The Mountain

by Richard Turner

  Zaro wiped the dirt from his hands, looked over at Bruce, and said, “Take a five-minute break. We’re almost done. I’ll check your work while you get a drink of water.”

  “Sounds good to me,” replied Bruce as he stepped away from the ring of explosives in place all around the tunnel. He walked over to his pack, grabbed his canteen, and took a deep swig of ice-cold water. Right away, he felt the refreshing liquid cool his insides. He placed his canteen down and looked over at his ice axe; it had a long flat edge on one end and a thin, sharp point on the other. He wasn’t sure he could do what Shaw had told him to do. In fact, he was certain that he couldn’t take his pick and jam it into Zaro’s skull, no matter the circumstances. The thought of killing another man in cold blood sent a shiver down Bruce’s spine.

  “For a man who says he has never worked with explosives,” said Zaro over his shoulder, “you’ve done a pretty good job.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” replied Bruce. It was a lie. Once he was shown what to do, Bruce had it memorized for life; he could now prepare the explosives blindfolded. Fatigued, Bruce stretched his hands over the top of his head and nonchalantly looked about for Zaro’s submachine gun. He spotted it lying on top of an empty wooden crate, a few feet behind Zaro. He lowered his hands and began to walk towards the weapon. If he could take Zaro prisoner until Shaw returned, then that was precisely what he intended to do.

  He hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps when he saw out of the corner of his eye something moving in the shadows.

  A horrible, nauseating odor wafted in the air.

  Bruce, instantly, froze in place. He could feel his heart begin to race. He was about to dash the last couple of yards and grab Zaro’s weapon, when he heard a deep, guttural growl off to his right-hand side.

  There were two of them.

  Suddenly, like a flash of white on a black background, one of the beasts leapt out of the dark and landed right behind Zaro. In an instant, it reached out and grabbed his head and pulled him backwards. Zaro didn’t stand a chance. The creature opened its mouth and sank its teeth into Zaro’s exposed neck. Blood spurted everywhere as the doomed man thrashed from side to side trying to break the beast’s hold on his neck.

  With adrenaline surging through his body, Bruce ran for the submachine gun. He scooped it up in his hands and turned just in time to see the second beast emerge like a ghost from the shadows. With its arms outstretched and its teeth bared, it ran towards Bruce. He barely had time to aim the weapon at the advancing creature. He gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  Panic surged through his body. He looked down and saw that the safety was still on. With his thumb, he flipped the safety to automatic and depressed the trigger. The sound of the submachine firing inside the cavern was deafening. Bullets tore into the beast’s stomach. With a pained howl, the creature’s knees buckled. A second later, it fell onto the ground, its white fur covered in blood.

  Bruce spun on his heels and turned to face Zaro’s attacker, but it wasn’t there anymore. Zaro’s bloodied body lay on the cold ground with a river of blood pouring from the fatal wound in his neck.

  “Damn,” muttered Bruce. The creature had vanished back into the dark. He knew that he had to find it before it killed him.

  He edged back over to where he had been working, picked up his flashlight, placed it alongside his weapon and turned it on. Its light pierced the blackness. He couldn’t see or hear it, but Bruce knew it was out there, hunting him. He took a deep breath to calm himself and then slowly began to move the light along the cavern wall, searching for the other beast. Bruce kept his back against the wall of the cavern so the beast couldn’t sneak up behind him. He was beginning to wonder where it had gone when, for a brief second, he saw a pair of red eyes reflecting in the dark. Bruce pulled back on the trigger of the submachine gun and fired a long burst.

  The sound of bullets striking rock echoed through the massive chamber.

  He shone his flashlight about and then loudly swore. He had hit nothing. The beast was nowhere to be seen.

  “Come you big bastard, show yerself,” called out Bruce.

  As he moved the light along, Bruce saw a flash of white fur.

  Suddenly with a blood-curdling howl, the beast ran out of the darkness, straight at Bruce. Firing his weapon, Bruce saw a couple of rounds hit the creature in its chest and right shoulder, making it stop in its tracks and howl in pain.

  Silence.

  Bruce glanced down.

  Fear instantly coursed through his body. His weapon was empty.

  He turned his head and saw Zaro’s body. On it was the spare ammunition for the submachine gun. Bruce was about to run like hell over to Zaro when the wounded beast staggered forward, blocking his way. Bruce did the first thing that came to mind. He screamed at the top of his lungs at the beast and then hurled the empty weapon at the creature’s head, making it duck. With a blast of adrenaline, Bruce ran as fast he could. He went for the only weapon in sight: his ice pick. Bruce picked it up, raised it above his head, and stood his ground.

  Although gravely wounded the beast wasn’t going to give in until either it or Bruce was dead. It growled, turned around, and then slowly walked towards its quarry.

  Bruce knew that he had seconds to live. He tightly squeezed the ice axe in his hand until his knuckles turned white. The creature was like a vision straight from hell. Bruce could see Zaro’s blood and flesh hanging from the scraggly fur all around the monster’s mouth. He waited until the beast was barely three feet away. With a loud scream from deep inside, Bruce brought the axe down into the creature’s chest.

  The beast screamed in pain and staggered back. It reached over with its left paw and tried to pull the pickaxe from its bloodied chest.

  Bruce couldn’t believe that the creature was still on its feet. He knew that he had to finish it off. Even though it was gravely wounded, Bruce knew that it was still far stronger than he was. He turned his head slightly and saw the submachine gun lying on the ground. In a flash, Bruce ran for it. He scooped it up with his right hand and ejected the empty magazine, and dashed over beside Zaro’s corpse. He forced himself to block the image of the dead man’s torn open throat from his mind. Quickly rolling the body to one side, he opened an ammunition pouch on Zaro’s belt, grabbed a fresh magazine, and jammed it home in his submachine gun.

  The sound of feet running along the cavern floor filed Bruce’s ears.

  He turned about to face the beast.

  Bruce had barely brought his weapon up when the creature smashed him across the side of his head, sending him flying against the wall of the cavern. With blood pouring from its mouth, the beast staggered at Bruce. Dazed from the blow, Bruce fumbled for his weapon. He began to panic when he couldn’t find it. A second later, he saw it on the ground beside him. He dropped to his knees, grabbed hold of the weapon just as the creature stepped over him and then hauled back a bloodied arm, intending to smash Bruce’s skull into a bloody pulp. At less than a yard, Bruce pulled back on the trigger. A stream of bullets struck the monster in its chest until the submachine gun’s magazine was empty.

  With a bloody froth around its mouth, the beast tried to step forward. Instead, it fell over on its side, dead.

  Bruce looked over at the bloody carnage spread out across the rocky ground. He couldn’t believe his luck. When he looked down at his hands, he saw they were shaking.

  “Well, at least yer still alive, old boy,” said Bruce to himself.

  He reached over and grabbed the two more full magazines from the pouch on Zaro’s side. Quickly jamming them in his pockets, Bruce stood up and looked back into the vast blackness of the cavern. His thoughts turned to Shaw and Amrit. If he had been attacked, they surely were in danger as well.

  The nauseating smell all around them was getting stronger by the second.

  Shaw pulled the pickaxe from his backpack and then handed it to Choling. He moved over beside Amrit, removed her axe from her p
ack, and told her to keep it close. Shaw said to Choling, “Keep everyone together. I’m going to tell Adler that we’ve got company.”

  Shaw walked up to Adler and said, “We have to turn back while we still can.”

  Adler smirked. “Why on earth would I do that?”

  “Because the beasts that attacked us the other night at our camp are here in this cave with us, that’s why.”

  Adler shone his light around. He saw nothing but rock and darkness. “You’ll have to do better than that, Shaw, if you expect me to believe you.”

  Shaw gritted his teeth in frustration. “Can’t you smell them?”

  “It’s only sulfur,” replied Adler, taking in a deep whiff of the stale air in the cave.

  “Trust me, they’re here. Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean that they aren’t here,” warned Shaw.

  “You’re boring me, Shaw. We’re pushing on. Fall back in line or I’ll have you shot.”

  Shaw shook his head and walked back over to his comrades.

  “What did he say?” asked Amrit.

  “He wouldn’t listen to me,” replied Shaw. “He thinks I’m making it up, so we’ll have a reason to turn back.”

  “What are we going to do?” asked Choling.

  “Stay close to Sangdrol. Let him know what is going on, and if you get the chance, kill the two Afghans and take their weapons,” said Shaw quietly so Silvas wouldn’t hear what they were planning.

  “What about me?” said Amrit

  “If you can, make a run for it,” replied Shaw. “Make your way back to Duncan. Together you should be able to make it down safely.”

  “What about you?” asked Amrit, her voice full of concern.

  “I don’t intend to die down here,” he replied with a grin on his face. “I’ll just be a little bit behind you.”

  “Let’s go,” said Adler, his voice echoing in the stygian darkness of the cave.

  “I wish he’d shut up,” said Shaw under his breath. “He’ll have those things on us before we know what’s happening.”

  “Get in line,” said Silvas, prodding Shaw with his submachine gun.

  Pushing the barrel of Silvas’ weapon aside, Shaw looked down on the broad-shouldered man. “If I were you, I’d keep a sharp eye out behind us.”

  “Why’s that?” said Silvas with a smirk on his face.

  “Because what you don’t see will kill you.”

  Silvas looked hesitantly at Shaw. He was about to give him a poke in the ribs with his weapon, when he finally understood what Shaw had meant. He spun about on his heels and shone his flashlight all about behind him.

  The tunnel leading into the massive cavern was empty.

  “You’re a fool, Shaw, there’s nothing back there,” said Silvas, doing his best to appear unperturbed.

  “For now,” replied Shaw as he helped Amrit to adjust her pack. He could see the fear growing in her eyes. He told her to walk near Sangdrol for safety. If anyone could kill one of the beasts with his bare hands, it was Sangdrol, thought Shaw.

  Shaw once more checked the pocket with his hidden pistol. He made sure that he could grab it the instant he needed it.

  They had walked for less than a minute when Adler stopped and asked Shaw to join him.

  Shaw walked up and saw that Adler was looking all around him as if searching for something. “What do you want now, Adler?” asked Shaw, not bothering to hide his scorn for the man.

  “Mister Shaw, I take it back. You may be right,” said Adler, barely above a whisper. “I can smell it now. It is the same horrid smell in the air from the night when Roja, and one of the Afghans were taken.”

  “It’s not too late to turn back,” said Shaw.

  Adler glared Shaw. “We cannot go back. Not now, I must find the Vril device. I am not afraid to risk dying for my country.”

  “Well, Colonel, you can die for yours if you wish; I, however, have no intention of dying down here.”

  “Herr Adler, I’ve got something,” said Ortega excitedly as she waved her device through the air. “It’s a faint reading but there is something out here.”

  “There, you see, Mister Shaw. We are close. I can sense it,” said Adler.

  A faint noise off to the right from somewhere in the darkness caught Shaw’s ear. He instantly raised a hand to silence Adler. Slowly, he turned head towards the sound. Cautiously, he stepped away from Adler, shining his flashlight into the all-consuming blackness. He made his way up onto a slight rocky rise and then shone his light downwards; what he saw made his heart skip a beat. Lying in a large circle around a shallow pool of water that shone a bright bluish-green under Shaw’s flashlight were dozens of sleeping white-haired beasts. Their slow, heavy breathing filled the air. They all looked immobile, almost statue-like, except for one smaller creature that was thrashing about in its sleep. Thousands of bones littered the cave floor. Animal and human remains stretched out into the vast darkness. It was obvious that Choling’s grandfather hadn’t been quite truthful. From the number of gnawed-upon skulls that Shaw could see, the Rakshasas had been feeding upon the people and the livestock of the valley for centuries. Shaw turned off his light; the last thing he wanted to do was wake any of them up. Quietly, he stepped back and turned to face Adler.

  “There are dozens of those animals sleeping back there,” whispered Shaw as he pointed back over his shoulder. “I don’t think we should be here when they wake up, do you?”

  “Nor do I,” replied Adler. He glanced down at his watch. He knew that it would be dark outside within the hour. As soon as he sun went down, the beasts, driven by hunger, would stir and go in search of food. “We have to find the Vril device and leave here in the next hour, or we’ll all end up dead. You included, Mister Shaw.”

  He ordered Ortega to take the lead with her Geiger counter. Adler, driven by his fanaticism, was not going to turn back, not now, not ever. He pushed them on, deeper into the cold, unforgiving darkness.

  A few minutes later, they came to the end of the cavern. Adler swore when he saw that there were two tunnels leading off from the cavern.

  Ortega stood there, quietly scanning the entrances. Adler walked over to her side. She lowered the device and pointed out that both tunnels showed signs of radioactivity and could potentially lead to the device. She just wasn’t sure which one to recommend.

  “Which one?” asked Adler brusquely.

  “I don’t know, Herr Adler,” replied Ortega. After hearing Shaw mention that there were monsters lurking in the dark, her mind began to play tricks on her. Every rock, shadow, or stalagmite became a beast waiting to rip her to pieces. She was terrified.

  “Damn it, woman, pick one!”

  Shaw sensed that his only opportunity to escape had arisen. He looked over at Silvas, who was busy shining his light back and forth behind them. Slowly, Shaw reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol. Keeping it hidden from sight, he moved beside Amrit; whispering in her ear, he told her to be ready.

  Amrit tensed and nodded her head.

  Shaw was about to step over to warn Choling when all hell broke loose.

  Like wraiths appearing from nowhere, a beast leapt down from a darkened ledge and landed on top of one of the Afghans. It instantly bit into the hapless man’s neck, snapping it like a twig.

  Shaw instinctively pushed Amrit down the nearest tunnel and told her to run. He turned, grabbed Choling by the arm and told him and Sangdrol to follow Amrit. Shaw could hear the sound of flesh being torn from the dead Afghan’s neck. He stepped back and brought up his pistol to fire at the creature, but Silvas, in shock, had foolishly moved in front of him.

  With eyes as wide as saucers, Silvas emptied an entire magazine into the monster’s back.

  A frightening howl shook the chamber, instantly followed by the cries of more beasts.

  They were awake, and they were hungry.

  Shaw turned to look back the way they came and saw a tidal wave of white surging towards them.

  Fear and the
instinct of self-preservation kicked in. In a flash, Shaw threw his shoulder into Silvas’ back, knocking him off his feet. As quick as he could, Shaw scooped up the dead Afghan’s rifle and jumped back out of sight. Rather than waste shots on the charging beasts, Shaw pivoted on his heels and ran into the tunnel. Up ahead he could hear the footsteps of his friends as they ran for their lives. Behind him, the sound of automatic gunfire tore through the air.

  Adler, Ortega, Silvas and the lone surviving Afghan guard stood with their backs to the other tunnel opening and desperately sprayed bullets into the howling mob of bloodthirsty beasts. Firing from the hip, they shot down at least eight creatures. Most died within feet of the Nazis, their bloodied corpses covering the ground. It wasn’t long before the others broke off their attack and vanished from sight into the depths of the vast cavern. Smoke wafted up into the air from the red-hot barrels of the German submachine guns.

  “Where did Shaw and the others go?” asked Adler, looking about.

  “They ran down the other tunnel,” answered Silvas.

  “Who was carrying Ortega’s supplies?”

  Silvas looked down and said, “The dead Afghan has her supplies.”

  “Thank God we didn’t lose that. Take his pack and put it on your back,” ordered Adler.

  “What about the extra explosives?” said Silvas. “One of the Tibetans had them with him.”

  “We don’t need them. If Zaro does his job, no one will find this cavern for a thousand years.”

  A few seconds later, with Ortega leading, they began to jog down the narrow tunnel. It was going to be a race to see who got to the Vril device first. It was a race Adler did not intend to lose.