by Stuart Gibbs
With that, Erica actually seemed to get through to her father. He lowered his eyes in shame and fell into an embarrassed silence.
On the other hand, Erica’s assessment of the situation startled me into speaking up. “We don’t have any weapons?”
Erica shook her head. “Not a one.”
“You don’t have anything hidden away somewhere?” I asked. “Maybe a vial of poison in your utility belt?”
“My utility belt got snagged on a rock in the rapids. I had to jettison it, or I would have drowned.” Erica seemed more upset about this than the fact that we were lost in the wilderness with enemy agents hunting us. “Grandpa gave me that utility belt for my twelfth birthday. It had everything in it: my phone, food rations, Chinese throwing stars . . .”
“But you at least have a plan, don’t you?” I asked hopefully. “You always have a plan.”
“Of course I have a plan,” Erica said.
“What is it?”
“Try to get back to civilization without SPYDER capturing or killing any of us.”
I waited for more to come, but nothing did. “Um . . . Could you possibly elaborate on that?”
Erica shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got so far. I haven’t had much time to work things out, what with jumping off the bridge and nearly getting drowned and all.”
It was taking every ounce of will I had not to freak out. The situation was as dire as any I’d ever been in.
The ground began to rise sharply ahead of us. The thick forest quickly gave way to a steep, rocky face. Erica continued toward it without another word.
“Wait,” I said, recalling the brief survival training I’d had on the bus. “Why are we leaving the river? If anyone comes looking for us, won’t they look there?”
“That’d be the best course of action in normal circumstances,” Erica said. “Unfortunately, the people most likely to come looking for us are SPYDER.”
“Then shouldn’t we at least be heading downstream?” I ventured. “That’d be the fastest way to civilization.”
“True. But SPYDER knows that as well,” Erica explained. “Their first reaction will be to cut off that escape route, so we’re going to trick them by doubling back the way we came.”
“Hold on,” Alexander said. “SPYDER’s too crafty for this to work. They’ll probably expect us to double back. So what we should really do is double double back and go downstream.”
“I thought we’d established that I’m in charge,” Erica said. “And double doubling back is moronic. We’re going this way.”
“No,” Alexander said firmly. “As discussed, that decision to place you in charge was made under duress. Now, I may have made some mistakes today, but that does not preclude the fact that I am an elite, highly decorated professional spy who has won the Medal of Freedom four times for my work. And furthermore, I am your father. So you had best listen to me here. The organization we are up against is conniving, unconscionable, and extremely dangerous. Heading deeper into the wilderness as part of some guessing game with them is a terrible mistake. So I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, we are turning around right now.”
With that, he wheeled around and started back into the woods, expecting us to follow.
“Dad!” Erica called. “Wait! There’s another reason we’re headed this way!”
“Oh, really?” Alexander asked. “And what would that be?”
“The bears that are following us.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Alexander snapped. “There are no bears in this part of the country.”
A loud, angry growl echoed through the trees. A large bear emerged from the forest only a few feet away from Alexander. Then two more appeared behind it.
Alexander went as pale as a dead fish.
Erica sighed. “Don’t you ever get tired of being wrong?” she asked.
LARGE, DANGEROUS BEASTS
Shenandoah National Wilderness
June 14
1210 hours
The bears were black bears. I’d read about them and seen a few in zoos, but I’d never encountered one in the wild. I dimly remembered some National Geographic article claiming that black bears generally weren’t aggressive or dangerous—unless you ran into a mother with cubs.
The three bears facing us were a mother with cubs. The cubs weren’t cute little balls of fluff, however. Each was now a teenager (at least in bear years). Though none of them was as huge as a grizzly, they were all at least three hundred pounds and armed with sharp teeth and long claws capable of doing serious damage. In addition, their guard was up, like we’d threatened them somehow. They sized us up warily, as if trying to determine whether or not they should attack us.
Alexander backed toward Erica and me, trying to remain calm. “Don’t worry,” he said, although his voice was quavering with fear. “I know exactly what to do in this situation. On the count of three, everyone run as fast as you can.”
“You don’t run from bears!” Erica hissed under her breath. “We need to hold our ground and back away slowly.”
“Back away slowly?” Alexander echoed. “We’re not trying to escape turtles here. How is moving slowly better than moving quickly?”
“Because running will provoke their attack response,” Erica explained. “And you can’t run faster than a bear.”
“Of course I can,” Alexander sniffed. “Where on earth did you ever hear that garbage?”
“The CIA agents’ manual,” Erica replied.
Alexander couldn’t quite hide his surprise. “There’s a section on bears in the CIA agents’ manual?”
“There’s a section on everything in the CIA agents’ manual,” Erica told him. “I’m not surprised you haven’t read it, though. There’s a lot of big words in it.”
The bears were getting closer, the mother in front of the cubs. She was growling angrily, although she slowed as she neared us.
“Okay now,” Erica told us. “Like I said, stay calm and back away nice and slow.”
“And what do we do if they come after us?” I whispered.
“First we try to fight them off—and if that doesn’t work, we play dead.”
“Play dead?” Alexander asked. “That can’t be right.”
“Could you keep your voice down?” Erica asked. “It’s agitating the bears.”
“The bears are already agitated,” Alexander protested. “And if we play dead, we’re just going to look like a buffet to them. We need to run. Now. Before they get much closer.”
“Dad,” Erica pleaded. “For once in your life, please listen to me. . . .”
Before she could finish, the mother bear growled at us. Alexander cracked. “Stay away from us!” he shouted and bolted away.
The bears instinctively took off after him.
“What a pinhead,” Erica muttered. Then she grabbed a rock off the ground and chased after them all.
I did the same as Erica, because my instinct was to follow her lead. It wasn’t until a good three seconds later that it occurred to me that chasing after three angry bears was possibly even dumber than running away from them.
Erica was unfazed by any such thoughts, however. Not only did she pursue the bears, she actually tried to get their attention. “Hey!” she shouted. “Leave him alone!”
Meanwhile, Alexander was shouting at the bears as well. “Sit!” he ordered them, as if perhaps hoping they were trained bears who had escaped from a circus. “Stay! Bad bears! Bad bears!”
As Erica had warned, he couldn’t outrun them. Soon, they were nipping at his heels. Unfortunately, Alexander forgot step one—try to fight them off—and went right for step two: play dead. He dropped to the ground so quickly that the mother bear actually tripped over him, like he was a human speed bump.
Her cubs were on him in a second. I hate to think what they might have done to him if Erica hadn’t arrived and beaned one of them behind the ear with her rock.
I threw mine as well, because I wanted to appear helpful in front of Erica. I
t glanced off the other cub’s thigh and hit Alexander in the shoulder.
“Owww!” he wailed, and then remembered he was supposed to be dead.
The bears all wheeled toward Erica and me, as though surprised we’d been dumb enough to come after them.
Erica grabbed some more rocks off the ground and threw them. “Get out of here!” she yelled. “Or I’ll make rugs out of all three of you!”
The bears didn’t seem particularly bothered by the rocks, which bounced off their thick hides like baseballs thrown against a wall. They did, however, seem taken aback by Erica. They stared at her in confusion, apparently trying to deduce whether she was a legitimate threat or a harmless lunatic.
I threw a few more rocks as well, though I let Erica do the shouting for the both of us.
“Go on!” she ordered them. “Don’t make me come after you!”
The mother bear stopped sniffing around Alexander and reared back on her hind legs, displaying her impressive muscles, claws, and teeth. She gave a roar that rattled the trees.
At her feet, Alexander trembled so violently in fear that it looked like he was experiencing his own personal earthquake.
Personally, I leapt a good five feet backward, stumbled over a log, and went down on my bottom.
But Erica stood her ground. She fixed the mother bear with a hard stare and roared right back at her. It wasn’t quite as loud as the mother bear’s roar, but it was actually more frightening. I hadn’t known until that moment that the human body could make a noise like that.
The cubs scurried away, terrified, and cowered behind their mother.
Momma Bear cocked her head at Erica, curious, then seemed to bow in respect. She dropped back to all fours, turned away and shambled into the forest. Her children obediently followed.
I snapped to my feet before Erica could see that I’d fallen. “Holy cow,” I said. “Did you learn that from the CIA manual?”
“No,” Erica said. “I came up with that myself. I figure, bears can’t be that different from humans. If you show fear, they get confidence. But if you act confident, they get scared.” With that, she approached her father, who was still lying on the ground, trying to look dead. “They’re gone, Dad. You don’t have to play dead anymore.”
Alexander kept his eyes closed and tried to speak without moving his lips. “Are you sure? They might come back again.”
“I don’t think they want anything more to do with Erica,” I offered.
Alexander sat up. The bears had slashed open his clothes here and there, but he’d escaped the attack with only a few minor scratches and a good amount of bear drool in his hair. He looked to Erica, at once respectful of her and ashamed of himself. “Thank you,” he said. “If it hadn’t been for you . . . Well, apparently, you’re right about me. I really am a complete and utter screwup.”
“Oh, that’s not completely true,” Erica said. “You were quite good at playing dead.”
“I was?” Alexander asked.
“Yes,” Erica replied. “Though I suppose it wasn’t much of a stretch. After all, your brain’s been dead for years.”
Alexander sagged, even more ashamed than before. It was shocking to see how the man who had once represented all that was wonderful and glorious about espionage to me could now look so pitiful after a dressing down by his own daughter.
If this had been a heartfelt family movie, Erica and Alexander would have bonded over the near-death experience, with Erica suddenly realizing how sad she’d be if her father had died and Alexander learning a valuable lesson about honesty from his daughter. Instead, Erica had used the event to finally drive home to her father how little she actually thought of him—and she seemed pleased by the result. A slight smirk formed on her lips as she started back up the rocky slope again.
I followed her. It was quite clear that she was the only one of the three of us who had the slightest idea how to survive in the wilderness.
Alexander had obviously grasped this as well. He took up the rear, picking his way up the hill behind us, although his mood was so sullen and dour, I found myself worrying about him.
The climb was arduous—or at least it was for Alexander and me. Erica moved up the rock face with startling ease. She almost seemed to be having fun. I moved faster than Alexander, though. This was partly because I was in better shape—I’d spent a lot of time in the gym over the past few months—and partly because he seemed too miserable to care.
When I finally got to the top of the cliff, muscles aching, I found Erica lounging under the cover of a small tree, munching on some mushrooms she’d foraged. She offered a handful to me. “Fungus?”
I’d been so preoccupied with trying not to die in various ways over the past hour, I’d forgotten all about eating. I’d never been a fan of mushrooms before, but now my stomach grumbled hungrily at the sight of them. “Thanks,” I said, and wolfed them down. They were surprisingly delicious. “Are there any more?”
“Not around here,” Erica said. “But I’m sure we’ll find more along the way.” She patted the ground next to her, indicating I ought to sit down and rest.
Before joining her, I peered back over the lip of the rock face. Alexander was still fifty yards below. “Did you save any mushrooms for your father?” I asked.
“No. He’s spent my whole life telling me how great he is at everything. I figure he can find his own.”
I sat in the small bit of shade beside Erica and was instantly aware that I reeked of sweat and body odor. She, on the other hand, smelled fantastic. Like she’d just been on a tour of a perfume factory. “I think your father could use a bit of encouragement,” I said.
“Feel free to give it to him.”
“I meant from you.”
Erica fixed me with one of her patented icy stares.
“Why are you so angry at him?” I asked.
Erica flinched as though I’d just stuck my finger in a fresh wound. She turned away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I knew better than to keep prying. If Erica didn’t want to tell you something, she wasn’t going to tell you. She had the best grades in the class in Intro to Withstanding Torture. So I changed the subject. “Do you have any idea where we’re going?”
“I have more than an idea. I know exactly where we’re going.”
“Even without a global positioning system?”
“People managed to survive for a long time in the wilderness without GPS. They used these things called ‘maps.’ ”
“Ha ha. There’s a slight problem with us using maps right now.”
“What?”
“We don’t have any.”
Erica turned back to me. “Well, we don’t have any physical maps. But we do have some mental ones.” She tapped her head. “When I heard we were coming out here, I grabbed every map of the area I could find. Spy camp has quite a cache of them.”
“You left them on the bus?” I asked.
Erica nodded. “I didn’t exactly have time to pack during the ambush. Luckily, I spent a good amount of time poring over them on the way here. So I have a pretty good idea of the terrain. From what I can tell, we’re on the eastern ridge of Mount Sukoff. There ought to be an abandoned fire tower a mile and a half that way.” She pointed to the west.
I looked at her curiously. “You can remember the map that accurately?”
“Why do you seem so surprised? As I recall, you have an extremely strong memory as well.”
“Only for numbers. This is different. Do you have a photographic memory?”
“I think the correct term is ‘perfect recall.’ And no, I don’t. It’s more like yours. I can’t remember everything I see. Just certain things.”
“Like what?”
“Maps. Photos. Books.”
“You can remember entire books?”
Erica looked at me curiously. “You can’t?”
“No!”
“Bummer. It sure makes studying for tests easier.”
I stared at Erica for
a moment. It shouldn’t have been any surprise that her memory was so strong. It explained how she was able to know so much and be so sure of herself all the time. And yet, I somehow hadn’t put it together.
With a gasp, Alexander emerged over the lip of the cliff. He rolled onto the horizontal ground and lay there panting like a dog on a hot day.
“It’s about time you got here,” Erica said. “C’mon. No time to dillydally. We still have a lot of ground to cover.” She snapped to her feet, looking completely refreshed after her rest and snack, and started across the ridge.
Alexander groaned. “Please. Just give me five minutes to rest.”
“We’ve already squandered enough time,” Erica told him. “Every minute we waste is a minute SPYDER gets closer to us. If you want to lie there in the open with enemy snipers about, that’s your decision, but we’re moving on.”
At the mention of enemy snipers, Alexander jumped up. Despite his exhaustion, he quickly caught up to us.
I was still pretty tired from the climb myself and all the other exertion of the day, but I fought through it and stuck close to Erica. For the most part, there was thick tree cover along the ridge—although there were also a number of open, exposed areas we had to hurry across. Luckily, we didn’t see anyone from SPYDER along the way . . . and, more important, they didn’t see us.
“How many of them do you think there are out here?” I asked Erica after crossing one barren patch.
“I have no idea,” she admitted. “The fact is, we know virtually nothing about SPYDER: how big an organization it is, how much money they have, how many men they can spare for an operation like this. Do they use their own men—or do they contract out? Who do they work for? Who runs it? How long has it been around? All giant question marks.”
“Doesn’t the CIA have some sort of expert on SPYDER?” I asked.
“Yes,” Erica replied. “You.”
My step faltered. “Me? How could I be the expert? I’ve only had one conversation with a SPYDER agent . . .”
“Which is one more conversation than anyone else at the CIA has had. Virtually everything the CIA knows about SPYDER is what Murray told you. Everything else is mere speculation. In fact, that conversation was the first direct evidence the CIA ever had that SPYDER even existed.”