Bear With Me (Woodland Creek)

by Nicole Blanchard

  She pauses for a second before saying, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while about a…matter and I haven’t quite had the words, but I think now is probably a good time. So we can get everything on the table.”

  My eyes round and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not sure what you mean,” I say.

  “Of course you do, dear. I’m talking about your gift.” I look away as she continues. “I’m assuming you received it after your mother died.”

  I nod, but I don’t say anything. “I’m so sorry that there wasn’t anyone there to help guide you through that. I’m certain she wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”

  “So she knew?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Of course she did. She received hers around her eighteenth birthday, too.”

  “Could she…did she have the same abilities I do?”

  Nonna sits on one of the bar stools and leans her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Everyone’s gifts are a little different, just like each person is different. She was especially talented at mind reading, which is part of the reason why she left. She couldn’t handle how sad I was after your grandfather died. I couldn’t let it go and I wasted away with grief.”

  So that explains the memory I had of her when I first got here. My heart aches for them both because they never got to mend that rift. I don’t want the same to be said for us, so I take the seat next to her at the bar.

  “I always thought she could tell when I was lying,” I confide.

  Nonna laughs fondly. “It’s not a fair gift, that’s for sure, though I imagine it came in handy raising you and your brother. So tell me, what is yours?”

  I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, but I feel lighter with each word. Knowing that there’s someone out there like me, that I still have that connection with my mother, is priceless. “I’m not sure what you would call it, exactly, but when I touch something, it can be a person or something simple like a set of keys, I can sense their memories.” I hesitate before saying, “Like when I got here, I saw you and mom arguing when she left.”

  She nods. “I regret that day very much.”

  I lay a hand on her arm. “I know you do. And I know that if she were here she’d be glad that we are here with you.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, too.” She pats my hand. “This is the only thing I’m going to say on the matter, but I hope you take it to heart. Don’t make my mistake. Don’t let so much time pass that you aren’t able to go back. If Declan is the person you want to be with, then you shouldn’t give up, no matter what.”

  I wish things were that easy. No matter how many times I call or go by, he doesn’t want to talk to me and I start to wonder if there isn’t something else that he isn’t telling me.

  Sullivan

  It happened on the way to my internship at the Chronicle a couple weeks later. It caught me so off guard I could have been shot and it wouldn’t have caused as much of a shock.

  I was focused on blowing the steam from my cappuccino, so I didn’t see him until it was too late to hide. I look up and find his brown eyes from a few doors down and a shock reverberates through my body. He pauses where he’s unlocking the door to his shop, one hand frozen on the knob. My own fingers clutch the uncomfortably hot coffee cup and my feet are rooted to the cracked sidewalk.

  His hand falls from the doorknob and he takes a hesitant step towards me. A bud of hope blooms in my chest and steals the breath from my lungs. In spite of everything Sam and Nonna have said over the past few weeks and in spite of my own pep talks, a voice in my head has a short prayer on repeat. My mouth opens and closes.

  I finally make up my mind to cross the few shop fronts between us and make amends, do something, when he seems to come to his senses. His hand goes back to the knob, twists, and he sends one last long look over his shoulder before he disappears into the dark recesses of his store.

  I take a step backward like I’ve been dealt a physical blow and damn if it doesn’t feel like it. This is why girls like me stay in our safe little bubbles with our predictable lives. Mysterious, handsome strangers aren’t worth the risk, no matter how good they can kiss.

  Giving myself a shake, I step into the office and greet Michelle at the desk. Staff is minimal today due to the incoming storms. The normally bright and boisterous newsroom is eerily quiet. So quiet that I can hear the hum from the fax machine and the tapping of the few people who are at their desks. The whole room is darkened by the bruised clouds rolling in.

  As I make my way toward my desk I’m grateful I only have to do a couple hours’ worth of busy work before I can leave. I’d hate to get caught out in a thunderstorm.

  Henry spots me immediately and beelines for my desk. His tie is especially atrocious today, a puke and burnt orange creation which looks like it came straight out of the eighties.

  “Great!” he says, running his fingers over his mustache. “We’ve just received the coroner’s report for the Running Deer girl’s murder. Apparently it was some kind of animal mauling. Give me a report on recent animal attacks in the area, then go down and take some pictures of the crime scene for me before the weather gets too bad.”

  I glance out the window at the increasingly black sky and mask my frown. “Right away, sir.”

  Hannah, another one of the lucky students from Hastings offers to help, but I brush her off. Searching the Chronicle’s database for previous attacks shouldn’t take me long.

  My workspace isn’t much more than a miniature desk crammed into a corner, but I’d managed to brighten it up with cute little baskets and bright colors. A picture of my parents sits right next to my laptop.

  As I search the database, I take a quick sip of coffee, burning my tongue. The search returns over thirty results, the majority of which seem to be regarding small animal attacks. Snakes, insects and spiders. A shiver skates down my spine at the thought of traipsing through the forest with them later, but I brush that off.

  A dozen or so of the results are from larger animals. A couple of bears, some cougars and then there are a few news reports that make me pause, put down my coffee, and sit up a little straighter in my chair. The unidentified attacks left the victims nearly eviscerated by claw and bite marks from an unnamed animal. I flash back to the blood-soaked dirt and horribly mangled body and the coffee sours in my stomach.

  After a few moments, I manage to calm my queasy stomach and put together a list of the reports and references for Henry. I hope he has second thoughts about sending me out there when he reads them. Wanting to be thorough—and to satiate a bit of my curiosity—I expand the search to the neighboring county. It turns up more of the small animal attacks, and I’m shocked to find nearly double that of the large, unidentified animal attack claims.

  How many things are in that forest, exactly? Or maybe I should be asking what is in that forest?

  Rain follows me across town, and by the time I make it to Running Deer, it’s coming down with a vengeance. Thunder crashes and electricity zips across my skin. The scent of metal carries on the rushing wind and goosebumps rise on my exposed flesh.

  I may be overreacting, but after recounting the list of vicious things ready to attack me at any moment, I don’t want to go into the forest unarmed. Plus, Sam’s warnings are playing in the back of my head about a madman being loose. After a quick search through the truck, I come up with the tire iron. Not much it will do against a mountain lion or some shit, but at least it is something.

  I carry it in my right hand, my left grips an increasingly unsteady umbrella. The canopy of trees protects me for the most part and I can only hope that the scene hasn’t been completely washed away yet. Henry has it out for me as it is, the last thing he needs is a reason to get rid of me.

  I see another cluster of rocks and I catch myself before I can smile. Unbidden, the memory of the first time I met Declan plays across my mind. “I’m sorry to put you through this, Sullivan. It won’t happen again.” He is right about that. Maybe it would have bee
n better if we’d never met.

  By the time I make it to the area marked off by police tape, I’m over the wind and rain and edgy feeling I always get now when I’m in the forest alone. I hope Henry sees the rain and gloom as contributing to the atmosphere instead of a shoddy job on my part.

  A few minutes later, I’m powering down the camera when I hear the tornado sirens sound in the distance.

  I whirl and lose grip on the tire iron, it bounces off a tree and ricochets in the distance, obscured by the rain and encroaching darkness. Fuck. Despite the rain drenching my best gray slacks and certainly rendering my white shirt see-through, my mouth runs dry at the thought of not making it to shelter before the tornado hits. God, what the hell was I thinking?

  I remember Declan’s cabin is somewhere around here and turn in the direction I hope it’s in and run.

  The low heels I’m wearing don’t serve my purpose well and within a few seconds I’ve managed to twist my ankle. I don’t know how long I manage to limp through the forest. Long enough that my shoes become a distant memory. Long enough that my feet are cracked and bloodied. For the first time since I started my mad dash through the woods, I feel the tendrils of fear snake through my chest.

  The sweet refuge of the Indiana woodland I’d enjoyed with Declan no longer seemed tranquil and relaxing. The sound of the rustling leaves and the distant crack of lightning in the distance are no longer the marks of a warm summer night. Instead they are the crunch of destruction heading my way. Fingers of felled tree branches scrape at the skin of my bare arms and grasp at my button up shirt. My toes catch in the soft clay of the forest floor. The tender soles of my feet power through endless pine needles and cones, but I’m too overwhelmed to care.

  Every movement in the darkness around me causes my heart to stutter in my chest. Even the soft whisper of wind carries the threat of death.

  Rivulets of rain cause my clothes to slick to my skin. Adrenaline too alternates between flashes of intense heat and nausea and stomach-dropping hollowness. I begin to grow incredibly drowsy and short of breath. My chest aches with the need for oxygen and my arms grow heavy. My injured feet drag on the ground and I lose my footing on more than one occasion.

  Chilled air whips around me with renewed vengeance. It roves through the darkness rustling branches and swirling leaves, a harrowing and empty symphony of dread.

  A scream ripped straight from my nightmares echoes through the corpses of trees and brings me to a screeching halt. The same one that I heard in the memory the day I discovered that poor girl’s body.

  I whip around in all directions thinking maybe there’s someone like me trapped in the woods. It sounded like a woman’s voice.

  I strain my ears over the sound of the howling wind for another sign. My heartbeat thuds too loudly and my lungs heave for breath. I can’t hear anything. A few seconds pass and I chalk the sound up to an animal in distress, so I press on, my exhaustion having caught up with me in the few moments of pause.

  A few yards more and I manage to find a trail. I’m not certain where it leads, but anywhere would be an immeasurable blessing at this point. If I’m lucky, it’ll be the trail leading to the tourist center. If I’m not, well…I brush that thought from my mind.

  I hear a loud snap of a branch near me and I whirl around, blood rushing to my head. My eyes strain into the distance, trying to detect abnormal movements in the shadows. The only thing I can see are trees and more trees, all of them bending wildly in the wind.

  I take a few steps, my feet now completely numb, when I hear the scream again. This time from right behind me. I turn to investigate and see a shadow weaving through the trees.

  The hairs on my nape rise and tingle. This isn’t a person in trouble, my gut tells me. This isn’t someone who needs my help. Rather than stay to find out, I run like hell in the other direction.

  As I run, the screams start up again, only this time I can hear them coming from every direction simultaneously. Over the sound of my heart and breaths and feet slamming on the ground, I can hear the telltale sounds of someone—or something—in pursuit. I remember the reports of hikers being mauled and I pray that I won’t become one of them. The face of the girl laying in the weeds haunts me.

  I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to be somewhere, anywhere else. Screams echo in my head, obliterating the sound of everything else. Whatever is out there is taunting me, enjoying the thrill of my fear.

  My weak ankle catches on a branch and I face-plant into a puddle of brackish water. The voices come to a stop and I scramble on my knees to hide behind the fat trunk of a tree. Maybe I’m going fucking crazy. Maybe losing my parents was too much.

  As the crunching sound of feet approaches, I almost hope it’s the tornado coming to take me out of this hell-hole.

  Declan

  I’d been avoiding her because I knew exactly how I would react if I was alone with her again. Hell, we were separated by what essentially amounts to an entire building and I can still smell the perfume on her skin. I could hear her heart skip a beat when she notices I am staring at her and damn the responding thud of my own.

  I nearly stride across the sidewalk to her, to make up for being a jackass, when I remember exactly why I pushed her away in the first place. A flash of pain crosses her face when she sees me hesitate and I push my way inside the store before I give in to that look.

  Red frowns at me when I enter and I hold up a hand on my way back to the office. “Don’t start.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, boy. I’ll damn well start whatever I like.”

  “Well, don’t let it bother you if I don’t listen while you do.”

  “Suzanna Thomas’ granddaughter? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

  “You mean your dick was doing all the decision making.”

  “Fuck off. I’ve got work to do.”

  He makes a sound in his throat. “Won’t be anything left to do when that woman wipes your skinny little ass out of Woodland Creek.”

  “Don’t worry, I handled it.”

  “I’m just looking out for you, son.”

  I duck my head into my hands. “I know you are. I don’t mean to be such a dick. Just been a long morning.”

  Thunder rattles and our heads both swivel to the windows. “Gonna be a bitch of a storm. All the tours canceled for today. You’re gonna want to get closed up soon before it gets too bad. Not going to get any of that work done today. You’ll have to find something else to keep you busy.”

  “You get on home, Red. I’ll handle things here.”

  Red nods and heads out before stopping at my office door. “And by something else to keep you busy, I don’t mean going to find that girl.”

  I curl my lips at him, but don’t respond. The little amount of paperwork I have to do can wait. Urgency lights my blood, probably caused by the coming storm, and I decide to go ahead and pack up. As I’m leaving, I note the Chronicle employees are filing out, too. I pause by the shop door under the guise of locking up as I look over to try and catch another glimpse of Sullivan.

  When the last person leaves and takes out a set of keys to lock the door tension tightens the muscles in my gut. Had she already left?

  Recognizing the girl as another one of the Hastings kids, probably in Sully’s class, I jog over and offer a friendly, “Hey! Some weather, huh?”

  She looks up and smiles. “Looks like it’s going to head this way, yeah.”

  I try to act casual and fail miserably. “Sully make it out okay?”

  “I think so. Henry had her run over to the last crime scene a few minutes ago, but she should have made it home. I don’t think she’d risk it in this weather.”

  She was probably right. Then again, Sully didn’t seem like the type of person to give up that easily.

  Both the girl and I look at each other in alarm when the sirens start going off. She doesn’t have time to react before I’m racing back to my truck.


  Thank fuck the crime scene is near my cabin. I break about twenty laws as I speed across town. The sky is angry and dark and my skin is prickling with the need to shift. My teeth lengthen and my mouth waters, but I manage to keep the change back by sheer will. I need to get to the park first. Then I can let go.

  I’ll never be able to forgive myself if something happens to her because of all this shit. A growl rips through my throat and vibrates throughout the cab of the truck.

  I make it to the park in record time and explode from the truck, ripping off my shirt as I go. The only other times I managed to shift were in times of high stress or emotion. Normally, I can’t control the change, but as I dive into the forest on all fours I manage to keep my senses about me through the change. It surprises me enough that I skid to a stop for a moment and look down at my fur covered body.

  A scream rips through the air and I plunge into the trees after the sound, sniffing the air for a trace of her scent. I find signs of her walk on the trail and my heart stills when I hear the sounds of the tornado pulling up trees and brush behind me.

  I see the yellow tape in the distance and push myself to go faster. Her scent gets stronger the closer I get. I leap over the taped off area and land on the other side. A few feet away, I spot her white shirt huddled in a ditch.

  Even though I know revealing myself to her will put both of us in danger, I would rather her know my secret than risk losing her.

  Without giving myself time to think, I race toward her curled body and scoop her into my arms before she has a chance to see me coming. She surprises me by not reacting other than to curl herself closer to my warmth. She’s shaking from fear, her eyes wild and confused, but she turns to me on instinct. The beast in me fucking loves that, and I know he’ll never let her go now that she’s come to him for protection.

  I’ve been through these woods enough during my tours and in my shifted form that I know every inch. There’s an empty tourist building not far from here. I know it’s strong enough to withstand the weather so I head in its direction. Her fingers are curled into my fur and her heart races against my chest. I just hope I can get us both there in one piece.