CHAPTER 18

 

She looked back at the Chinese couple and waved at them as she and Sujay set off along the trail on the penultimate leg of their journey to Chumtang.

They had feasted on rice and eggs and tea for breakfast and she had tried to give them twenty dollars, but Sujay said dollars were of little use to them and so she gave them two thousand rupees instead. Sujay had snorted a little but she pointed out that as he was unlikely to bring other Western visitors here, it could do no harm, and she desperately wanted to show them her gratitude. Despite the relatively large sum of money, they seemed unmoved, but they took it graciously and bowed.

“We have another day’s walk and one more night and then we shall be in Chumtang by tomorrow afternoon.” They’d only been walking for a few days but to her it seemed like months, so far removed was she from her own environment. But the weather was fine, the trail flat if not descending gradually, and she felt fortified by the food and rest. When they’d started out, the temperature had been barely above freezing so they’d wrapped up warm, but soon she was able to discard her fleece.

“It is easy now. There are one or two inclines but we are coming down to three thousand five hundred metres.” She was grateful to hear it. She couldn’t bear a repeat of yesterday, but then she was reminded she’d have to come back in a few days and run that gauntlet again.

She hadn’t showered since the first day, but as Sujay had warned her at the outset, normal standards of personal hygiene didn’t apply out here and, in truth, she felt no ill effects from wearing the same clothes and washing with little more than a tiny wet wipe, and last night’s self-administered bed bath had been positively luxurious. It was a revelation to her that, out in the wild, the most basic of items could seem so important.

Peter had never got this far. He’d turned back at Langtang, convinced that no one could have survived, equally convinced that, even if Lisa had somehow beaten the odds, she would have let someone know. Cried for help. She wondered how he might have fared at over four thousand metres but it was an academic thought. The extraordinary thing was Lisa had come this way, with broken bones and a blank memory, apparently transported on the back of a mule. Two and a half days from Langtang, not counting her excruciatingly painful resurrection from the rubble. From her initial disparaging comments about Lisa’s apparent conduct and assumed motivations, she had built up more than a little respect for this person she had never met, and her admiration grew with every step. Lisa was probably an extraordinary person. But then, after all, she was a Jeffries.

 

By late morning, they had descended to three thousand metres and, in comparison to the previous day, the air was rich and clear, so she could breathe normally and enjoy the scenery. They dropped below the tree line and the trail swung left and right, up and down, across raging streams; and, as always, the valley on their right afforded spectacular views of the mountains when visible through the gaps in the trees.

They reached a small plateau where the course of the trail swung round to the left but widened out on the right to an area the size of a small car park. The trees on the right had disappeared, having at some time in the past slipped down the mountainside, and the gap they left gave an uninterrupted view of the peaks in the distance.

Three men stood at the extreme right-hand edge, some thirty feet away, one of them holding the reins of a brown, heavily laden mule, all three smoking. They stood, heads down, scuffing their feet on the ground, a spare hand lazily stuffed in a tracksuit trouser pocket.

Sujay stopped for a split second but she had already looked across, and seeing one of the men look up, she waved at them.

“Namaste!” she called.

“Keep going,” he said tersely and quickened his pace.

“What is it?” She sensed something in the tone of his voice and could see his eyes focused on the men as he walked.

“Chinese. Keep going. Don’t look at them.” But as he spoke, two of them exchanged words, flicked away their cigarettes and sauntered across to their right, closing the distance, on course to intercept them on the path ahead. Sujay stopped twelve feet away from the men and held an arm out to his side, indicating she should wait.

Jess stood behind him and to one side, studying the men and feeling increasingly apprehensive. They were dressed in filthy sweatshirts, tracksuit bottoms and battered trainers, and the shorter of the two had a long leather scabbard, housing a machete, dangling from his belt. The taller one stepped forward and said something in Chinese. Sujay replied curtly in the same language. She had no idea what they were saying but it disturbed her. The exchange was repeated, this time with a little more urgency. Until now, she hadn’t seen Sujay look so tense and she began to feel frightened.

The tall one said something and in response, Sujay launched into an extensive diatribe. The two Chinese men slowly separated and as the taller one approached, hands in pockets, the other went wide, disappearing from her peripheral vision. The conversation became more animated and aggressive, and Sujay stepped forward in an attempt to reinforce whatever point he was trying to make, gesticulating with both hands. Jess remained rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do but feeling her heart race. She twisted her neck to see the shorter Chinese man standing motionless twelve feet behind her, smirking.

When Sujay and the tall one were just two feet apart, Sujay lifted one arm again and shouted as if to wave the man away. In response, the man removed his hand from his pocket and poked Sujay in the stomach with a swift punching movement.

Sujay flinched and Jess ran forward.

“Sujay!” she cried as he took a few steps back, slowly at first, but then his backward motion gathered pace and he lost balance, falling backwards, a hand pressed against his middle. She saw the puzzled expression on his face and the blood oozing out between his fingers. She looked up in horror at the tall guy, who held a long thin blade in his right hand, glistening red. He casually wiped it on his trousers, closed the blade and slipped it into his pocket. “Sujay!” she screamed again and dropped to her knees beside him as he slowly lay back on the ground.

The second Chinese man was on her in a second, grabbing her from behind by her rucksack, and as the taller one shouted instructions he dragged her kicking and struggling across the open area towards the edge, one hand gripping her hair tightly. He stopped a few feet from the cliff edge, arm round her throat as she continued to struggle, trying to get free of his grip. She could see over the side. It was a sheer drop and from her angle she couldn’t see the bottom. The tall one arrived in front of her.

The two of them jabbered excitedly, laughing and sneering while the third man simply watched from a distance, holding onto the mule. The tall one took a step forward and roughly tore at the clasps of her rucksack, grinning at her, open-mouthed. He stank of tobacco, garlic and sweat, and she saw what few teeth he had left were either black or yellow.

The one holding her pulled off her rucksack and threw it on the ground, resuming his grip around her neck, while the tall one yanked down the zip on her jacket and ripped it open. His partner pulled the jacket down off her shoulders, pinning her arms behind her. The man in front felt around in the inside pockets of her jacket and pulled out her iPhone, squealed in triumph and held it aloft like a trophy, before slipping it into the back pocket of his trousers.

She screamed but he grabbed her mouth with one hand and squeezed tightly, stifling the cry, while the man behind slipped his spare hand round to her chest and roughly groped her through her white tee shirt, laughing and grunting lasciviously.

The tall one barked an order and the groping stopped. She shook with fear, feeling hands on her shoulders, pressing her down, forcing her to her knees, the guy crouching behind her, gripping her tightly round the neck. He resumed his groping and grunting as the tall one looked down and sneered at her. She saw both his hands had disappeared down the inside of his tracksuit pants, and he was working them up and down vigorously. He inched forward, pulled his hands out and tugged his trousers to the ground, his phallus springing upwards to attention.

He held himself in one hand and put his other behind her head, gripping and tugging her hair with such force she shouted out in pain; and then she knew. They had already killed Sujay. They were going to rape her and then they were going to kill her and throw her over the edge. She screamed with all the power in her lungs and the tall one screamed along with her, as if mocking her. She opened her eyes to look at him in defiance, her teeth bared in rage. Whatever happened next she was going to hurt him.

He put one hand behind her head, pulling it towards the other gripping his phallus, and only then did she notice he had a third, larger hand around his testicles, the knuckles white with pressure. He has three hands?

The tall man’s scream intensified. The neck of his sweatshirt had tightened and appeared to be choking him. He released her hair, moving his free hand up to his neck to try and relieve the pressure on his windpipe. She watched his eyeballs bulge and then he self-levitated, canted his body at an angle and launched himself over the edge as if fired from a catapult, his arms windmilling in space, his feet tied together by the pants around his ankles, his screams disappearing into the abyss to end abruptly with a thud.

She turned her head to follow his trajectory and then caught a shadow of movement in front of her, but within a fraction of a second she felt a violent push in the back and was propelled forward. With her arms still constrained by her jacket, and unable to break her fall, she hit the dust face first, her forehead colliding with a small stone. She blacked out.

 

 

The bandit holding the foreign devil bitch from behind had been so engrossed in his groping he was slow to notice his colleague’s acrobatics, but he heard his screams and then screamed himself when he saw a figure the size of a bear standing above him. He pushed the bitch forward and leapt to his feet, whipping out his machete, and with a banshee cry, lifted it behind his head and lunged at his attacker, swinging the blade down with maximum force.

“Aieeeeeeee ….!”

His assailant easily caught the machete arm by the wrist, pulled it down and swung his body around, smashing the elbow of his free arm into the bandit’s face, breaking both nose and left cheekbone, causing an instant explosion of blood, teeth and gristle. The bandit screamed again as his machete arm was twisted around behind him, the weapon dropping from his hand. His opponent swung round again and brought his elbow down with maximum force on the upturned arm, cleanly snapping the joint. The bandit fell to his knees, still screaming, his face caked in blood and gore. The bear-man grabbed him, one hand on the trouser belt, the other around the neck of his sweatshirt, and with a short run and a hefty swing of both arms launched him, still screaming, into space after his colleague.

 

The third bandit had watched in terror as within the space of just twenty seconds, the bear-man despatched both his colleagues. He leapt astride the mule, kicking frantically with his legs and whipping its flanks with the reins in a desperate attempt to escape. The mule grunted and whinnied under the onslaught of blows, but trotted off down the trail at a speed of its own choosing. The bandit looked back, fearful the bear-man might pursue him, but saw him crawl over to the foreign devil bitch lying prostrate.

 

Jess felt hands on her shoulders again. She was stunned by the fall and only semi-conscious, but she understood enough to know what was happening and summoned up reserves of energy to cry out again. “No! No! Get off me! Get off me!”

She flailed her arms around as she felt someone pulling her up to her knees and reached behind, managing to find flesh and dig a nail in, tearing at her attacker’s face with all her might. But he grabbed her hands and held them like a vice.

“Jess … Jess! It’s okay. Stop! It’s okay. You’re okay.” What …? A man’s voice. English. He knows my name! How does he know my name?

“What …?” she mumbled.

“It’s okay,” he said again, and she relaxed a little, but her chest was thumping, her body heaving with the exertion and one of her legs twitched involuntarily. She felt a body behind her, holding her steady, cradling her, and she lay back, panting, her cheeks streaked with dust and tears. “Stay still. Just stay calm. You’re okay now.” The voice was mature, gentle, warm and comforting. She wondered whether she had died but then opened her eyes a little, and as the fog cleared she managed to focus on something she recognised. Someone lying on the ground twenty feet away.

“Sujay!” She wrestled herself free and promptly fell over, got up again, and half ran, half crawled to where her guide was lying motionless. He looked calm. One hand still held his stomach and his face was serene, almost smiling, but she noticed one of her own hands was sticky from the blood on the ground and he was lying in a pool of it. “Sujay?” She touched his cheek but had no idea what else to do. She sensed someone beside her. A big man was kneeling next to them, pulling at a rucksack that was neither hers nor Sujay’s.

“Unbutton his shirt,” he instructed her calmly as he foraged inside, and for a moment she didn’t understand him. “Do it!” he shouted, and startled into action, she fumbled with his buttons, carefully moved the bloodied hand to his side and opened up his shirt. He wore a green tee shirt underneath, stained with a large circular patch of blood and at the centre, a small vertical tear. The man grabbed the hem of the tee shirt and ran a knife up to his neck, exposing a brown, shiny, hairless chest and yet more blood. He flipped the top off a large plastic bottle of water and tipped it over Sujay’s belly, and as the blood cleared away, she could see a one-inch vertical incision in his stomach, four inches to the left of his umbilicus. The man pulled a chrome hip flask out of an inside pocket

“This is going to hurt, buddy,” he said as he splashed amber liquid over the wound. Sujay’s face creased up in pain but he remained still. The bleeding stopped for a second or two but then resumed almost immediately, pulsating out of the slit.

“Press it together! With your fingers. Press it together to stop it bleeding,” he barked at her and she mutely complied, Sujay wincing with pain at the pressure as she struggled to stop her hands slipping in his blood.

“Sorry!” she pleaded forgiveness. “Sorry.”

The guy dabbed at the wound with a white pad and then attached two large strips of surgical tape across his middle, either side of the wound, pulling it tight.

“Move your hands.” He slapped another white pad over the slit and stuck down some more tape to secure it. “Have you got any more of those white shirts?” he said, nodding at her.

“What do you mean …” she mumbled, still confused and largely incoherent. He looked irritated. “Yes!” she said, suddenly comprehending, and turned her head to look for her rucksack. She spotted it over by the cliff edge and raced over to it. She was back in a few seconds, ripping open the flap and rummaging around inside. She pulled out the shirt which was clean and hadn’t been worn. He took it off her and he ripped it open with his knife, spreading it out into one large piece of cloth.

“Now. I’m going to roll him a bit, you’re going to slide this behind his back and then I’ll roll him the other way.”

“Okay,” she said, beginning to feel a little less useless as he handed her the mutilated shirt.

“Ready?” She nodded. He rolled Sujay onto his left side and he moaned. She tucked herself under his arm and laid her shirt out on the ground, leaving enough cloth to reach around to his front. He then leant over Sujay and pulled him the other way, and this time he cried out in pain. Jess retrieved the other end of the shirt and he rolled Sujay onto his back. He pulled the two ends together tightly and knotted them on one side. A small patch of blood appeared through the layers of bandage.

“That’ll have to do for now.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chunky black phone. A smallish brick with stubby aerial. She looked at him almost in contempt.

“That’s not going to work! You won’t get a signal around here!” Not on that old thing. It’s not even a smartphone! He ignored her, punched some buttons that bleeped in response and put it to his ear. To her astonishment, someone must have answered because he said something unintelligible, something that sounded like the language Sujay used. She fished around in her jacket for her phone but it was gone. Then she remembered. It would be down at the bottom of the mountain in the pocket of a dead Chinaman.

The guy looked up to the sky and gave some more instructions, answers to a few questions, then nodded. “Jaldi karo. Alavida.” Hurry. Bye. He clicked off.

“How did you do that? On that?” she said, amazed. He looked it, dumbly.

“Satphone.”

“What?” Satphone? Satellite phone? Wow! She looked up at the sky, expecting to see a spaceship or other such flying object hovering overhead. There was none.

“Sujay? Sujay,” he said leaning over. “There’s a chopper coming to get you out. But there’s no room for it to land here so we’re going to have to get you to an open space. Do you understand?” Sujay rocked his head a little from side to side, delirious and weak from the loss of blood.

“How are we going to do that?” Jess asked, the panic beginning to return.

“I’m going to carry him. You’re going to carry the bags.”

He looked at her closely for the first time. “You’ve got a nasty scrape on your head. Let me fix that.” She lifted her hand up to her face and felt around, feeling broken skin above her left eyebrow, and she winced. He pulled out a sachet from his bag, ripped it open and dabbed it gently on the wound. She winced again and drew back. “Still,” he ordered, and she looked straight at him for the first time, watching him as he concentrated on his work. He looked familiar somehow. She’d seen him before. She noticed he was bleeding from a scratch on the cheek.

“You’re bleeding too.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying … Oh God! Did I do that?” He smiled and then it came to her. The scruffy guy on the plane. How?

“You. You were on the plane. The flight from London. And Dubai.” He said nothing. He unwrapped another soft pad and taped it to her skin. “Who are you?” she challenged him. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t respond. “Who are you?” she was shouting, shaking in confusion.

“Simon,” he said, holding out a hand. “How do you do.” She looked dumbly at his huge, calloused hand and shook it limply, but then frowned when something else suddenly came to her.

“How do you know my name?”

“Not now, Jess.” Her face creased with frustration. “Let’s get Sujay sorted out. Up you get.” She snorted and stood up. “Turn around.” He held out his rucksack for her to put her arms through. It was heavier than her own, but then he was obviously stronger. He attached all three bags to her, front and back, tugging at the straps and slapping the load with the flat of his hand when he’d finished. She stepped back to steady herself. “How’s that? Can you manage?”

“I think so.” He dropped to his knees next to Sujay. His breathing was shallow and his eyes were closed. “He’s lost a lot of blood, but I guess he’s a pretty strong chap. We’ve got about half-an-hour before the chopper gets here.” Thirty minutes – no kidding. “We need to get him away from the trees. Sujay, I’m going to lift you up now, okay?”

Jess watched, feeling impotent and useless and fearing the worst as Simon squatted in front of Sujay, slipping one arm under his knees and another under his waist. He took a deep breath and keeping his back straight, just like a weightlifter, slowly straightened his legs. Sujay moaned as Simon reached vertical, one of Sujay’s arms left dangling.

“Phew! He’s only a little chap but he’s got plenty of muscle on him. Eighty-five kilos, I reckon.” Jess heard the strain in his voice and wondered how on earth they were going to get very far like that. “Let’s go.” Simon took a few faltering steps but soon got into a rhythm and started plodding slowly along the trail, with Jess and her three rucksacks following behind.

 

***

 

Mercifully, the trail went downhill, albeit only slightly, and although progress was painfully slow, they walked for ten minutes without saying anything. Jess still felt numb with shock; the reality of the assault she’d just endured hadn’t yet hit her, and she remained confused about Simon’s presence. He came from nowhere, but he saved us! She realised she hadn’t proffered any thanks for what he’d done nor for what he was doing now, but the hideous episode with those vile Chinese guys had reawakened the suspicions she used to have about men. In her short time in Nepal she’d been lured into believing that all people were considerate, thoughtful, hospitable and well meaning, but in an instant that illusion had been shattered, roundly trashed in as extreme a way imaginable.

For the moment, Simon was their saviour. It troubled her that, despite all the evidence in his favour, she was once again looking for sinister intent. They came across some large, round boulders, two feet high, and Simon stopped.

“Need to take a break.” He did his best not to show the exertion but she wasn’t fooled. In the last few minutes, he’d walked with an increasingly wide gait, staggered a little from time to time and now had sweat on his brow. In contrast, she felt fine, and despite her load, she’d managed well. And with every step, they descended into richer air.

He sat down on a boulder and rested Sujay on his lap. Jess leant over them and touched Sujay’s face. He was breathing but unconscious and his skin was cold and clammy.

“He’s very cold.”

“Not a lot I can do about that.” He wheezed, taking in deep breaths and grimacing

“I know! I’m just saying.” And she was suddenly annoyed at herself for sounding irritable. She was just desperately worried. He smiled at her, and although she was not ready to drop her guard, she felt the need to salve her conscience. “How are you feeling?” she asked him.

“Aw, well. You know. I’ve had worse.” He let out a small chuckle. “Do you need a hand with those bags?” She frowned and looked at him as if he were mad, then realised the question was meant in jest. She couldn’t stop herself smiling, just a little.

“No, thanks. You’ve got your hands full.”

He looked up at the clear blue sky.

“Chopper should be here soon.”

“How come it’s so quick?”

“From Kathmandu to here in a straight line with no obstacles …?”

“But how are they going to know where we are?”

“GPS on the satphone.” She felt stupid again.

“Oh. So you called up an air ambulance, just like that?”

“Air force, actually, or Nepalese Army Air Service, to give its proper title.”

“The Air Force?”

“Yep. They’ve got nothing better to do,” he said and he winked at her, so she turned away, unwilling to show any reaction. She knew he was being flippant, probably just to make light of the situation and make her feel better, but deep down she was still shaking. The entire expedition had been disrupted in the most violent and unimaginable way. She’d seen her friend almost stabbed to death in front of her and she had been subjected to a terrifying assault by two vicious thugs who’d then been thrown to their deaths by the guy sitting next to her. And all she knew was that his name was Simon. Or he said it was. And he had a hotline to the Nepalese Air Force! It all seemed so unreal. “Come on, buddy,” he said to Sujay’s comatose form, and stood up with a grunt. She noticed the blood patch on Sujay’s middle had spread, leaving a six-inch diameter dark red stain on her nice white shirt and also on Simon’s.

They trudged on for another ten minutes and she began to feel hot, but she was trussed up by the rucksacks and buckles and decided it was the lesser of two evils to continue on rather than try and remove her jacket. Simon was plodding on, step by step, slowly and methodically. She heard Sujay talking to her – “Bistari!” – and she felt a wave of apprehension and grief. Don’t die – what am I going to say to your wife and children?

She thought about her girls and how reckless she’d been, leaving them and almost getting herself killed. Michael had tried to warn her. If only she’d listened. If only she’d thought through the implications, considered the risks before flying halfway around the world to this wilderness.

She kept replaying the events in her head, and she shuddered. Her mind wouldn’t let her shake them off. What might have happened? “It didn’t. Get on with it!” Peter’s voice came through loud and clear, cutting through her febrile imagination. Simon had stopped again.

“What is it?”

“Down there.” He jerked his head, nodding towards a stretch of land that had opened up to their right. It was peppered with rocks and boulders, but largely green with coarse grass and shrubs. A fast-flowing stream zigzagged its way through the rocks, making a bid to escape down the mountain. Most important of all, there were no trees. “We need to get down there.”

The ground fell away sharply to the right of the trail and there was a twelve-foot drop before the gradient levelled out. Simon carefully stepped over to the edge, looking for a secure way down, but there was none. Just rocks and scree and spiky, thorny shrubs awaited them. But he had no choice. He tried to go sideways, testing the ground for a safe foothold but his right foot slid away from him and he almost dropped Sujay. He managed to regain his balance and she called down to him.

“Can I help?” she asked, the agitation evident in her voice as she anxiously watched him struggling with his load.

“Maybe,” he said, panting with the effort. “Go ahead of me. I can’t see where I’m going.”

She jumped down and around in front of him, and although her feet slid on the loose scree, she and her accumulated baggage weighed relatively little so she had no difficulty keeping her feet.

Simon lifted Sujay against his chest, fearing he was beginning to slip, and repositioned his arms to make them more secure and comfortable. Sujay moaned. At least he’s still alive.

“Okay. Guide me.”

Jess felt her heart begin to race. He’d given her responsibility for advising him where to go and she didn’t know what to do, what to tell him. She started to panic with indecision.

“Right foot. Down. Down. Back.” His right foot pressed against solid rock. His left one followed.

“Left foot. Forward. Up a little.” He took another step and brought his right foot alongside.

“Now. Big step. Right foot. Down, down, down …” She could see he was slipping, craning his neck over Sujay’s body as if to see where his foot was going. But his legs were growing steadily apart, reaching the point of no return. Then he struck something solid and pulled his left leg down, grimacing.

“Next bit’s easy. Three steps forward.” She backed down the slope, arms outstretched as if ready to catch them, as if that were remotely possible. They were halfway there. He twisted his head upwards, one ear to the sky.

“Chopper!”

She jerked her head up, looking around desperately, searching for the evidence, hearing nothing but the birds and the ever-present tinkling of water and the sound of scree and gravel, moving beneath her feet. But then, she sensed a distant hum that quickly developed into a bass drone and then a rapidly approaching whup-whupping sound that within just ten seconds was fifty feet above them. A red and gold monster hovering above their heads, engines roaring, their deafening noise shaking the ground beneath them, throwing up clouds of dust.

“Right foot down!” she shouted, but it was pointless. No one could hear anything amidst the infernal cacophony. He stepped down gingerly, twisting each foot to test its hold, and she held out both hands in a symbolic gesture of support, willing him down safely. One step after another. “Almost there!” And then the slope was behind them and they were picking their steps amongst the boulders to a tiny patch of flat dirt next to the rushing stream. Simon dropped to his knees and lowered Sujay onto the ground. He sat back and put his hands on his hips, gasping for breath.

She leaned over Sujay and stroked his face. He opened his eyes a crack and she thought for a moment