by Mike Miller
The Cold and the Dark
Jah climbed first into the cavern as he insisted. He stood defiantly at the mouth, square in the middle of the egress as if to assert his conquering presence on the territory. His head slowly surveyed the rolling curves of the frozen cavern like a newly crowned king gazing upon his kingdom. As he had followed the trail of carnage to this specific spot, Jah could now see that it continued deep into the lair. Here the dark substances of death and refuse were matted and coated under thick ice. These patches lacked the shine and colour of his previous encounters with the Yeti’s wake, thus indicating the death was aged from long ago. Though the opening dwarfed the little man, the boy remained unfazed by any threat from its looming shadows and vastness.
When Baxter eventually arrived at the mouth of the cavern, Jah took that as his cue to depart, behaving as if he were embarrassed to be associated with the lollygagging soldier. Rubbing his hands together for warmth after clutching at the frozen rock for the climb, Baxter felt even colder now in this new whorl of ice shrouded in darkness despite the sun breaking bleakly through the gray sky. The swirling blues and greys of the cavern’s recesses were like staring into a dark pool of water.
When he looked away and back down the slope he had just scaled, his sight fell upon the donkey moored to the base of the climb. The animal obediently responded with a near homesick expression, or perhaps that was just Baxter’s mind hopelessly projecting the emotion onto the simple beast. He had looked to tether the animal somewhere, but found nothing to which he could tie the reins. Realising that the animal might as well be free to roam wherever it pleased, it warmed Baxter to know that it loyally remained in wait for him, unlike so many of Baxter’s other upright companions on this venture who abandoned him at every opportunity.
Thinking of those betrayals, Baxter turned to watch Jah’s black cloak disappear into the depths of the cave. The solider checked to ensure both his firearms were still dutifully loaded. With his revolver and rifle ready for war, he drew his sword, swore a quiet prayer, and then proceeded into the cave.
He felt the warmth of his love’s portrait through his coat pocket upon his chest. “Be with me,” he said softly.
Despite his wandering deeper into the solid rock, the cave remained at a consistent level of darkness. Baxter was greatly tempted to light a torch, which previously proved to be a useful weapon, but feared that doing so would announce his presence as well.
Soon his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light as the world never slipped into full darkness. Strange rays and illumination seemed to reflect throughout the shiny surface of the icy confines. Heralding from unknown avenues and rivulets, the sunlight still invaded the space enough to define the shape of the walls through the murky darkness.
It helped that he had his nimble scout to follow as Jah effortlessly navigated the unruly terrain of stepped rock and abrupt extrusions. But with each of Baxter’s missteps and stumbles, his leader would stop to seethe, if not scowl outright at him. The strange absence of sound made the scraping blunders of his slipped feet echo through the long, misshapen hallways in a disorienting manner. Any miscue made Baxter’s heart afraid to beat lest it not only annoy his companion, but attract the monster’s attention too.
After a while, the tension made Baxter impatient. He was tempted to question their direction or if any recent traces of the monster had yet been detected. But when Baxter’s nostrils revolted at the malodorous stench he easily identified as the creature’s, he knew they were on the correct path. With every step, the rank smell grew more foul. Any keen detection for the slightest traces of the monster were unnecessary when the distinct smell was clearer than fresh footprints.
Jah had just scampered up a small wall and stood atop it when he looked back at his follower and froze. Baxter’s body instinctively became rigid too under the scrutiny. He squinted his eyes to better peer at the oddly behaving boy, only to find that Jah was not looking at Baxter, but through him and beyond him. Jah slowly and silently rotated his body around to square back up towards Baxter. Jah’s grip shifted down his staff so that the top slid up from his fist.
Baxter knew something was happening but not what. He closed his eyes and vented some pressure with a long but quiet exhale. The breath made a small cloud of mist that quickly evaporated. Slowly Baxter turned.
While Jah was perched atop of a low escarpment at the far end of the wall, Baxter now noticed he was at the end of a large hollow. With his attention concentrated ahead to follow his guide, Baxter had overlooked the vast chamber which opened to his right. He peered into its depths and could not find an end. The black void seemed infinite.
Remaining obdurately frozen, Baxter forced his eyes to adapt to the dim light that trickled in on his end from some overhead holes in the ceiling. With each passing second, the sprawling room came more into focus. Thin spires dangled from the ceiling while also twisting up from the floor. They were frozen flames attacking one another while defying any logical sense of gravity. Yet nothing especially peculiar emerged, so Baxter checked on Jah who still cautiously stared into the darkness like a feline stalking some prey. Through the tangle of icicles that connected in a wide, clumsy netting, Baxter’s eyes searched even farther and deeper for meaning.
A slight movement demanded Baxter’s full attention. Baxter’s eyes were so wide they risked popping from his skull, and still his eyelids strained farther apart. The darkness that covered the farthest depths of the chamber remained unperturbed. Baxter checked back for Jah, who had now lowered himself onto the ground. Feeling ashamed that he felt obliged to beg permission to investigate first from this child, Baxter boldly advanced closer towards the curiosity.
With his sabre in one hand and pistol in the other, he moved deeper into the darkness. The shadows chilled him as he moved away from the light. By now he had become dizzy from his efforts to see the invisible. His unblinking eyes were weak and dry from their constant staring. When he stopped to blink them closed in a quick bid at rejuvenation, the perfect blackness of his shut eyes was comfortable in its uniformity. Rather than continue his alert glaring, he relied upon his old trick of shutting his eyes hard, forcing tiny nebulas of false light to bubble throughout his empty vision. In the blindness, a chill came over him, and quickly Baxter became afraid that something evil loomed over him. There was an intangible change to the air, and he knew that the monster was now present.
When Baxter opened his eyes, the darkness was carved into shape and form. His rested and realigned eyesight could now better detect the smooth waves of the walls and the sharp chisels of the jagged icicles. Through the contrasted terrain of the enclosed environment, he instantly saw the movement again. It was the Yeti.
At first the soft rippling that Baxter detected was the Yeti’s broad chest heaving softly as it breathed. From that initial reference point, Baxter could then trace the rest of the massive creature’s outline. The beast was a staggering figure that was doubled his own height as the monster stood upright. While he began a sharp gasp in fright, Baxter saw the monster’s gruesome features and knew quickly he must stifle any yelp. The monster was asleep.
With shut eyes and head lolled limply to the side, the Yeti’s horned visage lay nestled against the stone wall for support. And while the beast appeared to stand upright on its back legs, it was actually relaxed back on the rough wall with arms spread outwards like it was seated upon a throne. The creature was dead still but for its wide ribcage which softly and rhythmical rose and fell with breath. From its peculiar pose, it was as if the beast had leaned back on its heels, and the mountain wall had risen to cradle the thing in a cool embrace.
Though Jah was a good dozen feet back behind Baxter, he clearly had spotted the beast too. In fact, a strange twinkle of pleased contentment sparkled in his eyes at recognition of the treasured discovery. Jah slowly crawled closer to join the two.
Baxter pondered his next move, to wait for support or advance while he could. Jah’s power would be well-utilised against
such a powerful foe, but striking the unconscious monster swiftly could well be the best route. Having seen the creature’s skull deflect even gunfire, he suspected that the thing’s throat had to be the choicest point to attack. Baxter’s hand squeezed the hilt of his sword firmly as if trying to wring the correct decision from it. Perhaps the best option would be to simply flee for his life.
A sudden wave of confidence flooded Baxter, as he convinced himself he was here at this place in this moment with a distinct purpose. This path was destiny, the beast’s slaying was his redemption. Without hesitating to second-guess the wild instinct, he crept forward towards the slumbering creature.
He drew himself to within a few paces of the beast and still it had yet to detect him. The creature was now on the periphery of striking distance from his sword. This fortuitous development greatly pleased the warrior, an odd break almost too good to be true. He reared the blade back to plunge it up through the creature’s neck.
A sharp hiss came from behind him. “No!” seethed Jah in a pronounced whisper.
Baxter’s mind was flummoxed by the foolish act of breaking the silence. With a dismissive hand, Baxter waved away the brash young warrior since now he was the lead and in control of the situation.
Something flashed before Baxter, sending him falling backwards in defence. His outstretched off-hand caught him from tumbling completely onto his haunches. But his padded glove still made a loud scratch when catching the ice. Of greater concern was what exactly had lashed out at him. Baxter realised that the monster’s tail had sprung to life.
Like a pale serpent, it blindly slithered from its host, flicking itself to within inches of Baxter’s face. He cowered in retreat and prayed that the thrashing appendage would not make contact with him. The tail’s owner remained unconscious and motionless though the tail flailed wildly about to slap the rocks with thick blows. As the Yeti gruffly growled too, Baxter believed the monster was having a nightmare.
Suddenly the tail stopped whipping the air, and eased slowly down onto the ground as if drugged. Baxter waited to see if the tail was feigning its sleep, but it only moved the very tip to softly tap upon the ground. Rising to his feet, Baxter resumed his approach. He carefully stepped over the prone tail. While looking down at the dangerous limb he was straddling, he prayed it would not be disturbed. He stepped the other leg across, and was now confronted with the monster’s taut stomach.
Noticing a small mound of rock beside the Yeti, Baxter gently ascended the miniature hill so that his face was level with the Yeti’s for a superior position to strike. At this proximity the creature’s cool, rancid breath made Baxter want to gag. But he carefully raised his blade back over his head and readied the sword for what he hoped would be a deathblow.
A sharp crack behind Baxter rattled him. He turned back to see that the source was Jah swinging his staff into the hard ground, an impudent and annoyed expression on the boy’s face.
When Baxter whirled back to face the Yeti, its eyes were open. Only inches apart from the thing, Baxter stared deeply into the blue eyes and their shimmering white pupils to see the monster quickly comprehend to what it had awoken.
Baxter slammed the sword down when the Yeti angrily roared. The blade dug into the creature’s shoulder as it shifted, though hardly an inch of the edge worked its way into the body before the sword rattled out of the dense hair and flesh. While Baxter helplessly watched his swing miss wide, the creature slammed him aside to the ground.
With little hesitation, the Yeti rose to its feet, lifting a mighty claw overhead to slash at the downed soldier. Baxter raised his arm over his face in a pathetically meagre defence. The creature’s dark eyes delighted at the thrill of the kill.
From the side, Jah flew into the scene foot-first. The kick crushed the monster square on the jaw with deft accuracy to stun its attack. While the spritely warrior ricocheted off to land nimbly on a small outcropping of rock, the creature stumbled aside from the ambush, toppling to one knee with an outstretched palm to stop its fall.
Jah stood now to the beast’s left, to which the monster turned while opening its eyes and mouth wide to stretch awake and recuperate from the blow. Then the creature lolled its horned head around to angrily sneer at the bellicose little man. With a quick dip of its head, the Yeti inspected the tiny foe from top to toe, before the creature barked a short, angry snarl. With a confident smile, Jah playfully tapped his staff against the ground in a series of rhythmic, resonant cracks.
Baxter decided that the creature’s growl and Jah’s wooden patter were cues to leave and regroup. Crawling away on his hands like a baby, Baxter certainly felt like an outclassed lightweight at this skirmish. At a safer distance, he readied his sword back before him with one quivering hand. He clamped the other onto the hilt to help steady the blade. Neither Jah nor the Yeti cared.
The monster rushed forward while Jah leaned back at the onrush. With a giant swing of its paw, the beast’s powerful arm first crashed through a thin stalagmite as if it were a stream of smoke.
The plucky Jah ducked beneath the blow to allow the Yeti’s arm to then crash into the stone behind him. The collision of the monster’s hand into the wall sounded with a mix of cracks and squishes. The creature yelled as its hand maladroitly broke upon the rock.
The yowl of pain was interrupted when Jah hopped atop the creature’s own knee to pop the Yeti’s jaw closed with a firm shot from his staff.
Baxter became emboldened enough to participate in the fray, bellowing as he rushed forward with sword raised back overhead.
When Jah landed behind the monster, he went to spin his staff into his target’s backside. But just as he began to whip the stick, it struck a small column of rock that jarred the staff from his hand. Jah only had enough time to be surprised at the unexpected development in the sparring when he was blasted from behind by the monster’s tail. While his rod rattled loose on the ground, the boy tumbled across the slick floor, bouncing off a few uneven stones.
Watching his ally roll across the ground away from the Yeti inspired doubt in Baxter’s plan, so he paused in his charge.
The Yeti lumbered towards Jah, its hands comfortably bracing itself on the rocks like gripping the handrails on a staircase. Weakened and dazed, Jah recovered in time to roll away from the Yeti’s next strike, though its claws were able to slash part of Jah’s cloak to render strips of black cloth from his body.
Even watching the exchange from afar in the darkness, Baxter could discern a noticeable change in Jah. Without his staff and wit blood drawn, Jah’s movement was erratic, his decisions sloppy. The monster’s offence was ruthless, and the feisty but dazed boy did all he could to dodge each blow, hopping and rolling about the rocks while narrowly escaping each attack. Whatever plan of attack was made, it had vanished, and now the youth was in a pure battle for survival.
When Jah ducked another sweeping forearm from the beast, he found enough opening and confidence to swing his fist into the monster’s chest, the initial blow of a swift combination that landed three more hits in succession. The ferocious yell he cried was more from desperation than rage.
The punches did nothing as the Yeti roared and flung an annoyed backhand at the scrappy nuisance, swatting Jah aside to crumple flat on the floor. If Jah could move, he did not. Baxter thought he may have detected the boy’s head shift slightly, but if his body were not broken, his spirit surely seemed so.
Looming over the defeated foe, the Yeti raised its foot upwards to stamp Jah into oblivion.
With a wild cry to contribute to the surprise, Baxter plunged his sword into the monster’s back. With his full weight behind the leaping stab, the blade was able to slip a few inches into the rough, hairy hide, sliding into the flesh with a crunching sound like crinkling grains of sand. Failing to breach the creature’s back enough with his sword, Baxter tumbled to the ground as the sword popped from of the wound to land beside him.
Perhaps more from shock than any actual pain, the monster yowled aloud, it
s ghoulish face contorting and opening wide in anguish. The creature tried to reach back around behind itself to nurse or inspect the wound, but it could not reach the afflicted area. A thick blue blood oozed from its back. When the Yeti twisted around to chase its own backside, the crazed animal splattered some tiny rivulets of blue blood onto Baxter’s left hand. Even though he had existed in this subzero climate for awhile now, he was still stunned at the intense chill of the tiny drops which even burnt through his thick glove. The numbing pain grew in intensity so rapidly that he ripped the glove from his hand and cast aside the infected item.
But the creature had forgotten its cut and now turned its wrath upon the soldier. Its jagged teeth ground together sending Baxter to his feet and running for dear life. The monster began its pursuit.
Without thinking, Baxter charged through the maze of rock and ice, surging into the biggest openings he could find.
The monster moved swiftly and would have easily overtaken the fleeing soldier, but the Yeti’s movements were frequently hampered by the labyrinthine layout of rocks. While Baxter dashed out of the large cave into a small offshoot, the massive frame of the Yeti was frequently diverted by large columns of rock.
Growing frustrated at the zigzagging path it was forced to take, the creature bellowed loudly, then lowered its head and began to smash through the lesser obstacles. The pair of horns on its heads easily destroyed the weaker formations of rock and ice.
Cold sweat dripping down his brow, Baxter rushed through the icy caves. The mixture of shadows assaulted his eyes and disoriented him as he danced between light and dark. He was unsure if he was heading out of or into the lair, but only knew to dash away from the monster. At first the Yeti’s crashing and grunts seemed to grow distant behind him. But then an angry roar announced its return as the monster’s thunderous stomps neared him.
His sword gone, he felt the rifle galloping atop his back as if trying to urgently and impatiently remind the man of its presence. Otherwise, his pistol had previously been feeble in facing this massive adversary.