Torchwood Goes Forth
Interlude Two
Winter comes early to Siberia and there had been several severe frosts already this October. The short summer was becoming a memory as the thermometer hovered around freezing every night, only rising a little above this during the short daylight hours. Snow was already replacing the rain and would soon blanket the city and stay in place until June next year.
Nicolas shivered as he left the warmth of his house despite the several layers of clothing that covered almost every inch of his body. Only a slice of his face was open to the elements between the hat and hood pulled low over his brow and the scarf over his chin. The truck started at the second attempt, the heavy duty battery doing its job, and he drove it slowly out onto the road and headed away from the centre of the city. In just a few minutes he had left the suburb behind, following the road as it wound through trees. A couple of trucks passed him going the other way in the twenty minutes it took him to drive to the lake.
Lake Baikal, the second largest freshwater lake in the world, was dark and silent in the cold night. Soon the ice that was forming on the shoreline would thicken and spread and the whole vast area would be frozen solid. The only sound to be heard this evening was the truck's engine which Nicolas left running for the heater; he'd freeze to death if he sat in an unheated cab for more than half an hour. Sitting staring out at the darkness, lit by only a few distant lights on the dam and an occasional sweep of headlights on the road that led to it, he wondered what his family was doing back at the house. Little Tasha, his three year old daughter, would be in bed now and hopefully asleep clutching the doll that went everywhere with her. Lana, his wife, would be tidying up while listening to the radio and probably still smarting from their row earlier in the evening. She didn't like him taking on these 'little jobs' for Boris but they paid well and the family needed the money.
When the clock on the dashboard read 20.30, Nicolas clambered from the cab into the night. It had got even colder and the wind was filled with icy projectiles that scraped at his exposed cheeks before he pulled the scarf up over his nose. Bending into the wind, head down, he got the tools from the back seat and headed down the frozen path by the feeble light of his torch. The path wound around between the fir trees and soon he was out of sight of the truck and the road. Walking on, he veered left off the path and carefully clambered down the slope to the shore of the lake, the weight of the tool bag on his right shoulder almost overbalancing him at one point. When he reached the level, pebble strewn narrow strip of beach he stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings.
After only a few moments, Nicolas started off again. The wind was stronger here, blowing in across the huge expanse of water and it was dangerous to stand still for too long. He picked his way along the shore past stunted trees and dense undergrowth, dodging patches of ice and snow, until he reached a large boulder and ducked behind it. The torchlight showed the narrow crevasse and he squeezed through into the cave beyond. It was quieter in here and blessedly out of the wind but still icily cold. He lowered his scarf. An inlet of the lake had scoured out the cave leaving behind a roughly semi-circular opening four metres high and six or seven across at the widest point. Water ebbed and flowed leaving a constant pool on the bottom of the cave rising to a metre or more at high-water.
Skirting the knee-high water, he climbed onto the rocky ledge above the high water mark and dropped the tool bag beside the cone and rectangular power pack he had brought in the day before. It had taken him hours to assemble and he was not sure it would work. The power pack was like nothing he had ever seen before. He assumed it was from the West; Boris had many contacts in the United States. Kneeling, he removed his outer gloves and placed them on the ledge and hoped he would be able to work in his thin silk inner ones; he could not afford to lose fingers to frostbite. Opening the hatch on the side of the cone as instructed, Nicolas attached the heavy duty leads, screwing them up tight with the help of a pair of pliers. With everything in place, he flicked the switch and nodded in satisfaction when the two blue lights came on; it was done.
He was making his way back to the crevasse, the water higher now, when a large sinuous body emerged suddenly from the water and knocked Nicolas sideways, pinning him to the cave wall. It bit into his neck, injecting its paralysing venom before the man had time to react. Another of the creatures emerged from the water and helped drag the helpless but conscious Nicolas Baranshikov under the water.
Those pesky water creatures strike again ...