Yeti Unleashed Read online

  He had been so pleased that his ailing mother had been able to meet her at his father’s funeral. Her parents were at their wedding and again when she received her doctorate. Harry placed her doctoral hood on her shoulders at the ceremony.

  Dixie climbed into bed and turned off the light. But it was a long time before sleep overtook her.

  Chapter 15

  Dr. Miles Radner stood erect in front of a group of reporters and a company of television cameras. He was about to begin the news conference announcing the tragedy at the Primate Research Facility. There was a buzz of conversation among those gathered and, between the sun and the hot television lights, small beads of sweat formed on his brow. They were collected in front of the sign indicating the research property and warning trespassers away. Behind him were parked a number of satellite trucks, and he knew what he was about to say would be beamed worldwide.

  “L--ladies and gentlemen,” Radner began in a halting voice. How could he get them to understand that what had transpired was a tragic accident. The person responsible, dead.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he repeated. The buzz quieted and all eyes focused on him. “I am Dr. Miles Radner, Director of the Primate Research Facility, organized by the Department of Anthropology at California Pacific University. The research facility conducts research in all sorts of primates, research that sheds light in our genetic past as wells aids in the development of new medicines and treatments. Last year, a team from Cal Pacific returned from Mongolia with two earth-shattering living specimens--Yeti. The animals’ return was the subject of much notoriety at the time. The animals, whose existence heretofore was known only through legend, were brought here, to the Primate Research Facility atop Cinder Mountain, where our team of renowned scientists were able to study them. In fact, the Yeti’s entire genetic genome was unraveled during that time.

  “Unfortunately, two days ago a tragedy of epic proportions occurred at the facility.” Radner paused and noticed the reporters scribbling in their notebooks. He swallowed hard. “A tragedy, yes,” he continued. “During the morning hours, a graduate assistant entered one of the Yeti’s cage without the animal being sedated, which was a violation of facility policy. The animal managed to escape, kill the assistant, and release the other Yeti from her cage.

  “A search of the compound was unsuccessful in locating the animals so the search area was extended to include Cinder Mountain. The mountain was thoroughly searched yesterday, and no animals were located. It is our belief that they have managed to roam beyond Cinder Mountain and, in doing so, may be anywhere on the desert plain. We ask the surrounding public to take all due precautions. These animals are extremely dangerous. I can take a few questions now.”

  Questions erupted from the reporters, all of them yelling at once.

  “What do these animals look like?”

  “How dangerous are they?”

  “Which direction were they headed?”

  “Have the surrounding towns been notified?”

  “Who all is involved in the search?”

  “Has the boy’s family been notified?”

  Radner answered each question, trying to remain calm. Finished, he turned the press conference over to Sheriff Calder who brought the reporters up to date on the particulars of the search for the Yeti and answered additional questions.

  When the news conference ended and the reporters filed into their cars and the satellite trucks headed back to Elko, Radner drove back up the mountain to his office. Seated at his desk, he withdrew a sheet of paper from a drawer and began writing his resignation.

  ***

  A brutal morning sun beat down on the Anasazi ruins, causing waves of shimmering heat to undulate upward. Harry lay in the shade provided by the collapsed adobe wall, mouth parched, leg still aching. His tongue felt like sandpaper on the roof of his mouth and the blowing sand had irritated his eyes. Headache, confusion, and listlessness were signs of dehydration, and he knew he needed to find water, but his heart wasn’t in the effort it would require. But another day in the baking sun and he would be a shriveled up piece of jerky. He was angry that the walkie-talkie was on his horse. It would have been a life-saving piece of equipment.

  He pulled himself to his feet and noticed the pain in his leg was less. He could even bear some weight on it. He forced his brain to focus on his surroundings. Surely, he thought, the Indians would have built their village close to water so he began surveying the area. The depression that housed the ruins fell off toward the West ending beneath a high wall of rock that formed a natural barrier to the prevailing west winds.

  The sky was a brilliant blue, the color of lapis lazuli, and the wind light as Harry limped out of the depression and down toward the rock wall. The farther he hobbled, the better his leg felt. Maybe it wasn’t broken after all, he thought. But it was farther away than it looked and, by the time he arrived at the wall, he fell to his knees, lungs burning.

  The wall was about fifty feet high and made of solid granite. As he scoured the wall looking for evidence of water, he noticed the many small holes in the rock--hiding places or homes to small critters, in all likelihood. To the north, the wall gradually approached the plain until, a quarter mile away, it was level with it.

  To the south, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of light, as if something reflected a ray of sunlight. He stared in that direction and couldn’t believe his eyes--a small ribbon of water flowing dark over a bed of smooth stones. Falling to his knees, Harry pulled himself to the water and collapsed, plunging his head into it, savoring its wet coolness. He gulped down a few mouthfuls then splashed the water over his head and face. Refreshed, he sat back and pondered his next move.

  It was unfortunate that he had no container with which he could collect and keep water. He would have to rehydrate before starting back to Cinder Mountain. He spent the better part of an hour drinking and cooling down, hoping that the water was fairly clean. He knew Giardia, the ameba that caused a poisoning with vomiting and high fever, was ubiquitous in Nevada. Hopefully, he would be back at the facility if, and when, he got sick.

  When he was ready to start out, he drenched his shirt in the stream, stood, and started limping south. He knew Cinder Mountain lay in a southerly direction and hoped that soon he would be able to see it in the distance. It was a cloudless day so it should be easy to spot.

  After several miles, pain racked his leg so he sat by a mesquite bush to rest. He thought about Dixie, whether she had mounted a search for him, and where they might be. If she had left at daybreak, they should be close, within seeing distance in the next few hours. But if she wasn’t on the trail by now, it might be closer to evening. He prayed it wouldn’t be that long. What if she hadn’t been able to convince the sheriff or Drayton to look for him? Suppose the authorities were too busy to come looking for a lone man lost in the desert?

  Back on his feet, Harry continued his trek toward Cinder Mountain. The morning was heating up, and he saw nothing on the horizon.

  He stumbled on, focusing his thoughts on placing one foot in front of the other. It took effort, but he was determined to see Dixie again. He knew he could survive several days without food but water was his primary concern if he needed to spend another night on the plain. It was imperative to stay hydrated for the heat was getting intense. Since leaving the stream, he had not seen anything that looked like water in the distance, only rising undulating heat waves. Overhead, a group of hawks circled, rising and swooping in the air currents produced by the sun and heat.

  Were they hawks--or buzzards? Waiting for him to collapse again?

  His let felt better so he decided not to rest but to make as much distance while he was able. He was glad to have found the water earlier. It had given him renewed hope.

  Then, on the horizon, he saw shimmering dark specks.

  Harry’s heart rate quickened.

  Within minutes, the specks were much larger. They looked like animals.

  Horses!

  Th
ere were riders on the horses.

  Harry jumped up and down, waved his arms, screamed at them. As the riders approached a trot, he could see Dixie on a horse behind Sheriff Calder.

  She waved.

  At last, she jumped off her horse and ran into Harry’s arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. He smiled and brushed them away.

  “Gosh, honey, what took you so long?” he said.

  “Oh, Harry,” she said, sniffling, “it’s so good to find you and see you’re alive. Thank god.”

  “I need a shower and shave,” he said. He rubbed his chin with his hand.

  “You’re fine, honey. We brought a spare horse, just in case.”

  “Great, my leg is about worn out. I hurt it when my horse bucked and threw me. You haven’t seen a riderless horse wandering around, have you? He lit out after he bucked me off.”

  “No, Doctor, we haven’t.” Sheriff Calder stepped down from his mount and shook hands with Harry. “Glad to see you. Not too bad for wear, I see.”

  “I’m fine,” Harry said. “Could use some breakfast and some sleep, though.”

  “As soon as we get you back to the facility,” Dixie said. “Ready to go?”

  Harry nodded and ambled to a horse. After pulling himself into the saddle, he grinned. “Better than walking, that’s for sure.”

  On the way back to the primate facility, Dixie peppered her husband with questions about what had happened to him and his night alone.

  Harry told her about finding the Indian ruins, becoming close to delirious from dehydration, and his vivid nightmare. He spoke of his fears that she might have forgotten him. He told her of the Yeti that visited his dreams.

  “See anything that looked like Yeti tracks, Doctor?” Calder said, riding alongside Harry and Dixie.

  “Nothing,” he said. “How about with you?”

  “Nothing new to report,” Calder said. “We’ll widen the search area, of course.”

  They rode on, plodding up Cinder Mountain and arriving at the primate facility around noon.

  Once he was showered and had eaten a large meal, Harry retired to the room in the dormitory where he collapsed on the bed. Dixie sat in a chair across from him.

  “Dr. Radner came to me and we talked for a while, Harry. He wrote out his resignation and intends to give it to you. The little weasel feels guilty and responsible for what has happened.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Harry said. “All I want to do right now is sleep.”

  Dixie crossed the room and kissed him. “Okay. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

  Later, as they were waiting for dinner, Dr. Siscom walked up and smiled at Harry. “Dr. Olson, you’re up and around, that’s good to see. Feeling better?”

  “Yes, thanks, Gerald. The chimps all doing well? I had nearly forgotten that we have other primates still here.”

  “Yes, they’re all present and doing just fine. As is the mouse colony. I hope this affair with the Yeti doesn’t put us in the crosshairs of the animal rights activists. That’s all we would need--have a group of protesters up here on the mountain, raising all kinds of havoc.”

  “You are so right. They are marching around the university at this very moment.”

  “Any word on the Yeti?” Siscom said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Dr. Radner held a press conference earlier this morning down at the property entrance. Quite a gathering of reporters and television crews.”

  “Yes, I heard. Any repercussions from it, Gerald?”

  “None so far. At least none that I am aware of. Drayton said he did a respectable job. Handled the many questions with his usual flair.”

  “Flair, Gerald? The man has no flair,” Harry said. “He’s a condescending snob.”

  “Oh,” Siscom said, eyebrows raised.

  Harry was immediately sorry he had uttered the derogatory remark about Radner. At least to one of Radner’s associates. Dixie poked him in his ribs with an elbow.

  They went into the dining hall and sat with Radner and Millie. Millie looked as if she had been crying. Sitting next to her, Dixie leaned over and inquired if she was okay. She nodded her assent and began eating without another word.

  Table talk was mostly about the escaped Yeti and where they could possibly have gone. Some speculated the heat had already killed them while others thought they might be terrorizing the nearby town of Grant. Siscom allowed that his tranquilizer gun was ready to go. Drayton said Sheriff Calder went home for the night and would return early in the morning. He planned on searching the towns in the area. Millie ate her dinner in silence.

  Later, as they left the dining hall, Radner stopped Harry and pulled him aside. His face looked as if his dinner disagreed with him.

  “Dr. Olson,” he said. “I must speak with you in the morning. It is a matter of utmost importance and urgency.”

  “Fine, Miles. What time?”

  Radner’s frown deepened. “Say nine o’clock? Would that be convenient?”

  “Of course, Miles. Your office?”

  Radner nodded curtly, sauntered off, and disappeared around a corner.

  Chapter 16

  The four men stood in front of the mine entrance, each holding a floodlight. Garby and Terkel had knapsacks hanging from their shoulders while Lowell and Yarak carried small duffle bags. The weather was cool and each man wore a sweater or fleece jacket.

  “Everyone ready?” Lowell said, adjusting a strap on Terkel’s knapsack.

  “I believe we are,” Yarak responded. He grabbed his duffle and headed toward the hole in the side of the gorge. He was followed by Garby and Terkel, with Lowell last in line.

  Inside the mine, the men walked in single file, their floodlights illuminating the path ahead and creating flickering shadows on the granite walls and ceiling. The shaft was cooler than the preceding day and, the deeper into the gorge they ventured, Lowell wondered how the place could be called a desert. Deeper in the mountain, they passed lichens of various colors growing on the rock, oranges, browns, rusts.

  The sounds on the surface faded into nothingness, leaving the group surrounded by the stillness of the shaft--the only sounds their breathing and talking. The floor of the mine was strewn with rocks and trash, bits and pieces of rotting timbers from the beams that supported the shaft and prevented a cave-in.

  Arriving at the Y where the shaft branched, Lowell stopped and shined his floodlight down the left-hand tunnel. Nothing but darkness and rock. Inspecting the right-hand shaft revealed a narrow set of rusty iron rails, tracks used with an ore cart. The cart tracks ran deep into the shaft beyond the reaches of Lowell’s floodlight. He knelt beside a rail, ran a gloved hand over the rusted metal.

  “This looks promising,” Yarak said and started down the tunnel. “There wouldn’t be a cart unless someone hauled ore out,” he called over a shoulder.

  A deep groan pierced the darkness and the mountain shuddered.

  “What was that?” Garby said, shining his light over the ceiling and walls.

  “Just the mountain shifting,” Lowell said. “Happens all the time.”

  “Is it gonna cave?” Terkel said. “I can’t stand the dark as it is.”

  “I doubt it,” was Lowell’s answer. “Plate tectonics, my dear fellow. It’s what caused these mountains and gorges to begin with. It’s still occurring.”

  They ambled on. The thought struck Lowell about how dangerous it was inside these old mines. Every year one or two people died in Nevada’s old, abandoned mines, either from a cave-in or just falling down a deep shaft and becoming trapped. But he tried to put a positive spin on it, telling his men that if they had found the Lost Coyote Creek Mine the danger would be worth it. As he trudged along, Lowell noticed that even though the shaft was braced at regular intervals with thick timbers, most of them were rotted and falling apart. It wouldn’t take much for them to collapse and bring the entire mountain down on them.

  Farther into the side of the mountain, the shaft narrowed, its walls not
much wider than the ore cart tracks. It was downright cold at this level, and Lowell stopped, shined his light around the shaft. It was a strange, eerie place. The mountain creaked and moaned, causing Lowell’s pulse to quicken. He shivered.

  What kind of men were these? he thought. What kind of men risked their lives, carving a hole in the earth? At a time when there was no modern power, no electric lights, no earth moving machines. All for the yellow metal that he and his men were now searching for. It was difficult to get his mind around the super human effort it must have taken to get the rails and heavy ore carts up the almost vertical side of the gorge.

  Back then, it was all packed into this wilderness on the backs of mules and would have taken months to make the slightest progress.

  Deeper, the shaft angled off to their right and broadened, leaving Lowell wondering how much farther it would go. At one point, he stopped, shined his light over the ground.

  “The track ends here,” he said.

  His light illuminated the end of the rail tracks. Beyond, it was pitch black. Dark and foreboding.

  “Can’t go on much farther,” Terkel said, shining his light down the shaft. “If this was the limit of their rail system, the end of the tunnel is probably right down there.”