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flights won't last long. So book now, tan later at sunexpress.com. It's August 9th, 1993.

Alexander Kivitnitsky is on vacation with a group of friends kayaking down the Shnesnya River in Siberia,

just a few hundred kilometers north of Mongolia.

Thanks to a rainstorm a few days earlier, the swollen river offers the tourists a swift current and plenty of compelling rapids.

But at the moment, Alexander and his friends are paddling down

a relatively calm stretch enjoying the day. Above the tree line, they can see the peaks of the

Commer Dobbin mountain range standing at silent attention, snow-capped even during the summer season.

The only noise comes from their paddles

cutting through the clear water.

That is, until they come around a bend in the river,

and hear screams.

Alexander spots a young woman on the far bank,

barely older than a teenager.

She's frantically waving her arms

to get their attention,

screaming in desperation, so hard that the veins in her neck are bulging. They can't tell what

she's saying right away, but clearly something is very wrong, and the group paddles hard to reach

...