“Cat!” Andie called, waving through the arch of trees that lined the path, her pale cheeks already rosy from the cold.
“Hey, you ready?”
Andie held up her camera, already attached to an expensive looking tripod. “Hell yeah.”
“I don’t know why you’re so excited, we’re not going to see anything.”
“You never know.”
“If we run into anything out of the ordinary, it’s more likely to be poachers than a bear.”
Andie’s face faltered. “I hope we don’t see any poachers.”
“I’ve got a mean right hook, you’re safe with me.” It was the truth. Mostly.
“And if we do find a bear, are you going to punch that, too?”
Cat laughed. “Hell no. I’ll climb the nearest tree and hope it doesn’t eat your camera for dinner.” She sobered, pushing away the pine branches. “We won’t see any bears, though.”
“Do you want to bet on that?” Andie asked, stepping over the cut fence.
“Alright, Camera Girl, let’s make it interesting, then. What’s your wager?”
For a moment, the only sound was their boots crunching against freezing leaves. “A date.” Cat choked on her own saliva, and had to stop to cough up what felt like half a lung. For fuck’s sake, could she be any more awkward? Andie turned back, chewing her bottom lip. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cat replied, her voice coarse and her eyes watering. “A date, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” Andie said, covering her face. “I obviously misread things, and—”
“No, you’re on. If we see a bear, we go on a date.”
“You realize that we’re not leaving this reserve until I find one now, right?”
“We’ll see about that. Come on, let’s go.”
“And what if we don’t see one? What’s your wager?”
Cat climbed over a felled tree, the denim of her jeans scraping against the damp bark. “You convince Mara to make something other than coffee. I can’t stand that stuff.”
Andie burst out laughing. “I knew something was up earlier, you looked like you were holding a cup of nuclear waste.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Not in the photo. In that you’re… very convincing. You look like a genuine hipster.”
“Oh God, don’t tell me that,” Cat said with a snort. “It will ruin all of my credibility with the mainstream tea drinkers.”
“Mara already offers teas.”
“I don’t like tea, either.”
“Then what do you like?”
“It’s silly.”
“It can’t be that weird, just tell me.”
“Hot chocolate, the good stuff, and extra marshmallows.”
Andie squinted into the growing darkness. “I think the clearing is this way,” she said, shimmying between two close-growing trees. “What do you mean by ‘the good stuff?’”
“None of that boxed crap. It has to be the kind made slow, with real chocolate.”
“Well you’re a woman with taste, clearly.”
“Hey, you asked.”
“Alright, it’s a deal. No bears, I’ll see what I can do to talk Mara into making good hot chocolate. I’m warning you, though, that woman has a serious passion for coffee beans. It’s like an obsession. She never gives up on sourcing the best stuff available.”
“While I admire her dedication, I’m sorry to report that it all tastes like garbage water to me,” Cat said, drawing them back towards the path she knew led to the clearing.
“Are you sure you’re going the right way?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I did some research on the history of bears in this area, did you know that there were two grizzly bear sightings last year?”
Cat stopped dead in her tracks, her blood ice in her veins. “What?”
“Yeah, a couple people who came in to take pictures saw one near dawn, and the other time it was some teenagers smoking weed in some makeshift fort.”
“Bears.”
“Yeah, bears. Big ones, too, they reckon probably three hundred pounds.”
“Weird that no one would report on that.”
Andie shrugged, heading deeper into the forest. “Rangers deemed it an impossibility, no one followed up. But I’ve seen it. I know it’s here.”
“You realize bears can travel a long way for food? And wouldn’t most be hibernating?” Cat had to work hard to keep her tone even and casual.
“This is the only reserve big enough for a long ways, and people probably would have seen a huge bear wandering along the interstate. And they usually head in to hibernate in late November, so we’d be right on schedule to see one preparing.”
“Isn’t that when they’re most dangerous?”
“Yeah.”
“And you aren’t, I dunno, scared?”
“You should know something about me, Cat. I will probably die trying to pet something deadly because it’s cute.”
That might turn out to be true, if things went badly.
“Anyway,” Andie continued, “even if I just get an honorable mention in this wildlife photography competition, it could open a lot of doors for me. Funding. Equipment.”
“You seem like you have a lot of gear already.”
Andie shot her a look. “Are you kidding? This camera is already four years out of date. I barely have any decent zoom lenses, nothing like some of the professionals use—”
“Okay, okay. Clearly, I know nothing about photography equipment.”
“It’s okay, I don’t know anything about rare plants.”
“A knowledge of necessity. Sometimes cutting down a forest can be halted if you can prove there’s an endangered species there.” Cat kicked a rock across the path, and heard it bounce into the bushes. It was getting dark. “For a while, anyway. Until poachers or hired thugs come in and clear it out. No proof of habitation, no construction delay.”
“Hmm…” Andie mumbled.
“What?”
“Thinking.”
“About huge, man-eating bears?”
“If they’re man-eating, I think we’re safe, being women and all.”
“Very funny.”
Andie pushed her way into the small clearing and turned on her flashlight. “Don’t worry, I won’t quit my day job.”
“So how long are you prepared to wait for your bear?”
“All night.”
“Until dawn?”
“If I have to.”
“You know,” Cat said, “we could always abandon this mission and go get pancakes at that diner at the corner of—”
“I know you’re kidding, but this is important to me.”
“Alright, let’s wait for a bear.”
Andie sat on a felled log and arranged her tripod. “We should probably stay quiet.”
Cat mimed zipping her lips and joined her on the log. It was going to be a long night. Maybe once the sun rose, she could convince Andie to go get some breakfast. Her stomach growled at the thought, and she cursed herself for not packing a goddamn snack. Being hungry made her feel on edge.
“Here,” Andie whispered, handing over a brownie in plastic wrap. “You can eat this.”
“You brought food?”
“Please, it’s not my first stakeout. I once spent almost an entire week trying to capture a long-eared bat.” Andie examined the settings on her camera. “Besides, I saw you eat all my food the first night I met you, I know to come prepared.”
Cat bit into the brownie, and it was the best thing she’d ever eaten this deep into the forest. Deep, fudgy, the perfect texture, moist, she could eat a whole tray of them, if left unsupervised. “Did you want any?” she asked, eyeing up the last bite.
“No.”
“Are you sure—”
“Shh.”
Someone was approaching, someone quiet. Trained to be quiet. Cat’s breath slowed, and she focused on where it was coming from. Poachers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
; Panic gripped the base of Andie’s skull, her innate fight-or-flight instincts grappling for superiority. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. Beside her, Cat nodded. Poachers, she mouthed. Andie turned off her flashlight and set the camera to record. This time, she’d get them on camera.
The footsteps approached carefully, barely audible over the sound of the wind whistling through the trees. With each step came a pause, just long enough that she’d start to question if she’d even heard anything at all. They came closer, just to the other side of the copse that lined the clearing. Andie squinted into the darkness and found herself reaching for Cat’s hand, but it wasn’t there.
“Don’t move,” Cat hissed, moving silently to the center of the clearing.
“Wait—”
“I mean it.”
Andie stood, keeping one hand looped through the camera strap. If she had to run again, she didn’t want to lose her camera.
A small bear, much scrawnier than the other one she’d seen, wandered into the moonlight, heading straight for Cat. Wanting to scream a warning, Andie’s breath caught in her throat, and none of her limbs would cooperate. Fear coursed through her veins like poison.
“Who are you?” Cat demanded, staring down the bear, hands on her hips. “Don’t piss me off.”
Why the hell is she talking to a bear? She’s going to get herself killed, Andie thought, shaking her head to wake up from the dream. She positioned the camera, but Cat was standing in front of the bear, blocking the shot.
“Get out of here. Don’t come back.”
The bear roared, but instead of sounding threatening, it just sounded kind of sad. It approached Cat and laid down on the ground, its face in the dirt.
“What in the f—” Cat said, before dodging out of the way of a huge dart. “Andie!” she shouted. “Poachers!”
Andie leaped up off the felled tree and snatched at the camera, collapsing the tripod legs as she ran. She wished she had a stabilizer, this footage was going to be a mess. She zoomed into the gaps between the trees, hunting for faces amid the sparse foliage.
“There!” Cat shouted, pushing the bear that didn’t want to move, pointing to the other side.
Andie spun, looking for the poacher. She caught the flash of a gun barrel, and behind it, a black mask and a knitted hat. Zooming in, she held the camera as still as she could in her trembling hands. It would be a miracle if any of this footage was usable. She glanced over her shoulder, and Cat was still pushing the motionless bear. “Cat! It’s been tranquilized!” Despite the darkness, a large, silver needle glinted, protruding from the bear’s leg.
The muzzle of the gun flashed, and Andie dropped to the ground, rolling back into the bushes. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, her fingers searching for the camera. It was their only chance at catching these assholes on film - her phone was seven years old, and the lens had been cracked for three. Every spare cent she made went towards her gear.
“Fuck off!” Cat shouted, standing in front of the sleeping bear, guarding it. “Leave her alone!”
“We don’t want to hurt it,” the masked man said, loading another round into the rifle. “This reserve isn’t big enough for a bear. We’re relocating it.”
“The hell you are.”
“Listen, lady, just back away, alright? We’ve got jobs to do.”
Cat stood firm, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I’m warning you. Back off.”
The man laughed. “What are you going to do, slap us?”
“Prick,” Andie muttered under her breath, her fingers closing around the camera strap and pulling it to her chest. She pressed the record button. The man was small in the frame, as though he wasn’t nearly six feet tall, dwarfing Cat’s small stature.
He waved her away again. “This bear is staying right here until you can produce the wildlife trust paperwork that affirms what you’re doing here.”
“You’re trying my patience.”
“And you’re pissing me off. There are poachers crawling all over these woods nowadays, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you cart off a bear without the proper authorization.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do, a ranger?” he scoffed. “Move away from the bear.”
Another man stepped into the clearing, the same as the night before. Andie stifled a gasp. “Come on, man, the transport is waiting. What the hell are you waiting for?”
“She’s in the way!” the first man protested, gesturing at Cat. “I’m not about to shoot a human, even if it is just a tranq.”
“I don’t give a shit about this hippie tree-hugger bullcrap. Shoot her and let’s go.”
Cat dropped her jacket to the ground. “This is your last warning to get the hell out of here before things get ugly.”
“Fuck this,” the man said, and raised the rifle to his shoulder. Andie leaped out of the bushes and caught him around the knees, sending the gun flying into the darkness.
“Another one!” the second man said, kicking her square in the stomach. Pain exploded through her body, her lungs useless and breathless. She rolled over, clutching her torso, moaning in pain. At least the camera was still recording, the tiny, blinking red dot flashing behind the foliage.
“Grab its legs,” the first one said, shoving Cat out of the way. “It’s a scrawny one, and not far to the truck.”
Andie’s vision was clouded with pain, but when Cat bent double, fur sprouting from every inch of bare skin, she knew she wasn’t seeing things, but she pinched herself just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. In the dim light of the moon, Cat’s shirt and jeans popped at the seams as she grew exponentially in size, her face lengthening into a snout until she was a full-sized grizzly, roaring into the faces of the terrified men. She swiped at one, and then the other, her dangerous claws drawing blood beneath their insufficient tactical gear. They screamed. The bear bellowed, tossing them around like rag dolls, throwing one into the trunk of an old tree, and the other into the bushes.
One of the masked men reached for the tranquilizer gun, but Andie kicked it out of his reach, her boot connecting with his kneecap. He grunted and grabbed for it again. This time the bear - Cat? - ripped at his clothing, threatening to sink her teeth into the meat of his arm.
“Call for backup!” the one in the bushes yelled. “They never said there’d be two bears out here!”
“Get to the truck! It’s gonna kill us both!”
The bear roared again, sending threatening echoes around the cold, dark forest. The men stumbled, and ran, the bear screaming after them until their footsteps had faded down the path.
“Cat?” Andie asked cautiously.
The bear crashed into the bushes, out of sight, its huge paws heavy on the crispy, iced leaves on the ground of the park.
“Hey, be careful—”
The crunch of the glass made Andie feel even sicker than the boot to the guts. She knew that it was her camera, crushed beneath the immense weight of the grizzly. No amount of money would be able to cover the repairs on smashed lenses and mirrors. It would be a write off. “Hey,” she repeated sadly.
In the quiet, the sound of the shift was clearer - bones popping the way they would during an intense pilates session, and the soft ripple of fur on skin. “Cat?”
“Check on that bear, see if she’s alright.”
“Is she—like you?”
“Yeah.”
Andie knelt over the unconscious bear, one arm still clutching her stomach. “It’s breathing. I think it’s just sleeping.”
“Can you toss me something to put on? It’s cold.”
“Um…” The clothes were all but torn to shreds, ripped apart by the bear’s expansion. “Here,” she said, tossing her own coat into the brush. “I think your stuff is ruined.”
“Fuck. See, this is why I don’t wear stuff I like into this damn reserve. What about my jeans?”
“I don’t know how salvageable they are.”
“Well I can’t exactly go walking around half nake
d!”
“There’s something hanging from a tree over here—”
Cat rustled in the bushes. “Probably this bear’s cache. Grab it.”
“Uh, pair of sneakers, a sports bra… here we go, sweatpants.” She tossed them into the bushes, along with the shoes. She hadn’t seen where Cat’s went. “What about the bear?”
“She’ll stay like this until she wakes up. We need to get her out of here, before those fucks come back.” Cat squinted in the dark. “Where’s your camera?”
“You, uh…” Andie bent and retrieved the camera, confirming her worst fears. It was completely and totally ruined, spider-webbed cracks across the lens, which had separated from the body, leaving behind a shattered screen and electrics severed from the rest of it. She shoved the pieces into her bag, which was still secured across her torso.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see it, I’m not that… aware, when I’m shifted.”
“It’s okay,” Andie said in a small voice, even though it very much was not okay. “Let’s get the bear somewhere safe.”
“We’ll take her to my house, we can sneak her in under a tarp.”
“What if your landlord sees?”
Cat snorted, tying the shoelaces of the borrowed sneakers. “What’s he gonna do, keep my security deposit? I’m pretty sure he decided on that the day we moved in.”
“Might charge you pet rent.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him, to be honest.” Cat patted the bear gently on the head. “I hope you’re strong, Andie. Grab her feet, I bet we can gently drag her to the gap in the fence.”
“Then what?”
“I’m texting my sister to bring the truck down. She’ll understand.”
Even as a small, underweight bear, it was almost too much weight for the both of them to shift. Sleeping bears weren’t exactly cooperative, so when two young guys bounded down the path and grabbed a paw each, she was grateful - especially when she recognized one of them as Luke, a barista at Jazzy Java.
“We live with Cat,” one of them explained. He looked sideways. “Does she know?”
Cat nodded solemnly. “It couldn’t be helped, those poachers were about to take this bear.”
“Shit,” Luke said. “Never thought you’d be the one to break the cardinal rule.” He nodded at the sleeping bear they were all carrying. “Do we know her?”
Christmas, Pursued by a Bear Page 6