Tamed by the Yeti
Clea Kinderton
Published by Red Lamp Press, 2014.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
TAMED BY THE YETI
First edition. August 17, 2014.
Copyright © 2014 Clea Kinderton.
Written by Clea Kinderton.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Tamed by the Yeti
Further Reading: Bride of the Manticore (Reluctant Monster Breeding Erotic Romance)
About the Author
I rolled for a long time.
When I finally came to a stop, I found myself on the side of a slope leading down to a valley. The air above me was filled with a haze of powder, tiny crystals of snow kicked into the atmosphere by the force of the avalanche.
I can’t believe I jumped. I can’t believe I didn’t break my legs.
When I’d seen the thunderhead of snow plummeting down over the rocks at us, I did the only thing I could think of: I turned and ran. Straight for the cliff.
I remember falling, hitting the snow like a bullet. I must have landed in a drift. The blizzard the night before had left a thick blanket of snow over everything. I’d started rolling almost immediately, careening through the cold white powder like a character in a cartoon spinning into a giant ball of snow. I thought I’d never stop. I thought I’d roll all the way to China.
I tried to stand up. Surprisingly, I could. I was sore all over, like I’d just been used for tackle practice.
I tottered on my feet, winded, heart hammering so hard that it hurt, lungs burning from the cold and elevation, but alive and unharmed.
A miracle. You’re one incredibly lucky girl, Joanna.
I laughed.
I sounded hysterical.
I wondered if the others were dead.
I started climbing the slope, making my way back toward the camp. If I was fast, I might be able to save them.
They told me it was a bad idea, making a documentary about — of all things — the abominable snow man. Pierre said it was going to be a disaster.
You were right, Pierre. It was a disaster. I was laughing again. Stop it, Joanna. It’s not funny.
It wasn’t.
I slipped back down the slope. I’d barely made it ten feet. Climbing back up was going to be impossible without my equipment. I looked around for an easier path. The only way forward was down, away from the camp.
They’re probably dead. Pierre. Alison. Claude. If they aren’t already, they will be soon. I will be, too, if I don’t get out of this cold.
I could feel myself freezing all the way through. My fingers and toes were already numb. It wouldn’t be long before I started to get frostbite.
Go down. Go down and find shelter. Find someone who can help.
I turned, abandoning my friends, hoping that, somehow, they’d made it too.
I started down the slope and made much better progress. I slid for most of it, terrified I was going to end up buried under a mountain of snow.
It was cooler in the shade. Like the coldest circle of hell. The sky above was a merciless blue, an infinite, endless expanse of spiteful cold.
You need to find shelter, Joanna.
Where do you find shelter in the Himalayan mountains?
I trudged across the base of the valley. It was like being inside a giant bowl made of snow.
Crack.
The sound made me start and I froze in place.
The abominable snow man?
No. Ice breaking, you idiot.
I looked around, but I didn’t see anything. I was alone. At the top of the bowl, I could see a cloud of snow slowly settling. It hadn’t been a real avalanche, just a big chunk of snow falling off the side of the mountain. It could have been so much worse.
There was another crack, louder than the first. I spun around and suddenly I was falling into the earth.
It was like I’d jumped off the ledge all over again.
When I woke up, I found myself looking out the window.
For a minute, I just laid there. Then I realized that the window wasn’t a window but a hole in the ceiling of a cave that I’d fallen into.
I was numb from head to toe.
They’re going to have to amputate everything, I thought, laughing on the inside.
Joanna, you’re acting hysterical.
I was lying on my back in a pile of snow and ice. If not for the snow, I probably would have broken every bone in my body. The hole was at least thirty feet overhead, but I’d fallen down on a mattress of snow and ice.
How long have I been unconscious?
I was so cold, I felt like I’d woken up in a deep freezer.
I should be dead.
But for some reason I wasn’t. After a moment, I realized that it wasn’t that cold. Not cold enough to kill. There was ice on the ceiling, descending in long icicles to the floor, giving the cave the appearance of a forest.
That means there had to be moisture, condensation. The temperature in the cave must be hovering around zero.
I rolled over with a groan. Every muscle ached, but nothing was broken.
I should be dead. Like Pierre and Alison and Claude.
I pushed myself slowly — painfully — onto my hands and knees and then forced myself to stand up. I dusted myself off with my numb hands and looked around. I couldn’t see more than a few feet into the darkness on any side. There was a sort of path through the icicles, leading deeper into the cave. I looked up. There was no way I was going to be able to get out that way.
“Hello!” I shouted, hoping for a miracle.
There was no response, just the echo of my voice through a cave filled with icicles.
I felt the pockets of my jacket, felt the Zippo lighter I kept there. A gift from my father.
Dad was a marine. He wouldn’t be scared.
I had to take off my glove to undo the zippers to get my hand in the pocket. My fingers were blue and stiff, but they didn’t look frostbitten. Not yet.
I flicked the lighter. It lit on the first try.
Semper fi.
The flame licked the air, dancing, teasing me with the promise of warmth.
A breeze.
I turned, trying to find the source. It was coming from the path through the icicles.
Of course.
I let the flame die to preserve the fuel and felt my way into the darkness.
It isn’t easy making your way through a cave in absolute darkness. Several times I slipped on icy patches of stone or slid down screes of rubble.
I was terrified of stumbling into a crevice, and in spite of my desire to preserve fuel, I found myself constantly lighting the Zippo. It was starting to flicker. At least it was warmer in the cave than it was outside. Occasionally, I could even hear something that sounded like running water.
I tried not to think about the fact that I was probably going to die in the cave. I might be able to avoid dehydration by chewing on ice, but if I didn’t die of hypothermia or a bad fall, I’d die of starvation.
You’ll find a way out, Joanna. Don’t lose hope.
I climbed onto a ledge and found a level patch.
I wish dad was here. He’d know what to do.
I tripped on a stone and fell face forward, landing hard on my hands. The lighter bounced into the darkness, immediately extinguished. I slid face first down an icy slope and came to a stop about four yards away. The air was filled with a strange musky scent, like a wet dog.
And then I heard a sound. Something very large growled a few feet in front of me.
Jesus Christ. It’s a bear.
My heart thumped in my chest.
I don’t want to die.
I scrambled to my hands and knees and started crawling away as fast as I could. I had no idea where I was going and hit the top of my head on a rock. I cried out and then silenced myself.
It’s just a bruise, Joanna. Keep going.
I heard quick, scrabbling noises behind me, something very big moving very quickly over loose stone.
It’s chasing me.
I stumbled to my feet, holding my hands out in front of me to keep from running into a stalagmite or rock wall.
I could hear water now. It was like it was running right underneath me. I thought I could feel the stone vibrating from the pressure.
Suddenly, I was in free fall.
I dropped straight down, plunging into icy cold water. I felt myself being sucked into the current, and freezing cold water filled my lungs until I felt like my chest was going to rip open from the pressure.
I’m drowning.
I tried to claw my way to the surface, but I was in pitch darkness, tossed about in a swirling void.
I guess it beats being eaten alive, I thought before everything went black.
How many times do I have to wake up from this nightmare?
I was in darkness.
I was warm.
The pungent odor of animal dander filled the closed air. Something soft and heavy lay over top of me. It felt like a fur coat. My body was stiff and sore, but I was alive.
And naked.
I tried to move and found I could roll over. I was lying on something soft and spongy. A pile of fur coats? It was so hot under the furs I was sweating.
Where the hell am I? What the hell’s going on?
I remembered the rush of icy water embracing me, sucking me in, the turbulence of the current as it swept me along through the absolute darkness.
I should have died. Drowned. Hypothermia at a minimum.
Somebody grabbed me. Somebody pulled me out of the river.
I could still feel the pressure of those strong fingers, the hand of a giant wrapped around my arm, hauling me out of the water. I had a confusing recollection of pressure applied to my chest, of throwing up water. Then blackness.
Somebody saved me.
I pushed back the blankets enough to stick my head up and look around. There was a faint glow in the distance, a warm glimmer of pale light reflecting from damp stone walls. I was still in the caves.
I heard a deep, low grunt very close behind me and felt the mattress shift.
I froze.
That sounded like a bear.
It was right beside me, so close I could feel the warmth of its body. Only the strangeness of my awakening had prevented me from noticing it earlier.
My ears strained in the darkness, but the sound did not repeat, only the sound of deep, heavy breathing.
I counted to one hundred and then slowly tried to burrow through the blankets away from the animal.
There was a snort, and then an enormous, powerful hand on my belly. Huge fingers grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back in. I felt myself being crushed against the warm, furry body of an animal, as soft and fluffy as a Husky.
That’s a hand, I thought, mentally counting the fingers pressed against my belly. It was terrifyingly large. It had to be twice the size of any hand I’d ever seen before.
Could it be?
It wasn’t possible. Even though I’d gone looking for it, had bet my entire life savings on a documentary about it, I had never really believed that I would find it.
Could it really be a yeti? Am I sharing a bed with an abominable snowman?
I twisted my neck, straining to see in the darkness, to make sense of the ponderous shadow that heaved and sighed in sleep beside me.
Disks of light suddenly flashed in the darkness in front of me, reflecting the dim light like an animal’s — a wolf’s eyes, or a lion’s. For two seconds, my heart seemed to stop beating, then the eyes closed, the creature let out a deep sigh, tightened its grip around my waist, and drifted back to sleep. I lay paralyzed with terror beside it, listening to its breathing, praying that, whatever it was, it wouldn’t tear me limb from limb.
I listened to its breathing for a long time, almost suffocated by the heat generated by its body, and then, as terrified as I was, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, the creature was gone.
For a moment I laid there in the dark, wondering if I’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe I’d hallucinated it as part of a delirium.
But everything else was the same as I remembered it. The same fur mattress and blankets, the same pale glow on the walls of the cavern, the same musky odor and cool, dry air.
I slipped from under the heavy blankets, resting my bare feet on the cold stone floor. I shivered, breaking out in goosebumps. A part of me wanted to stay in the bed, to fall asleep and never wake up, but my bladder ached; I needed to relieve myself.
I tugged at the furs until I found one small enough to take with me and wrapped the crudely cut hide around my shoulders. Clutching it tightly about myself, I crept through the cavern in the direction of the light. I wanted to find some small, out of the way corner to relieve myself where I wouldn’t be bothered by the smell. I didn’t know how long I would be stuck in the cave, or if there was even a way out.
I felt my way around a stone pillar and found the source of the flickering flames. A small fire burned in a natural depression of stone. A pile of branches lay in a jumble a short distance to the side. There were a number of bones scattered around the edge of the fire, blackened by the heat. I didn’t want to look too closely at them in case any of them looked familiar.
I lurked behind the pillar, listening for any sound of movement or other animal noises but heard nothing but the faint crack of logs in the fire. When I was satisfied that I was alone, I crept into the light as quietly as I could and peered around an outcrop of stone into another part of the cave.
I shivered, squeezing my thighs together as I fought to control my bladder. There was a small, dark corner at the far edge of the room partly enclosed in stalagmites that looked like a good spot for a makeshift bathroom.
I padded swiftly across the cavern floor, terrified that whatever it was that had slept beside me would return.
I was right to be anxious.
A loud growl echoed from the walls and a huge, dark shape ambled out of the darkness, moving on all fours like a gorilla.
I froze in my tracks, heart racing painfully in my chest. The beast shambled into the light and I stood face to face with a nightmare.
Even hunched over it was as tall as I was and I could tell it was easily seven or eight feet tall at full height. It’s face was a cruel mix of man and ape, horrifyingly bestial with low, heavy brows, flaring nostrils, and huge fangs. Its shoulders and arms were huge and its hands looked big enough to crush basketballs. It was covered from head to toe in thick, soft white fur, the only exposed skin the pale leathery gray of its face and ears and the palms of its hands.
It roared at me, shuffling threateningly, and beat on its chest.
I heard the stream of my urine hit the stone floor before I felt its warmth and wetness running down my legs.
I began to sob, devastated by fear and humiliation and despair. I prayed that it killed me quickly, and that I didn’t experience too much pain.
The beast snorted loudly and took a step back. Its nostrils flared and it shook its head from side to side.
It began making a loud huffing sound and started beating its knuckles on the floor. It tossed its head, took a step forward and then took a step back. It seemed to be perplexed by my reaction.
I saw it reaching for me with one of its gigantic hands and I shut my eyes, prepared for the worst. I felt rough, leathery fingers as big as sausages close around my wrist and gently tug.
The gentleness of the action surprised me and I peeked through my tears at the beast. It tossed its head and made another snorting sound and repeated the tug.
I stared at it, bewil
dered. It was almost like it was trying to communicate with me.
It motioned with its hand and pulled on my wrist. I staggered toward it to avoid being jerked off my feet and allowed it to lead me, stumbling, across the cave. It led me into a side passage and then a short way to a small stone chamber illuminated faintly by sunlight.
It’s going to kill you, Joanna. It’s going to kill you and eat you.
A small stream of clear water rushed through the edge of the chamber, cascading down over a small pile of stones to a narrow streamlet that disappeared through a similar hole in the opposite wall. Far above, a narrow, natural chimney allowed in enough sunlight to make the water sparkle. The creature drew me toward the stream and then gestured. It let go of my wrist and cupped its hand in the waterfall and took a drink. It stared at me, as if waiting for a response, and then squatted with its hindquarters over the water. It grunted, stood up, and pointed at the water. It squatted again and again grunted and pointed. It seemed to be trying to explain something to me. It repeated the movements until it dawned on me that it was pantomiming the act of making a bowel movement. It was trying to show me that this fast running current of water was not only a source of fresh water, at the top, where it entered, but that it was also to be used as a toilet, further on, where it left the cave.
I stared numbly at the creature, dumbfounded. I’d been certain that it was going to kill me and eat me, but here it was, training me like a housecat.
I nodded to show that I understood, but I couldn’t tell if it knew what my nodding represented. In any case, it seemed satisfied with my reaction and shuffled back down the hall, leaving me alone by the stream.
I dropped my fur cloak off to the side, grateful that I hadn’t urinated on it, and cleaned myself with palmfuls of icy cold water.
The yeti’s simple act of kindness had taken the edge off my fear. I was still terrified of what it might do to me, but I was no longer so certain that it was going to kill me. Unless it was saving me for lean times, of course.
By the time I was clean, I was shivering so hard my teeth were chattering. It was much warmer down here in the caves than it was up above, but I knew I wouldn’t survive long away from the fire or the warmth of the bed. I picked up the fur cloak and wrapped it tightly around myself, holding it closed with my hand. I wondered what had happened to my clothes. If I couldn’t find them in the caves, perhaps I could find some way to make a button for the cloak from the bones around the fire. I could even use one of the burning brands for a torch and perhaps find my way out of the cave. There had to be an entrance nearby, one close enough to the surface to allow the yeti to find food and wood for the fire. The fact that it knew how to build a fire at all was in itself remarkable. It appeared to be almost as intelligent as a stone age man.
Tamed by the Yeti Page 1