by Paul Greci
“It’s a basin,” Dylan says. “Slowly, it’s filling back up. A lake before the fires boiled it dry. We should imagine the shoreline”—Dylan points east and then west—“and just follow it.”
“How about if you lead us around the lake,” I say.
Dylan smiles. “I could, but I kind of like watching you flounder.”
“Look—”
“The bear,” Mike says. “It’s still coming.”
Dylan shrugs, but Mike just keeps staring at him until he starts moving.
I take up the rear with Tam right in front of me. Then Mike, Jess, and Max.
I keep glancing over my left shoulder to monitor the bear.
We’re making this big semicircle to the east. The water is only knee-deep, and our line of travel is taking us closer to the bear. I hope the shore will swing around to the south soon, but it just keeps dipping northward.
“The bear,” I call out. “It’s changed course and is angling toward us.”
CHAPTER
23
THE FIRST DROPS OF RAIN sink into the swamp. It must be pushing 90 degrees. If the sun were shining, it’d be over a hundred, easy. We keep following Dylan. I keep an eye on the bear. It’s only a half mile off, I estimate.
The rain comes harder. The drops creating light gray swirls in the slurry. The bear seems content to keep its steady pace instead of charging. Like it knows it can catch us if it just keeps on coming, so why waste energy running?
Two slugs from a shotgun might not drop a grizzly. I’d have to put a slug through its heart or hit it just behind the ear, and those are precision shots. And if the bear does charge, it’ll be bounding—bouncing up and down. Fifty yards, my dad had said. That’s when you shoot. It takes a charging bear three seconds to cover fifty yards. It’d probably be a little slower in this slurry. And if it’s weak, maybe that’d affect it, too.
I feel my heart beating through my soaked shirt. Don’t shoot, I tell myself, until it’s absolutely necessary. Until it’s your only option. I know if I shoot too soon, I might miss. But if I shoot too late, I might get mauled. Jess might get mauled.
I bump into Tam’s pack. “Sorry,” I say.
Tam glances back at me and says, “It’s okay. I can only go as fast as them.” She points forward with her bow.
“The shore,” Dylan says. “It’s curving back to the north even more.” He points. “See the bear. It’s walking the shore, too. Right at us.”
Dylan’s right. The shore has almost doubled back on itself. I try to picture the lakeshore below the ashy water. “We could be walking along an oxbow lake,” I say. “You know, an old river channel that got cut off and turned into a lake. They can curve. Big time. It could be shaped like a horseshoe.”
“I’m impressed,” Dylan says. “You’re not sounding as dumb as you usually do.”
Before I can respond, Tam says, “Let’s go back the way we came, and follow the shore to the west and see if it swings to the south.”
“That would buy us a little time,” I say.
Dylan laughs. “It’s just a bear.” Then he laughs again.
The rain is running down my nose and cheeks, dripping. It’ll be even harder to take an accurate shot.
“Dylan,” Mike says, “lead us back around.”
But Dylan just stands there, not looking at anyone.
Mike takes a step toward him. “Do it for me.”
Dylan slaps him in the face and laughs. “Do it for me,” he mocks. Then he slaps him again.
Mike doesn’t back off, but just keeps staring at him like the rest of us are.
“You guys are so ignorant,” Dylan says. He points at Max. “Except you.”
She doesn’t say anything.
Then he points at Jess. “And you, too. You’re too young to be ignorant.”
Jess is silent. Just the constant hour-after-hour slog even without the bear has to be overwhelming to her.
Mike steps up so they are nose to nose and whispers something to Dylan.
Dylan shoves him in the chest but then says, “I’ll do it. I’ll walk us back the way we came.”
I keep my mouth shut as Dylan walks by. I want to tell him all his bullshit has cost us some distance with the bear, but I know he’d just stop to argue and the bear would get even closer. What I really want to do is punch him in the face. If I thought it’d knock some sense into him, I’d try it.
I touch Jess’s arm as she walks by and offer her a smile, but she just keeps staring straight ahead. Max is pulling her along. I try to make eye contact with Mike, but he doesn’t look my way. Tam just nods. I take up my spot in the rear, watching the bear over my right shoulder.
It still amazes me that there’s a bear out here. If a few people survived the fires, I guess a bear could, too. Maybe it took refuge on a gravel bar in the middle of a river just like us. And maybe it found some food in some burnt-out basements. Or maybe it lived for a while on charred human remains, or by feasting on people who had died from smoke inhalation. Even though most of the villages had been abandoned for a long time, there were places scattered all over the Alaska bush. Places people used to access by small plane or boat or a snow machine, places it would take a person half a year or more to find on foot. But a bear could’ve found some of those places and found food in root cellars, or feasted on the bodies of people that had died out there.
The bear keeps coming, seeming content to follow the shoreline. No one is talking. I think about trying to make a plan if it charges, but I don’t want to deal with Dylan, or Mike, or anyone. I don’t want to take the time and energy, especially since I know I’d probably end up telling Dylan to go screw himself if he laughed or said something stupid.
I’m not scared of him, but I don’t want to fight him either. I just want all of us to get along. But it doesn’t seem to matter what I say to Dylan. He always says the opposite, or finds some way to argue or to make me look stupid. What scares me is how unpredictable he is.
I’m not officially in charge of the group, but I am the force driving us south. And even though I want everyone to make it out of the Sacrifice Area, my main priority is Jess. If Dylan wants to turn around, let him. Anyone else, too. It’d be better for Jess if Max stayed, but I’d deal with it if she didn’t. And if Tam left, I’d miss her. She’s been steady and reliable. If it weren’t for her, more of us would have died when we were ambushed.
The bear is gaining on us, only a couple hundred yards away. Less than twenty seconds if it charges. If only we would’ve turned west when we first hit the lakeshore. I wonder if Dylan knew that and turned us toward the bear intentionally.
“We need to do something different,” I call out through the rain.
Everyone stops, and I move a few steps out from the line so I can see everyone.
“We look like prey,” I say. “Let’s bunch up and slowly move toward the bear. I’ll shoot if I have to.”
“So will I,” Tam says.
“Before we try that,” Max says, “how about if we move off the lakeshore, not into the lake but in the opposite direction. Maybe it’ll keep following the shore and just walk on by. Walking where the walking is easiest. Maybe it means no harm.”
Dylan laughs. “You people.” He unclips his waist strap, slips his shoulders from his pack, and pushes it toward his brother. Mike stumbles backward from the weight of the pack and falls.
Then Dylan takes off at a dead sprint—straight for the bear.
CHAPTER
24
THERE’S NO WAY ANY OF us are going to catch Dylan, packless and with the head start he has. We all scream for him to stop, but he just keeps going.
Mike is standing up now, with Dylan’s pack leaning against his knees. He shakes his head.
Dylan is about a quarter of the way between us and the bear, still running, but it looks like he’s slowed a little. And the bear is still moving forward.
“Everyone,” I say, “follow me and keep yelling.”
I take off runn
ing at an angle away from the lakeshore into the swamp, hoping to distract the bear. Water splashes into my face. My eyes are in a permanent squint to keep the ashy drops out as I pound through the swamp as fast as I can.
Now a triangle is forming between Dylan, the rest of us, and the bear. I think Dylan can hear us. I hope he’ll turn and run toward us; then we’ll all be together, because running at the bear solo is freaking suicide. Truth be told, part of me doesn’t even want to try to save him.
If he’s intent on killing himself, let him go.
But he’s survived as long as the rest of us have in this hellhole. And even though I don’t know Mike very well, Dylan’s his little brother just like Jess is my little sister.
I turn and start angling toward the bear. I can hear the splashing behind me, so I know the others are following me. Dylan must’ve really slowed down because I’m just about even with him.
I glance behind me. Tam is on my heels. Max and Jess are back a little farther. I don’t see Mike, but I know he has to be back there somewhere.
The bear stops and stands on its hind legs, its head pointed in my direction. I keep barreling forward through the rain, committed to chasing it off or trying to kill it. Why did Dylan have to screw up my plan? Why did he have to act on his own, and like an idiot? And now Dylan turns and starts backing away.
But the bear, instead of chasing him, has dropped back on all fours and is coming toward me. Not charging but walking. I stop, then feel a bump on my back. I turn and see Tam. She isn’t even breathing hard. Jess and Max are about fifteen yards back. And Mike? He’s still back at the starting point along the lakeshore. And Dylan is working his way back toward Mike.
I drop my pack in the knee-high swamp and Tam does the same. She nocks an arrow into her bow and I raise my shotgun. Raindrops prick my cheeks and hands.
“Maybe we won’t have to shoot,” I say. “Maybe it’ll veer off.”
“I’ve never shot an animal,” Tam says. “Only people.”
The bear stands up again. It’s skinny but tall, maybe seven or eight feet. And its fur is matted down from all the rain and the swamp-walking. At least it isn’t moving forward at the moment. Maybe it’ll turn around and head back the way it came. I wish Mike would’ve followed and that Dylan had come our way instead of going back. It’d be easier to protect everyone if we were together. Plus, the bigger we appear the more likely it is that the bear will run away. That was my plan, the plan that Dylan wrecked.
“It’s beautiful,” Max says.
Under different circumstances I’d agree with her. But now that bear is a potential killing machine. Or, if we actually manage to kill it, a food source.
“If you do shoot,” Max says, “make it a good shot. So it doesn’t suffer.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say. “Maybe it’ll turn away.”
“I doubt it,” Max says. She puts her arm around Jess. “I thought Dylan was being brave by running at the bear. But now I don’t know. Maybe it was a trick.”
“Travis is the brave one,” Jess says.
I try to block out their words. No way could Dylan have known that I’d lead a charge and the bear would ignore him. Maybe he just doesn’t value his own life enough to value anyone else’s. Or, gifted as he is, maybe he’s also just plain nuts. And me, brave? I’m just doing what needs to be done. And I’m scared out of my freaking mind.
The bear drops to all four legs and starts splashing through the swamp toward us. I raise the shotgun to my shoulder. If it stands on its hind legs, I’ll try to put a slug in its chest and hope for the best. If it doesn’t stand, I’ll just go for the head, or maybe a shoulder shot.
“When it gets within fifty yards, if it’s still coming, I’m shooting,” I say.
“Ditto,” Tam says.
I wish there was some type of landmark to help me gauge distances, but there isn’t. If I fire too soon, I might miss. If I fire too late, the big brute will be on us.
I can hear the water being displaced by the bear’s legs as it sloshes toward us. Fifty yards away? I’ll just have to guess.
It rises partway up on its hind legs. I adjust my aim and fire.
The bear slams backward.
I pump my final slug into the magazine and fire. The bear’s head jerks upward and all of a sudden there’s an arrow sticking out of its nose.
The bear swats at the arrow with one paw as it turns, taking heavy steps away from us. I blow air out of my nose that I didn’t know I was holding. My ears are on fire from the gunshots. The bear staggers onto where I think the lakeshore is, then keeps going and disappears under the water.
I watch, but it doesn’t resurface. It’s probably dead, or dying. No way are we going to get any meat from that carcass. At least Jess is safe, but I’m out of slugs. One bullet left in the pistol I’ve given Max to hold. I’ll have to get it back later.
Right now, I have to deal with Dylan.
CHAPTER
25
“I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU did what you did, but it was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever seen anyone do,” I say. “I mean, what did you think would happen?”
Dylan sticks his hands in his pockets, then says slowly, “Sometimes thinking can inhibit action.” Then he laughs.
Mike’s standing next to him, leaning on his spear, silent. Jess, Tam, and Max span the gap between us, so we form a little semi-circle in the swamp.
“Dylan,” I say, “you put everyone in danger.”
“No one was in danger until you took off running and screaming,” Dylan says. “I was gonna meet that bear head-on and turn it back.”
“And how were you gonna do that?” I spit some ashy saliva into the swamp. “How?”
“I just was,” Dylan says. “I knew it would happen. I can’t explain it.”
I look toward the sky, relieved to see some patches of blue in the gray. If we can get around this lake and reach those hills, we can empty our packs and dry things out.
“You can’t just do whatever you want,” Tam says. “Travis had a good plan, to approach the bear as a group. Max had a good plan, to move out of the bear’s path. You messed them both up. We got lucky. You got really lucky.”
Dylan laughs. “You people. You think you know everything. My dad did what he wanted. He followed his vision. And he told me, ‘Always follow your vision. Always.’”
I take a step forward. “Your dad is dead. My dad is dead. We can’t do what our parents did if we want to survive. They didn’t make it. Their systems or visions or plans or dreams weren’t good enough. My dad thought we’d be living in a stone-age utopia. That’s what he called it when he was convincing my mom to stay. Few people, with enough moose, caribou, salmon, berries, and firewood to go around. We could remake the world up here, cut off from all the crap. Now your dad’s vision was a little different than mine. Destroy everything, including the people, and start over.” I want to add that he was just plain fucking crazy, but I know that won’t be helpful.
“Cleanse,” Dylan says. “Not destroy. Cleanse. Purify.” Dylan turns to Mike. “Dad would still be here if it weren’t for you.” He thumps his brother in the chest. “You wrecked it.” Dylan takes a step back. Tears run down his cheeks.
Mike reaches out, but Dylan swats his hand away and says, “You wrecked everything.”
Mike steps toward Dylan and says, “If I hadn’t killed him, he would’ve killed you, just like he did Mom.”
“Mom,” Dylan shouts. “He didn’t kill Mom. She ran away and never came back. The bitch abandoned us.”
Mike shakes his head. “That’s what Dad wanted us to believe. But I found her.” Mike rubs one of his wrists, and when he removes his hand, I see a scar there. “Nailed to a cross. You remember those counter boards that disappeared from the countertop?”
Dylan just stares at him.
“He used those,” Mike says.
Dylan says, “You never showed me. You never told me.”
“I wanted to protect you.” He rubs h
is wrist again.
“Liar.” Dylan shakes his head. “You probably killed them both. You’re just trying to save your own ass now.” Dylan turns to the rest of us. “Don’t believe him. He’s nuts.”
Mike glances toward me. I don’t know what to say. I mean, I believe Mike’s story over Dylan’s, but he just said their father killed their mother and Mike killed his father. Who are these guys?
Jess buries her head in Max’s side.
“People,” I say, “all we’ve got are each other. None of us are perfect. And it’s pretty obvious that we’ve got a lot to learn about who we all are.” I pause. “We need to act as a unit. Maybe none of us will make it to the coast to search for the settlements. But we’ll have a lot better chance if we work together.”
I look around the circle. Dylan is the true wild card, but if I single him out, he’ll fight me the whole way. “Can we all agree to work our way around this lake together and then take a rest in those hills on the far side? And if the weather holds, hopefully, dry out our stuff.”
“Who put you in charge?” Dylan asks.
“Just shut up,” Tam shouts. “He’s not in charge. But neither are you. Just because you caused all this destruction, you think you’re some hotshot. You and your dumbass dad killed Jason and Patrick. You killed everything.” Tam points at Dylan with her one remaining arrow. “If I didn’t have more self-control, I’d shoot this into your gut.”
Dylan laughs again. “Go ahead. Use your last arrow on me, bitch.”
Tam keeps staring him down. “I’ll save it for something that matters.” She spits into the swamp and turns her back on him.
I take a deep breath. “I’m just floating an idea. And yeah, I want to leave this wasteland. I didn’t cross the river and enter the swamp for fun and games. I’m on a mission. We’ve been in knee-deep water for over a day.” I turn to Dylan. “I’m hoping you’ll keep leading us around the lake since you seem to know how to find the shore.” It’s all I can do to keep from adding the word asshole to the end of my request.