by Mike Miller
With only moments to go before his death, Baxter tried to concentrate on purity and peace. Discarding the recent events and Snider’s mental torments, he emptied his mind of anguish while replacing it only with a single, dedicated thought of his lovely wife. In his head he apologised to her and asked for her forgiveness for his failure. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
From his coat pocket, he fished out her portrait. While staring down at it, a tear formed in the corner of his eye.
“What’s that?” asked Snider with mock curiosity. “I’ve seen you with that before.”
He trotted towards Baxter and reached forward to wrest the paper from Baxter’s hands. Suddenly awaking from his stupor, Baxter angrily shoved Snider backwards with a single arm. With an untamed growl, he sent the colonel tumbling roughly onto the ground.
“How dare you?” Snider snapped. But Baxter’s wild expression was not a dare that the colonel wished to risk. He retrieved his sabre from the ground, still stunned by such a bold affront to his command and dominion.
“Ready!” Snider declared shrilly, sending the weapons clattering to their owners’ cheeks.
“Aim!” he shrieked loudly, bayonet tips steadied their jouncing in the air to train upon their target.
Baxter closed his eyes and bowed his head. But he did not pray for any absolution or rescue. He was ready to die.
The woman screamed loudly, a piercing wail that surprised everyone in the thick silence. All eyes spun towards her to find her mouth agape in a silent gasp of horror. Her face was a pure portrait of fear. Baxter, the soldiers, the native rogues, and even Colonel Snider, all interrupted the execution to follow her gaze to the source of her terror.
All heads first faced the air behind and beyond Baxter. Then they quickly snapped back down to follow a gigantic beast which had landed in the middle of their group.
Chapter XXIX
The Yeti
The monster was white. From head to toe, the thing was covered in a thick albino fur. With its back to Baxter and facing the soldiers, he could not see the demon’s face, but its immense frame was gigantic. The manner in which the monstrosity moved resembled a massive albino ape, standing upright on two legs but with hulking arms which dangled almost to the ground. Though it was hunched in posture, it advanced with astonishing dexterity. Baxter estimated the beast could be well over the height of two men standing upon each other’s shoulders.
When it flung its right arm in a sweeping hook through the stunned audience, the shaggy tree trunk toppled three men like bowling pins. At the end of its arm was a long, skeletal hand, also perfectly white down to the sharp claws on each fingertip. Each talon was as long and thick as a bayonet blade but slightly curved. Trailing behind its massive forearms were bands of long hair, flickering like ghostly flames as they wafted through the air.
Another swing with its left, now a clawing uppercut, launched a man upwards to the sky. His body splintered in two from the navel to the shoulder at the apex of the arc to release a plume of blood.
Behind the animosity swung a long tail. It too was covered in a fine white fur. From a thick stem at the base of its back, the length tapered into a blunt tip akin to that of a rat. The tail stretched another dozen feet behind the thing, but the appendage busily writhed above the ground instead of sliding along it.
The creature had instantly fought from the centre of the group to the rear to now fence the party in between itself and the stark wall behind them.
The creature was able to decimate their ranks in a second, after which some men finally managed to fire their guns. Some of the soldiers were so bewildered at the eerie apparition, however, that their volleys blasted wildly off their mark. Upon hearing the shots, others were reminded that they too held loaded weapons, quickly discharging them.
Upon the barrage of fire, the creature recoiled defensively, shielding its head with its overgrown arms. Though nerves were frayed and aims were rattled, several shots hit the creature, though the success rate was quite low considering the beast was such a large target at short range.
The bullets collided with fleshy thuds in the monster’s chest and back. The creature even whimpered softly like a hurt dog as it paused in its onslaught. Sparse blotches of deep blue blood mottled a patch of wounds upon the matted white hair of its torso.
The crowd watched in stunned belief as the monster was stopped by the gunfire. After thrashing through their ranks with blinding speed, the beast was now still. Now was the moment for Baxter to escape from Snider and his men, but he was too hypnotically possessed by the unbelievable scene to flee.
Slowly the creature lowered its arms to unmask its gruesome face. While its neck and scalp were covered with the long hair of a mane, its face was bare skin, the light gray colour and rough texture of which reminded Baxter of a pale rhinoceros’ hide. This leathery flesh was tightly wrapped over a bumpy skull that was formed halfway between the high face and round cranium of a man and an animal with elongated proboscis. Its snout protruded outwards like a canine so that its jaws jutted prominently from its face in a deformed underbite, exposing sharp rows of teeth in a lipless mouth. Its nose was a pair of thin slits cut into the top of its muzzle without any flaps of nostril overhanging the passages that opened and closed with every deep breath.
From atop its shaggy head, a dense white mane blossomed down its back in a thick coat of hair. From its brow sprouted two long, curling horns, each white as snow but decorated with a collection of scrapes and scars cut into the bone. Each antler swept back away from the head before curling back forward into two sharpened points like large tusks that ran parallel to the maw like giant pincers.
The monster’s eyes were heavily sunk into a heavy brow. In the middle of each sparkling blue eye were two conjoined white pupils, a pair of overlapping discs that resembled moons eclipsing one another. They burned with an eerie, translucent fire that glowed bright, especially as they methodically moved amongst the struck spectators.
With mouth agape, the monster bared long, sharp teeth perhaps three rows deep, each fang pointed and white as icicles. A long black tongue with a forked end lashed about in its mouth like the tail of a large centipede.
The monster roared, a booming howl that sent a deafening wave across all in earshot. The beast’s dreadful howl was largely a rumbling baritone though offset with sharp tinges of a high-pitched shriek, a thoroughly unearthly and uncomfortable noise to hear. Shortly after the screech had made Baxter wince at its volume, a soft wind of rank death invaded his olfactory senses. The creature was host to an unbearably foul stench of rotting carrion on its cold breath.
The introduction of the beast created panic amongst the group. Some men frantically scrambled to reload their muskets. Some of the younger soldiers were frozen in terror. Most of the people fled for escape. A pair of Chiksai’s rogues fell to the ground in supplication before the beast while intoning a series of chants.
One of Chiksai’s men was the lone soul to immediately attack with unbridled aggression. The man howled his own ferocious battle cry as he dashed towards the monster with a large two-handed battleaxe primed backwards behind his head to strike. With its own overhand swing, the monster quickly and effortlessly stamped the man flat into the ground, instantly transforming him into a disfigured mound of blood and broken bones.
The creature measured the scrambling crowd dispersing in all directions. When the beast decided to spring to its right to pursue those running up the mountain’s path, Baxter scrambled away in the opposite direction to the gorge and the bridge.
The moment Baxter began to move, crippling pain coursed through his body. His stomach felt like it had swallowed a bag of broken glass. His swollen face burned in the wind. But still he charged as hard as he could towards escape. In the distance behind him, Baxter listened to a mixture of men’s screams and ghoulish snarls, interspersed with gunshots and the clang of metal.
Once he reached the bridge, he slowed enough to turn and trot sideways for a few steps to look
back upon the scene he had abandoned. The beast’s carnage had been swift, already decimating another dozen men while a few wounded stragglers were wandering the battlefield weak and dying.
A pair of soldiers backed against the cliff lined up their rifles and fired at the rampaging beast. The beast yelped at the surprising attack from behind, but then turned to angrily confront these opponents.
Baxter cursed their actions as it served only to annoy the white monster and draw its attention back towards himself and the others who had fled for the bridge. The monster began loping back in his direction, quickly scrambling across the ground on all fours. The men who had dared shoot at it turned to flee. The creature lowered its head and rammed its wide horns into the two fleeing men. The slower of the two was knocked to the ground then trampled underfoot. The other soldier was impaled on the monster’s left horn, before the creature carelessly flung his corpse aside as if disposing of some rubbish in a bin.
Baxter returned his attention to the only path available, the bridge back across Jienen Gorge. A trio of other men had outraced him to the bridge and had already begun ambling along its wobbly path. With each new body, the old wood and ropes sagged and strained further. Its tired body thrashed like a sleeper in the midst of a nightmare as the men fought to navigate the wobbling course. Each man’s steps caused further havoc and imbalance, and the bridge creaked loudly in protest. With little choice in the manner, Baxter too boarded the suspended route behind them.
Of the three men before Baxter, the first had almost reached the midpoint. The farther each man had progressed along the spindly contraption, the slower they moved from the increasing teetering of the bridge. Even with the cacophony of death behind him, Baxter could hear the aching groans of the sagging bridge under their combined weight. The noises ushered in a pending failure for the ancient relic, as every creak of dry wood and snap of aged twine inched the bridge closer to collapse.
One Englishman began to fall and hugged the sides of the bridge. As he thrashed uncontrollably to save himself with frightened squealing, he moved them all closer to doom.
Unfazed at the sounds of its crumbling demise, Baxter hastened across as a seasoned veteran of the bridge, having spent most of the afternoon already roaming back and forth across it. He was now grateful for all the practice as those rehearsals helped him move with superior dexterity.
A loud howl broke Baxter’s concentration, forcing him to investigate. He swivelled his head back and found the monster perched at the mouth of the bridge. The thing was sitting on its haunches like a feline. The black tongue flickering over its fangs was not unlike a hungry cat.
Baxter thanked the Lord that the narrow and rickety bridge had given pause to the unstoppable beast. But then the animal tepidly placed one hand upon the initial steps of the bridge. Testing the construction’s strength with some gentle shoves, the monster looked up at Baxter, curling the corners of its jaws upwards and jutting its bony cheeks outwards. The beast was smiling.
The monster began to march along the bridge, carefully placing one hand before the other as its hulking frame worked the line like a gymnast. The horrific sight of the creature’s approaching made Baxter redouble his mad scramble.
In his evasive haste, Baxter ran into the man ahead of him. The startled young boy turned around, and Baxter instantly recognised him as Private Horace.
“Move!” yelled Baxter. But when the lad saw the white beast pursuing them both, he let loose a high-pitched wail and became further paralysed.
“Move, damn it!” Baxter tried to shove the blasted private forward, but the boy was stuck.
The monster lifted its hands up to the rope railing, easily grabbing a side with each paw. With a quick burst of power from its shoulders down, the motion sent a tremendous jolt throughout the bridge, causing all standing men to tumble to their knees.
The soldier who was already dangling from the ropes was shaken loose and fell to his death. He wailed a pitiful cry that faded while he disappeared into the chasm’s fog.
Baxter struggled to his feet, but while on one knee, the panicked Horace snared one of his legs. “Don’t! Please!” the boy pleaded. His gangly arms latched themselves fiercely to Baxter like a trap. His white face was even paler now from fright.
Baxter wrestled to free himself from the boy’s grip when he looked ahead and saw that the first man aboard the bridge had now crossed. An Asian ruffian with long hair stood on firm ground and unsheathed a large sabre from his belt.
“No!” cried Baxter, even reactively reaching a hand out as if he could grab the man, though he stood perhaps fifty feet away.
With both hands, the man brought his blade down forcefully upon one of the supporting ropes. The sword sunk halfway through the thick line.
“Help me!” begged Horace, his eyes childishly shut. Noticing the boy’s pistol tucked into his waist belt, Baxter smashed the kid in the face to pacify his frantic movements. With the young soldier incapacitated, Baxter reached down and drew the weapon. Checking to see the gun was loaded, Baxter carefully aimed at the thug who would sever the bridge. The man pulled the sword up over his head for another hack.
A gruff snort and horrid stench diverted Baxter’s attention. Just behind Horace loomed the monster, only a few steps away from reaching the two of them.
With only one shot to spare, Baxter cursed as he wheeled the pistol back around at the murderous animal. He would not fire until the final second, where proximity meant maximum damage.
The monster slowly advanced upon the two stuck men with menace in its blue eyes. Like a boat in a storm, the bridge bobbed up and down with each of the creature’s approaching footfalls.
“Grab some rope,” Baxter said in a low voice to Horace, as if the creature might interpret his plan. He slowly curled his left arm around a nearby length of rope, the binding stretching from above his elbow down into the tightly fastened grip of his hand.
“What?” Horace asked. But then he realised what had been said, and his eyes opened wide with anxiety that something impossibly worse was about to occur.
With another heavy blow from the Asian’s sword, a top line of the bridge snapped and went limp. The entire path crumpled to the side as it overcompensated for its lopsided support. With another girlish scream of terror, Horace slid off the collapsing bridge with only Baxter’s legs to anchor him. While Baxter’s feet slipped off the now vertical path, Baxter remained clinging to the rope. Still desperately holding onto Baxter’s legs, Horace legs dangled into the void, kicking wildly as if trying not to sink and drown.
The bridge’s rigidity dissolved for the monster as well, sending it off over the side. But one hand quickly grabbed the now overhead bridge to prevent its fall. The abomination coped with the now upside-down path by climbing arm over arm to use the wooden planks like the rungs of a flattened ladder overhead. Unfazed by the difference in gravity, the creature now continued its approach.
The combined weight of Horace with Baxter’s own bulk threatened to dislocate Baxter’s arm. The pain was staggering, but if he released his arm from the rope’s captive snare, then they would fall to their dooms. He kicked at Horace, but the boy had laced his arms through Baxter’s belt, completely entwining his body with Baxter’s.
“Shoot it!” cried the distressed boy.
But Baxter remained concerned with aiming the gun square at the monster’s face. He only had one shot and one chance. The monster’s snarling jaws were now ready to devour him.
Baxter fired the gun, and the creature yelped. Baxter could see his bullet squarely hit its mark. But instead of a gory wound, the only mark was a dark bruise which had appeared in the middle of the thing’s forehead. The creature shuddered from the blow, then yelled ferociously. It swung another loping arm over to cover the next chunk of bridge. Baxter worked on his next manoeuvre but knew that the monster would be upon him in the next second.
Unable to reload the single-shot weapon, Baxter instead hurled it at the monster. The throw was amazingl
y precise given the awkward imbalance of hanging by one arm. The wood and metal contraption futilely clattered off the beast’s face with no effect. Amused at the gesture, the creature playfully smiled again, exposing its wretched teeth.
“I don’t want to die,” Horace lamented softly.
Unbeknownst to any of the occupants on the bridge, the only survivor to successfully cross back had continued to cut the lines. With another blow, the man severed a second length of supporting rope.
As the monster released its back hand to swing it forward through Baxter, the bridge lurched violently, dropping them all a few feet lower into the wide crevasse. The jolt forced the monster to fasten both hands onto the bridge. When Baxter looked down at the terrorised Horace, the boy was too scared to move a muscle. “No,” he quietly concluded.
The weight of the bridge and its three inhabitants was too much strain on the old structure. With a pair of sharp twangs and the rumbling of broken rock, the bridge separated from its final moorings on the cliff. The man who had severed the connections watched happily as the loose ends safely fell away from him, ridding his side of the gorge from the carnage once and for all.
For just a moment, Baxter and Horace weightlessly drifted in space, suspended over the chasm. Baxter used the opportunity to quickly wrap his other arm onto a stray bit of rope. But soon the pair fell together through space. Their motion began to accelerate, curving towards the far side of the bridge still fastened to land. The combined mass of Baxter, Horace and monster became a pendulum to swing swiftly towards the cliff wall. Between the wind, their movement, and the pull of gravity, numerous forces threatened to rip Baxter from the bridge and throw him down into the gorge with even more velocity than a simple freefall. Baxter’s arm muscles strained from the challenge while he hoped that he could withstand the impact.