The Mountain (A James Shaw Mission Book 2)

by Richard Turner

“Because you were seeing things that weren’t there,” replied Shaw.

  Shaking his head, Bruce rolled over; in seconds, he was fast asleep.

  “I’ve never seen anything quite like this before,” said Amrit. “I’ve heard that people suffering from the effects of high altitude sickness sometimes see things that aren’t there, but never as vividly as Duncan’s experience.”

  Shaw sat down and pulled off his frost-covered balaclava. Running a hand through his matted hair, Shaw said, “That’s because I don’t believe that it was high altitude sickness that caused him to think his mother was out there.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Shaw smiled. “I guess it would be pointless to ask you to swear that you’ll keep what I’m about to tell you a secret.”

  “Yes, it would be foolish of you to ask,” replied Amrit, handing Shaw a piece of chocolate.

  For the next hour, Shaw told Amrit what the Lama had told him about the Starchild legend and the Nazi quest to find a mysterious power source they called Vril. Without going into too many specifics, he recounted his mission to Norway where he had been under incredible stress and had also seen and heard things that weren’t truly there.

  Amrit sat there taking it all in. She never said a word until Shaw was finished. “James that was an extraordinary story, do you honestly believe that centuries ago something from the stars crashed in this valley?”

  “Until I see the remains with my own eyes, I remain skeptical, but it’s foolish to think that we are all alone. There are billions of stars out there. Some of them have to have intelligent beings living near them. However, if you put the Lama’s story about the Starchild on the shelf for a moment and focus solely on Adler, you have to believe that something important is buried deep in the mountain, or he wouldn’t be here.”

  “Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess you’re right.”

  A sleepy voice said, “Hey, why am I wearing my clothes? I was sure that I at least took my boots off before getting into bed.”

  Shaw said, “Duncan, do you remember anything after you went to bed last night?”

  Bruce thought hard for a few seconds and then said, “I dreamt that my mum was walking around in the dark. It seemed so real. I could see her face and all. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you went for a stroll outside at about two this morning,” replied Shaw.

  “No. Really?”

  “It’s true,” said Amrit.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve never done that before,” said Bruce.

  “If you can help it, please don’t do it again,” said Shaw with a reassuring smile.

  “You know, I’m starting to smell some awful. I could do with a nice hot bath right now. Also, my whiskers are really starting to bother me,” said Bruce as he scratched the stubble on his face.

  “Duncan, your average Tibetan bathes but once a year,” said Amrit. “I’ve met some who have only bathed twice in their lives, once on the day they were born and once on their wedding day.”

  Bruce cringed. “That was something I didn’t need to know.”

  “Now that you’re up,” said Shaw, “I’m going to head outside and take over guarding the camp. You should be coming with me, but after all you’ve been through, why don’t you stay here and rest a little while longer? By my watch, it’ll be light enough to cook a meal in just over an hour.”

  After making his way out of the tent, Shaw was happy to see that the snow had stopped falling. He knew that the coldest part of the night was just before dawn. Even with two sweaters on underneath his thick fur-lined jacket, he was still cold. His breath hung like fog in the chilly air. Walking over to Choling, who was just finishing off his time on sentry duty, Shaw told him what had happened in the middle of the night to Bruce.

  Somberly shaking his head, Choling uttered a word in Tibetan before leaving Shaw alone to guard the camp.

  After a while, with his feet growing numb in his boots, Shaw began to pace back and forth, his eyes always fixed on the world outside of their camp. If there was still something out there, he didn’t want it sneaking up on him. Thinking only of his parents, Shaw tried to erase any thought of his late brother from his mind. If whatever it was lurking in the shadows could read minds and prey upon a person’s fears and grief, he didn’t want to give it an opening, no matter how small, to exploit.

  Shaw’s time walking in circles around the camp was the longest and coldest hour of his life. He shivered from the top of his head all the way to his toes. He was certain that the temperature had dropped to at least twenty below freezing. The instant he saw a sliver of gray light on the horizon; he shook both Tibetans’ tents and told them to wake up. A couple of grumpy voices called back; he couldn’t understand a word of Tibetan, but was certain that he been sworn at. Even though he could only think of getting out of the cold, something else tugged at Shaw’s mind. He slid his rifle off his shoulder and walked carefully over to the spot where he had found Bruce supposedly talking to his mother. Shaw looked down and was stunned when he saw a fresh set of massive tracks in the snow leading away from the camp. He bent down and placed his gloved hand beside the track. Shaw found that he could place his hand several times over inside the footprint. They looked like a bear’s track, only slender and much longer than any had ever seen as a teenager hunting with his father in the woods of Pennsylvania. He raised his head and followed the tracks with his eyes as they made their way away from the camp. The stride between the tracks was substantial, whatever it was it must be really tall, thought Shaw.

  Shaw ran back to their camp and called for Choling to join him.

  Choling quickly threw on his heavy winter jacket and cap and rushed to see what the problem was. He followed Shaw back to the tracks. Choling took one look at the prints and said, “Captain, have you ever heard of a yeti?”

  “Do you mean like the abominable snowman?”

  “Yes. Do you believe such a creature exists?”

  “Until I see one with my own eyes, I’m going to have to say no.”

  “Well, I know they exist. When I was a boy, I saw a yeti’s footprints high up in the hills behind my village. They are like a giant man’s footprint. These tracks, Mister Shaw, are quite unlike them. In fact, I’ve never seen anything like them before.”

  Shaw tried to remember what Choling had said earlier. “When I told you about the incident with Sergeant Bruce you said Rakosha or something like that. What did you mean by that?”

  “Captain, if you don’t believe in yetis, you’re not going to believe in Rakshasas,” replied Choling.

  “I’m cold, tired, and hungry. I’m also not afraid to admit that I’m more than a little scared right now,” said Shaw. “I’m willing to listen to what you’ve got to say.”

  “A Rakshasa is a mythical beast that was cast out of heaven. It is said that they have an insatiable taste for human flesh,” explained Choling. “Unlike other animals, they are not mindless beasts. They are illusionists and make you see and hear what you want before they strike and kill you.”

  “Why do you believe that they’re here?”

  “It all goes back to the arrival of the Starchild. I believe that someone, perhaps a Lama, summoned them here to guard the child and his otherworldly possessions. Some Rakshasas are good, and some are evil. My grandfather long ago told me that they are the guardians of the mountain and our sacred valley.”

  Shaw didn’t know what to make of Choling’s explanation. Rather than ask a lot of questions, he got down to business. “Can they be killed?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Choling honestly. “I’m not a holy man. I’ve spent my entire life as a warrior not in the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment.”

  “Well, we can’t stand here all day wondering about the existence of mythical creatures,” said Shaw. “I’m starving and we have some people to stop.”

  Choling reached over and grabbed Shaw’s arm. “Captain, they aren’t a myth. They are as real as the mountain we are standing on.
We may yet defeat our enemies and stop them from taking whatever they are after; however, believe me when I say that none of us are going to make it off this mountain alive, the Rakshasas won’t allow it. I owe it to my men to tell them the truth, so they can be prepared when the time comes. What you do is your business.” Turning his back on Shaw, Choling walked away in silence.

  Chapter 21

  Mount Naraka

  By the time Shaw arrived back at his tent, he couldn’t feel the ends of his fingers or toes. He dashed inside and saw that Amrit had made a meal of corned beef hash, served with hard biscuits and jam. A cup of sweet sugary tea completed breakfast.

  Pulling off his ice-encrusted balaclava, Shaw undid his jacket and sat down inside the tent. Unlacing his boots, he removed them and then gently massaged his frozen toes. With a smile, he took his food from Amrit. Looking over at Bruce, Shaw noticed that he hadn’t eaten much of his food. Something was up.

  “Not hungry?” asked Shaw.

  “Nah, I’m not in the mood to eat this morning,” replied Bruce.

  “Well, that’s nice, Sergeant, eat up,” said Shaw bluntly. “Duncan, you’re suffering from altitude sickness. Amrit told us what to expect. Now eat your food or you’ll have no energy for today’s climb.”

  “Which I might add, gents, is the last easy one before we really begin to earn our pay,” added Amrit.

  As he forced himself to eat his meal, Bruce looked decidedly unhappy.

  Although Shaw wasn’t all that hungry either, he said nothing while he ate his breakfast. He couldn’t decide what was playing havoc on his usually strong appetite, the image of the head they found with all of its flesh eaten off of it or the altitude.

  An hour later, with all of their equipment packed away, Amrit and Shaw quickly discussed the route that they would follow for the day. They decided to keep close to the rocks as they made their way up towards the feature Amrit had dubbed the elbow. After that, it was going to be a steep climb over ice and snow to their next camp just below the towering glacier that, like a castle’s walls, looked as if it were there to keep people from climbing any higher.

  As he threw his pack on his back, Shaw looked over at Choling and his men. If Choling had told his men about the Rakshasas, they did not seem to be bothered by the prospect of a horrible death at the hands of one of the mythical beasts; instead, his men were laughing and joking with one another as if they were going for another walk through the countryside.

  “How cold would you say it is this morning?” asked Bruce, through chattering teeth as he wrapped his scarf around his face to keep it warm.

  “It’s about five degrees below freezing right now,” said Amrit. “However, the wind seems to be picking up, so the temperature will drop with it. With the wind chill, I expect it to be somewhere around minus fifteen for at least another hour until the sun rises above the summit and begins to warm everything up.”

  “Make sure that you keep all of your skin covered,” said Shaw. “You don’t want to get frostbite. Back home, I once knew a kid who got lost in the woods in the middle of winter. Unfortunately, he got a really bad case of frostbite. His skin blistered and then turned black before they had to amputate three of his fingers and two of his toes.”

  “You two are full of good news today,” said Bruce as he grabbed another scarf from his pack to wrap around his neck.

  Amrit led off. Once again, she deliberately kept her pace slow and measured. After an hour, Shaw offered to take the lead. He was soon gasping for air as he forced his way through the thigh deep drifts. When he began to slow, Sangdrol ran to the front to take over.

  Regardless of where one was in the slender column, the simple act of walking was exhausting work. However, no one complained. No one said a word. With their heads down, the group trudged ever higher. Towards noon, Amrit raised her hand, stopping the small band of climbers.

  Shaw moved up alongside her, pulled down his frost-covered scarf and smiled at her. “Are we stopping for a quick bit to eat?”

  “Yes, and I need to find a way around that that bloody big crevasse,” replied Amrit, pointing towards a great fissure in the ice with one of her climbing poles.

  Carefully walking over, Shaw stopped shy of the opening and peered down. It was like a deep wound that had been ripped open on the side of the mountain. The ice seemed a light-blue color at first; however, it soon faded to gray and then black the deeper the fissure went. Shaw shook his head. He couldn’t see the bottom. Anyone falling into the crevasse would surely be doomed.

  Walking back, he took a seat between Bruce and Amrit. Shaw loosened the straps on his pack and let it fall to the ice. After opening his thermos, he drank a cup of barely warm sweet tea.

  Bruce opened a can of sardines that he had held in a pocket near his chest. His body heat kept it from freezing. Suddenly, he coughed loudly, bent over and then spat out a deep green blob of phlegm. He wiped his mouth with the back of his icy glove. With a weak smile, he stood up and handed the sardines around.

  Shaw could see the look of concern in Amrit’s eyes; Bruce was sick. Taking the tin, Shaw helped himself to a couple of sardines. It wasn’t the finest cuisine they had ever dined on; however, after several long, hard hours slogging up the side of the mountain, the meal tasted exquisite.

  Shaw studied the long wall of black rock jutting out from the ice leading up towards their next camp. It didn’t look very inviting. Looking back at Amrit, he said, “I take it that you’re thinking that we should use the rocky face to move past the crevasse?”

  “Precisely,” replied Amrit. “I know it’s a bit steep, but if we go slowly and carefully, we should be able to safely skirt our way around the fissure. It’ll add an hour to today’s climb, but at least we’ll get to our next camp in one piece.”

  “Sounds good,” said Shaw. “I’ll brief Choling.”

  Five minutes later, Amrit stepped up onto the rock. She felt the firm surface under her boots for the first time in days. Amrit paused for a second to get her bearings and then led off. Bruce followed close behind her, placing his feet in exactly the same spots that she did. It was as if he were her shadow.

  Shaw moved along, keeping a few paces’ distance between him and Bruce. He placed his right hand on the rock and used it to keep his balance as they all negotiated a narrow path on the rock that was barely wide enough for their feet. Shaw kept his eyes on Bruce’s back. As they got nearer, Shaw avoided looking down into the yawning crevasse. He could hear his heart beating wildly in his ears. Until today, he hadn’t been bothered by heights, but the sight of the bottomless crevasse stirred something primal in his soul. He forced himself to focus on the path ahead. A couple of seconds later, Shaw felt himself begin to relax, ever so slightly.

  Suddenly, from behind, Shaw heard a man call out in panic. He turned his head just in time to see one of the Tibetans fall from the rock path down onto the ice. Within a second, the man was on his back, sliding towards the gaping fissure. Without thinking, Shaw dove forward, landing on his stomach he sped down the ice. With his right arm outstretched, he reached for the falling Tibetan, who was desperately trying to slow his fall with his feet. It was to no avail; his smooth soled boots couldn’t grip the icy surface. Within seconds, Shaw was mere inches from the terrified man’s flailing arms. In Shaw’s left hand was his pickaxe ready to jam into the ice to help stop their fall.

  Shaw could see that they would soon both go over the side of the fissure and fall to their deaths.

  “Take my hand!” screamed Shaw. He knew the Tibetan didn’t know a word of English, but the meaning was clear.

  With fear in his eyes, the man reached back towards Shaw, and extended his right arm, trying to reach Shaw’s hand.

  Fingers touched fingers.

  The instant Shaw felt enough of the man’s hand in his; he swung his axe down into the ice. Snow and ice flew into the air as the pickaxe tried to slow their slide towards oblivion.

  They had seconds to live.

  Suddenly, t
he pickaxe caught in a tiny hole in the ice. The sudden stop felt as if someone had tried to yank Shaw’s left arm out of its socket. Shaw groaned aloud as he felt his body swing around. He tried to dig his boots into the ice to take some of the painful strain off his arm. Shaw could see that the Tibetan was half on the ice and half inside the crevasse, desperately fighting to keep from falling.

  From behind, a pair of hands reached out and roughly took hold of Shaw’s shoulders. With a loud grunt, Sangdrol dug his heels into the ice and heaved backwards.

  Shaw felt himself and the man he was holding begin to creep back inch by inch from the edge of the icy precipice. Shaw tried to dig in his heels. He had to help Sangdrol pull them all back to safety. Before too long, all of Choling’s men were on the ice, dragging everyone back up the icy slope.

  When they were safe, Shaw let go of the Tibetan’s hand, rolled over onto his side and then tried to catch his breath. It was a strain to fill his lungs with oxygen. He took a couple of long, slow deep breaths. He forced himself to concentrate on relaxing his racing heart. The faster it pumped, the more he needed to replace the precious oxygen in his lungs.

  A hand patted him on the back. Shaw looked up and saw Choling standing over him.

  “Thank you, Captain Shaw, Palden is a good and honest man,” said Choling. “His death would have been a severe blow to this mission. If he could speak English, I am sure he would thank you himself.”

  “I thought you and your men were all as sure-footed as mountain goats,” said Shaw, gradually getting his breathing under control. He saw Palden smile at him and give him a thumbs-up.

  “No, I wish it were true, but we’re as clumsy as the next man,” replied Choling, helping Shaw up onto his feet. “I suggest that we rope ourselves together from now on. Three men to a line should work.”

  Shaw nodded his head. “I’ll tell Amrit.”

  For the rest of the day, they carefully moved along roped together in three groups of three. Fortunately, there were no further mishaps, but as the afternoon wore on, the cool wind began to pick up. By the time they stumbled into the area they had designated for their camp, it was impossible to see more than a couple of yards through the bitterly cold blowing snow whipped up by a thirty mile an hour wind coming straight at them. Frozen to the core, it took them far longer than anticipated to get their tents up. With the sun dipping behind the summit, Shaw told everyone to cook their meals inside their tents. He knew that lighting a stove inside their canvas tents was hardly the safest thing to do, but the only alternative was to eat from frozen cans of food.