by Mark Tufo
“What?” I was confused. “No, no, they were pack-mates. I believe they thought I had gone over.”
“You had,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Huh?”
“You were dead. I could smell it from in the woods.”
“Why did you help then? Why risk injury?”
“My destruction of the infected humans was not to save you but rather to kill them. If you had not somehow revived I would have kept doing so. But since you were alive I thought it better to keep it that way. You looked like a newborn foal standing there all gangly-legged, I had to get you away from there.”
“Thank you, I am not fond of zombies.”
“Zombies?”
“That is what the two-leggers call them.”
ThornGrip sniffed in derision. “I have not much use for the uninfected either,” she said stiffly.
“They are not all bad. Some, yes.” I was thinking back to Icely and even of the people Ben-Ben had been ‘rescued’ from. Not all people were bad but neither were all people good.
“Unlike you, Riley, I cannot wait to see on which side of that line a person stands. Have you ever heard of hunting season?”
I shook my head in negation.
“For that, alone, consider yourself lucky. It is when men, and sometimes women, use pointed projectiles or their long reaching weapons to kill us.”
“Fire-sticks? They use fire-sticks to kill you? Are they feeling threatened? They do strange things when they feel like they are at risk.”
“This is not a matter of us showing up at their homes, they come out here to where we live and they lie in wait, and like cowards, they strike out with weapons we cannot fight back against.”
“That’s horrible,” I told her, and I meant it. The fire-sticks were a mighty weapon and maybe the only way a two-legger could win a fight against a bear, but that didn’t make it right in my mind.
“That is the way of the world in which I live. It is all I can do to survive and raise my cubs.”
“Where are they?” I asked, looking around thinking they might bound out at any time.
“My first died two seasons of spring ago. He had injured his paw on an old machine of man, before succumbing to illness. My second was doing well, I did all that I could to keep him away from the world of men. It was the infected, zombies, that took him. Man has suffered greatly from the sickness let loose and now that they do not number as many, the zombies turn to other food sources.”
“I am so sorry,” I told her.
“We ran for days to get away from them, but they would never stop. TinyPad could not sustain. I fought until I could fight no more. I suffered a great many wounds and still they took him. I laid waste to over forty of them before it was over, but by then TinyPad was no longer of this life.”
ThornGrip was looking off into the distance. I had no words for her, what could I say that would alleviate the sharp pain of loss she was feeling? We sat for a while longer.
“Where are you trying to go Riley?” She turned to me. “Home?”
“We have no home any longer. The zombies took it. My pack was heading to a friend’s home.”
“A human dwelling?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to get there?”
“No.”
“What will you do now?”
“I... I do not know. I have just traveled back from beyond. I do not think I was supposed to still be alive.”
“That must mean that you have something to finish here before you can move on.”
“Is that how it works?”
She shrugged her massive shoulders. “I do not know the answer to this little one, but it appears that perhaps I saved you for some reason you do not understand yet.”
“I am grateful for all of your help ThornGrip, yet I will need help from the very beings you despise if I am to complete what I think needs to be done.”
The bear said nothing.
“My wounds need tending to, there are humans with small sharp objects. Sometimes they hurt but they mean well, and oftentimes they make us feel better when we are not well.”
“Your wounds are indeed grievous, there is a chance you would succumb like my BerryDancer.”
“That is a beautiful name.”
“He was a beautiful cub.”
“I must seek out one that could maybe help me. You have already done so much for me I cannot ask that you do more. That you have given me a second chance on life is a debt I may never be able to repay.”
“Yes, I have restored a forfeited life. Perhaps I would like to stay with you a while longer to see what it is I saved you for. If you would have me.”
“I would very much like that ThornGrip.”
We rested that day, ThornGrip hovered over me like a doting mother. I was not sick, not yet, but my joints began to subtly throb. Whatever was inside of me was building up its strength to work its devastation upon me. Tomorrow we would have to leave and seek out that which she hated the most. If I was going to make the most of what had been given to me that was the only way I knew how. I woke up once during the middle of the night, a chill wind had swept over me, and the howling of a wolf off in the distance had drifted in with it. ThornGrip was close enough I felt her fur bristle.
The next morning my head was cloudy, thoughts were more difficult to come across. I felt something like that one time when my alpha male had dropped his drink from his hand and had fallen asleep in his chair. Alpha female had been mad at him that I had got ahold of what she called his beer. He had laughed when he saw me stagger away, I had just felt funny, and slept most of that day.
“Are you alright Riley?” ThornGrip had asked. “You should take in some water before we begin.”
She was right. I waded off into the water, the idea of bending my head over and in from the shore did not sound like a good idea. My head was already swimming.
“How far?” I asked when I had got my fill. I felt better for it.
“Darkness will be approaching before we are there.”
“We should get going.” I started walking. ThornGrip was not following.
“You are going the wrong way,” she told me, waiting for me to turn around and catch up.
“You could have told me sooner.”
“I could have.” She did not show it but I believe her to have been smiling.
As the day wore on my thoughts drifted. ThornGrip was a silent travel companion, she had told me that she lived the majority of her life alone except for when she was raising her cubs. I could not wrap my mind around that notion at all. It was so strange, such a cat way of life. The pack was everything. How did one survive without others helping? My respect and my sadness for her increased.
“Do you get lonely?” I asked after we walked an indeterminable amount of time.
“I miss my cubs if that is what you mean. Other than that, I do not often think of other bears. I look for food and water. I eat, I drink. I find someplace warm and safe to sleep and come the next day I do the same thing.”
I could see the benefit to this lifestyle, I could. How many times had I wished Ben-Ben the incorrigible incessant Yorkie away? That does not even take into account the cat, whom I could not for the life of me understand what spell she had over alpha male and female that they allowed her to stay in that house with us. The selfish, self-centered ingrate was about as much a pack animal as the hulking bear next to me and even scarier. The burning disc had crested high overhead and was now heading down. My throat was parched and sore, my joints which had merely ached earlier were now inflamed, my pace had slowed. I tried to keep up with the easy gait of the bear, but it became impossible, I was thankful when she slowed to stay with me.
“You do not smell well Riley.”
“I do not feel well ThornGrip.”
“We still have much forest to travel before we come out across a human clearing.”
I almost told her to go on without me, then I realized that the only reason she was going
at all was because of me, and I laughed.
“There is humor in that?” she asked with concern.
“No not that.” I wanted to explain, I just didn’t have the energy to do so. She was probably thinking to herself why she enjoyed the solitary life so much right about now. It’s not always easy dealing with the emotions, thoughts and motives of another. You can trust yourself and your own instincts and that’s about it.
The traveling became slower as I began to walk almost as much side to side as I did forward.
“I know this is not your preferred method of travel but I fear that if we do not move quicker you will not make it into the night.”
Protesting was out of the question. I was not even absolutely sure where I was or who she was. Fever had taken root, and all rational thought was being reduced with each step taken. I felt pressure around my neck, then my legs were lifted effortlessly off the ground. I sagged like a wet puppy, the strength running out of me like the previously mentioned water. ThornGrip’s pace picked up. I think she was running though I am not entirely sure, I lapsed in and out of consciousness. It was dark when we stopped. ThornGrip placed me down tenderly.
“Where are we?” I whined.
“We are where the humans grow their food and keep their livestock.”
“We are at a farm?” I knew what those were. One of Zachary’s favorite bedtime stories revolved around Sunnyvale Farms and the nice farmer, his wife, their chickens, cows and horses. They were smart two-leggers who had four dogs, yet they also lacked something as they had barn cats as well. Maybe what I told ThornGrip earlier needed to be amended. Even good people might have some bad parts. Perhaps now was not the time. Even through my haze of pain and discomfort I could feel waves of nervousness sheeting off of her. She wanted to go no closer.
“Can you walk?” She was not looking at me but rather at the large domicile in front.
“Yes.” That was a lie, I could barely pant.
“Go then,” she urged.
“Okay.” She turned and I heard her go into the woods a few steps away.
“You are not moving, dog.”
“I’m working on it.”
Neither of us did anything for many beats of our hearts. I rolled over, yelping as I did so. I got my legs underneath me and pushed up, the first step I took ending up being my last as I pitched to the side.
“I fear humans,” ThornGrip said as she once again wrapped her massive jaws around my neck. I thought there might be a chance she would just end my suffering there and then and that way she would not be exposed to the inherent danger the two-leggers posed.
She tentatively brought me to the bottom step of the porch leading into a large home.
“Bark,” she urged. “Make some noise.”
I would have liked to comply but my throat was closing, I was having difficulty just swallowing.
“You insufferable dog, you are going to get me killed.” Her fear had her eyes wide in the moonlight. The words were harsh, the tone was not. She lifted up her head and let a roar go that shook my body and sent ripples up my spine. If I could have gotten up and run away I would have done so. She stayed over my body. I heard a door open up behind me...
“Oh my.” It was a female voice. “Harold! Bring the shotgun!”
“Dagnabbit woman I’ve told you not to answer the damn door anymore. Well jumping jehovites!”
I heard the metallic clicking of a fire-stick being prepared.
“Run!” I was able to hoarsely get out for ThornGrip.
Instead she tenderly picked me up.
“What’s...what’s the bear have?”
“I don’t know Mabel, stay in the house, I’ve got to kill this thing!”
There was more fumbling around and then I heard a bunch of the metalbees strike the wood and roll to various points around the porch. “Dagnabbit!”
“No swearing Harold, we’re good Christians.”
“We’re about to die, I’ll apologize when I get there.”
“You’ll do no such thing. Put the rifle down.” Mabel was more scared than ThornGrip, who had ascended the steps. My head was lolling to the side, I was looking directly at Harold who had been leaning over to get his bees.
I stuck my tongue out and licked the side of his face.
“What is going on here?” Harold put the rifle down, ThornGrip placed me on the porch gently.
“I think the dog is hurt.”
“I can see that Mabel, but why was that giant bear holding him in his mouth and why are they on our porch?”
ThornGrip was nudging my body towards Harold.
“What am I supposed to do?” Harold was looking back towards the door and wondering if it could withstand a bear attack.
“I think you should help.”
“Easy for you to say back there. I’m going to pick up the dog big fella, don’t eat me.” Harold’s hands were shaking as he placed one under my neck and the other on my back hips. He lifted me up. “I need to get the dog under some light so I can see what’s going on. I’m going in. Is that alright big fella?”
Harold backed up. I could tell he was hesitant to turn his back on an animal that outweighed him nearly three times over.
“I’ve got the kitchen table cleaned off, bring her in here!” Mabel shouted. There were candles lit up all around the room. Mabel gasped as Harold put me down on the wooden table.
“What?”
She pointed. ThornGrip had forced her way through the door opening. She’d come in through the living room and had come up into the kitchen. Her large nose taking in all the scents of the home before she settled and sat next to me.
“Thank you,” I told her.
A large tongue came out and licked the side of my face. I wasn’t used to that, I was normally the one giving those.
“They’re friends?” Harold said. “I’ll take care of the pup, big fella.”
ThornGrip growled.
Mabel had a small smile. “I think the big fella is a husky woman.”
“My pardons!” Harold said sincerely, meaning every word. “Mabel, gonna need my vet bag. I’m going to boil some water and could you maybe get something for our… umm… guest to eat so that I look less appetizing?”
“You’re all skin and bones, Harold, she wouldn’t want you.”
“You seem to be taking this rather well.”
“If she wanted us dead, dear, that tour group would have already left. She’s looking out for her friend.”
“Well, if you feel so safe go over and give her a hug of sympathy.”
“Just because I say my prayers every night and ask to be delivered from evil does not mean that I would flaunt that in front of the devil. Hurry up and boil the water.”
That was the last thing I remember before I lost consciousness. When I awoke the burning disc was up and streaming through the viewer. ThornGrip was next to me, empty boxes of cereal all around her.
“These are fabulous!” she said happily holding up a box with a drawn two-legger on the cover wearing a funny head piece. “I think the human woman said something about a crunchy Captain. I don’t normally like meat but I’ll eat more Crunchy Captains.” She put the box on the floor and shredded it open, licking the inside contents for any pieces she may have missed.
A small cough came over to my side. “May I?” Harold asked ThornGrip, the man was pointing to me. ThornGrip gave a little acquiescing grunt as she looked for more cereal.
Harold sat on the couch with me. “It was touch and go that first night, pooch. Didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“That first night? How long have I been asleep?”
“Three nights.” ThornGrip grunted, tearing open another box. Harold jumped.
“You’re making a mess!” Mabel had her hands on her hips and was berating ThornGrip. The bear looked forlorn. “Get over here, I found you another box.” ThornGrip almost looked giddy as she bounded the two steps, sliding on the slippery floor in the kitchen before she came to a forced st
op running into the far wall. Mabel laughed. “Not very graceful.” She opened the box up and handed it over. “SLOW!” she said as ThornGrip grasped it in her hands and tilted the box up into her muzzle, sending flakes spiraling down into her mouth and floor.
“Ummm… so good,” ThornGrip grunted.
“Between you and me pup, that bear could be here for ten years and she would still scare the hell out of me. But my Mabel, she’s not afraid of anything, those two, they took together like they’re old friends reuniting. I’ve got a feeling you can understand me because I swear that bear knows everything we’re saying. I only wish it worked the other way around because I’m thinking you have a hell of a story to tell.” I licked his hand.
“Are you sure your friend isn’t going to eat us once she realizes we’re out of cereal?”
I gave him a small bark to let him know I figured they’d be alright.
“Alright I’ll take your word for it. I have to change some of these bandages. This is going to hurt some. I am sorry for that.” He began to work, I tried to stay as still as possible. “You had over a dozen bites on you, more than a few had taken flesh with them. I don’t know how you survived.”
Just then ThornGrip bellowed when she realized the box was empty.
“I guess maybe I do know.” Harold smiled.
“Well if you stopped to breathe while you were eating them maybe they would have lasted a little longer!” Mabel was yelling at ThornGrip. “Get out of here while I clean up your mess, pesky bear.” ThornGrip howled as Mabel playfully hit her in the rear with the floor cleaner.
“I would not suffer the mortification if not for her wonderful boxed treats.” ThornGrip huffed down, sitting next to Harold making sure she was touching him.
“That frightens him,” I told her.
“I know.” ThornGrip pulled her paw to her face and began to lick the cereal stuck there off her pads. When she was done she swiveled her massive head so that her nose was less than a snout length from Harold’s ear. She began to needlessly lick her chops.
“Well!” Harold said with a high-pitched voice, “it appears you are doing much better pup. I’m, ah, I’m going to get you some aspirin to take some of the pain away.” He left quickly.