* * *
Andie flopped onto her old but comfortable bed and wrapped herself up in the hand-knitted blanket her grandmother had given her before she died. It was just as important as her camera to her, but irreplaceable. It was the one thing she would save, if forced to choose.
Her dinner was a microwaveable platter of bland chicken and watery pasta, not particularly tasty, but it was cheap, and she’d rescued it from the back of the small freezer. Whatever she could do to stretch food out until she got paid from the development company again, the better. She’d emailed the canceled work, saying that she could do it now that she had her camera back, but they’d already hired someone else. It’s not like there was a shortage of product photographers looking for work, especially as full-time photography jobs were going the way of the dinosaurs. Everything was freelance and contract work, nowadays.
“Is that tasty, Daisy?” Andie asked the chinchilla, who was happily munching away on some fresh salad greens. “I got them special for you, I know how you like that kind.” Daisy continued to crunch on the lettuce, the quiet sounds Andie’s only company.
She checked her phone again. No messages. She texted her friends again: “Did you change your numbers?” Her previous message had been left on read. Was she being ghosted? Did it even matter, anymore? There was nothing on television, just re-runs of old shows she’d seen a hundred times. Another boring night alone.
Her camera was sitting on top of the cheap plywood kitchen table, miraculously undamaged. She was so grateful that Cat had rescued it for her, but the missing SD card still bothered her. How would it have fallen out of the latched slot? If Cat had taken it, why? The only photos on there would be from that night in the reserve, some blurry images of the bear, if she was lucky, but nothing else. She always took a clean card to work on wildlife photography. When you were shooting in RAW, it took up a lot of digital space.
Andie did a couple of searches on her phone for women named Cat in the area. She figured she must work for some local conservation groups or something, but she couldn’t find any trace of a group like that. Frustrated, she tossed her phone to the other side of the couch. Her investigative skills had never been that good, and Cat was impossible to find. She definitely hadn’t grown up here - there was only one high school, a small one, and Andie definitely would have remembered a girl as pretty as her. As it was, Andie didn’t date at all in school, and didn’t kiss a girl until she went away to college. What a mess that had been.
She paced back and forth from the stove to the bed, only a few steps between them, but in a small studio apartment, there wasn’t much option. Daisy watched her with curiosity. Andie was antsy, like she wanted to do something, but wasn’t sure what. It was more than boredom, but not quite impulsiveness. If the SD card had fallen out, it might still be at the reserve. She’d already purchased a new one, she had for work that morning, but something about it was nagging at her.
The calendar hanging on the wall marked off the days until the competition deadline. It was only a couple of weeks away, now. She was banned from the park until the new year, thanks to her arguing with the ranger on the long hike back to the information building. What an absolute piece of work. What kind of person wouldn’t let you at least look for your camera, or pack up your gear? Now all her stuff was held hostage in the building until her ban was over, which meant driving further to camp in a different reserve wasn’t going to be an option, either.
Andie continued to pace, the thick strands of her cozy socks catching on the uneven floorboards. She picked up her phone. No messages. She tried another search, this time for women named Catherine. What else could “Cat” be short for? She wanted to ask about the SD card. She wanted to apologize for running out that morning. She was strangely drawn to her, and not just because she was the cutest, prettiest woman she’d ever met. Maybe her name was spelled with a K. She searched for Katherine, and then Katia. The only result on the last one was an eighty-seven-year-old woman who lived in one of the mansions at the edge of town.
“Screw it,” she said aloud. “I’m not afraid of a goddamn ranger.” Securing the camera around her neck, she swapped in a fresh SD card and swung the tripod over her back by its strap. She grabbed her keys from the hook at the door, shoved her feet into her boots, so caked with mud that they left reverse imprints with dirt on the floor, and headed out the door. She was going to go back to the reserve, and she’d either find her SD card, or she’d find Cat, or she’d find the bear.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cat pulled into the reserve, wearing the gross night shift clothes again. She hated wearing torn up old plaid and dirty jeans, but there was no sense in wearing something cute, not when it would just get ruined.
The parking lot was rammed full, which would have been strange, once, especially on a weeknight. Not anymore, though - the garbage cans were already overflowing, and trash was spread all over the ground. Cat grimaced at the mess and stepped over a discarded styrofoam cup. Pigs, she thought.
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed for the red trail, the one that led the furthest away from the main encampment. Once the housing development started bulldozing the back half of the reserve, things would get a lot more difficult. The thought of it made bile rise up in the back of her throat, and her stomach roil angrily. Why couldn’t people just leave wild areas the hell alone, instead of developing them, sanitizing them with perfectly trimmed lawns and sculpted, limited gardens with smooth paved stones that encouraged you to walk the way they had intended you to? It was sick.
“Excuse me!” a ranger said, running at her full speed. “You need to sign in!”
“What? Since when?”
“I’ve seen you in here at the same time the past five nights, we have reason to believe you might be a poacher.”
Cat barked out a laugh. “Lady, you couldn’t be further from the truth. Besides, what makes you think the poachers are coming in through the front goddamn gate? They’re obviously jumping the fences at the far end of the reserve.”
“How would you know that, if you’re not a poacher?”
“Are you serious right now?”
The ranger held up a clipboard. “Sign in, or you’re not going any further.”
“I’m not signing in, this is public land.” She gestured around. “Did you ask any of these little piggies to sign in?”
“Yes, of course, and the only person to give me grief on it is the one person I’ve suspected might be connected to illegal activities in the park.”
Cat turned and walked towards the trail head. “Sign in for me, then. Name’s Ruby Delacroix.”
“Excuse me, no,” the ranger said, speed-walking to catch up to her. “You have to show an ID.”
“Is there a law against hiking, now?”
“What kind of normal person hikes in the dark? Answer me that!”
“One who doesn’t like people.”
The ranger side stepped her and stood in front of the trail head sign, blocking her path. “ID, or I’m calling the police.”
“For hiking?”
“For refusing to comply, and suspicion of connection with illegal poaching activities.”
Cat really didn’t have time to deal with rent-a-cops, much less real ones. “Fine.” She pulled her license from the wallet in her pocket and flashed it. “Catriona Evans. Sign me in.”
“That’s not the same name you said a minute ago.”
“No, I just wanted you to leave me alone.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me,” the ranger said, hand on her radio, “to confirm this ID is genuine.”
“You people are completely off the mark, you know that, right?” Her skin itched, but there was no point in scratching.
“It won’t take long.”
Cat followed the ranger back to the information building. This is what she got for going in through the front gate. She’d sneak in where the poachers did, if she wasn’t afraid she’d get shot for it. The yellowed flu
orescent lights buzzed, and the silhouette of a dead fly flickered. Budget cuts, indeed. She thrust her ID at the ranger. “Here.”
“Take a seat, please.”
“I thought you said this wouldn’t take long.”
“It won’t. Fifteen, twenty minutes maybe.”
The sun had set already, and Cat was growing restless. The ranger was moving in slow motion, and Cat knew she couldn’t hold it in much longer. She shifted in her chair. “What if I just head out, and I’ll come back for my ID?”
“That’s silly. What if the ID was fake? You wouldn’t come back for it.”
“It’s not fake.”
“That’s what someone with a fake ID would say.” The ranger dialed a number on the old rotary phone. Why the hell did they still even have that in here? The molasses level slowness was worse than a medieval torture device. “Hello, I need to check an ID for veracity. Yes, it’s Catriona Evans.” The ranger turned and faced the wall. “No, that’s Catriona with a C.” She wound the cord around her finger. “No, it’s C as in cat, A as in… antelope, T as in… T-Rex…” she trailed off. “No, T-Rex like the dinosaur. Yes, like the movie! I loved it, saw it in theaters twice. Didn’t care for the man, though. No, I hadn’t heard there was a sequel!”
Cat groaned audibly. If this took much longer, she’d never finish her shift before sunrise. If it took much longer, she’d have a lot more questions to answer than just her name.
“Evans, you know, like it sounds. Yeah.” The ranger turned back to face her. “Petite, short, dark hair. No, she’s not wearing glasses - oh hang on, someone is trying to get through on the radio. I’ll call you right back.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Cat growled. “Obviously it’s not fake, can I go now?”
“Not until I confirm with the registry office,” the ranger said, grabbing at her radio. “Go for Dade.”
“We’ve got civilian reports on the back nine that a female is scaling the fence. Five foot ten or so, dark braid, camera bag.”
Andie, you adorable fucking fool, Cat thought, squirming in her chair. She couldn’t just let it go, stay safe at home, no, she had to come back, and not even through the gap in the fence. Amateur.
“On it, Officer,” the ranger replied, grabbing an extra set of handcuffs from the desk. “I’ll head out that way right now.” Clipping the radio back on her belt, she turned to Cat. “You, stay here until I get back, and we’ll get this ID problem sorted. Don’t go anywhere. If you do, you’ll be de facto banned permanently.”
Cat ground her teeth, the muscles in her thighs cramping. “You got it.”
The ranger got into an all-terrain-vehicle and sped off into the woods, swerving around the No Civilian Vehicles sign. Cat jumped off the chair as soon as the ranger was out of site and snatched her license and the paperwork from the clipboard. With any luck, the ranger wouldn’t remember her name. She couldn’t wait around any longer, she had a shift to do, and besides, her sister was waiting for her already on the east end of the park.
The information building door slammed behind her, and Cat tore off for the trail head, ignoring the shouts from the partiers in the nearby pitches. She didn’t care if they ratted her out to the ranger, she’d have much bigger problems if she stayed. Missing a shift was the worst thing she could do. The moon started to crest over the distant horizon, the tops of the trees still invisible in the darkness. The cold wind blew through her hair, and she felt alive. This is what the forest was supposed to be, wild and dangerous, not curated and manicured.
She paused at the trail fork, her feet sinking in the wet soil. The right fork would take her to her sister. The one straight ahead would take her to the back of the reserve, where the ranger had called the “back nine.” She sighed angrily. It was crystal clear that the development would be ripping out trees and paving them with sod for a goddamned golf course. Hesitating, she looked one way, and then another. She didn’t have much time left before the shift, and she could hear revelers heading her way. Time to go.
She knew this forest inside and out, backwards and forwards. Every shift felt like home, and she never wanted to leave. Cat clenched her jaw, and padded down the forward fork. Andie was going to get herself killed if she wasn’t careful.
CHAPTER FIVE
Andie crept through the woods, her flashlight on a dim setting, just enough to avoid stepping on any branches and snapping them. This time, she had her camera on the right settings, already attached to the tripod for a quick shot, if she could get one. No ranger was going to keep her from at least trying to get a good enough photo to enter, and under the cover of darkness, no one would even know she was there.
She stopped every few steps to listen for rustling that could be a bear, or Cat. If she could just make her way back to that clearing, maybe she’d find her SD card, or see the bear again, though hopefully at a distance. She was vaguely aware of the danger, but she also knew that you had to commit to big risks for great rewards in wildlife photography, especially if you didn’t have tens of thousands of dollars in telephoto lenses and the ability to travel to the big reserves or wild areas in other countries. This reserve was her only shot.
Near the clearing, she spotted a tree climb, a seat bolted high up in the tree that hunters often used. It would be a fantastic location to sit and wait for the bear to come back. Bears were creatures of habit, especially this time of year, and especially when it came to food. It’s why bear baiting had become such a problem in the larger parks. She frowned, worried that poachers were trying to bait her bear.
She climbed up the staples buried deep into the tree’s wood, and strapped herself into the seat, detaching the camera from the tripod. It would be too awkward to wield from this vantage point. She slipped the strap back over her shoulder and scanned the dark landscape as best she could, not having night vision goggles or any kind of superpowers. She waited. She checked her phone, (no messages), and turned it off, not wanting to scare any wildlife with an errant buzz or ringtone.
She waited.
The wind blew gently through the trees, waving the bare branches against the rising full moon. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, much too far to see. They were notoriously difficult to catch, unless you knew where they were nesting. In the summer, this area was rife with bats zig-zagging across sunset skies, but they were all hibernating now. Most of the birds had flown south, and there were fewer deer than in spring. Despite the park’s activity in the warmer months, Andie still hadn’t managed to capture something good enough to submit. It had to be impressive, something that would make people gasp. It had to be the bear.
The bright, cold light from the end of a flashlight danced through the woods, and Andie pulled her legs up to her chest to hide them from sight as best she could. She was grateful that she was wearing black overalls and a thick black hoodie, the best camouflage for nighttime shoots. She waited for the light to pass, but it just kept sweeping over the same places. Even from her height, Andie could see her own footprints in the mud. Fuck.
“Come on, I know you’re out there,” Ranger Dade called, rustling the bushes. “The sooner you come out and hand yourself in, the easier this will go.”
Andie held her breath.
“I don’t have all night, you know. If you make me call in another ranger, we’ll just go ahead and refer this to the police, and you’ll have to face criminal charges.” The ranger shuddered visibly. “Okay, here I go. I’m heading back, now. Calling the police. To arrest you.” Ranger Dade shook her head. “For fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath, before climbing back into her ATV. “I’ll be back!” she shouted into the darkness. “With police!”
As the vehicle rumbled away, Andie exhaled. That was too close. She wasn’t a rule-breaker by nature, and the near miss encounter had her blood pounding in her ears. Getting arrested was the last thing she needed right now. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should just climb back over the fence and head home, hope that she could capture the bear’s picture at first
light, when the reserve opened to non-camping members of the public. It would be easier to shoot with better light, anyway.
No.
She’d stay. One good shot and she’d finally have something to enter into the competition. If nothing else, she might be able to see where the bear was going. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, the thrill of the chase when what you were chasing could easily eat you for breakfast. She leaned back in the seat and squinted, scanning the leaf-covered ground, willing the bear to show itself, but there was nothing more than the quiet rustle of underbrush in the November wind.
“Looks like some deer came through here,” someone whispered, and a chill crawled up Andie’s spine. Poachers. “Rut marks. Betcha we can find them if we keep heading in this direction.” The metal of the rifle’s barrel glinted in the moonlight, and Andie swallowed hard. Cat had been right.
“Yeah,” the other one replied, looking through a night vision scope. “Did you check the trail cam?”
“Not yet.” The first one, dressed head to toe in black, stepped up to the base of the tree Andie was hiding in. She was sorely regretting not turning herself in to the ranger, now. At least the ranger didn’t have a gun. “Looks like a few came through here, a couple of bucks, too.”
“Nice.”
“Oh, shit - there’s a goddamn bear on this cam!”
The second one snorted back a laugh. “Fuck off, man, there’s no bears around here.”
“I’m serious, look! It passed through this way last night.”
He took the cam and inspected for himself. “Well I’ll be goddamned.” He sighed loudly. “The boss isn’t going to like this. I bet this thing is a protected species or some shit.”
Christmas, Pursued by a Bear Page 4