The Mountain

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The Mountain Page 27

by Richard Turner


  Shaw flipped himself over and jammed the ice axe down as hard as he could. He pulled his body up and over the axe and tried to use his weight to help arrest his fall.

  The edge of the glacier loomed close.

  Suddenly, Shaw felt himself shoot out into open air. With his arms flailing, Shaw tried to grab something, anything, to stop his fall. He fell for a couple of seconds before his right hand felt something. He closed his hand around the safety rope. Shaw’s fall came to an instant, jarring stop. Pain shot from his right shoulder. His ice axe fell free and tumbled down to the frozen ground one hundred feet below. Shaw gritted his teeth and scrambled to find a place to place his feet into to support his weight. A moment later, Shaw let out his breath when he jammed his feet home into a couple of the ice steps cut into the side of the glacier. He knew he was lucky to be alive. He took in a couple of deep breaths as he fought to get his wildly beating heart under control and then turned his head to look up just as a darkened shape tumbled over the side of the glacier.

  Adler desperately grasped at the safety rope. He fell through the air until he was near Shaw. As if pre-ordained by the Gods, Adler grabbed hold of the rope a few inches above Shaw’s hand. He suddenly stopped and crashed hard into Shaw. Both men went flying along the icy wall.

  It was like being hit in the side by a charging bull. Shaw saw lights flash before his eyes. He was sure that he had broken a couple of ribs in the impact. He held onto the rope for dear life. Shaw turned his head and was surprised to see that he was eye to eye with Adler. Instantly shooting his head forward, Shaw smashed his forehead onto Adler’s nose, breaking it. Blood burst forth like a fountain from both nostrils. The sound of cracking cartilage made Shaw grin.

  Shaw reached over with his left hand while his opponent was stunned, and tried to pull Adler’s hands off the rope.

  Through tear-filled eyes, Adler saw Shaw reach over. A second later, he felt Shaw’s hand smash down hard onto his. His grip loosened. Suddenly, Adler felt himself sliding down the rope. He panicked and grabbed hold of the rope with both hands. A split-second later, he came to a shuddering halt, just below Shaw’s feet.

  Before Shaw could react, Adler reached up with his right arm, grabbed hold of a boot and then using all of his strength he pulled down on Shaw’s leg, trying to yank him off the rope.

  Shaw swore at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t believe that Adler was still alive and was now trying to pull him off the line. As much as he tried to hang on, Shaw felt his gloved hands begin to slide on the rope. With his pack on his back, Adler was far heavier than Shaw. Shaw’s body was tiring. It was only a matter of seconds before he lost his grip. He swore at Adler and then kicked out with his free leg trying to hit Adler in the head with the heel of his boot.

  Adler saw the move and ducked just as Shaw’s foot reached out for his head.

  Shaw tried a couple more times. Each time, however, his aim was always a bit off. His muscles were tiring. In the thin air, Shaw knew he couldn’t last much longer. He quickly decided that he had best take the fight to Adler before he fell to his death. Shaw looked down at Adler and then let go of the rope.

  Adler gasped in shock when he saw Shaw release his grip on the safety line. He thought it madness, until Shaw reached out as he fell and grabbed Adler by his shoulders. Taking all of Shaw’s weight on his body was a sudden and agonizing shock to Adler’s already tired arms. He wrapped both hands tight around the rope and fought to hold on.

  Shaw saw Adler tighten his grip around the rope.

  It was his opening.

  With nothing to stop him, Shaw reached over with his right arm and wrapped it around Adler’s neck. Like a python, he tightened his grip around his opponent’s neck.

  Adler couldn’t breathe. In desperation, he let go of the rope with his right hand, and tried reaching behind his neck to break Shaw’s hold on his neck. It was no good. He was soon gasping for air. Adler fought to live. Using his feet, he kicked out from the glacier wall, hoping to shake Shaw from his back.

  Shaw held on tight. There was nothing Adler could do to break Shaw’s vice-like grip around his neck. He soon felt Adler’s body begin to shake as it began to shut down. Shaw felt along the glacier wall with his right foot for a foothold. A second later, Shaw jammed his foot into a narrow opening. He didn’t want to fall to his death with Adler. Shaw let go of Adler, brought up his right hand and then smashed it into Adler’s bloodied face.

  “Time for you to die,” said Shaw as he reached over, grabbed Adler’s head, and rammed it hard into the side of the glacier. Blood flew everywhere.

  Too weak to stop his coming death, Adler didn’t even try to stop his fall. His hands, unable to hold on anymore, let go of the safety line. As he fell, his body bounced off the glacier a couple of times before smashing into the frozen ground.

  “I got you, you son of a bitch,” said Shaw as he fought to catch his breath.

  Too weak to climb back up, Shaw climbed down to the bottom of the glacier. He wiped the sweat from his face, walked over, and nudged Adler’s mangled body with his boot. He could see that Adler’s neck had snapped on impact. The man who had caused so much pain and anguish was dead. Shaw walked over to his tent, opened it up, grabbed a bottle of oxygen and took a couple of long, deep breaths. Unlike before, he still felt tired and beaten up.

  It was getting dark.

  Shaw walked back over to Adler’s corpse, bent down, and pulled the pack from his back. He threw it over his shoulder and unenthusiastically looked up at the wall of ice. He doubted that he had the strength left in him to climb back up.

  The rope in front of him suddenly began to dance in the air. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked again. Once more, the safety line moved up and down. Shaw craned his head up and saw Sangdrol looking down at him.

  Sangdrol used his arms to indicate to Shaw that he should wrap the rope around his waist and that he would pull him up.

  Shaw waved up at Sangdrol. However, before he left he grabbed a couple of rifles from the Afghans’ tent and then tied himself onto the rope.

  A minute later, Shaw was back on top of the glacier. Sangdrol had hauled him up all by himself. Shaw had been too tired to even help.

  “I thought I told you to stay with Duncan and Amrit,” said Shaw.

  Sangdrol smiled at Shaw and then patted him on the back.

  “Ok, we’re even, but no more fighting,” said Shaw.

  It was night long before Shaw and Sangdrol made their way back inside the cavern. They found Bruce sitting beside a lit propane stove. On it, he was boiling some water for tea.

  When Bruce saw Shaw walk into the cavern helped by Sangdrol, he stood up and looked over at his friend. He could see that Shaw’s face was covered in cuts and bruises. “My God, sir, you look like crap,” said Bruce.

  “It’s nice to see you too,” said Shaw. Taking a seat, Shaw pulled off the pack with the Vril device inside of it. He felt a lump in his throat when he saw Amrit’s body a few yards away lying on the ground; her face was covered with her jacket.

  “Adler?” asked Bruce.

  “He’s in a place far warmer than we are,” replied Shaw.

  “Good riddance to the man,” said Bruce as he poured out three cups of weak tea.

  Shaw took a sip. After all, he had been through today, it was the best-tasting tea had ever had in his life.

  Sangdrol began to pace back and forth with a rifle cradled in his arms. If he was even the slightest bit tired, he didn’t show it.

  Even though his body protested, Shaw got back up on his feet. Slowly, he walked over beside Amrit. He knelt down and then placed a hand over hers. Her death had hit him as hard as his brother’s had. Shaw knew it would be a long time before he ever felt like himself again. There had been too much misery and loss in his life recently. As he stood, Shaw’s weary bones creaked and popped.

  “Did Amrit say anything at the end?” Shaw asked Bruce.

  Bruce mournfully nodded his head. “Yeah, she said she’s never
been to the seaside. She asked that we scatter her ashes in the Indian Ocean.”

  “Sure, we can do that,” said Shaw, his voice cracking.

  “Sir, what about the beasties? It’s dark out; they’re bound to come around looking for a bite to eat.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to be bothered, at least not tonight.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “For starters, we killed dozens of them today. I doubt that they’re in any mood to pick any more fights with us and secondly, I have the Vril device with me,” said Shaw. He took a seat on the ground and patted the pack on the floor beside him. “If they truly are guardians of the mountain and the sacred objects hidden within, they’ll won’t bother us while we have the device.”

  “We canna keep it if we are going to honor our promise to Amrit.”

  Shaw smiled. “Duncan, I don’t intend to keep it. Tomorrow morning, it and this entire cave system will be sealed off forever. I take it that you can rig the dynamite to explode.”

  “It’ll be a piece of cake.” With that, Bruce’s stomach growled. He dug into his pack, pulled out a can of chocolate, opened it, and then handed it around. “It’s hardly five-star cuisine, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Amen to that,” said Shaw as he bit into the strong-tasting dark chocolate. He felt the adrenaline drain from his system and fought to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t recall a time when he had felt so completely and utterly drained. A second later, still sitting up, he fell asleep.

  “Sir, sir, wake up, it’ll be light soon,” said Bruce as she shook Shaw’s shoulder.

  Shaw took a deep breath of cool air through his nostrils. He stretched his hands over his head and opened his eyes. The gray light of dawn was seeping down from above into the cavern. A sudden shudder down his back made Shaw realize just how cold it was inside the cavern. Sitting up, he pulled down the blanket covering his body and then felt an oxygen mask over his mouth.

  “You were having trouble breathing last night,” explained Bruce as he handed Shaw a cup of water. “It’s cold, I’m sorry to say. The propane ran out last night.”

  Both Bruce and Sangdrol had blankets draped over their shoulders. A cool frost covered the ground.

  “How long was I asleep?” asked Shaw.

  “I’d say a good seven hours.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  Bruce shook his head. “I couldn’t. The thought of one of them beasties getting in here and tearing us to pieces while we slept played on my mind all night long. The big fella and I just paced about and took turns checking the perimeter. However, just as you predicted, they left us alone.”

  “What do we have for breakfast?”

  Bruce dug into a pocket and handed Shaw a tin of sardines. “Bon appétit, it’s not cooked, but at least it’s not frozen solid.”

  “What about you and Sangdrol?” asked Shaw as he opened the tin.

  “We ate an hour ago.”

  Shaw didn’t realize how famished he was until he smelled the oily fish aroma of the sardines. He quickly devoured every last drop. Shaw finished it off with some water and a hard candy.

  Bruce took a seat beside Shaw and said, “So, Captain, what’s the plan?”

  “Well, I suppose there’s no point in dragging this out. The sooner we begin our trek down the mountain, the sooner we can all go home,” said Shaw. “I’m going to get rid of the Vril device where no one will ever find it. There’s a chasm back there that is thousands of feet deep. I’m gonna drop it in there. While I do that, you can prep the explosives. Sangdrol can wrap Amrit’s body in a blanket, so we can carry her down with us.”

  Bruce said, “I’m already way ahead of you, Captain. The explosives are set, and I used a spare blanket to cover Miss York’s remains.”

  Shaw shook his head. He should have known that Bruce would have anticipated what needed to be done. Slowly getting to his feet, he walked over, picked up the backpack with the Vril device in it and grabbed a rifle. He made sure the rifle was loaded, switched on his flashlight and then headed off into the dark.

  It took Shaw a couple of minutes to reach the deep crevasse. He shone his light all around to make sure that he was alone. Satisfied that he wasn’t walking into an ambush, Shaw stepped to the edge of the chasm and looked down. Darkness had never seemed so cold and unnerving. He pulled the pack off his back and dropped it at his feet.

  “This is for you, Amrit,” said Shaw as he nudged the pack over the side of the crevasse. In less than a second, it vanished from sight, lost for all eternity, entombed deep inside the mountain.

  A couple of minutes later, Shaw stood beside Bruce as he finished stuffing into his backpack what he thought they might need until they reached the safety of their last camp.

  “How long of a fuse have you set?” Shaw asked Bruce.

  “Ten minutes, give or take a few seconds,” answered Bruce.

  “That should be plenty.”

  “Captain, you kinda fell asleep last night before we could talk,” said Bruce. “What’s your game plan for getting us off this rock alive?”

  “We’ll make our way down to our camp at the base of the glacier and rest there for the night. There’s plenty of food, propane and oxygen stored there so we should be able to rest there quite comfortably. After that, we’ll take only what we can carry and retrace our steps down to the bottom of the mountain. MacDonald said he would be waiting for us, so we should be ok.”

  Bruce nodded his head, walked over to the fuse and lit it.

  With Shaw leading, they made their way up the tunnel and out onto the icy surface on the side of the mountain. The snow shone a warm golden color from the sun as it crept up on the horizon. Quickly bundling up against the freezing cold, Shaw led them down the slope following the tracks he had made the day before.

  Almost to the second, ten minutes later, the mountain rumbled with a deafening roar. Tons of snow and rocks fell into the spot where the tunnel leading down into the mountain had once been, erasing it from sight.

  It was done.

  Without saying a word, they turned their backs to the mountain and trudged on in silence.

  Hector MacDonald felt the chill in his bones. A cool, damp fog hugged the valley floor. After tossing some freshly cut wood on the fire, he reached out with his cold hands, trying to warm them up.

  It had been nine days since Shaw, and his people had gone up the mountain. He was beginning to wonder if they would ever return. Suddenly, something in the back of his mind told him to be wary. He grabbed his rifle tight in his hands, stood straight up, and peered out into the mist.

  MacDonald called out, “Who goes there? Identify yourself!”

  A second later, three spectral figures emerged out of the fog.

  MacDonald’s jaw dropped when he saw Shaw walk towards him. The man was filthy. His eyes were bloodshot and tired-looking. Shaw’s clothes were torn and shredded. He looked like he was ready to drop from exhaustion. Behind him came Bruce, hobbling along, using a rifle as a crutch. Last was Sangdrol, with a stone-faced visage, carrying a body wrapped in a dirty blanket in his arms.

  MacDonald gasped. He knew in his heart that Amrit was dead.

  “Get up!” bellowed MacDonald at the men still sleeping in the camp. “Get the hell up! They’re back.”

  MacDonald ran over to Shaw. He could see the pain in Shaw’s eyes. “My God, what happened? Are there any more survivors?”

  Shaw shook his head. He sat down at the fire, reached out for the warmth of the fire and then looked up at MacDonald. “Is the monk still with you?”

  “Yes,” said MacDonald.

  “Get him up and have your men collect as much wood as they can. We’re going to cremate Amrit’s remains today before we leave here,” said Shaw wearily.

  “Yes, yes of course,” replied MacDonald. Hurrying away, he went to give the necessary orders.

  Bruce winced as he sat down. Propping up his bad leg, he looked about for something to eat.


  “How’s the leg?” asked Shaw.

  “Not too bad today. Go figure, I’d twist my ankle walking down the mountain,” replied Bruce.

  Sangdrol respectfully laid Amrit’s body down beside Shaw and then walked over to a couple of his friends, who had run over to see him.

  “Thank God we had the big fella with us,” said Bruce.

  “I hear you. Without him, I’m not sure we could have made it down without having to leave Amrit behind. And that was something I was not prepared to do.”

  “Sir, what are we going to tell MacDonald about Amrit? I think he was pretty keen on her.”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “For that matter, what the hell are we going to tell the folks back home?”

  Shaw shook his head. “Same thing. I honestly don’t know, nor do I care right now. For the next little while, they can all go to hell as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Aye, that pretty well sums up how I feel about things right now as well.” Changing topics, Bruce said, “Do you think MacDonald will help us get us back across the border to India?”

  “I don’t see why not. He’s a smuggler. It’s what he’s good at.” Shaw absentmindedly scratched at his long beard for a few seconds, and then said, “I think I need a hot bath, and a shave.”

  “Yeah, you do,” said Bruce smiling for the first time in days.

  Chapter 28

  RAF Station

  Karachi, India

  After pouring three tall glasses of Scotch, Colonel Simcoe walked out onto a shaded veranda at the Officers’ Mess and placed the drinks down on a table in a corner of the establishment.

  “Thanks, Colonel,” said Shaw and Bruce in unison.

  Both men were dressed in newly bought civilian attire. Aside from the fact that both men had lost some weight, they looked a little healthier than they had just a month ago.

 

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