It's still an original,” I said. “And it shoots straight, too.”

  The man fumed.

  “It lacks stopping power, though. You have something else I can use?”

  “You're lucky I don't have the both of you hanged, drawn, and quartered. This is why I disapprove of allowing mortals in the club.” He gave the casings and cartridge to the bartender then examined the gun, going so far as to sniff the barrel. “Did it handle well?”