Chapter 4
Need a Lift?
No one slept. They all crowded behind the bar, huddling together for warmth. Dixon had put out the fire after Nick and Sarah had been torn to shreds. He said that the beasts already knew where they were; he didn’t want to tempt them any further. “Not until daybreak, anyway,” he said. “Because by then, I’ll already be wearing one of their pelts, and I don’t give a flying fuck what you kids do once I’m gone.”
Parker sat with his knees up to his chin, staring at an empty cupboard. Lana sat next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. The gun rested in her lap and she caressed it as though it were a puppy.
“What the fuck was that?” Finally, Parker spoke. “It just… destroyed them.”
“That one was the rogue,” Dixon answered. He sat on a bar stool casually leaning into his rifle.
“A rogue what?”
“I’ve heard ‘em called lots of things,” Dixon said with a sidelong glance at Snowden. “Yetis, Abdominal Snowmen, even Sasquatches… but let’s face it, those are all utterly obnoxious. They seem to have a lot in common with bears—grizzlies, more specifically—and apes. They walk on their hands; I’ve studied them for years and it’s rare you’d ever see their feet touch the ground. If ever they do, it’s only a graze.”
“They’re fast,” Snowden added, reflecting on the one that had bolted across the road two days ago. It had been just a blur of white.
Dixon nodded. “And getting faster.”
“You mean, they’re evolving?” Parker asked.
“You got it, Darwin. And I think the rogue currently sets the precedent.”
Lana smiled, apparently amused. “You’re gonna kill this rogue snow beast so it doesn’t spur a generation of man-hunters? Sounds noble.”
Dixon smiled back. “He’s made it personal.”
A heavy silence ensued. Snowden nudged Zach. He was sitting beside her with his elbows bent across his knees and his head down. She’d thought he’d fallen asleep, but he looked up, bleary-eyed, and stared at the gun in Lana’s lap. “You guys cops or somethin’?”
They both shook their heads.
“What the hell you carry a gun for, then?”
Parker shrugged. “Nights like this.”
Zach laughed. “Nights like this. Just think of all the nights that aren’t like this and you still tote a stupid gun around.”
“Bet you wish you had one,” Lana said.
Zach shut up.
The night crawled. Snowden managed to catch about two hours’ sleep, and when she awoke, she found Dixon slinging his pack over his shoulder. He wore a heavy jacket over his flannel and a pair of thermals showed through the holes in his jeans. “You’re leaving?” she asked. “Now?”
“Snow’s stopped, Blondie. Sun’s almost up. I gotta hit the trail while there might still be one left.”
“But, what—?”
The others began to wake to hers and Dixon’s conversation.
“If you and your friends can hole up here for a few days, the plows’ll have the roads cleared.”
Zach stood. “Wait, you’re just leaving us? Without any food or guns?”
Dixon arched an eyebrow. He pointed to Parker. “He’s got a gun.”
“Right, with about four shots left.”
“Eleven,” Parker corrected. “Extended mag.”
Lana fist-bumped him.
Dixon finished pouring himself a flask and shoved it in his coat pocket. “Well, it’s been a real pleasure, but I’ve got a vendetta to settle.” He clomped off toward the door and opened it to reveal a world of white. He stepped out and paused for a long while, listening. Finally, he set off without even turning around. The door slammed shut behind him. Snowden shivered when the draft hit her.
*
“What now?” Keeley asked. She was wearing leggings and one of Minhas’s oversized sweatshirts.
Snowden peered through a slit in one of the boards. The Plymouth Horizon was buried beneath an avalanche of snow. Only the antenna of the jeep was visible.
“We should tell someone about Nick and Sarah,” Parker suggested.
“What about Royce? That ranger dude.” Minhas’s suggestion was met by a unanimous nod.
“He said his outpost was only about two miles north of here,” Zach said.
Parker holstered his gun and locked his arm around Lana’s waist. “I saw a snowmobile in the shed yesterday. Lana and I will go see Royce; we can get firewood, too.”
“Be careful,” Snowden warned.
That had been an hour ago. Zach paced the lodge, downing the last of the Jack Daniels, while Keeley and Minhas disappeared upstairs for a while. When they came back down, Snowden had not moved from her place by the window. It was drafty, and she wore a flannel blanket wrapped around her shoulders. At least the power had come back on, though she didn’t know how long it would last.
“You still lookin’ for that dickhead?” Zach said. “He ain’t comin’ back, Snow. He left us here to rot. This was his plan all along.”
“His name’s Dixon,” Snowden replied. “And he wanted us to leave two days ago. You were just too stubborn to listen to him.”
“He’s a fuckin’ con-artist, Snow. Jesus, how blond—”
“Sshhh… look. Do you see it?”
“What? Snowden, I don’t give a flying fu—”
“Zach, look!”
Keeley and Minhas crowded around the window, too. They all squinted, struggling to make out shapes in the snow.
If what Snowden saw was real, the creature—even when slouching—loomed at least ten feet tall. It dragged its giant fists through the snow as it walked like a pair of misguided shovels. Its fur was snowy white, rendering it practically invisible, if not for the faded blue scarf tied around its arm. For a fleeting moment, Snowden found herself wondering if the band was a fashion statement or if it referred to something much deeper.
“It’d be bad luck for Lana and Parker to come back now,” Zach said.
“Sshhh…”
They all listened. Keeley’s eyes got wide and her voice trembled. “Guys…”
The front wall of the lodge suddenly exploded. The four of them screamed as a snow beast tumbled violently into their living space. Its giant hands came crashing down on the bar, cleaving it in two and sending wood flying in all directions. Minhas cried out as a splinter lodged itself in his eye.
“Run!” Zach yelled. He grabbed both Snowden’s and Keeley’s arms and guided them through the ragged opening in the cabin wall.
“Brian!” Keeley screamed. She reached for Minhas who writhed on the floor, blood spurting through the cracks in his fingers as he pressed it to his face.
But Zach shoved her forward. “He’s gone, Keeley! Go!”
It was the bitterest cold that Snowden had ever felt. Snow packed itself into her boots and the wind bit her face. She kept up with Zach, who practically carried Keeley through the drifts, though she had tunnel vision all the way to the chair lifts. She tried to close her ears to the horrors that were undoubtedly happening behind them. The lodge was being completely demolished, and somewhere amidst the rubble, Minhas was gushing blood.
A fear gripped her, then, as she realized that the three of them might be heading for the very same fate. The other beast was still out here, stalking the hills, waiting for them—she was sure of it. She had not taken her eyes off the one when the attack came. There were two of them, at least, though probably more.
“Hurry up!” Zach yelled over his shoulder.
They had reached the lifts. The three of them leapt onto the same seat, holding their breath as their feet rose from the ground. Snowden thought about where they would go. They would be in the mountains, hopefully far away from any yeti camps or packs or whatever Dixon had referred to them as. Perhaps they would even find Dixon out here. He should have stayed at the lodge, she thought. The rogue would have come right to him.
Zach laughed as the
cables carried them further up the mountain. He punched the air, rocking the swing. Snowden hugged Keeley tightly. Tears had frozen on her cheeks. Zach nudged his sister. “Hey, we’ll go back for him, ok? I bet he’s… alive.”
Keeley sobbed even harder.
“Oh, fuck!”
Snowden shot Zach a glare.
“No—! Fuck!” Zach wrenched on the protective steel bar that stretched across them.
“Zach! What—?” And then she felt it, too. The seat jerked forward, then back as something yanked the cable. She turned and to her terror, discovered one of the beasts standing at the lift pickup. Its muscular arms pulled the cable back in the direction of the lodge as easily as though it were made of hemp instead of steel. They started to move backward. In just a fleeting glimpse, Snowden noticed the blue armband. “We’ll have to jump!” she said.
Zach was already crouching, holding onto the frame for support. He linked his arm through Keeley’s. “Come on, Kee!”
But Keeley, paralyzed with fear, just stared blankly. Her head bobbed with each jerking motion of the chair.
Snowden was up on her feet, too. “Keeley, come on!” She pulled on her friend’s arm but it did no good. They were getting closer to the beast that hunted them. In a matter of seconds, they would be right in its clutches. She wished beyond all else that she had a gun. “Zach!” she yelled above the terror. “We have to go!”
“No!” Zach shouted back. “I can’t leave her!”
“You have to!”
The snow beast roared and beat its chest so loudly that ice shattered on the mountains. Even in the intense cold, Snowden could smell it. It reeked of piss and blood and rotting flesh. It salivated as it pulled them to it.
Snowden jumped. She sprung off the seat with all the adrenaline she had stored inside of her. The fall was almost exhilarating, drowning out all sound until the ground rushed up to meet her. She heard a sharp snap, then, and a yell of agony as Zach landed hard beside her. But it was nothing compared to the hair-raising scream that came as the beast ripped its claws into Keeley. It tore her limb from limb and flayed her entire face with its teeth. Snowden shut her eyes and covered her ears with her fists as she felt the hot blood rain down on them.
Chapter 5
A Worthy Opponent
His was a world of red as he fought the elements, trudging uphill through drifts as high as his waist. The blood from his eye had congealed and frozen to his face. His entire body shivered; it felt as though the splinter had plunged all the way into his brain. He had already stopped to vomit once. He couldn’t afford to stop any more. Not if he wanted to make it to Royce’s outpost before those… things… came back for him.
Sweat poured from his hairline. Minhas pounded his fists into the tightly packed snow as he climbed the ridge to the highway. It would be easier walking, he hoped. He knelt on a mountain of snow and paused to catch his breath. He looked down, surveying where he had come from. The lodge had been absolutely destroyed. Wood and broken bottles littered the ground. Shards of glass glittered from the shattered windows.
He didn’t see any bodies, though they could be trapped beneath the debris. A blinding pain shot through his eye socket, then, as he thought of Keeley. He told himself that she was fine; she was up in the mountains, somewhere, up in a tree or maybe she even tunneled a little hideout for herself. But Minhas didn’t kid himself. Keeley was not that intelligent. She was, however, a fantastic lay. He closed his eyes, reliving the session under the flannel sheets they had just had this morning and he started to feel warm again.
Momentarily rejuvenated, he pressed on.
He’d made it to the road, but the trek was not much easier. The plows had not dared to come out yet. We are only in the lull of the storm, he thought dismally. There is more coming. He wondered if Lana and Parker had made it to Royce’s yet. Did they even know what horrors had afflicted the lodge? Or had they possibly endured the same fate as their friends, Nick and Sarah? Minhas listened, but he did not hear the sound of a snowmobile.
He was on his own, alone in the Montana wilderness and prey to the elements. Royce had warned them. That man knew his shit, Minhas reflected in hindsight. Dixon did too, come to think of it. They should have left days ago when they had the chance—when the roads were still clear and all their party was intact—but Zach could be such a douchebag sometimes. And now his douchebaggery has gotten us all killed, Minhas thought angrily. I’ll strangle him next time I see him. If I see him.
Minhas’s thoughts of vengeance were short-lived, however, when a snow-beast charged at him like a bull. It sprang from the hills like a ghost, and Minhas barely dodged it by diving into the ditch. It was a near miss, so near in fact, that he felt its teeth graze his ankle. He didn’t have a chance to regain his ground when it lunged at him again. This time, it knocked all the air from his lungs as it made contact by driving its horned head into his abdomen. Minhas grappled with it and the two tumbled down the hill. The searing pain in his head was forgotten as he felt its claws sinking into his sides. The beast roared, showing rows upon rows of serrated teeth. Its incisors were stained with blood.
They somersaulted to a stop and luckily, Minhas landed on top. He pummeled it with his fists, driving his knuckles into the thick muscle of its barreled chest, but his hits proved less than critical. The beast snapped, its teeth clamping only centimeters from Minhas’s nose. It roared to disarm him, then, and threw him on his back. It charged on its knuckles again and sped toward him. Before it could make a hit, however, Minhas had recovered his base. Putting his years of athletic training to use, he jumped, spun, and kicked. His foot slammed into the beast’s jaw, breaking it. Teeth careened through the air like .50-calibre bullets.
Snow exploded as the snow-beast landed like a meteor impacting the earth. Angry as hell and determined to live, Minhas charged at it. He took a running start as though attempting a high jump, and body slammed the son of a bitch.
Even with most of its teeth ripped from its face, the beast was still lethal. It swiped at him with its claws, managing to tear his bicep open. The pain gave Minhas a burst of strength and he disabled it with two hook punches on either side of its ribs. The beast belted one last fading growl as Minhas finished pulverizing it.
When his ears finally stopped ringing, he heard a rumbling from up on the highway. A blue truck parked and Minhas squinted through the blood to read Conservation Services printed on the side. In a matter of seconds, Ranger Raymond Royce was half-sprinting half-somersaulting down the slope with his rifle.
He whooped with elation when he saw what Minhas—saturated in steaming blood—sat on top of. He bent to retrieve the severed jaw and laughed as blood dripped from the matted fur and slid down his forearm. “Ye sure messed up this motherfucker, didn’t ye boy? Ha ha!” He kicked the snow-beast’s shoulder and its greyish tongue unfurled from its skull, releasing a stench stronger than rotting meat. Minhas doubled over and vomited.
“Hope ye ain’t too tired,” Royce said to Minhas between heaves. “’Cause you gotta help me get this beautiful son of a bitch into the truck.”
Chapter 6
Damaged Goods
Snowden fell. She lay on her back, staring up at the evergreen spires that loomed over her. They were only silhouettes against a stark white sky. Despite the intense cold, her arms burned. Her resolve was shattered.
She’d been dragging Zach it seemed for hours and she’d just now found blood. Zach’s blood. The drifts had been enough to cover their tracks, but the blood could not be sifted away.
She lay still for a while, cursing silently to herself and catching her breath. She would die out here, just like she should have died three months ago alongside her parents. She had been a fool to ever believe that death had forgotten her. Her lungs seared as though they’d been filleted; she hoped she would freeze soon.
“Snow.” Zach’s voice was a rasp. “Just go.”
Snowden found the strength to sit up. She leaned over
Zach, her blond ringlets falling over his face like a curtain. His eyes were glazed as though a layer of ice already sheathed them. “Zach, no. I can’t.”
“Find… Dixon.” Zach winced. The fall from the chair lifts had forced his leg at an awkward angle. White, jagged bone pierced through his jeans.
“No, Zach! I won’t leave you!” Snowden began to sob. Her tears fell like raindrops onto his face and froze. They had already lost Keeley, probably even Minhas. She couldn’t lose Zach, too.
“… keep you safe,” Zach said. “Just… go.”
Biting back a new flood of tears, Snowden planted one last kiss on Zach’s forehead. Then, balling her hands into fists, she stood, and hauled ass deeper into the mountains. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of Zach’s screams cut short as an inhumanly powerful claw broke his neck. She could almost hear his skin shred and his blood thicken as the snow-beasts cracked open his ribcage.
*
It was near dark when Snowden discovered a man-sized crevice in the rock. It could not have been more than six hours since they’d fled the resort, but daylight did not last long in the mountains. Exhausted and too cold for even her breath to warm her hands, she crawled inside, figuring that, if she were lucky, she would be dead by morning.
With her arms crossed over her chest and only her pale face visible to the elements, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep—or death—to take her. She had just started to slip away when something wrapped around her ankle.
“What the hell—?” It was a man’s voice.
Snowden jumped, but the man had already grabbed her. He pulled her roughly inside. She smacked her knees on the rock and tumbled backward, into a cave. A white lantern illuminated the rough walls. She touched the back of her head, feeling for blood, but her fingers were too numb to feel anything. She looked to the man that towered over her. He easily surpassed six feet; his head brushed against the cavern ceiling. Though his features were swathed in shadow, Snowden knew him by his voice. “Dixon?”
Dixon smiled and his teeth gleamed faintly. “Hey, Blondie.” He peered out the neck of the exit and saw only stars through the opening. “What the hell you doin’ out here? Where are your friends?”
“Dead,” Snowden answered. Even as she said it, the finality of it all did not hit her. The innocent, naïve part of her still hoped that she would climb down the mountain in the morning and see Zach and Keeley playfully arguing, Minhas with his hat turned backwards and goofy grin. But, the hardened survivor in her knew that she would never see those people again. She had their blood on her hands, and that was all that remained of them.