Return to Dyatlov Pass

~ Chapter Seven ~

The wind picked up as the sun went down, howling through the peaks. It sounded like a wild animal, reminding Nat of the photo that had been discovered in Dyatlov’s camera.

She drew closer to the fire, shivering. Now that Igor was resigned to staying behind, he had returned to his cheerful self, entertaining them both with bawdy stories. While Andrew was quieter than normal, his breathing was less pronounced, to the point she couldn’t hear it anymore. She took that to be a positive sign.

Hard to believe that five hours away from them, the rest of their group was already recreating the movements of Igor Dyatlov and his companions. Nat wondered if any sign of the decades-old tragedy remained. Was the campsite disturbing, or peaceful? Had Steven pitched his tent in the same location as Dyatlov’s? Were the treetops still burned? It was difficult to be so close, and yet so far, from the action.

Her wistfulness drove her to talk about it. Pulling out her gear, she initiated her first interview for the podcast. “What do you think happened, Igor?”

She didn’t have to elaborate. The Russian answered so quickly it was as though he’d been waiting to be asked. “I think it was the government. Yah, the radiation, the strange injuries, it makes sense. I think they stumbled onto a secret weapons-testing site and saw something they weren’t supposed to see.”

“I used to believe the same thing. But now that I’m out here, I don’t know. Those theories about the infrasound caused by the wind or avalanche paranoia making them crazy—I could see it,” Andrew said.

Igor laughed, though Nat could tell Andy wasn’t joking. “Are you going a little insane, my friend?”

“Not yet. At least, I don’t think so, but if I were, I’d probably be the last to know. Look at our group, for example.”

Nat had a feeling she knew where this was going, but had to ask anyway. She stopped recording. “What do you mean?”

“Last night, Anubha heard something outside her tent, and based on nothing but a hunch, Joe was willing to kill Steven over it. I don’t know about you guys, but he strikes me as a fairly levelheaded dude. People are already going crazy, and we aren’t even at the Dyatlov site yet.”

“That’s far from the same thing. Steven has been getting on everyone’s nerves from the beginning,” she said.

“Enough to kill him over? Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme?”

“It’s extreme, yah, but you don’t mess with a man’s wife.” Igor added more branches to the campfire, releasing a flurry of sparks.

“But that’s what I’m saying. Steven didn’t mess with Anubha. He was asleep in his tent, with you. You would have heard him if he’d left and come back in a hurry, right?”

Igor thought for a moment, using a long stick to stir the ashes amid the coals. “Yah, I think so.”

“I watched him carefully during that entire exchange, and unless he’s an Academy Award–winning actor in addition to being a highly skilled mountaineer, Joe blindsided him. Steven looked like someone who’d been startled out of a deep sleep by some bizarre crisis he didn’t understand.”

“What’s your point, Andrew?” Nat asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“My point is, Anubha heard something that sounded like a wild animal outside their tent last night. Joe, with no rhyme or reason, no method to his madness, decided that what she heard must have been Steven playing a prank. This apparently filled him with murderous rage, and even when he found Steven fast asleep in his tent, he refused to relinquish his delusion.”

Igor’s brow furrowed. “When you put it that way, it does sound weird.”

“It’s beyond weird. It makes absolutely no sense. Your wife hears a wild animal, and your first thought is that it must be this guy from California who you don’t even know?”

“Joe saw a man’s silhouette, remember? That’s what told him it was someone from our group.” Nat had hoped to never go over this again, at least not while they were still on the mountain. Because there wasn’t a rational explanation. No one in their group had had the time to sneak behind Joe and Anubha’s tent, scare her, erase their tracks, and then get back into their own tent and sleeping bag before they were confronted.

But if it hadn’t been someone in their group, who was it?

“Maybe Joe saw a shadow, and maybe he didn’t. It really doesn’t matter,” Andrew said. “Regardless of what he saw, his reaction was completely irrational.”

“So what are you saying? That Joe is a loose cannon?” Nat shifted her weight on the log, growing uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. The last thing she wanted was to talk about the other members of the group behind their backs, especially a guy she liked as much as Joe. It was one thing when it was only she and Andrew. Then it could be forgiven as shoptalk. But now Igor was privy to it too.

Then she had a horrible thought. What if the rest of the group were talking about them? The two weak links and their Russian babysitter. She could only imagine what they’d say. Her cheeks grew hot at the thought of it.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. Joe strikes me as a thoughtful, methodical guy, not someone to fly off the handle. But he did fly off the handle.”

“And so?” She really wished he’d get to the point. He certainly had recovered his wind.

“And so, if on the very first night on this mountain, the most rational member of our group snapped and almost murdered another man for doing something he obviously didn’t do, what’s going to happen to us the longer we stay here? What’s happening to them now, with all those bad vibes surrounding them? If Steven were smart, he’d have stayed down here with us. You’re not there to protect him now, Igor. What if Joe goes crazy again? Who’s going to stop him?”

“Bad vibes?” Nat had never heard the like come out of her producer’s mouth before. He was supposed to be the skeptical half of their equation.

Andrew brushed her off with a wave of his hand. “Bad vibes, bad karma, negative energy, whatever you want to call it. I could feel it as soon as we set foot on this mountain. But up there—up there, they must be swimming in it.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s your imagination, nothing more. It’s because you know what happened up here. That would make anyone jump at shadows.”

“It wasn’t my imagination when Joe went crazy last night. Did you see Anubha’s face? I’m willing to bet that was completely out of character for him. And what happened to the Dyatlov group wasn’t my imagination, either. Something drove them out of their tent and something tore them apart.”

“Let’s talk about something else. You two are starting to freak me out,” Igor said.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t talk about Joe when he’s not here to defend himself. Imagine if they’re doing the same to us.” Nat hoped they weren’t, but then again, would it be so bad if it gave the team an opportunity to vent a little? She was sure sticking to such a slow pace had been frustrating for them, some more than others.

“Fine. Whatever. You asked for my theory, and I gave it to you.” Andrew leaned back, propping his feet in front of the flames.

“That was your theory?” Nat couldn’t resist poking at him a little. “What, that Joe went mad and murdered everyone?”

“Laugh at me if you want, but some places are just plain bad. You know it as well as I do. Remember Poveglia?” Andrew asked, referencing the most haunted island in the world. Poveglia had been the subject of their most popular cast to date. Nothing supernatural had happened during their visit, but there was an oppressive sense of dread about the place that infected you until you felt you’d go out of your mind. “I knew it was evil, the same way I know this place is evil. I’m willing to bet the reason it’s called Dead Mountain has nothing to do with the lack of game. People die here.”

“Now you’re scaring me.” Nat rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to get rid of the goosebumps.

“I think we should be scared. Like Steven said, this isn’t a celebration. We shouldn’t be acting like it is.”

“You two can talk about evil all night if you want. Me, I’m going to have a drink.” Igor stood, stretching his hands so his knuckles popped. “Anyone want to join me?”

“Whatcha got?” Andrew asked.

“Andrew, are you sure that’s the smartest idea? What if Lana’s right, and you do have altitude sickness? I’m sure alcohol won’t help.”

“Alcohol never hurts,” Igor said, the flickering firelight turning his grin sinister. Great, now she was the one imagining things. Fucking Andrew. She would probably have nightmares, and it would be his fault.

“If I’m going to die on this godforsaken mountain, I might as well enjoy whatever time I have left. Make it a double, Igor.”

“Are you crazy? We drink from the bottle. Every man for himself. And maybe, every woman?”

“No thanks. One of us should retain control of her faculties.” Nat glared at Andrew, but if he noticed, it didn’t faze him. “I am not carrying either of you tomorrow, so keep that in mind.”

“Jesus, Nat. It’s one drink. When did you turn into such a pill? Don’t know if you got the memo, but prohibition is over.”

“Prohibition never started here,” Igor said, to which both men guffawed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Perhaps the altitude was getting to them both.

When the Russian returned with his bottle of hooch, hoisting it in triumph, an unearthly howl split the night. It made the hairs on the back of Nat’s neck rise, and she grabbed Andrew’s leg and squeezed it without thinking.

“Hey!” he yelped, squirming to get away from her.

“What the fuck was that?”

Only Igor took it in stride. “Wolves.”

“That was no fucking wolf. I know what a wolf sounds like,” Andrew said.

“Russian wolves, they are different.” Igor raised his hands to the sky. “My children of the night, what beautiful music they make.”

“Beautiful music my ass.”

Nat had to agree with Andrew. There had been nothing beautiful about that howl. It was entirely too close for comfort. “Do you think the rest of the group is all right?”

“Sure, they are all right. They have three powerful hunters. We have just each other. And this.” Igor took a long drink from his bottle before handing it to Andrew.

“I’m really sorry for fucking everything up, Nat.”

She patted Andrew’s foot, the only thing that was within reach since he’d moved away from her. “You didn’t fuck up anything.”

“I did, though. It’s my fault that we’re here while the rest of the group is having a roaring good time.” Turning the bottle over in his hands, he studied the clear liquid as if wanting to commit it to memory.

Nat pictured the dour Vasily, Steven the pessimist, and the tension that no doubt emanated from Joe. Though the separation increased her anxiety, in a way she was glad to get a break from them. So much drama. That was what always resulted when other people got involved with her projects. “I seriously doubt that. Have you met the rest of our group?”

Andrew laughed. “True. They’re not exactly party-hearty types.”

“We have the party right here. I brought it with me.” Igor gestured to his bottle, which Andrew was still regarding like a museum specimen. “Drink up, my friends.”

When Andrew passed the bottle to her, she took a long drink, the moonshine tracing a trail of fire down her throat to her belly.

Misery loved company, after all. And she was no party pooper.