The River of Bones v5

by Tom Hron

  Simon, looking back and forth, walked to the Werewolf. “This is an archaeologist’s dream, and now I know why Pavlov wanted to come here. The little idolater wanted to join his ancestors. We’re standing on the largest ancient village I’ve ever seen. Did you see the open graves where the second river has washed away the shore near its mouth? There were skulls and bones everywhere.”

  Swinging sideways, Jake jumped down from the Werewolf. He had missed seeing the graves, but finally some answers had fallen into place. Then he saw Yuri walking over to them.

  “Sasha told me that you two have lost everything. I’m not accustomed to people who would give up their lives just to help a stranger. Would you promise me one more thing?”

  Glancing over, Jake saw Simon still seemed willing. “We came here looking for diamonds as well,” he answered, “so it’s wrong to think that we’re heroes. The agreement was to rescue you, not the other way around. What would you like us to do?”

  “Take Sasha to Canada like you said last night and someday you can tell me where she lives. Will you make me that promise?”

  But would she ever leave her father, Jake wondered? And what were Yuri’s plans, because it seemed almost suicidal to stay behind?

  “Yes, but I doubt that she will come with us, besides we might not be lucky enough to make it anyway. Half of Russia must be looking for us by now, and I’m worried about you as well.

  How will you live out here?”

  “Sasha has to learn to live without me, and I’ll make her understand that she must go, for her own sake, as well as mine. She has a chance at life with you, but none if she stays here. I’m sure you’ll make it to Alaska, and your worry about me is silly. The old man taught me how to survive.”

  Jake glanced at Simon again. They had seen men become delusional before when they’d been lost in a wilderness too long. Had Yuri gotten irrational during his strange odyssey? Sadly, they didn’t have the time to find out.

  “How can we help? It’s important we leave as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t you want to see the diamonds?” Pavlov’s eyes brightened. “Maybe you should take some with you, and what will a few hours matter when you’ve come so far?”

  Jake heard Simon choke, and his own breathing stopped for an instant. The last piece of the puzzle had been given them. Christ, yes, they’d take the time. They had finally caught their lucky break. He began feeling embarrassed about his inability to say anything.

  Yuri smiled. “Walk past the graves where the river is eroding them away, then you’ll come to a sharp bend and a backwater lagoon a little way upstream. Search along the shore wherever you see coarse gravel. Take enough to make your friends and you rich, but leave the bones and artifacts undisturbed. They’re sacred. Sasha will help you after we get done talking, and she will need some for herself.”

  “We should bury your friend,” said Jake. “I promised.”

  “Nyet. Kozlov will help me, and it’s only fair that he stays here. I don’t want him to see the diamonds, because he’d only want some for himself.”

  What more could he say, and it seemed pointless to argue. Yuri was clearly sane enough to make up his own mind, and the general had no weapons and was the smaller man. Moreover, Simon’s pleading eyes were too much to bear.

  “Tell Molly to give you the rifle she has,” said Jake. “Then ask Sasha to join us as soon as she can, because I haven’t any idea how to find diamonds.”

  “Thank you and good luck on your way home.” Yuri embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks, then turned and embraced Simon as well.

  They watched him walk away, and then Molly handed him the Kalashnikov and came back, smiling.

  “Yuri said you knew where to find the diamonds. Is that true?”

  “They’re upriver from the bones we saw,” said Simon, “less than a mile away.”

  Molly wrinkled her face. “Do we dare take the time? Nothing is worth our lives.”

  They stared at the nearby river. . . . Jake remembered his promise. Why come so far and not at least try, as Yuri had said? And for that matter, why worry about anything, since they’d already faced so much danger?

  “We can spare a few hours,” he said, “and we have to wait for Sasha, anyway. Let’s go.” He turned upriver.

  “Let me get a shovel.” Simon’s voice almost broke he was so excited. “I’ll catch up in a second.”

  Jake heard Simon’s running footsteps fade away, then overtake Molly and him just as fast, and then he felt his own excitement growing. Could it be true, and would he really see wealth beyond his dreams? He hoped so, because he’d been poor for so long.

  They walked along the river, seeing it strewn with jawbones and teeth stained brown by time, ribs and femurs sticking out like little picket fences, and skulls staring out through black sockets.

  Jake began wondering about life. Suddenly, poverty and prosperity looked all the same, at least in eternity. An entire society had lived for ages beside unimaginable riches and it hadn’t made any difference to them. Then he saw a few skulls with holes in them. Violence had visited the place long ago, as he’d seen at archaeological sites before, thought to have been inhabited for thousands of years. Now time felt more precious than anything, and he walked faster.

  They stopped at the place that Yuri had described. Beaches of coarse sand, mixed with stones, ran along the water, and a steep bank stood where the river flowed around a corner. Jake saw that Simon and Molly felt as unsure as he did, overwhelmed by what lay ahead. How could they find anything here? He remembered crawling on his hands and knees when was a little boy, looking for four-leaf clovers, and this didn’t appear it would be any easier.

  “Simon, take Molly and look along the lagoon, and I’ll stay here by the river and wait for Sasha. Maybe I can find something with my fingers where the sun has thawed the permafrost. It looks like we’re searching for a needle in the haystack.”

  “Start by looking for broken kimberlite, tiny pieces of igneous rock colored green, like copper ore, but not blue.” Molly crouched alongside them and brushed the sand with her right hand. “Diamonds are found in the same kind of rock, if they exist at all, like gold nuggets are sometimes found with quartz.”

  “Where did you learn about kimberlite, for crying out loud?” asked Simon.

  “I lived with the finest geologist in Russia last winter. Don’t you remember?” She smiled.

  Jake shook his head. “All right, you two, don’t start arguing again. Go upriver and search like I told you.”

  He watched them walk away, talking about the diamonds they’d find. Not much more could happen in life than what now surrounded him, and he wondered what part he played in the vicissitude. He thought about the five different people around him—Simon and Molly, thrilled to be off treasure hunting. Sasha, facing life without her father. Yuri, suffering from his own sad loss. And Kozlov, struggling to stay alive, even though it meant leaving his homeland. So much happiness and so much sadness. He shook off his melancholy, walked to the nearest bank, and started digging. His part in everything didn’t seem very clear.

  A hour passed and he didn’t find anything. He moved a little way and stood on a flat boulder, letting him reach higher. What was all the yellow ocher, lying like grease in the soil? Then he saw something fall, tinkling as it hit the rocks below. Had it broken, and what on earth was it? He stepped down and looked at it. The object lay near his feet and seemed to be made of thin slate, and he picked it up and stared in amazement. A stone blade, polished like a butcher knife, tiny holes drilled in one end for a wooden handle, but long since rotted away, lay in his hand. It must have taken a primitive man or woman countless hours to grind the stone to its beautiful shape and sharpness. He wished he could keep it, because it was so beautiful.

  “You’ve found an old woman’s grave, and her family buried her with her most prized possession. She must have been worshiped, because they used yellow ocher, a sign of status.”

  Sasha’s voice surprised
him. He had become so engrossed with his discovery that he’d forgotten her. Turning, he saw that she’d been crying.

  “I need to put it back, because I promised your father we’d leave the artifacts alone.”

  “Keep it. My father doesn’t make sense anymore.”

  “No. I gave my word. . . . Isn’t there any way I can help you feel better? Your father loves you and only wants what’s best.” He waited—there wasn’t any use in keeping it hidden any longer—he might as well tell her. “I’m in love with you, so I want you to come with me. I’m sure we can find a way to stay happy together.”

  She stared, letting the silence break his heart. “I can’t feel anything right now because of my father,” she answered. “Why can’t he come with us? Why is he throwing his life away? I’m so confused—”

  “It’s something inside him . . . the old man whom he loved like a father, living alone, Zorkin as well. I suppose he’s finding himself, because sometimes people lose their identity inside.”

  “So he’s going to lose his life instead—” She stopped, struggling for control. “None of this makes any sense.” She paused again, as if a moment of anger had rushed through her. Jake stood there, not knowing what to say.

  She grabbed the stone blade from his hands, tears running down her cheeks. “Give me the knife and I’ll use it for digging his damn diamonds, which mean nothing to me, not without him.” Seconds later, she added, “Why doesn’t he want to come with us?”

  Pain, anger, bewilderment . . . her passions made good sense, but what could he say? Nothing seemed right, except asking for help and hoping she’d forget how she felt, however difficult that might be. Maybe she’d listen to his plea.

  “Sasha, I need your help. Look at my hands, and I haven’t found anything. I’ll be crippled in an hour and won’t be able to fly.”

  She stood beside the river bank, staring across the water. “Come with me,” she said, “ because this is the wrong place.” She led him along the steep shore, and then she stopped and used the stone knife to pry a small rock out of the gravel. She thrust it into his hands. They had discovered their first diamond, stuck in the greenish rubble.

  Hours passed, and one by one they dug out rose-colored diamonds until they’d found a dozen of them, some as large as acorns. Now and then they heard Simon and Molly cry out in the distance. Apparently, they had discovered their own treasure.

  Jake felt himself wanting to stay longer, but his fear kept building. Greed had ruined so many people, and his mind was telling him it was time to go.

  He faced Sasha. “Do you know how much these stones are worth?”

  “You won’t know until they’re appraised in New York or Amsterdam, where the most important buyers are, but one perfect diamond would buy a new life for—” Her eyes grew moist again.

  He reached out and held her, feeling her sadness, wishing he had a way to make it go away. At last he let her go and looked for Simon and Molly. Using his fingers, he whistled and caught their attention, and when they looked his way, he waved them back. Taking her hand, he led the way downriver. They climbed the shore and walked toward the helicopters, sitting like Pterosaur fossils in the paradise her father had shown them. Suddenly, he stopped.

  “Where did they go?” he asked. “We need the commandant.”

  Sasha stood there, tears streaming down her face, staring at a nearby mound of fresh dirt.

  “He went to kill Zorkin.”

  “But where’s Kozlov?”

  “He’s gone, too.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE BERING STRAITS

  Simon tamped the fresh dirt covering the grave with his foot. Turning, he stared at Sasha, who stood in the distance with Molly. “I wonder who’s in this hole,” he asked, “or are there two bodies down there?”

  Agonizing, Jake wondered if she had actually witnessed murder. It seemed unlikely . . . yet she must have at least suspected that her father meant to kill Kozlov when their backs were turned. What should they do? “Yuri’s a dead man if he hunts Zorkin by himself,” he answered. “You think we should go help him?”

  “We’ve got to leave, regardless of how we feel.” Simon’s eyes turned darker. “Time’s running out, and if we turn back now we’re doomed. We have to let him go, as sad as it seems, and we couldn’t find him in this country, anyway, even if we wanted to, not in a thousand years. He’s been schooled by an Evenki, and they’re the best woodsmen in the world.”

  “If he doesn’t kill him, Zorkin will stalk us for the rest of our lives,” said Jake. “Maybe we should kill him ourselves.”

  “Some other day, but not now. We have to get out of here and sleep for a few hours. I’m so tired I can’t see straight, which is an even better reason not to pick a fight. We will kill ourselves if we try flying much farther without some decent rest.”

  Jake thought about the future. Simon and he could hide Sasha so she wouldn’t have to worry about Zorkin, or the Mafiya for that matter, since they posed a threat as well, but what about Molly, Simon, and himself? Where would they hide when they returned home? Their trip had given them great wealth, assuming they lived long enough to sell the diamonds, but it had earned them enemies who would never rest until they got revenge. Their triumph tasted bittersweet, and now he would need to sleep with one eye open for the rest of his life. He leaned over, picked up a handful of dirt, and let it slip through his fingers. “Are you scared?” he asked.

  Simon laughed. “Only when I’m awake, otherwise I’m as brave as anyone.” He turned toward the helicopters. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we find out what real fear feels like. Once you’ve seen a Mig Foxbat head-on you’ll know what I mean.” He called for Molly and Sasha to climb aboard the Hip.

  Jake stood by the grave for a moment. His friend was right—the time had come to run like a deer, and more important, the time had come to sleep. Flying hotrod helicopters when one was overtired was an accident waiting to happen. They had better fly an hour or so, find a hideout, and get some sleep. They could always fly the following day, then bootleg across the Bering Straits.

  He turned toward both helicopters and wondered where to spend the night. Why not along the Lena, saving them the time necessary to find a fuel barge later on? There was every likelihood one would come along first thing in morning, plowing against the currents of the biggest river in Siberia. The map he’d carried along showed the Lena was filled with islands, perfect places for hiding.

  Simon and he needed to coordinate their speeds and avoid losing sight of each other too, which meant he’d have to use a low percentage of torque (power), because the Werewolf was so much faster than the Hip. Though, that would help save fuel. His mind spun through the problems they faced.

  Simon, his brow set, waited for him beside the Hip. Jake looked at him, since you never knew. “Have you seen the Lena before?” he asked. “We’ll reach it in less than two hours. Let’s hide there until morning and raid the first barge that comes along. Afterward, we’ll have enough fuel to reach Alaska.”

  “Just the headwaters near Lake Baikal. It’s by far the busiest river in Siberia.”

  Jake worried about protecting the three of them. They would see Molly hanging out the door of the Hip with one of the Kalashnivkovs, ready to take on the world, otherwise.

  “I’ll fly a little higher than you and hang back, flying cover,” he said. “Stay on our frequency, in case we see trouble.”

  Simon nodded. Afterward, Jake watched him climb on board and sit in the pilot’s seat, beside Molly, who had already taken the copilot’s side. She would help fly the Hip, mostly because Simon wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off the controls. She was a true daredevil, seeking all the excitement she could, especially when it came to flying. Sasha, who still looked inconsolable, sat in the jump seat behind them, staring insensibly at the fuel bladders in back. Again, Jake wondered what her father had said when they’d parted the last time.

  He walked to the Werewolf and started the
turbines, saw Simon take off, and followed him, carefully keeping him in sight, meanwhile weighing all the dangers they faced. Siberia was larger than the contingent forty-eight states, so the chance of their being discovered was small. But if Zorkin dreamed up a good story and convinced Moscow to chase them, the Frontal Air Force would wait for them in the Far East, near Big and Little Diomede Islands, Provendenya, and St. Lawrence Island, all sitting alongside the international border. The only good thing . . . once Simon and he left the coastline, it wasn’t very far to freedom, only thirty miles, or a little more than ten minutes.

  The Russians wouldn’t give a damn if the Hip got away. They would concentrate on stopping the Werewolf, their latest and greatest tank killing technology. Simon and he must trend north, making it harder for the air force to find them, sneak through the Anadyr Mountains, fly along the north side of Cape Dezhney, called the East Cape by the polar bear hunters in the 1950s, and, once there, pray for a foggy night.

  After an hour he saw the land slope toward the Lena River. A short time later, he saw the Werchoyansky Mountain Range standing on the far side of the taiga along the river. Again, Siberia reminded him of Alaska, with all its wild rivers, dark forests, and shining mountains. Whatever the outcome of their incredible journey, the magnificence of the country would stay in his heart and he’d think some longing had been satisfied. He would also know that Siberia was the richest place on earth.

  He saw the river just ahead, running full of sediments, colored like coffee-and-cream, and Simon and he followed it, looking for a place to land. The Yakut word, Lena, meant “very big river,” a fitting translation by anyone’s description. The main channel lay in front of him, several miles wide, roiling, dirty, though life-giving to those who revered it. He had grown up beside the Mississippi and loved rivers all his life.