Raised by Wolves

Chapter 56

CHAPTER 56

IT’S SEVEN A.M. and the men are going slowly now. They’re sore from a night of walking, broken only by an hour of half sleep on hard dirt. Chester is jittery, impatient with their progress. He takes a bite of a protein bar that Lacey must’ve slipped into his pocket and wills himself not to yell “Hurry up!”

Sam Dean holds out a little thermos of coffee. “Joe?” he says.

“That’s kind of you, Sam,” Chester says. But considering that he saw Sam make the brew from a packet of instant plus water from a Buffalo River tributary, he declines the offer. “I like sugar in my coffee,” he says. “Not giardia.”

“I’ll take some,” Waylon says. He’s the only chipper one in the group. “I like to live dangerously. Right, Chief?”

Chester watches as the kid takes a sip, grimaces, and then swallows.

“Delightful,” Waylon lies.

Reginald Hardy has taken the search party lead. His narrow, mean eyes sweep the forest floor and the underbrush, looking for signs or tracks. His rifle’s slung across his shoulder. He’s bowlegged but surefooted. Chester’s grateful to the man, even though he can’t stand him.

“There,” Reginald says. Stopping suddenly. Sucking on his teeth like they taste good.

“Where?” Chester asks. “What?”

“See that?”

Chester swallows the last bite of his bar and looks where Hardy’s pointing. He doesn’t see anything but early morning, sun-dappled forest. “No.”

Hardy grabs onto a broken branch. Beneath it are a few snapped twigs. “They went this way,” he says, and then he starts walking again.

Chester follows him, and everyone else follows Chester. They’re no longer walking along an established track. Instead they’re trying to find traces of footfalls in vast forests and grassy meadows.

How is this possibly going to work? Chester wonders as they trudge through a stand of old-growth lodgepole pine. Why am I trusting a man who’d run Kai and Holo out of town on a rail if he could?

Because he has no other options, that’s why.

A mile or two later, Reginald stops at the top of a rise and surveys the land around them. A rocky meadow spreads out below, bending east. A hawk circles high overhead. There’s barely a cloud in the sky.

It’s a beautiful morning, not that Chester cares.

Then he sees something moving on the far side of the meadow. A dark shape going out of the trees. Could it be—? His heart leaps.

Then stops.

It’s not Kai. It’s a bear .

“Freeze,” he whispers urgently.

The men come to an instant halt.

All except Sam Dean, who sees the animal and turns to run. Chester reaches out and grabs his arm. Holds him in place with a grip like a vise.

“I said freeze ,” Chester says through clenched teeth. “Running’ll trigger a chase response, and you can’t outrun a bear.”

The bear lifts its great brown head, sniffing the air. No one breathes. Chester’s hand’s on the pistol at his hip. Hardy brings his rifle into position.

“Well, you know what they say,” Hardy says quietly out of the side of his mouth. “You don’t gotta outrun the bear. You just gotta outrun whatever assholes you’re with.”

Chester hears the click of Hardy popping the safety on his Remington.

“Don’t shoot, Hardy,” Chester says. Grizzlies are a protected species—not animals to be shot on sight.

Unlike wolves.

The bear’s heavy head swings in their direction.

“Come and get me,” Hardy dares.

The bear makes a huffing sound, almost like a man’s cough. It rears up on its hind legs, sensitive nose still sniffing.

“Holy Jesus, he’s big,” Sam Dean whispers.

The bear drops down to all fours and gives its whole giant body a shake. It stomps the ground with a big front paw. Chester could swear he feels the impact. Sam Dean gives a whimper.

Then the bear makes another coughing sound, turns, and ambles off into the trees. Heading north. Away from them. Away from the track they’re following.

Chester feels the breath he’s been holding explode out of his lungs.

That was close.

“He woulda made a nice rug,” Hardy says, after they’re all clear.

Chester gives him a dark look. “Shoulder your weapon and let’s go,” he says. “Let’s get out of its territory as quick as we can.”

They move out, making more noise now. If the bear’s listening, they want it to know they’ve got numbers.

“Hey, bear,” Waylon calls as he walks. “Hey, bear, we’re just passing through, bear! Be cool, bear!”

Sam’s jangly and nervous. “Damn,” he says to Chester, “I ain’t ever seen one so close.”

“Hopefully you’ll never see one closer,” Chester says grimly.

“You got that right.”

They cross the meadow. Hardy follows a track that only he can see. The hawk still arcs through the sky above them.

They’re almost across the clearing when they hear a crashing sound. It’s coming from the trees to the north.

Chester whips around. The bear’s charging toward them at full speed. The animal’s head is low, its ears are back, and its stride eats the ground. Terror floods Chester’s body, paralyzing him. Hardy reaches for his gun but somehow stumbles sideways. Ray Farley screams as he grabs for his bear spray. The bear’s thirty feet away, then twenty. Chester’s never seen anything so huge in his life.

Ray holds the can out, still screaming, and fires a white cloud into the bear’s face. The mist of hot pepper extract sears Chester’s eyes. The bear, hit with the full blast, stops and veers away. For a second it looks like it’s going to run off into the woods. But then it whirls back, skirting the billows of bear spray. It goes after Sam Dean. A huge hairy paw sends the skinny farmer flying. Then the bear’s on top of him. Sam Dean screams and curls into a ball and covers his head and neck with his hands.

Chester’s mind is short-circuiting, but he finds that he can move. And he doesn’t need to think. He’s got his pistol out and he’s aiming by instinct.

Crack! The bullet hits the bear’s flank.

The bear turns and snaps its jaws in confusion at the wound.

“Go!” Chester shouts at the top of his lungs. “Go!” Go before someone else shoots to kill!

The bear runs.

Vanishes.

Jimmy shoots a distress flare into the sky— Where the hell did he get that? Chester wonders—and it explodes like a firework over their heads. And Chester races over to Sam Dean, who’s sobbing and bleeding on the ground.