Deep Woods

“I thought you were homeschooled?”

“This was later. When I was a teenager.”

I was going to leave it there. But I could feel her listening and she was so damn good at it, so patient and calming, that all the stuff that normally stayed locked up safe in the depths of my mind started slipping out. “I went to a school in the city for a little while. A big school, in a lousy area. Everything was concrete and it smelled bad.” I looked down at my oversize body. “And the desks were too small, I always felt clumsy. I was this big dumb kid from the country. I knew how to hunt deer and how to find wild mushrooms, not...which bands were cool. The other guys thought I was weird. The girls, even more. Everybody called me Bigfoot.”

She stood up and put a hand on my shoulder, cool and gentle. “You’re not dumb,” she said fiercely. “Or weird.” She looked around at the forest. “You were just out of place, there.”

The memories bubbled up, but where they’d normally catch and stick painfully in my chest, now they just seemed to escape, like her hand on my shoulder was making them as insubstantial as ghosts. I still didn’t want to talk about this stuff, but getting it out actually felt good. “Everything was so busy, and there were no animals. I tried to find some parts of the city with some green, where there might be some birds, some squirrels, but when I went off on my own, just for a little walk, like...three or four hours, my aunt freaked out.”

I suddenly realized I’d said too much. I went quiet and hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it, but this was Bethany: she was good with people. She left it a moment, and then gently asked, “Why were you living with your aunt?”

Dammit. I shook my head and stood up. “We should get going.”

“Cal,” she said softly. “Cal, I’m sorry….”

I nodded quickly to let her know that it was fine, then picked up the pace. I figured if we got busy walking, there wouldn’t be time to talk. I could feel her watching me, concerned, as she trailed along behind me. I moved even faster.

I slipped under some overhanging branches and—

A big, dark shape, no more than ten feet ahead of me, its rump covered in thick, dark fur.

I had time to think fuck. And then it heard me and turned to face me. A grizzly bear the size of a small car. And shit, I could see a cub. I’d startled a mama bear. I’d done what even the dumbest hiker knows not to do in an area with bears: I’d moved too fast, too silently, so she’d had no warning. All because I’d been so determined not to talk.

“Get back!” I yelled, already trying to back up. But the branches I’d ducked under slapped the back of my head and I had to awkwardly shuffle under them—

And then the bear gave a long, bellowing roar that I felt in my chest...and charged towards me.

24

Bethany

I HEARD CAL yell to get back and I backed up as quickly as I could, but then he was racing back towards me and—

Oh Jesus.

It was huge but it moved with terrifying speed. It came thundering out of the trees and I could feel the weight of it in the way the ground shook. Cal dodged to the side, waving his arms, and I realized he was making sure it followed him, not me. The bear turned to face him, lowered its head and roared. I had to slap my hands over my ears, it was so loud. What the hell are we going to do? This thing could kill us in the blink of an eye.

It lunged towards Cal and I caught a glimpse of long, curving teeth. Cal brought his arm up to protect his face and the jaws snapped closed—oh Jesus, it had hold of his shirt, and now it was shaking him like a doll with its jaws, trying to knock him off his feet so it could tear at him. Cal was grunting, trying to break free, but even he was no match for the bear’s strength. He staggered...and went down. The bear’s body blocked him from view but I could see it slashing with its claws—

He was dead unless I did something.

“HEY!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “HEY!” The bear didn’t turn around. But then I circled to the left, towards where the bear had come from….

That got its attention. It let go of Cal and turned to face me, then gave another of those ear-splitting roars. I froze. Now what?!

“Bethany!” Cal, from somewhere behind the bear. His voice was ragged: was he just scared for me, or was he hurt? “Don’t run!” he yelled. “Play dead!”