Whiteout II-15 (The Death Zone)

15. The Death Zone

     The air was what woke Nick. He felt as though he were gasping for it. As he opened his eyes, the sting of cold, and the warmth of his sleeping bag made him want to shut them again. Outside was dark, but he could hear the sounds of the team preparing for the ascent.

     Lopsang gently shook him. “It’s time, gear up my friend.”

     “Five more minutes,” whined Nick as he pulled himself slowly into a sitting position. Thankfully the world did not waver as it had before, and he actually felt as though he had rested. He guessed the oxygen mask that had been removed somewhere in the night had played a part.

     “We leave in fifteen,” said Lopsang, and exited the tent, letting a frigid blast of mountain air in behind him.

     Five minutes later, Nick was standing in the pitch darkness of early morning, looking through the tunnel of his headlamp over the edge of the Vikram Wall. Somewhere above them was the summit of the mountain, but in the low light, he could not see it. Sufficiently scared, and freezing, Nick began to unpack what passed as climbing gear on a monster hunting expedition.

     He always carried a slew of weaponry with him, but attacking the yeti was a different type of challenge. The bags had been unmercifully heavy on the way up, but they would come in handy now that they were close. Nick reached into his bag and pulled out the three bottles of slow moving liquid they had obtained at the black market.

     James crawled out of the tent, and walked over groggily toward him. “What’s the plan boss?” It came out quiet, and raspy, as each breath was taking him great effort.

     Lopsang walked over to join them as well.

     “Our best bet, is to pierce its hide with something high powered and sharp.” Nick pulled out what appeared to be a great bundle of metal rods, sheets, and cords from the bag.

     “What are those?” asked Lopsang.

     Nick smiled, flung his arm out to one side, and watched the Sherpa’s wondrous look as the collapsible crossbow assembled itself. In less than five seconds his hand was wrapped around the middle of a sturdy, fully automatic crossbow, complete with hollow bolts. “Highly illegal, but you have to admire the ingenuity,” he said, expanding the other pieces of scrap metal in the bag with wondrous speed.

     When he was finished, there were two crossbows neatly laid out on the snow. “These are for you,” said Nick, handing the crossbows to James and Lopsang. Nick took the harpoon gun and slung it over his shoulder. It carried less ammunition, but it forced him to be patient with his shots.

     “You sure that’s going to be enough?” asked Lopsang, pointing to the harpoon gun.

     “Oh this?” Nick hefted the weapon and pointed it up the mountain. “This little beauty got me out of a scrape with a couple of cannibalistic mermaids that were after my heart.” God, I hate underwater jobs. Even the mountain is better than that. “Only needed three shots, got two of them in the chest, one in the leg,”

     “And left the rest of them for the sharks,” said James, dryly, finishing Nick’s sentence. “It’s best not to ask Lopsang, that story’s been told in one too many bars.”

     “If we ever end up in one of the Atlantean cities, remind me to feed you to the Minotaur.”

     “If we ever end up in Atlantis, I’ll buy you a bottle of that scotch you’re always eyeing,” said James sarcastically.

     Challenge accepted, thought Nick. “Alright, Lopsang, a fair bet?”

     Lopsang shrugged, “Sure. Now, what about the poison?”

     “Ah yes, of course,” said Nick, and pulled out a small syringe. Carefully, he used it to pull some of the liquid from the vials, and then injected it into a small chamber within the harpoon. “All of your bolts have a small, hollow chamber, just below the tip. Load them with the poison, or you’re just going to be wasting ammo.”

     The two of them followed suit. Lopsang then unpacked their climbing gear and helped them into it. By the time they were done, Nick felt a bit like an astronaut, strapped inside of a large suit to protect him from the harsh world outside. The final touch was an oxygen tank to assist with the thinning air on their ascent. They wouldn’t turn it on until midway through the day’s climb, but Nick still felt one tank was too little. He walked over to Manchester’s group who had been preparing as well, and gave the thumbs up.

     “Glad to see you managed to wake up,” said Manchester, muffled by his mask. “Would have been a shame to take all the glory without you.”

     Nick changed his thumbs up to a middle finger, and turned around to rejoin Lopsang and James. The altitude was making him angry, and he was ready to be done with his partnership with Manchester. There was also the fact that something felt off about the morning. All their gear was prepped, and everything had gone according to plan, but somewhere in his numbed brain, was fear. Nick strapped on a pair of orange tinted goggles and adjusted his head lamp. No sense in delaying now, we’re almost there.

     The last obstacle that stood in their way before reaching the altitude of the creature’s signal was a technical ridge, covered in blue ice, followed by a short trek off the map. The ridge was steep, but not as bad as the other terrain they had crossed. The real issue, aside from the air above the Vikram wall being extremely thin, was the section of their journey that was to be “off the map”. There was a reason climbers had used one route when ascending the mountain, and Nick was not keen on seeing what lay on the others.

     With ragged breath and aching limbs, they slowly began to move up the mountain at a crawling pace. The ice beneath their feet made a constant crunching noise, punctuating the silence. There was no wind, and the sky was clear. Above them, a sea of dazzling colored stars moved slowly in early morning sky. As they moved further up the mountain, Nick noticed a set of large imprints running parallel to the trail. He was tethered to the men in front of him, and could not stop to get a better look.

     “James, look at these,” he said, pointing to the tracks. “Think it’s our guy?” His voice was muffled, and the stupid grin he made was blocked by the gear that covered his face.

     “Unless there’s another mythical creature up here, I’d bet on it,” said James, no room for sarcasm between panting breaths.

     They made it to the top of the ridge without incident, just as the sun had begun to poke out over the valley below. When everyone had made it to the top, they prepared to do something no one had ever done.

     “Are you sure that’s where it is?” asked Manchester, curtly, pointing away from the main climbing trail.

     Nick pulled out the tracker to be sure. There was no point in engaging in a suicide mission if their prey wasn’t even there. The green light winked on and off, indicating that the creature hadn’t moved. Why hasn’t it moved? he thought, growing nervous. “It’s there alright.”

     Lopsang looked at the tracker and stepped forward. “No one ever goes off the trail on the mountain, and for good reason,” he said with certainty and confidence. “You will let me set the ropes and pick the routes, or you will die.” There was no animosity to it, just cold, hard, facts.

     Manchester chewed the thought over for a minute, and then replied: “It’s probably for the best. Go ahead then, we don’t have all day.”

Ahead of them, the path sloped up a narrow ridge, leading to the mountain summit. It was likely no more than a few hours away for an experienced climber. Just beyond where they stood was the Rainbow Trail, an area Nick had no intention of entering. I’ve had enough encounters with the undead for one expedition, he thought, and shivered.

The path that they had to take wasn’t really a path at all. Around the back of the mountain face was uncharted territory. If the yeti did it, so can we. When planning the journey to the creature’s layer, Nick and Lopsang had operated on a simple principle: The yeti couldn’t climb straight up, meaning that there was likely a way to follow it. Facing the unmarked trail, Nick could not help but feel nervous about their assumption.

“Everyone switch on your O2,” commanded Manchester, as Lopsang began to scout the path for them. They had been saving the precious oxygen for when they really needed it, and the time had finally come.

Nick turned the knob that increased the flow of oxygen, and inhaled greedily. It was the first time he had been able to catch a full breath in days. The feeling was electrifying. Almost instantly, his vision began to clear, and the familiar alertness of standard altitude returned. A confidence Nick had not felt since their first night on the mountain possessed him. He followed Lopsang off the trail, and into the unknown.

The lazy path that wound up the summit, was far more difficult than it appeared. The path, if it could even be called a path, that Lopsang had begun down made no such illusions. Immediately after moving off the main trail, the space of walkable land grew narrow, with the mountain face on one the other, a sheer drop to fields of snow and ice below.

“Still think it’s worth it?” Nick called to Manchester, muffled through his mask.

“All truly amazing things are. We are on the edge of history here.”

Edge of a cliff maybe, thought Nick, and fell into line behind Lopsang. Even with the oxygen, each step was still difficult, and was worsened by the fact that they had to be extremely careful. Nick’s body felt like it was made of lead, but he pushed it forward like a doomed solider. The excitement he had felt after putting the oxygen mask on quickly dwindled as it became the norm.

Up ahead of them, Lopsang was humming the same tune he had when they had been climbing the spine.

“What makes you so cheery?” asked Nick.

“Oh nothing,” said Lopsang, flippantly. Once more he seemed to have no fear for himself as he climbed forward. “It’s just, likely no one has seen this side of the mountain before.” He smiled at Nick. “Every step we take, we’re discovering something new.”

This heartened Nick a little as well. He had never felt like much of an explorer, and it was preferable to gun for hire. In the end, they were exploring the unknown to kill the unknown, but until that point, he was content to bask in it. On his back, the harpoon rattled against the mountain, knocking off little flakes of ice. It would dull the blade, but Nick did not dare adjust it when there was so little room for movement. One moment of dull scraping wasn’t going to change their odds.

“Stop!” yelled Lopsang and held up his fist. Nick nearly ran into him, and the line behind him threatened to buckle. A slight tremor ran through the ground beneath them, causing loose bits of ice to dance nervously on the ground. “We’re too high for an avalanche,” said Lopsang, nervously. At the top of the mountain, powder didn’t stick, it merely blew off to lower altitudes.

The rumbling continued as if the very mountain was about to split open. They all waited, holding their breath, trying not to move. After a few seconds more, the rumbling stopped, leaving them in silence. The wind whipped along the edge of the mountain briefly, and died. Nick’s heart beat steady in his chest. Slowly, Nick pulled the tracking device from his jacket pocket, and opened it. The little green dot flashed slowly, but did not move.

One of the mercenaries spoke up. “Can we get moving? I’m freezing my—“ A hunk of ice sprayed down the mountain above them, sweeping him off the side, and leaving no evidence that he had ever been there. They heard nothing other than the cracking and crumbling of the ice as it tumbled down the mountain. The roar of the debris picking up more snow as it went, faded quickly, and left silence in its wake.

Nick gripped the device in terror. The light blinked on, and off, but when it reappeared, it was in a slightly different position. “Oh shit,” he whispered.

“What is it?” asked James.

“It’s moving.”

“What do you mean it’s moving?” yelled Manchester.

“Exactly what I said dipshit, the creature, it’s moving.” Even with his venom, the words ‘it’s moving’ still felt foreign in his mouth. It was broad daylight, and yet, the creature was moving. The soft blinking of the light reminded Nick that danger did not stop just because the situation confused him. They were too far along the edge of the mountain to turn back, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Then we better get moving too!” Yelled James, snapping Nick out of his dream state. “Move your ass now Nick!”

     Lopsang had already started securing ropes on the route ahead, moving as quickly as he could. Adrenaline pumped in Nick’s veins, and he moved as fast as possible while still holding onto the guide rope. He panted and heaved, but continued forward, knowing that the second he stopped, death would come for him. You have to keep moving. If you don’t keep up, everyone behind you is going to die too. He felt lucky that he was close to the front of the line, as it served as a motivator. Otherwise, he might have given into the tired sluggishness he felt, and took a seat to wait for death.

     Rather than beating fast in his chest, Nick’s heart beat slow, and hard. Each beat was a punch from the inside of his chest, trying to break through his rib cage. He could not shake the nagging feeling that no matter what he did, this was going to be the end. A proximity alarm began to blare on the tracker, making Nick speed up even further.

     Suddenly, the thin path before him gave way to a rocky plateau, and he stumbled forth onto it. The tracking device skittered across the ice and quickly over the edge of the mountain, it’s proximity alarm beeping the whole way. Nick stood, like a man in a dream, not entirely sure of where he was, but sure that wherever it was, he was in extreme danger.

     James, Manchester, and his team stumbled onto the plateau after him. For a moment, Nick could not believe it. We’re all alive. As he looked around, he saw that they were standing in a circle of stones, flanked by large boulders, ringing off the edge of the plateau. Manchester stood, just in front of him, wide-eyed.

“What?” Nick asked.

     “The gates are open,” said Manchester, shaking, and pointing a finger behind him.