Wild At Heart (Wild 2)

The bear lets out a deep, rattling growl that makes every hair on my body stand on end. It swats at the ground with its paw in warning. It’s too close.

I am too close.

“Calla …?” Mabel calls out with alarm, yanking the cord for her earbuds.

“Close your window and stay in there,” I warn, my voice taking on an odd, unfamiliar tone. Walking toward the truck would mean getting closer to it, and so I edge backward slowly, toward Roy’s house, hoping it’s not too late, that I’m not already too close.

I stumble as I try to climb the steps backward on shaky legs, and the bear takes several charging steps forward.

My breathing stops altogether, and cold calm settles over me as it moves in. This is it.

A horn blasts through the air, once and then a second and third time. Mabel is slamming her palm on the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to distract it. It seems to work, swinging the bear’s attention to the pickup truck as it sidesteps to get away from the sudden and menacing sound from another direction.

I use that time to clamber to my feet and rush up the stairs.

Roy’s front door flies open. “What the hell is goin’—” He sees my face, must see the terror, because he reaches inside and grabs his gun. “He’s back again, is he?” He steps out onto the porch, sounding more annoyed than anything. “Get behind me.”

I do as told without question as he searches out and locates the pacing bear. “I’ve given this thing enough goddamn chances.”

A flurry of wild barking erupts from somewhere within the trees then, growing louder by the second as Oscar and Gus charge in, Gus in the lead.

“Heel!” Roy shouts, but the dogs don’t listen, each taking a side as they approach the bear. It’s more than twice the size of either wolf dog, and yet they herd him back toward the barn door, teeth bared with threatening snarls. The bear roars and swats, its lengthy claws slicing the air as they dive at its haunches before darting out of reach. It’s only a matter of time before the bear connects.

Roy must be thinking the same. “He’s gonna kill one of ’em. Maybe both,” he says with certainly. “Come here.”

I step forward without thought.

“Take this.” He thrusts the gun into my hands.

I follow on autopilot as he roughly guides my grip, propping the butt of the gun into the ball of my shoulder.

His intentions finally register in my head. “I’ve never fired a gun, Roy,” I admit, my voice hollow.

“It’s easy. Point, aim, pull the trigger, watch the kickback. And try not to hit the dogs.”

I falter, struggling with the weight and awkwardness of it as I train the muzzle on the massive brown body, silently regretting not taking Muriel’s advice to learn how to do this.

“Come on, girl. Before he gets hold of one of them,” Roy pushes.

A loud yelp sounds and Gus leaps away. The blood streaming down his side is glossy against his black fur. With him temporarily subdued, the bear turns on Oscar and charges forward. Oscar loses his footing and tumbles to the ground.

“Now, Calla!” Roy roars.

Steeling my shaky hands, I pull the trigger.

* * *

“One … two … three.” Toby, Teddy, and Jonah hoist the body into the back of Toby’s truck with a chorus of grunts and groans.

“Damn, this thing must weigh almost three hundred pounds,” Jonah says, studying the motionless bear.

I flinch and turn away. The throb in my shoulder radiates from where the base of the gun recoiled upon firing and rammed into my flesh and bone. It all happened so quickly. One second, the bear was lunging for Oscar, and the next, it was on the ground, giving a few last twitches before stilling. Somehow, by sheer luck, and perhaps divine intervention, the bullet landed behind its front leg, to carve through fur and flesh and reach its heart.

An impossible kill shot for a girl who’s never even fired a gun, apparently. It had Teddy scratching his head and Muriel nodding her head, impressed.

“You sure you don’t want the meat, Roy?” Muriel asks.

He grimaces. “Thing’s probably parasitic.”