The Black Devil's Cave, page 21
“And you think that they’ve left a message for you? Written in English on that huge phallus-shaped stalagmite?”
“I’m not going to dignify your question with a response,” Jenny frowned. “I think we’re here.”
They entered a vast subterranean chamber, large enough to fit a nine-story building. Although only partially lighted, the place was still impressive, with magnificent limestone formations in various colors and shapes. It was easy to imagine that this enormous cavern seemed magical to the ancient people.
The women carefully inspected the cavern, impressed with its beauty yet disappointed that it failed to provide them with clues.
“What now?” Sonia finally asked.
“I guess we have to go back and come up with a Plan B,” Jenny responded, trying to sound optimistic.
They turned their lights toward the exit and froze. In the murky depth of a grotto, partially illuminated by their flashlights, they saw a disheveled old man wearing a furry hat with horns. The creature was staring at them with penetrating, blue eyes.
Chapter 42
“Good morning, Sergei Maksimovich. Your doctors tell me that you’re on the road to full recovery. I’m truly delighted to hear it. Are you able to answer some questions?” Ivanov produced what was intended to be a compassionate smile.
Sergei turned in his hospital bed and moaned—moving his battered body was not a good idea. At least not yet. He was lucky to be alive.
Sergei wasn’t surprised to see the agent—he expected that sooner or later, someone from the FSB would come to interrogate him. At least, they no longer used the methods of persuasion employed by their predecessor, the KGB.
“Go ahead, let’s be done with it. Although I really don’t know that much.” Sergei tried to sound sincere.
“C’mon, Sergei Maksimovich, don’t be shy. You must know something. Or did you drive the Americans across our vast Eastern frontier just for fun?” Ivanov raised a brow.
“They only tried to return the kid to his parents and hired me because they needed a guide.”
“And who are the kid’s parents?”
“That’s the thing—nobody knows. All they’ve managed to do so far is find out that the kid’s come from Siberia. Probably.”
Ivanov shook his head in disbelief. “And your plan was to do what? Drive to every village and settlement and ask if anyone knows the boy? That would be a lot of driving.”
“I really don’t know. But yes, the American women have been asking around.”
“Why were you attacked? And who were the people who did it to you?” Ivanov asked.
“They were…. Americans.”
“I know that much, Sergei Maksimovich. Hired by an American pharmaceutical giant, PharGen. But why are they so interested in this child?”
“I don’t know.” Sergei moaned again. “You have to ask the women who’ve hired me.”
“I think you’re not entirely honest with me, and you know much more than you let on. You’re insulting my intelligence, Sergei Maksimovich, and I don’t particularly enjoy being insulted. “ Ivanov was still polite, but it was evident that his frustration was growing. “Let’s try something else. I’ll do the talking, and you will just confirm or deny. How’s that?”
Sergei nodded.
“The boy, whose name we don’t know, was abducted by your female friends from a research facility in the United States.”
“They’re not my friends. I’m only their guide,” Sergei interrupted.
“All right, let’s have it your way. The women, who are NOT your friends, decided to bring the boy to Russia and ask hundred and forty million who live in our beautiful country if anyone knows him. They did it because they thought it would be easier than contacting the Russian consulate in California and telling them to take care of it.”
“How am I supposed to know what they thought? I was just….”
“I know, I know. You were just their guide. Why would a pharmaceutical company send people to attack you and kidnap the boy?”
“Did you find him? Is he safe?” Sergei raised his head, forgetting about the pain.
“No, we haven’t found him. But I’m the one asking questions, Sergei Maksimovich. Why don’t you tell me something I don’t already know? Let’s try it again—why is that company so interested in the boy?”
“There is something genetic about the boy, but I swear I don’t know the details. All I know is that those people may want to hurt him. Are you looking for them?”
Ivanov ignored Sergei’s question. “And how is our organized crime involved?” he asked.
“They’re not involved at all! Tatiana has visited here because she’s my big sister. You know, Tatiana Drozdov. She’s married to….”
“I know whom she’s married to,” Ivanov interrupted.
He heard his phone buzzing and checked the number. It was one of the agents from the local office of FSB.
“I’ll let you rest, Sergei Maksimovich, but I’ll be back. I hope next time we meet; you’ll be more forthcoming.”
Ivanov left the room and dialed the number.
“Ivanov here. What have you got?”
“We’ve found your Americans,” said the voice on the phone. “Or, at least, what’s left of them. I’m sending the pictures.”
“Yes, it’s them all right,” Ivanov confirmed after he looked at the gruesome photos. “Holy shit, what happened to them?”
“Executed, point-blank. Looks like a hit ordered by organized crime. The victims were roughed up pretty bad before they were shot. Looks like somebody wanted information,” the FSB agent said.
“What about the woman?” Ivanov asked.
“A woman? There was no woman there. We only found three bodies, all men.”
“Hmmm…. Maybe Drozdov took her, together with the kid. I presume you haven’t found the child?”
“No, as I’ve said, only those men.”
“Where did you find the bodies?” Ivanov asked.
“In Krasnoyarsk. They were dumped in an abandoned factory. Some locals decided to pick that location to get drunk and stumbled upon the bodies.”
“For once, we’ve benefited from our national pastime,” Ivanov mumbled.
“What’s that?” the agent asked.
“Nothing. Please, arrange a plane for me. I’ll leave for Krasnoyarsk immediately. And tell them to leave the crime scene intact until I get there. Oh, and keep looking for the woman and the kid! Use whatever resources we have over there. If Drozdov has them, I want to know.”
Ivanov quickly walked out of the hospital building.
Chapter 43
Aab dropped to her knees and lovingly cuddled Naneyu’s head in her hands. Overwhelmed with emotions, she couldn’t hold back tears. But those were good tears—tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of enormous gratitude to the Great Mother, Uda Yurra, and all the good spirits that brought her child back to her.
In the past weeks, there were times when she didn’t believe she would ever see him again. At least not in this life. She thought he would perish in that strange world outside, or her strengths would leave her, and she would not survive the journey.
Naneyu put his small arms around his mother’s neck and covered her face with kisses. Then, he gently wiped her tears.
“Let’s go,” Aab finally said, getting up from her knees. “We are not safe yet. The Great Mother’s send people to meet us, but I don’t know where they are.”
“They’re almost here. I can feel them.” Naneyu turned toward Lisa. She laid on the ground, unconscious, but fast, shallow movements of her chest indicated that she was still breathing. “What about her?” he asked.
“What happened?”
“I think she ate the Demon’s Spew,” Naneyu explained, using his people’s name for the toxic mushroom. “She’s dying.”
“Then let her die.” Aab gently pulled her son’s hand. “She did terrible things to you. The Great Mother sent me the images.”
“She’s also the one who helped me escape. We can’t just leave her here to die.”
“But we don’t have a choice,” Aab insisted. “You know we mustn’t take her with us. It’s our most sacred law.”
“Let me at least help with her sickness. I won’t let her suffer like this.”
Not waiting for the response, Naneyu bent over Lisa, put one hand on her stomach and the other one on her forehead. He closed his eyes. At first, Aab wanted to pull him away from the dying woman but hesitated and stepped back. She couldn’t deny her son’s right to be compassionate and forgiving. So, Aab just watched in reverence as Naneyu used his incredible healing power. The woman would probably perish in the forest anyway, and even if she would somehow find her way out, she didn’t know the location of their settlement.
Lisa opened her eyes, the haze slowly lifting. The pain was gone, but she remembered being very sick. She was still disoriented, yet Lisa could swear she saw the boy walking away and holding hands with a tall woman. Then, she saw several individuals emerging from the woods and greeting the woman and the boy. They looked different, not like creatures from another planet, but still odd. There were maybe ten of them, both men and women. They were all exceptionally tall. They had long faces, slightly sloping foreheads, exceptionally big eyes, and wide jawbones. She noticed their recessed chins and somewhat flattened noses. Their skin was darker than Lisa’s—not as dark as you usually see among people from Africa, yet dark enough to create a sharp contrast with their reddish-blond hair. They all looked like older versions of the boy.
Lisa tried to call on them, but she was too weak, and her voice came out only as a sharp whisper. She watched the group disappear into the trees.
***
At precisely the exact moment, although more than a thousand miles to the west, Drozdov put the cell phone back into his pocket. Good news, for a change. His brother-in-law, Sergei, was doing better and expected to recover. It should make Tatiana happy.
After years of marriage, he still cared about Tatiana, maybe even too much. From time to time, she’d drive him crazy, and Drozdov could see wrinkles underneath her carefully applied makeup. However, she was still his Tatiana, the most beautiful woman he’d ever met and the only one who managed to sweep him off his feet. Yes, there were other women—he lost count of his one-night stands—but they meant nothing. Tatiana was the one, and if anything happened to her little brother, he would never forgive himself.
He heard gentle knocking, and Nikolai, his right-hand man, stepped inside.
“Pavel Alekseyevich? There is someone here to see you,” he said.
“And you let him in after I’d specifically told you I wanted to be left alone,” Drozdov snarled. It wasn’t like Nikolai to disobey his orders.
“I’m afraid it couldn’t be helped. I think he’s a cop. Possibly FSB.”
“All right then. Let him in.”
Before Nikolai could respond, the door opened wider, and Anatoly Ivanov stepped into Drozdov’s spacious office.
“Mr. Ivanov, what a surprise!” Drozdov got off his chair. “Am I correct to assume that you’ve come to talk to my wife about that horrible attack on her brother?” He shook his head with contempt.
“Actually, I came to see you.” Not waiting for an invitation, Ivanov took a seat on a leather chair on the opposite side of the desk.
He looked around—the office reminded him of a private library in some English country estate. Whoever designed it managed to create a perfect balance between expensive, dark woods and soft leather upholsteries. One wall was covered by a floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with exquisitely bound volumes. Abramov noticed the Russian classics—Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Pushkin. Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago was proudly displayed on the middle shelf as a reminder that Russia became the land of the free.
“Have you actually read any of these?” Ivanov couldn’t resist asking.
“And why wouldn’t I?” Drozdov gave his guest a stern look. “But I assume you haven’t come all this way to discuss the metaphorical meaning of Nabokov’s Lolita?”
“Of course, of course. I came all the way to Yekaterinburg from Krasnoyarsk to see you because I have a problem, and I hope you can help me tie some loose ends.”
Drozdov said nothing and just kept starring at his visitor.
“We’ve found some bodies in Krasnoyarsk, and I have reasons to believe that they were the men who attacked your wife’s brother,” Ivanov continued.
“Oh?”
“You’re sure that you don’t know anything about it?”
“Mr. Ivanov, I have great respect for the FSB, and I won’t lie to you by saying that I feel sorry for those thugs. I’m a religious man, and I believe in the All-Seeing-Eye-of-God.” Drozdov pointed to an exquisite replica of the Eye of Providence, a Russian orthodox icon hanging on the wall. “As they say, who fights with a sword, dies by a sword. Those bastards deserved what happened to them. But I’m afraid I know nothing about it. Who were those men, and why did they attack Tatiana’s brother?”
“See, Mr. Drozdov therein lies the problem—the victims are Americans, and I’ll have a lot of explaining and even more paperwork to do because the US embassy will want to know what happened and why. And I’ll have to provide them with answers, which I don’t have.”
Drozdov sat back with a worried expression. “Maybe you could tell them that it was an unfortunate accident?”
“Trust me, if I could, I would.” Ivanov shook his head. “Regrettably, it looks like the victims were subject to a particularly nasty treatment before they died. One man even had his testicles cut off and shoved into his throat. It was done while he was still alive.”
“Oh, oh, oh….” Drozdov shrugged. “Please, spare me the details. I don’t condone violence.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” Ivanov watched his host’s expression, but Drozdov had a perfect poker face. “At first, I thought the victims were tortured for information, but now, I wonder if maybe it was something else.”
“Like what?” Drozdov asked.
“Like revenge. What do you think?”
“How would I know? Were all three victims treated that way?”
“I never said there were three victims.” Ivanov leaned closer to his host.
“I’m pretty sure they’ve told us in the hospital that Sergei was attacked by three men.”
“And I’m pretty sure they haven’t. That information was never released.” Ivanov’s voice became sharp.
“Maybe it came from Ulan Ude police department.” Drozdov waved his hand dismissively. “It’s really irrelevant. The men are dead, and I swear on my mother’s grave that I had nothing to do with it. If you’d excuse me, I have an important business meeting starting in a couple of minutes.”
“I’ll be in touch, Mr. Drozdov. And please, send my regards to your wife. I’m happy that her brother is feeling better.”
After Ivanov left the room, Drozdov dialed a number on his phone.
“I’ve told you to get rid of the bodies. You left a mess, and now FSB is sniffing around…. No, they don’t have anything solid…. Any news about the woman and the kid? …. Nothing? Keep looking and call me the minute you find them.”
Chapter 44
“Holy shit!” Sonia said explosively and jerked in surprise.
“I totally agree with that assessment,” Jenny whispered while grabbing Sonia’s arm. She stepped back, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.
When they said that a person’s automatic response to something frightening is fight or flight, they lied. Jenny favored the third option: freeze and pretend you’re not there.
The creature cleared its throat and said, “I hope I haven’t scared y’all. But if I have, please accept my apologies. We had a ceremony, and there was no time to change. We didn’t expect you here so soon.”
“Have I completely lost my mind, or do I hear a ghostly apparition speaking American English with a Texan drawl?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, to both. You’ve lost your mind, but that happened a long time ago. And yes, the monster speaks American English dialect usually associated with the beautiful state of Texas,” Sonia agreed.
“I’m not a monster,” the creature protested. “Gideon King at your service, born and raised in Hopkins County, Texas.”
Jenny and Sonia did not bother to respond. Unable to provide a logical interpretation of what was going on, they accepted that they both had some weird hallucination at the same time, and they were going to either die or wake up from the nightmare.
“Is that reaction to low-frequency infrasound contagious?” Jenny whispered.
“No way,” Sonia whispered back.
The creature took off the horned hat made of animal hide and exposed bushy, snow-white hair, cascading down almost to his waist. Equally bushy white beard and mustache indicated that the strange individual was male.
“You’re expected in the settlement,” he added. “I suggest we go before the tourists show up, and we’ll create an incident.”
The women did not move or blink.
“If you’re concerned about Naneyu,” the man said, “he is safe, reunited with his mother, and currently being escorted to the settlement by some of our best people.”
The mention of the boy brought Jenny and Sonia back to reality.
“Who, the hell, are you, and why do you want to give us a heart attack?” Jenny managed to ask.
“As I’ve said, Gideon King is the name. And I swear that scaring y’all hasn’t been my intention,” the man protested.
“Oh, yeah? After all that crap about the ghost of a shaman and people disappearing or going crazy in this cave, you’ve just decided to come over to say Hi while wearing this, this…I don’t even know what it is.” Jenny snorted.
