Siberius (22 page)

Talia ambled up to his side, exhaling into her hands to warm them. Above, the hole in the ceiling revealed waning daylight. “Do they bother you?” she said, looking down at the mummies.

“No,” said Nick. “It just feels like we’re intruding, you know?”

Talia wrapped her arms around his waist. “That’s very respectful,” she said. “And sweet.”

He was glad it was dark; it hid his blushing face. “You said they’re 2,000 years old, right?” he said, changing the subject. “How do you know?”

Talia released him, pointed to the mummy’s attire. “Their ceremonial regalia,” she said. “They’re identical to the clothes found in Scythian tombs, especially Pazyryk, which have been positively identified to be 2,000 years old.” Nick noticed for the first time that the mummy’s antler hats were similar to the ones he saw in Talia’s cabin. “Like the ones my husband was studying.” She looked around the cavern. “It’s a shame we’re in the position we are in. I could spend years in here.”

“We might if we don’t find a way out.” Nick returned to reality, to more practical thoughts. The fire Talia had built was dying, and Nick decided to tackle it first. “Where did you find the wood?” he asked. But Talia, with flaming torch in hand, had gone back to the cave drawings. He made his way over to her.

“
I’m sure this means something,” she said, looking at the long row of suns. They were all too deliberate, too organized, to be random drawings. She thought that they represented a single idea.

“
Look,” said Nick. “I know this is exciting for you, but we need to focus on survival right now.”

She nodded. “Of course.” Nick followed her to the far end of the cavern where a double-tiered stone slab sat with two carved ceremonial wood posts on either side. Piled over the slab itself were dozens of Smilodon tusks of various sizes. Surrounding the entire area, Smilodon bones sat in neat arrangements, their purpose long since forgotten.

“Christ all mighty,” he said, looking at the bones. “No wonder that thing chased us. Look what these cave men did to them.” Nick bent and touched the slab with his fingers.

“
The Cro-Magnons didn’t build this,” she said. “It’s a ceremonial butcher block, part of this particular Scythian tribe’s culture. I think this is where they cleaned and polished the skulls.” She clasped one of the wood posts and began to wiggle it free of the floor. Nick helped her and they soon freed it. In a few minutes, it was burning in the fire.

“We’re using parts of an important archaeological find as fuel,” said Talia, moments later. She warmed herself next to the fire pit.

             
“Yeah, but we’re staying warm.” Nick opened the backpack and pulled out dried musk ox meat. They both munched several chunks right away with some flat bread. “I’m concerned about our provisions.” Nick chewed as he reached into the pack and pulled out a leather sack. “We have two more bags of whatever the hell kind of meat this is. I’d guess five pounds total. There’s even less of this mystery bread .”

             
“I didn’t anticipate what had happened to the Chukchi.” Talia’s voice was low, even somber. “We would have found food in the village.”

             
“I’m not criticizing you, honey. But this stuff will last us only a few more days. After that, we’ll have to try to fish or trap game.”

             
“That won’t be a problem, Nick.” She smiled reassuringly.

             
“Of all the people I could be stuck in Siberia with…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Instead, he glanced up at the high cavern ceiling, then at the increasingly dim room. “You should make a map of this place so you can come back.”

             
“I’ll remember it,” Talia said, chewing.

Nick looked over at the Scythian coffins. They continued to trouble him. “Why are they holding saber-tooth skulls?” he said, pointing at the coffins.

“Trophies, I’m sure. Those must be the skulls of the animals they killed. Can you imagine what it would take to battle one?”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Those guys’d be heroes all over town,” he said.

“Undoubtedly,” Talia said, then took another bite. “Seven hundred years ago, Genghis Khan conquered Siberia. I wonder if
he
ever ran into the Smilodons.”

Nick’s eyebrows went up. “It’d be a hell of a battle.”

26

              Parnichev opened his eyes to a smear of gray and black clouds. They drifted along the sky at great speed, despite the fact that there was no perceptible wind. He tried to turn his head to the side, to see where he was. He couldn’t do it. He tried to lift his arm, but found that impossible too. It was as if someone was holding him down. Then, he remembered falling out of the truck. There was an instant of pain when his head hit the snow, but he had blacked out. Panic started to creep in as he remembered the sharp twinge in his neck, and he wondered if the fall had broken it. Again, he tried to move his arms, his legs, anything. And again, it felt as if ropes spanning his entire body tied him down. Flat on his back, Parnichev called out.

“
Help,” he said in a feeble voice. All at once, the clouds above slowed, then stopped, and Parnichev realized that it wasn’t the sky that was moving, it was
him
. “Hello?” he said in a dry, strained voice. He rolled his eyes left then right, hoping to see just who was pulling him along. Another soldier perhaps?

Instead, he found himself face to face with a fanged white devil.

Parnichev’s throat tightened and he tried to scream, but what came out was more of a strained cough. He shut his eyes, and in his mind, convinced himself he was hallucinating. But when he opened them again, it became clear that he
wasn’t
hallucinating. No, he was awake, lucid and terrified. Had he not pissed earlier, he would have pissed his pants now.

             
The Smilodon’s nose came within inches of Parnichev’s face, its nostril’s flaring as it sniffed him. The young soldier began to hyperventilate, choking back terror that probably gripped every inch of his body, although he’d never know because he couldn’t feel it. He could, however, smell the beast’s pungent breath and he wished at that moment his sense of smell was paralyzed, too. Dripping foamy saliva from its parted maw, the cat’s hot tongue rolled along the soldier’s cheek, scraping the skin with its sandpaper-like surface. He yelped and tried to move his head away, but it was impossible, and so he closed his eyes and let the monster bathe him.

             
When his eyes opened, the monster was gone, but the sky was moving again. Parnichev realized that it was dragging him through the snow, but to where he didn’t know. He didn’t think he wanted to know, either, for there were two things that struck him at that moment. The first was that the convoy had no idea he had fallen out of the truck bed, which meant they wouldn’t be looking for him. The second was that he was sure the animal now dragging him was some kind of lion or tiger.

And as much as he didn’t want to think about it, Parnichev knew that lions and tigers ate meat.

27

              Nick awoke to enveloping blackness. The hole in the ceiling revealed no light, and the fire had gone out, leaving scattered glowing embers. Night had fallen without him even knowing it.

             
Even after several minutes of adjustment, he still saw black. He felt very cold, but it had little to do with the weather outside. His heart pounded heavily. He strained to see, but there was nothing to focus on. His hand met the cavern floor; he recoiled from the cold stone, sighed at his own nervous fear, and then gathered his wits. He felt around and found the warm, covered body of sleeping Talia. It was at once calming.

Nick sat up next to the dead fire pit and watched as one by one, the embers faded to black. Except for the echoing drip from stalactites, there were no other sounds. He thought about Talia, about the past few days. A strange sort of tranquility came over him. He was hundreds of miles away from the rendezvous point in Bratsk. He had been stalked and attacked by an animal he could barely comprehend. Food was dwindling.

              Yet, he was calm.

             
The last place Nick Somerset thought he’d fall for a woman was Siberia. He lay back down and pressed against Talia for warmth. Come morning, they would find a way out of the cavern and head south. Bratsk and Pulskovar’s farm was still his ultimate destination, but he didn’t know if Talia wanted to go that far. The thought of not being with her made him anxious now. He’d ask her what she wanted to do in the morning. As the tension in his neck and shoulders eased up, he wondered what the future held for them both. Before drifting off to sleep, he imagined sitting in Municipal Stadium, eating a hotdog and watching a Cleveland Indian’s game.

With Talia.

              Nick didn’t get the chance to sleep as a growl reverberated through the cavern. His eyes shot back open, but he still saw nothing. The growl came once more, louder and more deliberate this time, and Nick felt pressure on his right leg. His heart pounding, he clenched his eyes and waited. The pressure eased, followed by a delicate stroking.

Talia was awake and signaling him, and very aware that somehow in the blackness, the Smilodon had found them.

Nick returned her caress with a reassuring squeeze on her arm and he wished at once that he could see her. That he could see
anything
. Talia sat up and Nick found her and held her, and she returned his embrace. Her body trembled in his arms.

A mighty sustained roar shook the cavern, and within the stone walls the noise was deafening. They ducked their heads, clenched their eyes tight as the rot of the big mammal’s breath breezed past them. Its roar trailed off, but their ears still rang and Talia clung tighter to Nick with every ounce of strength she had. She knew the cat could find them, knew that even in the pitch black of the tunnel, its keen hearing could pinpoint their exact location. They sat helpless, without fire, weapons or even the notion as to where to run.

Talia wished they had made love. She hadn’t been with a man since Leonid had disappeared. She cursed herself for not being more forthcoming about her desires, but she was tired. Actually, she was afraid. It had been a long time since she even touched a man, had a man’s hands on her, felt a man’s naked body pressed against her own. Her fears sounded pathetic now. Talia wondered if their deaths would be quick, wondered in fact, which of them would be the first to die. She was grateful that it
was
so dark; the thought of seeing Nick die in it jaws was too horrible.

Another roar filled the darkness. Nick wanted to cover his ears, but he couldn’t tear himself away from Talia. Was it able to kill with its roar alone? His heart had never beat faster and he feared it was going to explode in his chest. Even during the war, on the front lines, he’d never felt such helplessness.

This is it
, he thought.
God, let it be quick, please
. He couldn’t believe they were going to die after everything they had been through. He couldn’t believe how fortunate he was to have met Talia. The short time they spent together was fulfilling in so many ways and, dare he think it, even loving.
Loving
.

“
Nick, oh God,” she whispered.

“
Just hold on to me, sweetheart. Just hold on.”

“
Nick, I…”

A sudden wave of Smilodon urine drifted into their nostrils, and it was all they could do to keep it from burning their throats. They quelled gagging, as if the sound would matter.

It roared again.

They awaited the first horrific bite.

              It didn’t come.

The beast hissed and grunted and shuffled back and forth in the darkness. Another, less intense roar came. It was higher pitched and screechy, and Talia thought for a moment that she sensed frustration in its voice.

The sudden heavy thump of padded feet trailed off, and they realized the cat had turned and left the cavern.

Sunlight beamed down through the hole in the ceiling. Nick went to a pool of water beneath one of the longer stalactites and filled the canteen. Either too frightened or too exhausted, they had fallen back asleep without a word. Upon waking, the most they could do was look at each other and say “Good morning,” for it indeed was a good morning. A magnificent morning. A
miraculous
morning.

Talia rolled up the blanket and stuffed it back into the pack. She broke the silence and said, “We should be dead, you know.”