Honey for the Bears
Page 9
“That’s completely ludicrous!” shouted Miss Hopkins. “Mrs. MacDonald hasn’t done anything to anyone. She loves the people and animals of the valley. She has for her entire life. What are you talking about Mr. Walters?”
Ignoring her he continued, “And leading me off on that tangent about your son. That was really clever…”
“My son? What has he done? Is he in trouble?” the old lady asked.
“Oh come on Mrs. MacDonald! We all know that you know that your son is dead. He has been for ten years. No one is buying your feeble mindedness any longer!”
“Dead!?!” she shrieked. She then pointed towards her television and said, “If that’s true, then what is he doing on TV?”
The maid leaned in and said, “Mrs. MacDonald, that’s your grandson, Harlon. That’s a tape of him doing his news reports. Your son is dead. Remember?”
Crinkles of confusion washed over the old lady’s face, “Harlon? Wait, that’s not my boy on TV? Are you sure that isn’t my son? Well… I… I don’t understand. He looks like my boy.” She mumbled something else that no one could understand.
“Are you satisfied Mr. Walters?” the maid said.
Brock furrowed his brow and looked towards Honey.
Honey looked down toward the floor and then reached over and placed her hand gently on the maid’s shoulder. It was obvious to both Brock and Honey that what Miss Hopkins had said was true.
Mrs. MacDonald’s mind was… going, if not already gone.
“Look… I… I’m sorry Mrs. MacDonald. I am so sorry…” Brock said. “I apologize for the intrusion Miss Hopkins. Let’s go Honey, there’s someone we need to find.”
They exited the room and headed down the long hallway towards the front door of the house.
As they walked, Brock said, “I should have known it was him all along. He was everywhere, exactly when the crimes occurred! How could I not have seen it?”
They had just about reached the front door, when a voice came from their left.
“Going somewhere?”
They turned to see Harlon standing there. Shaman Powekah stood in front of him. One of Harlon’s arms was around the shaman’s neck, the other behind his back.
“Sooo, figured it out I see?” Harlon said with a smug tone.
Honey sensed that Brock might try to shift. Instinctively, she grabbed him by the upper arm. “Brock, don’t…”
“Yes, Brock… You should heed the advice of your… friend.”
“Fuck you, Harlon. You little worm. I ought to tear you limb from limb. Using your grandmother like that… You are real scum.”
“Go on…” Harlon dared as he tightened his grip around the shaman’s neck. “Do it.”
Brock’s breathing became more labored.
Honey could feel his willpower crumbling right before her eyes. She knew the stress he’d been under was more than most anyone could have bared. Not only was he burdened with the protection of all his own kind, not to mention the other shifters, but also the entire human community.
“No.” Brock said. “The law will deal with you.”
Harlon let out a deep laugh. “The law? You can’t be serious, Brock. What is the law going to do an innocent man?”
“Innocent my ass!” Honey yelled.
“Fine, where is your proof? Show me the evidence…”
Brock grimaced and shook his head.
“That’s right isn’t it? You don’t have any. Do you?” Harlon chided.
Honey spoke up. “You’re right Harlon. We don’t have any evidence but so what? There’s no way your grandmother will ever give you this land. Not after what you’ve done.”
“I’m her only living heir. She won’t have any choice in the matter. State law will decree that the land is mine.”
“That’s true Harlon. Unless of course you are convicted and sentenced to prison for what you’ve done.” Brock said.
He laughed. “You fools… Who is going to believe you? You are freak of nature Brock, a half breed monstrosity. Why would anyone take your word over mine?”
Brock replied, “No one would. But, why go to such an extent? Why not just wait for your grandmother to die? Why kidnap the shaman, endanger the bears and everything else?”
“Oh, that’s quite simple. With the land cursed, the tribe would be unable to claim it but… you already knew that didn’t you? And, the only one that can remove the curse is another shaman, of which there aren’t any except this one…” Harlon tightened his grip around the man’s neck. “…right here.”
“Why would he agree to curse the land for you?” Honey asked.
A crooked smile came over Harlon’s face. “Everyone knows that the shaman here has a bit of a… gambling problem. Isn’t that right your holiness? He lost everything because of it. In exchange for the curse, I agreed to pay him a seven figure sum once the land was mine. Everyone has their price you see. Unfortunately for him, his greed will cost him dearly.”
“What about the bear attacks?” Brock said.
“Those were easy enough to fake… A few bits of raw meat littered around a campsite long after the evening’s fires had been extinguished. That’s all it took. One thing lead to another and before long, there’s a bear panic.”
He then looked directly at Brock and with a condescending tone said, “You bears are all the same. Food and sex. Simple creatures really. After all, how do you think I killed your bitch of a sister so easily?”
“What!!!!” Brock roared. It looked as if he was about to explode right there on the spot.
“Brock, no!” Honey pleaded.
“Do it, fucker…” Harlon said. “Nothing would make me happier than to kill another one of you filthy beasts…”
Brock’s rage took him right to the edge but somehow, he managed to contain his bear. Honey had no idea how he’d restrained it, but at least for another moment, he had.
Harlon laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Soon, with you and the rest of the half breeds out of the way, there will be nothing stopping me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Harlon…” Honey said as she reached down into her ample cleavage. She fished around for a moment and produced the still running recorder. “I think that any court would find the evidence on this quite… compelling.”
Harlon chuckled and then pulled out a pistol from behind the shaman’s back. It was Brock’s gun. Harlon must have stolen it from the truck.
“How about this? I’ll just kill you both right now and take that from you. What do you think about that you sneaky little bitch?”
“And the maid? What about her?” Honey asked.
“If she won’t cooperate, I’ll deal with her as well.” A horrifying grin came across Harlon’s face as he raised the pistol in their direction.
“I kill all of you with Brock’s gun, leave it in his hand and I’m the hero that saved my grandmother from certain death. I’m finished with this conversation. Good riddance… freaks.”
In a flash, he squeezed the trigger and… nothing happened… then again… and again and again. Each time only hollow clicks echoed in the chamber.
“Shit!” he exclaimed.
“Whooooops… What’s the matter, Harlon? No bullets? Check under the front seat next time… you jackass.” Brock growled as he began to walk slowly towards him.
As Brock neared, Harlon’s face turned ashen white. He turned to try and escape but Brock snatched him with ease and pinned him to the ground. The shaman broke free and collapsed into nearby chair.
Brock wrapped his massive hands around Harlon’s throat. “Honey, go out the truck and call the sheriff. I believe we officially have a criminal investigation on our hands.”
Honey pressed stop on the recorder.
***
In the weeks following Harlon’s arrest, Honey and Brock had fallen deeply in love. It was impossible for Honey to imagine that she could have been much happier than she was.
And, it seemed as if their relationship did not go
unnoticed by both shifters and humans alike. Before long, even Honey’s roommates were living on the wild side. Leo and Teresa were a given – Honey had known that from the very beginning.
Since then however, Quinn, the alpha of the wolf clan and Albondiel, leader of the mountain lion pride, had taken a keen interest in Honey’s other roommates – Evelyn and Kimberly, respectively.
As it turns out, the shifters felt safe in finally revealing themselves to the humans of Troubled Fork. Since Brock had saved the shaman, he was able to reverse the curse and restore the ownership of the land to the tribe – just as Mrs. MacDonald had desired. In exchange, the shifters were supported and welcomed by the tribe and in turn, by much of Troubled Fork.
For as is so often the case in life, imagined consequences are seldom as dire as the final outcomes. By and large, the humans accepted the idea of the shifters but like anything else it was going to take some time. That was just fine with Brock because at last he felt as if he could live as a free man and… true bear.
As for Harlon, well, he was in the hands of the law now and that was a lucky thing for him. Whatever fate awaited him in the courtroom was far less punitive that what a community full of angry shifters was prepared to dish out.
Now only one thing remained…
It turned out that Brock had been correct about the Indian legend. Shaman Powekah combed through hundreds of years of tribal relics and unearthed what was believed to be the Ritual of the Claw. As far as anyone knew, it had not been performed in hundreds of years… at least.
There were no guarantees that it would work but stakes were as high as they could be – not only for Brock and Honey, but for all of the burgeoning human-shifter relationships in the Fork.
When the evening of the ceremony finally arrived, Brock and Honey sat quietly, but nervously, gazing up at the stars. The night sky in Troubled Fork made Honey feel as if she were in space itself. It was almost as if she could reach up and grab a handful of the celestial candles and hold them in the palm of her hand.
In the distance, a large bonfire burned. Rhythmic drums and ancient Pompowee tribal chants echoed in throughout the box canyon.
Brock turned to Honey. “Well, are you ready?”
Honey nodded.
The pair stood up, dusted themselves off and began to walk towards the fire and… in all likelihood, their destiny. As they walked, Honey turned to Brock and joked, “We had better hope this works or there will be some big problems around here.”
Brock laughed. “It will… After all, what could possibly go wrong?”
***
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