‘The Chinese are coming,’ she whispered. ‘We must evacuate the monastery.’
Before the Abbot could answer, Rega turned back towards the crowd. He had heard what she had said.
‘The moment has come, my brothers!’ he bellowed. ‘The Chinese are finally upon us. It is time to fight!’
At this the Abbot finally raised his hand, trying to shout above the wave of fresh panic and shouting that erupted.
‘No! Do not give in to violence. We must evacuate, go deeper into the mountains…’
‘Fight!’ Rega screamed again, punching his arm into the air. ‘It is time for Geltang to lead the revolution and defeat the Chinese! We must fight!’
The monks burst into action, surging towards the temple doors. Eyes were wide with elation while fists punched the air, mimicking Rega. Some held heavy brass candlesticks in their hands, while others had broken the low palisade surrounding the dais, using the thick wooden poles as makeshift cudgels. They began stampeding towards the temple doors, a mob ready to lynch anyone in their path.
Rega’s voice carried above the din, urging them on with every last breath, while the Abbot shouted in vain, still trying to be heard.
In the space just before the dais, Babu sat down on the floor. He inhaled deeply, tucking one leg across the other in the lotus position, and with his hands gently resting on his knees, began a slow, melodious chant. The words rolled from his lips as his eyes clamped shut, his expression changing to one of complete calm. Amidst the mayhem and confusion, his stillness attracted the attention of those immediately surrounding him.
The Abbot stared down at him, an incredulous smile on his lips. Then he moved forward and lowered himself on to the floor beside him, staring at the boy’s face for an instant before shutting his own eyes and picking up the same chant. Their two heads swayed back and forth in unison, the words rolling from their lips in a soft, unbroken flow.
In the semi-circle around the dais the crowd stared at them, caught between the hysteria of the novices and the sudden calmness of the Abbot and the boy. Dorje bustled to the front, joining them on the floor, before Shara quickly followed, settling herself down beside Babu. A few of the elders who were watching also lowered themselves on to the ground, picking up the rhythm of the chant. Then more followed. And still more.
Voice built on voice, merging together to create a steady undercurrent to the panic all around. Up on the dais, Rega jerked his head from side to side.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ he shouted, trying to understand where the chant was coming from. ‘The Chinese approach. You cannot just sit here in prayer!’
Soon a different sort of movement was spreading through the great hall as the remaining monks looked back and saw a growing circle of their brothers seated on the floor. While some just turned to stare at the spectacle, others followed suit. Large swathes of the temple began to fill with seated monks, joined shoulder to shoulder, each swaying in rhythm with the chant.
The noise grew and grew as more monks returned to join their brothers on the floor of the temple, until only a few of the novices were left standing.
The Abbot got to his feet then, signalling to the trumpeter to sound the note again. It blasted out across the temple before wavering into silence. All eyes turned towards him.
‘Brothers, this is Geltang,’ he said, gesturing to the seated gathering. ‘Compassion is our guiding principle. Not violence.’
Gently raising Babu to his feet, he led him to the throne set on the dais. Clambering on to it, he looked tiny in the wide seat of ornately carved stone.
‘This is our new leader,’ the Abbot announced, turning to face the crowd once again. ‘We recognise His Holiness Babugedhun Choekyi Nyima, eleventh Panchen Lama and rightful leader of Tibet.’
A wave of bowing swept through those already seated, while the remaining novices by the temple doors quickly shuffled on to the floor. The Abbot looked at Babu who sat with his hands outstretched, just managing to balance them on the huge armrests of the throne.
‘It is for you to decide, Your Holiness. The Chinese approach. Do we evacuate the monastery?’
Rega swung round towards the throne.
‘He is but a boy,’ he said in disgust. ‘How can he decide?’
‘Silence!’ the Abbot declared, raising a finger. ‘You have no place here any more.’
Rega’s cheeks flushed with anger and he went to protest, raising the Dharmachakra above his head, but the Abbot turned towards the sea of monks before them.
‘Silence as His Holiness speaks!’ he shouted. The noise in the temple dropped to nothing as each monk stared expectantly at Babu.
‘We must leave,’ he said, his voice soft and high-pitched. ‘We must go as pilgrims to find sanctuary in the mountains. As your ancestors once did, and made Geltang.’
The Abbot nodded before turning back to the monks.
‘Take the treasure of Geltang and only what you need to survive,’ he ordered. Then, signalling for the temple doors to be opened wide, he stepped down from the dais. In a flurry of robes, every monk in the order got to his feet.
‘Now, my brothers, we must hurry.’
Chapter 56
The soldier stood just below the ridge, the sights of his rifle centred on Luca’s chest.
‘Don’t shoot!’ Luca shouted, slowly raising his hands above his head. He’d taken a step towards the edge of the gulley when there was a muffled boom and a spray of loose snow shot towards him in a long, sweeping arc. As Luca threw himself back on to the ground, the soldier’s finger instinctively squeezed around the trigger.
There was a thunderous crack and a flame leaped from the end of the rifle. The bullet smacked into the snow just behind Luca, missing him by inches. The soldier was hugging the stock tighter into his shoulder, quickly taking aim once again, when a crack split the deep snow in front of him. It splintered into further cracks as the towering mass of the snow cornice jolted downwards, sending pressure waves fanning out across the entire width of the gulley.
The soldier rocked backwards, trying to steady his balance. The muzzle of his rifle dipped as the snow all around him started to move. The entire base of the cornice bulged outwards, collapsing under its own weight, and began tumbling down the face of the gulley. Its momentum wrenched snow from the farthest corners of the slope, dragging it down in a series of smaller slides.
The soldier flung himself forwards, his arms outstretched, desperately clawing against the streaming snow. Luca lunged towards him, trying to grab one of his hands, but the avalanche was now rolling downwards with an unstoppable force, and the soldier was swept from his grasp.
With a long rumbling boom, the wave of snow picked up everything in its path, tumbling down with terrifying speed. The snow was wet and heavy, melded together in vast chunks that spun ahead of the main flow like rubble. They bounced past the remaining soldiers, stretched out in single file along the length of the gulley.
As one, the soldiers looked up at the wall of snow crashing down towards them. Some simply stared in bewildered horror while others attempted to turn and run. With frightening ease the avalanche engulfed them all, their bodies disappearing from view within a couple of seconds.
Zhu stared up the gulley, his face frozen with fear. Like Chen, he had heard the sound of the rifle shot and now stood with his binoculars trained, trying to see whether the Westerner had actually been hit. Then they heard the boom of the avalanche starting and watched in horror as the snow began to crash down towards them.
Zhu stood transfixed by the sight. The sheer scale of it was unbelievable, the noise deafening. Suddenly he felt himself being pulled by the arm.
‘Follow me!’ Chen shouted, yanking him forward with such force that Zhu fought to stay on his feet. Together, they struggled back towards the protection of the Kooms, Chen using his massive body to plough his way through the deep snow and pulling the captain behind him with savage jerks of his arm.
The noise was all around them now
as the first tumbling balls of snow ricocheted past them, smacking into the rocks ahead. The massive stone that stood at the entrance to the Kooms was only a few feet from them now. Just a few more paces and they would be there.
Chen pulled Zhu forward again, forcing him round the back of a boulder just as the main flow of the avalanche swept across them. They were ripped apart as snow surged over the top of the rock and around its sides, picking them both up in its flow. The sudden speed was incredible, the snow packing in around them in a moving torrent, knocking the wind from their bodies with brutal force.
Chen could feel himself being hurled forward. There was light, then a sudden blackness, and then all he could feel was the weight of snow packed in around him, in his mouth, ears and nose, choking all the breath from his body. Something smashed into the front of his face and his vision went black.
Eight hundred metres higher up, Luca watched in disbelief as the first columns of the Kooms were knocked down by the force of the avalanche, twisting round in the direction of its flow like pebbles. But as the snow swept further into the maze of rocks it began to slow, losing power and dispersing into long tentacles. Eventually the last of the avalanche ground to a halt and the mass of snow finally lay still.
An extraordinary silence filled the mountainside.
Luca took in the scene of desolation below him, his mouth hanging open in shock. It was as if the mountain had been scalped. Patches of bare rock were visible in streaks across the face of the gulley. Lower down, at the beginning of the Kooms, the snow lay metres deep. Odd shards of rock managed to pierce through the surface, jutting out at crooked angles, while the remainder lay lost under the vast blanket of snow.
Luca slowly clambered to his feet. He stood alone at the head of the gulley, utterly shocked by the sheer power of the avalanche he had unleashed. He had started it deliberately, with the intention of stopping the soldiers from climbing the gulley, but he had never believed it would kill every living thing in its path. He had never imagined such a reckoning.
He had killed them all. Just like that.
A wave of exhaustion spread through him and his whole body sagged. Every bruise and graze seemed to ache at once as the adrenaline he had been feeding off for so long finally ebbed from his veins and he sank down to his knees. His eyes gravitated to where the Chinese had pitched their camp. It was at the lowest point of the slope where the snow would now be deepest.
At least Bill’s body would stay buried. He would remain here, entombed by the mountains he loved, forever shrouded in their frozen snow.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Luca whispered, as tears ran down his cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry I ever got you into this.’
An entire hour passed before he finally turned away from the desolate graveyard and back towards the path and the monastery of Geltang.
Zhu blinked, trying to see in the darkness.
Snow was packed over his face and eyelids, clogging his mouth and throat. His breath came in shallow, wheezing gasps, and the snow in his mouth was making him retch. He twisted his body, trying to break free, then screamed as the movement sent spikes of pain shooting up from his broken ribs.
He didn’t feel cold yet. That would come later. His clothes were pasted to his limbs and the layer of snow around his body was slowly beginning to melt from his body heat, drawing the warmth away from his core. His hands were shaking, gloves ripped off by the avalanche and the nail-less fingers of his right hand clawed at the freezing snow, trying to dig himself free.
Jerking forward again, he felt his right leg kick clear of the snow and into the air. He cried out in pain as his ribs flexed from the movement, then, gritting his teeth, tried to force the other leg free. Using every ounce of strength in his thigh, he pulled his knee upwards in desperate jerks but his leg remained locked in position. He tried again, the pain threatening to overwhelm him, before his neck muscles finally relaxed in exhaustion, dropping his head deeper into the snow.
For a moment Zhu’s whole body went limp; the fight was just too much, the snow’s grip too strong. His eyes were wide, staring blindly into the darkness of the snow as a wave of claustrophobia washed over him. He contemplated nothingness; impassive, black nothingness. Death was close.
Zhu screamed, twisting his whole body round and jerking manically against the imprisoning snow. Madness rose in him, overriding the pain and exhaustion, and he lashed out in all directions, flailing with his limbs. He felt a sudden movement around the ankle and then his other foot broke through the crust of snow. He fought harder, releasing his knee, then the top half of his thigh.
A surge of elation flowed through him. He twisted again and again, pushing out with his hips and punching his arms. Eventually he broke free, raising his hands to his face to paw away the last of the snow. He could breathe; the weight was finally off him.
It took Zhu nearly half an hour to summon the strength to get to his feet. Even then, as his body shook from cold, he realised how lucky he had been to be spat to the top of the avalanche. Only a foot below the surface and yet it had been almost impossible for him to break free.
Now he had to keep moving, to fight off the paralysing cold. The sweat on his lower back had begun to freeze against his body and, without hat or gloves, he could feel the heat draining from him. It wouldn’t be long before the cold would overtake him completely.
Zhu looked up and saw the towering rocks ahead of him. He would have to follow their route from here to make it back to the cliff-face.
He stood for a moment longer, his body rigid and aching, listening to the silence of the mountain. Then, from somewhere to his right, he heard the sound of groaning. Crunching his way across the pitted surface of the avalanche, he followed the sound, clutching his hand to his ribs as he walked. The snow was like rubble underfoot, stacked high against the rocks.
As he came closer, he could see the top half of a body slumped forward, head lolling to one side. A soldier was wedged against a low slab of rock, with only his top half exposed. Zhu took another step closer and pulled back the mop of hair. It was Chen. His eyes were half-closed and blood streamed out of his nose in two frozen lines. His jaw was slack and his chest heaved from the effort of breathing.
‘I can’t feel my legs,’ he groaned, trying to focus his eyes on the figure before him. Zhu looked down and saw that his whole pelvis had shifted unnaturally to one side. The avalanche had nearly broken him in two.
Zhu’s eyes ran over the shattered body. He could see something in Chen’s right hand, a line of photographs that he had pulled from the top pocket of his jacket.
Reaching down, Zhu grabbed on to the sleeve of his jacket with both hands and tugged as hard as he could. Chen felt his body yanked forward, his chin dipping against his chest as Zhu pulled harder and harder.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, his eyes finally focusing on the top half of Zhu’s head. ‘I can make it. I can make it back.’
His hands closed round the pictures in his hands and he shut his eyes. Zhu pulled once again and the sleeve of Chen’s jacket slipped from his arm. Zhu twisted it round, peeling it off his massive back and down across the other arm.
As the jacket came free, Zhu staggered back a pace. He swung the warm coat over his own shoulders.
Chen’s eyes stared down at the military-issue shirt stretched over his chest. He could see thin traces of his body heat escaping into the icy air.
‘You can’t…’ he breathed, his voice barely more than a murmur. ‘You can’t… do this.’
Zhu didn’t answer, but finished buttoning up the jacket. Without a word to Chen he turned away, working his way over the snow towards the exposed part of the Kooms. Chen watched him slowly start to clamber his way through, then, in the silence that followed, a broken laugh escaped his lips.
‘Scared of heights,’ he wheezed. ‘You’ll never get down the cliff-face.’
He inhaled, mustering the last of his strength.
‘You deserve to die out here!’ he shouted. ‘Just die!’
His head slumped forward against his chest and as the blackness began to well across his vision, he spoke once again.
‘We all deserve to die…’ With one final wheeze, the last breath escaped his body and Chen finally fell still.
Zhu staggered forward, clutching his ribs. As he came down off the last of the avalanche, he turned from side to side, searching for the flares. A few yards ahead of him a dull red glow emanated from a rock. The flame had eaten through almost the entire length of the stick. It had been nearly six hours since they had come this way.
Lurching forward, Zhu searched for the next flare, sweat beading his ashen face. Words came from his mouth in an unintelligible stream, his mind closed off from the world around him.
For hours he continued clambering; the endless rocks, the dull red flares. He pulled his aching body over the next slab of rock, then the next.
Eventually he crawled under an overhanging slab and out into the open bowl of the glacier. He wheeled round towards the gulley behind, raising his arms wide.
‘You can’t hide forever,’ he screamed in English. ‘I will return with hundreds of men and find you. Do you hear me?’
His face creased with pain as he called out to the mountain: ‘And when I return, I will kill every breathing thing!’
Chapter 57
Dorje raised the ornate china teapot a few inches higher and green tea cascaded into the delicate bowls below. Luca sat opposite him on the prayer mat.
Raised on a low platform at one end of it, the Abbot sat facing them both with his legs folded beneath him. He inhaled the aroma of the tea wafting across the room before his eyes settled on Luca.
They sat in a circular room with a lofty, domed ceiling, like a bell tower. Light poured in from every direction through the narrow windows that had been carved into the walls at regular intervals. They were in the highest point of the entire monastery, but as Luca had climbed the last of the twisting stairs he had settled down on the floor without so much as a glance at the glorious panorama of mountains outside.
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