Grizzly Survival

by Becca Jameson

  But he was also needed. There was no way for him to escape the path he was on. And he couldn’t take Gavin with him on that journey. It would tear him up.

  George stepped closer. “Can I just say one thing?”

  “What?”

  “No one on the council is going to bother you, Gavin. We’d like to be able to debrief you and make sure you understand everything that happened at that cabin, but your memories are not in jeopardy.”

  Gavin nodded as he slid his helmet on and swung his leg over his bike. He started the engine, the roar loud enough to prevent George from commenting further.

  It was probably for the best. After all, how long could he and Dale have played house with so many things stacked against them? Weeks? Months? The fact that they didn’t belong to the same species would tear them apart in the long run. They could pretend it was okay for a while but not forever.

  Gavin swung his bike around and peeled down the long gravel drive toward the road. Instead of taking a turn toward Silvertip, he decided to pull out in the other direction, heading north, away from the city, away from people, away from shifters, away from his problems.

  He drove too fast. He didn’t care. The wind against his cheeks was welcoming. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and his leather jacket.

  Riding had always been freeing to him. Half the reason he’d bought the motorcycle was to escape the world every day for whatever time he was on it. While he was riding, he didn’t have to be someone else. He was just Gavin. A young gay man. Someone with a passion for literature. For however long it took him to get where he was going, he could pretend he was on the outside exactly the person he was on the inside.

  This afternoon was no different. Except everything was different.

  He wasn’t the same person he’d been a week ago. He was a new man with far more experiences and knowledge. He had to add to his truths. He was a submissive. He was strong. He was in love.

  He gritted his teeth, shaking that last thought away. Love wasn’t everything. Sometimes it did not conquer all. Not this time.

  He veered to the right slightly to enter another road toward the north. The road stretched long and straight in front of him. Perfect. He could let his mind wander and not have to worry about keeping a close eye on cars going past him or coming toward him.

  He drove for over an hour before his body demanded a break. He’d been so stiff that his arms and legs were sore. He needed to stretch, find a restroom, and get something to drink. At the next exit, he slowed and turned right. He had to drive a few windy miles to get to the nearest small town, but he finally found a gas station with a minimart and pulled in.

  After using the bathroom and paying for a bottle of water, he stepped back outside and walked around the side of the building to stretch his legs and steady his shaking hands.

  He had no idea what to do next. He couldn’t run from his life forever. He had come to Silvertip with Paige as a friend. A cohort. As her boyfriend. He chuckled as if the farce were ancient history instead of just a few days old. It felt good to laugh even if to himself.

  He still had a thesis to write, but he had all summer. And actually, if life got in the way, he could always extend his self-imposed deadline. Teach a few classes again next semester. There were no rules that said his thesis had to be turned in by the end of August. He’d simply set that goal as a date when he would begin the rest of his life—as an actual adult.

  Doing what? He wasn’t sure yet. He had options. Teaching was one, but the idea had never been too appealing to him. He could continue his education, work on his doctorate while working for a university in some capacity. He’d considered writing a novel, but the task seemed daunting, and he would have no way to support himself if he sequestered himself in his home office for a year to write.

  For now, he needed to stop worrying about the end of summer and focus on the here and now. Was his fledgling relationship really over? He’d driven away angry. Or perhaps saddened was a better way of putting it. He cringed when he thought of his last words to Dale. You’ve already lost me.

  Was it true? He wasn’t sure he believed it himself. Had he convinced Dale? At least enough to light a fire under his ass and force his hand?

  Was he being fair? Dale had been through enough for several people in this lifetime. At an age when he should have been enjoying the best years of his life, laughing and going on long dates with his boyfriend, Ethan had been kidnapped and buried alive, forced to endure the worst possible death. How does someone get over that? Especially if they felt responsible.

  There was no denying Dale’s job had been a culprit. The primary reason for the abduction. The guilt would be tremendous. Anyone would have felt the weight of that guilt for years if not the rest of their life. It wasn’t surprising that he’d quit his job and started working with his hands. It was surprising that he was mostly healthy and active and hadn’t turned into a hermit, shunned his family and friends, or worse—committed suicide.

  Gavin half convinced himself he was being too harsh on Dale. But dammit, he also couldn’t sit back with his mouth shut and allow the man he loved to shy away from responsibility out of real or perceived future fears. Dale had shown his truly vulnerable side today, and Gavin had needed to do anything he could to shake the man up.

  Gavin stopped pacing the parking lot and leaned against his bike. He crossed his legs at the ankles and tipped his head back. It was beautiful in this part of the country. He’d driven over an hour and still found himself surrounded by snow-capped mountains, lush evergreens, and rolling valleys. The clean scent of fresh air and pine always filled his nose. So much better than Calgary.

  He’d lived in the city his entire life, but he’d give it up in a heartbeat to live somewhere more rural, something he hadn’t realized until arriving in Silvertip a week ago.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dale, what are you doing right now? He hoped he’d made a good judgment call by lighting a fire under his lover’s ass and walking away. Please, if there is a God, tell me he’s working hard to find those girls.

  The memory of losing Paige to an abduction just two days ago was fresh and raw. Gavin had been so scared he thought he might go insane. He knew both those young girls had family and friends who hadn’t slept in the three days they’d been missing. Unimaginable angst. Gavin’s heart went out to everyone involved, people he’d never met and would never know. Souls who didn’t deserve this.

  If everyone was lucky, perhaps they would find out the girls had run away. Where had they gone that none of their family members could reach them telepathically? Were they incapacitated? He shuddered. Or already dead…

  He opened his eyes again and tipped his face toward the sky. It was late afternoon. The sun would go down soon. It wouldn’t be safe to ride in the dark. He glanced around. This town was too small to have a motel. But he thought he’d passed another larger town about ten minutes before he pulled off at this one. He would double back. Find a place to stay and try to sleep. Returning to Silvertip tonight wasn’t a good idea anyway.

  He pulled out his phone. No messages. Chances were only George and Dale knew he’d left town. Hopefully, the silence meant Dale was concentrating. Gavin didn’t believe Dale would be angry enough to ignore Gavin as soon as he could reasonably touch base.

  Gavin stuffed his phone in his pocket and climbed back onto his bike. He pulled away calmer and drove slower than he had getting to this town. A few minutes into the drive down the windy rural road back toward the main freeway he wondered how he’d gotten there alive. His mind had been so preoccupied, and there were too many blind curves and twists. He’d been lucky.

  He blew out a breath at the realization as he took another turn, leaning to the left to guide his bike.

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, an enormous bear stepped onto the road as if it had no idea on earth how incredibly dangerous such an act would be.

  Gavin gripped the steering wheel, trying to make a split-second decision. Hit
ting the bear was not an option. Whether it was a shifter or a full real bear, he still didn’t want to hurt it.

  Thoughts raced through his mind as if he were moving in slow motion. His gaze widened as the bear suddenly twisted his direction and cocked its head to one side, probably realizing its predicament.

  There was nowhere to go. No time to decide. All Gavin could do in the split second afforded him was yank his handlebars to the right to avoid hitting the large animal.

  Immediately he realized his mistake. The shoulder was nonexistent, and the embankment was steep. He tried to control his bike, gripping the handlebars as he careened into a thick copse of trees and dense brush. His vision was obscured. He had no idea what was in front of him, only that he was going too fast and the bike was pitched too far forward. Too steep.

  He didn’t even have time to scream before he hit something that stopped the Chieftain dead. Gavin was thrown into the air, his body sailing too far above the ground. He flailed his arms and legs, but the human body wasn’t meant to be violently ejected like that.

  In the moments he was in the air, he knew he was going to die. He didn’t stand a chance. Man against nature. Too many impediments in his way.

  He finally screamed as gravity pulled him toward the earth. So many branches hit him in every direction that he wasn’t sure his limbs were still attached by the time he hit the ground so hard the breath was knocked out of him. Pain. Sharp horrifying pain coming from everywhere. And then the world went blessedly black.

  »»•««

  Gavin had no idea where he was or how long he’d been out, but when he opened his eyes, he found two things—a young woman was leaning over him, her face as white as a sheet, her cheeks streaked with tears. Her hand was under his head, but blood was all over her clothes, her hair, even her face.

  Was she hurt?

  No. He was. With a rush, it all came back. The accident. And then the pain. Everywhere. He couldn’t move anything. Broken bones?

  She lifted her hand from the back of his head and held it up in horror. It was covered with blood. It dripped down her fingers a she shook. “Oh, God. Mister. I’m so sorry.”

  Who was this girl and why was she sorry. Where the hell did she come from?

  It was hard to focus on her face. His vision was swimming. The life was leaving his body.

  “I didn’t see you,” she stammered. “I was drugged. Confused. I’m so sorry.” She wailed now, fear making her eyes widen. “I’ve called for help. Please hang in there.” She sat up straighter and tugged her blood-splattered jacket off.

  Gavin watched in fascination as if he were observing rather than the victim. Was he dying already? So fast…

  She grabbed his neck again and lifted his head to press her jacket under the back of it. “Too much blood,” she muttered. “Please don’t die. Please.” She sobbed uncontrollably.

  Gavin somehow found the strength to speak. “My phone,” he choked out. “Pocket.”

  He wasn’t sure she heard him at first, and then her face lit up, and she nodded. “Right.” She reached for his jacket pocket and patted it. He felt nothing and tamped down the panic.

  She then reached across for the other side and tugged the phone out.

  Thank God it was still there.

  “Dale Gerben,” was all he could manage.

  She fumbled with the cell, her hands shaking badly, but she calmed slightly with the task. “Got it. Dale… Found it.” She must have hit the button to connect because she was now holding the phone to her ear. “Come on. Pick up. Pick up.”

  Gavin could do nothing but stare at her. What if Dale was too consumed to take his call?

  The girl made a loud cry of frustration as she lowered the phone. “I’ll try again,” she told the device. “I’ll get him for you. I promise.” She put it back to her ear.

  Gavin couldn’t even blink. He wasn’t in enough pain for the look on her face. The only discomfort was now his head. His face. The back of his head. His neck. Nothing else.

  His neck…

  Fuck.

  At least his death wouldn’t hurt as badly. Whatever broken bones he’d sustained were blessedly masked by the paralysis.

  The girl groaned and tried again. She might have been squeezing Gavin’s hand, but he felt nothing. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Dale? Dale Gerben? Thank God.” And then she started crying again. “There was an accident. I didn’t see him.” She cried harder.

  Her words were fading. His vision was fading. She kept talking. Pausing. Talking. Maybe he managed to squeeze her hand to communicate with her. She glanced down at his hand and then spoke again into the phone. “I’m going to hold it to his ear.” She yanked the cell from her face to his awkwardly.

  “Gavin?”

  “Love you…” The words came out garbled. Had he actually spoken them?

  “Gavin, listen to me. Help is on the way. Stay awake. Keep talking to Carla. Do not fall asleep. You hear me.”

  “So sorry.” His voice was too weak. “Best week of my life. Love you so much.” How he managed to say all of that he had no idea.

  Carla—how did Dale know her name?—was crying again. She put the phone back to her ear. “How long before they get here? Okay… Yes…” She glanced at Gavin and sobbed louder, nodding. “I will… I’m so sorry. So sorry. Oh, God… Yes…” She nodded again.

  Gavin couldn’t hold his eyes open.

  She set the phone back against his ear again, though he didn’t know why. He was so confused. Who was on the phone? He couldn’t talk now. He had to be someplace. He had to get back to Silvertip. To Dale.

  “Listen to me, kid, you hang in there. Do not die on me, you hear?”

  Gavin smiled, though he didn’t know why. A peace came over him. He mouthed the only words running through his head, although he was certain no sound came out this time. “Love you…”

  The person on the phone kept talking. Shouting. Why was he shouting?

  Gavin’s eyes slid closed even though the girl grabbed his face with her free hand and held him tight. He could feel her cool hand against his heated cheek. It felt nice. It was all he felt. She kept talking. He couldn’t hear her. Why couldn’t he hear her?

  And then more blackness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A loud noise jerked Gavin out of a deep sleep. He couldn’t open his eyes though. Too heavy. He also couldn’t moan. Pain. His head. His lips wouldn’t move. They were too dry. He was thirsty. Where was he? What was that whirring sound? So loud. It hurt his head. He scrunched his face against the pain.

  A man shouted. “Gavin Wright, open your eyes this instant.”

  Why was he screaming?

  Gavin didn’t have the strength to obey.

  “Some submissive you are. Not very obedient.” A warm hand landed on his face. Still the noise. The whirring. His body was jostled around too. Where the hell was he? He couldn’t move or even breathe. Except he surely had to be breathing.

  The whirring sound faded as he moved away from it somehow. He was lying down? What happened?

  A flash of memory danced across the back of his eyelids. A bear in the road. Not enough time. He went off into the ditch…

  Was he dead? Surely not. Not with all the shouting. So many voices now. One so close to his head he couldn’t avoid it.

  “Gavin, baby, please. Look at me.” The voice was pleading now. Scared. Angry.

  He would have obeyed if he could, but his eyes wouldn’t open. He couldn’t move anything to let the man know he heard him.

  Was he on a gurney? Probably. How had they gotten to him so fast? He’d just been thrown from his bike moments ago.

  But the girl. Where was the girl? Had she been an angel? She had seemed to think the accident was her fault. But the bear…

  The man spoke again—his lips so close Gavin thought he could feel them on his ear. Or maybe he imagined it. It felt nice. Like home. Soothing. “Come back to me, baby. Please.” Sadness filled the voice.

  “Baby, it’
s Dale. I need you to open your eyes.”

  Another voice. Official sounding. “Sir, we need to assess the injuries. Please step back.”

  “No,” whoever Dale was shouted emphatically. He held Gavin’s face, stroking his cheek and then his lips. “Fight, baby. Fight.”

  Dale…

  Gavin’s attention faded again. He went into his head. Dale… More visions of a First Nations man. Tall. Broad. Sexy as hell. Dale. Gavin’s heart clenched. Love you…

  Dale turned his head and shouted, his voice so frustrated, his words aimed in another direction. “Dammit, George. Don’t do this to me.”

  Do what? What was Dale talking about?

  ∙•∙

  Dale glared at the member of the Arcadian Council who had been a presence in his life for so many years. He wanted to strangle the man. “Don’t do this,” he repeated.

  “It’s out of my hands,” George responded too calmly.

  Dale shouted, “It’s not. You don’t have to do this. I won’t let you. I don’t have to let you.”

  “Dale,” George warned.

  Dale shook his head. He stroked Gavin’s shoulder next to the cervical collar, but he could feel his pulse fading. It was a miracle Gavin had held on long enough to be airlifted to this clinic. It wasn’t a trauma center. It wasn’t even a hospital. It wasn’t for humans either. It was a local clinic outside Silvertip where shifters normally went when they had a grave injury that required more recuperation than the average cut or broken bone.

  Patients came here when they needed more care than shifting would yield. Normally, injured grizzlies could easily shift into their animal form, and rapid healing would mend them in a fraction of the time. Sometimes they were incapacitated and couldn’t shift to speed the process. Sometimes they didn’t make it when the injuries were too severe. They weren’t immortal, simply healthier.

  Gavin was not a shifter. The doctors in this clinic wouldn’t know how to help him. And it didn’t matter anyway. Anyone around could see his injuries were too severe for a human to overcome. There was a good chance they were too severe for a shifter to survive either.