by Danika Stone
“There’s something out there waiting for us, and it ain’t no man.”
BILLY, PREDATOR
JANELLE HOLLAND JOINED the other searchers in the early afternoon. It had taken her nearly a full day to get the paperwork for the school division in order and the police reports finished, to say nothing of dealing with three very angry parents. She’d arranged to take the two emergency days allotted by her teaching contract before she crashed for six solid hours in the barracks of the police station. Waking, she’d caught a ride with Constable Wyatt back to Red Rock Canyon. The parking lot teemed with vehicles and new searchers getting ready to head out.
“Be safe out there,” Wyatt said as Janelle climbed from the squad car. “Stay with your team. Watch out for wildlife.”
“I will.”
“Bears in particular,” the officer added.
“Understood.”
“If you find anything, have one of the wardens call it in to town. We’ve got helicopters searching the area. They can pick you up.”
“Got it.”
The officer opened his mouth, then closed it again. He frowned. “And just be … careful, Janelle. There are bears out there.”
She nodded and walked away.
* * *
The bear was three times Vale’s size, with blondish-brown fur, a flat, sloping face, and a large hump over its shoulders. It reached into the bushes for a mouthful of berries, and she got a clear look at its dished profile and massive shoulders. Her breath caught, terror arriving like a kick to the gut. My God! It’s a grizzly! More dangerous than their black bear cousins, they were to be avoided at any cost, but especially when feeding. Vale had just wandered into the same berry patch this grizzly had claimed. If it saw her, she was dead!
The bear grabbed another mouthful of berries and leaves and tugged them off the branch, eating them with openmouthed enjoyment, lips smacking. It hadn’t seen her … yet. It would if it kept going this way.
Vale fought the urge to run. Do that, and she’d surely be chased. Stay calm, and she had a chance. Snippets of her father’s camping advice flashed to mind. Grizzlies were the most dangerous of the forest animals. They kept to high alpine slopes. They hunted only when they needed to, but they were fiercely protective of kills. You should never hold eye contact with one. They’d take it as a challenge. Grizzlies were fearless; they’d take on any animal … and they’d almost certainly win. The best advice was to back away. Be quiet. And if they attacked you, play dead.
“If it comes to it, Vale, you just lie there and let the bear chew on you.”
“But how am I supposed to do that, Dad?”
“You be quiet. Go limp. ’Cause the longer you scream and kick, the longer the attack will last…”
If Vale had been wearing her backpack, she would have set it down in front of her as a distraction, but everything Vale had was back at camp. She hadn’t even been carrying a bag with her!
The grizzly lumbered forward, snuffling the bushes. Fifty feet … forty … thirty … Vale’s breath hitched. If the bear saw her standing here, this was it. The end. No one would ever know what had happened to her. The grizzly took a few steps closer. She was caught between the urge to run and stay.
Can’t move! But I can’t stay here either!
Suddenly, the sound of leaves moving interrupted. The marmot! Hearing it, the bear swung around, turning its back to Vale. It roared. The sound echoed through the glade with an intensity that turned Vale’s knees watery. The bushes rustled again, and the bear stepped toward the source of the sound, huffing angrily. The marmot is in the berry patch! The grizzly took two stiff-legged steps, heading directly into the foliage. It growled low in its throat, moving toward the sound. First its front shoulders disappeared, then the back legs and finally the tail as the bushes closed behind it.
Vale sprinted away from the chokecherry bushes without a second thought. Behind her, the bear roared a second time. Her shoulders tensed, and she skidded to a stop. A second passed … two … and then the grizzly roared again. This time, the sound was farther away.
The bear’s going after the marmot.
With this in mind, Vale jumped back into motion. Need to get out of here! Adrenaline surged through her body, sharpening her senses. Her ankle ached with every step, but she didn’t slow. She could feel the dying warmth of the sun on her shoulders, feel the nip of the late afternoon air, smell the pine forest and the sour-sweet tang of the berries she’d trodden underfoot. She struggled the last few steps to the camp she’d left behind. The fire was burning cheerfully, the lean-to waiting. Spending today putting the camp back together suddenly felt like another mistake.
“My God! I can’t stay here!” Vale hissed, grabbing her backpack and tucking things into it. “Need to get out of this valley.”
A marmot and a skunk, even elk, Vale could avoid. But a grizzly? She was in its territory, and there was no way that would end well. As the sun dropped in the sky, Vale came up with a plan: Pack tonight. Start walking tomorrow morning. It’d be slow going, but she’d stand a better chance of surviving if she did.
Vale tossed the foil emergency blanket into her bag, then headed for the shelter.
It doesn’t matter how slowly I go, as long as I don’t stop.
* * *
In the twelve hours since Ash had walked away from their camp, the snows had mostly melted, but bits of slush clung in the shadowy north sides of the hills, making the hike back to camp an obstacle course. Each step he took was torture, each breath a new level of pain. There was a sick, grating sensation deep inside his rib cage, and it grew sharper with each jarring footstep. Broken ribs, his mind noted. Bone grinding against bone. No matter how carefully he walked, the ragged flares of pain grew, expanding until it filled every thought.
Walk, the voice yelled. Walk or DIE. There was no in-between.
Ash was halfway through the trees when the sun began to set. During the lingering twilight hour when the sky shifted from purple to black, the temperature lowered. His breath hung in the air in white wisps, his fingers numb. Still Ash pressed on. The pain didn’t matter, nor did the cold. Nothing mattered except the driving need to put one foot in front of the other.
Got to keep moving. Got to get back to Vale.
The trees grew closer together as he dropped in elevation. Unable to see clearly, Ash stumbled and collapsed. Stars flashed in his vision as pain stabbed up through his wounded arm, and he lost consciousness. He woke a short time later, shivering and cold. The abraded skin of his face lay against a skiff of snow. His nose was stuffy with blood. He tried to move, then fell back. Ash’s right arm was useless. It dangled obscenely at his side. Something inside his shoulder was off, and he had no way to fix it. He tried to move, but the effort left him fighting the urge to scream.
Got to keep walking. Got to get back to Vale. MOVE!
Resisting the urge to lie down again—to give up—he forced his left arm underneath his chest and pushed with all his might. His muscles shook as he hoisted himself upward, crawling from his knees to his legs once more. The world spun around him. He tottered.
Just … Keep … Going …
He forced himself to walk again.
The sky darkened to solid black, and the stars came out, followed by the moon. Twice Ash tripped and fell to the ground, tearing up his knees. The pain gave flashes of insight. Something was broken inside him, and unless he got help, he wasn’t going to get through it. Walk, Ash! WALK! Panic forced him to continue.
With the arrival of nightfall, the sounds of the forest faded. For a long while, there was only the crunch of his footsteps and the wind through the trees, and then a new sound reached Ash’s ears. From far away, in a valley to the northwest, came a plaintive howl. Ash’s knees went weak, a primitive fear—hardwired deep into his DNA—arriving in a rush of terror.
“Wolves,” he gasped, and struggled to make his shaking legs move faster.
In more than one of the RPG games Ash played, wolves were preda
tors. He knew absolutely nothing about them in real life (and Vale wasn’t here for him to ask), but the fear he felt was intense.
A few seconds after the first howl, a second wolf’s voice answered from the valley to the south. Ash stumbled, almost fell, righted himself again. Need to hurry! Ash knew he’d never survive an attack. A third howl joined the chorus, then a fourth. Ash’s breath grew sharp.
Got to HURRY!
As the cacophony of howls filled the night, the scent of smoke reached his nostrils. He turned. Through the screen of trees, a dot of light appeared. The sight of it renewed his strength. He staggered forward, pushed on by the sound of howling. The fire was warmth. The fire was safety. And—inasmuch as it could be in the middle of the Rocky Mountains—the fire meant home.
With this in mind, Ash shoved past the pain.
Soon he could make out the lake. A sturdy new lean-to had been built in a knot of trees close to its shores, and a bright fire cast a dancing light before it. A minute later, the silhouette of Vale appeared as she moved from place to place, gathering items, carrying them out next to the fire, and tucking them into her backpack. Ash smiled, though the expression hurt.
Should have told her I was leaving this morning. It was stupid to take off like that.
“Vale,” he said, but his voice came out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the wind and wolves.
Ash stumbled a few more feet. His strength was gone. The camp was so close! He wove unsteadily toward the edge of the clearing, his vision slowly spiraling down into a pinprick. His legs gave out as he stepped from the woods and he caught himself with his good arm.
“Vale!”
She spun around, her mouth falling open. Her face was white with terror as she stumbled back toward the fire.
“V-Vale…?” he croaked.
Her eyes widened. “My God! Ash,” she gasped, “is that you?” Her expression flicked from fear to concern in a heartbeat. “What happened?”
“I—I was trying to—to…” He wobbled, words escaping him.
“I thought you left me.” She dropped the wood down in the pile, heading toward him. “I thought—” Her eyes widened as she neared. “Oh my God! You’re covered in blood. What happened?”
“I—I tried—I—” He staggered.
“Whoa! You look awful. Sit down before you…”
Ash didn’t hear the rest. Sight and sound faded as he tumbled to the ground, his face cradled by the moist soil. And in his mind he just kept falling.
* * *
Vale’s brain wouldn’t add up what she was seeing. Ash is back! She wanted to know why he left, but as soon as she dropped her backpack and limped to his side, her confusion was tempered by fear. He looked like he’d been put through a blender.
She crouched at his side. “Ash?”
No answer.
Vale shook him, and he mumbled something incoherent. “Ash? What happened to you today?” With him unconscious, there was no way to be sure, but it looked like he’d taken a beating and lost. Vale’s stomach dropped. Or the bear I saw attacked him. She rolled him onto his back, exposing the right side of his face. “Oh no, no, no … Not this!”
Temple to cheek had been scraped and slashed. By what, Vale couldn’t hazard a guess. It was definitely too evenly scored to be a bear attack, but it looked like he’d run his entire right side down a cheese grater. Bits of skin were caked in the clots of blood, and his right eye was almost completely swollen closed. Her stomach rolled as she saw the flecks of dirt packed into the mess.
Vale shook him. “Ash? I need you to wake up. What happened?”
Nothing.
Vale tipped his face so she could see the other side. Barring a few bloody marks in his hairline, it looked all right. She tipped his face back so she could see the right side again. Her stomach churned. “Ugh … Gross,” she moaned. “I’m going to have to clean that up. Aren’t I?”
Ankle throbbing, Vale sat back on her heels and stared at him for several seconds. She, Ash, and the rest of the students doing a camping trip as part of their physical education class had been forced to sit through three sessions of first aid training. It had been mostly theoretical, but Ash’s injuries were all too real. Vale drew on those classes now. She undid Ash’s coat and eased it down his arms. He cried out but didn’t wake as she reached his shoulder. Curious, Vale pulled the collar of his T-shirt out of the way.
“Oh heck no.”
His collarbone was definitely broken. A dark red bruise marred the area from neck to chest, and an inverted V of skin showed the bone jabbing through the layers of flesh. It hadn’t stabbed through the skin, but Vale wondered if it might. She looked away and took several slow breaths, forcing down the urge to vomit. She turned back, and her gaze dropped to his arm. “Gross, gross, gross…” His entire right arm looked a couple of inches too long. A wave of nausea lifted Vale’s stomach and dropped it again. The arm’s out of joint.
“Deal with that later,” she muttered. “Got to check vitals first.”
With Ash out for the count, it was easy enough to assess him. He cried out when she dragged him toward the fire, but didn’t wake. Prodding his ribs elicited another cry of pain. Ribs must be broken too, Vale thought. Neither of his legs were broken—he’d walked back to camp—nor his arms. Vale stared at him for several long seconds, fear slowly winding its way around her chest. There was a bear in the valley. Elk too. The lake was obviously drawing animals in, and that meant that the longer they stayed, the more likely a confrontation would be.
Vale chewed her lower lip, fighting the urge to scream. At least he didn’t abandon me. Frustrated, she let out an angry huff, then scooted over to his left side. “Have to ask you what happened later,” she said. “But for now, let’s figure this out.” Maybe this is for the better, she thought. If Ash was awake, he’d be in pain. “Just going to get you fixed up, then try to wake you up again. We can’t stay here. You know that, right? We just can’t.” The coat Ash wore was still tangled around his arms, so she tugged the sleeves past his hands and slid the jacket out from under him. She set it aside, then put her hand to his neck. His skin was hot to the touch. Vale frowned. “You’re running a fever. That’s not good.”
There were too many things wrong with him, and she didn’t know where to begin. If he’d been awake, she would have given him the acetaminophen she had in the kit to dull the pain, but he hadn’t woken despite her rough handling. Vale’s attention turned back to Ash’s prone form.
“First things first,” she said grimly. “Got to deal with the ribs.”
She had no idea what to do with the arm, but she did know that the only way to manage broken ribs was to bind them up. If Ash had been able to sit up, it would have been easy. The issue was that Ash was out cold. She tugged his shirt up and out of the way. The blood drained from her cheeks.
“Oh, Ash…,” she murmured. “This is so bad.”
Ash’s torso was a mass of bruises. On the right side, the bruises varied from deep purple to bright red, with a few punctuated spots of color on the other side. She touched the darkest spot on his ribs and pressed lightly. Ash flinched under her hand. She jerked her fingers away and took a shaky breath. Definitely broken. This whole situation was so impossibly awful. He’s going to die if I don’t help. Vale was trapped by that knowledge. With a shake of her head, she turned her gaze to her own ankle and unwound the scarf from around it.
“Need to work with what we’ve got here, Ash,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “I’m going to try to be careful, but tell me if it hurts too much, all right?”
Ash slept on.
She took one end of the scarf and shoved it under him, then leaned across him so she could reach around the other side. Her chin dropped down to his chest, and she grimaced. She could just barely get her arms around Ash’s chest, but no farther. He was more than a foot taller than she was, and the height made all the difference. She couldn’t catch hold of the other side of the scarf. Vale couldn’t lean on his broken
ribs to do it either.
“All right,” she said, letting go of the fabric and sliding her hands free. “First plan failed. Guess we’ll try something else.”
Vale hobbled over to Ash’s right side, surprised that her ankle didn’t feel any worse unwrapped than wrapped. She crouched down next to him.
“What to do, huh…?”
She didn’t want to touch his damaged shoulder, but there was no other choice; it was in the way. Ever so gently she lifted his arm and laid the forearm above his head, the way she so often put her arm as she slept. She’d just lowered it to the ground when she felt something pop under her fingers. Vale gasped and jerked back, letting go of Ash’s arm.
“Oh God. What have I done?” But Ash didn’t scream or show any discomfort at all, and—as Vale leaned in to inspect the arm—it no longer seemed quite as stretched out as it had before. The dislocation had pulled back into position, leaving Vale with room to deal with Ash’s ribs. “Well, that’s good, then. Hold on,” she said as she slid her hands under one side. “Just got to—”
She tipped him up slightly, and Ash shrieked in pain: “STOP!” His eyes opened for a second before rolling back up into his head.
“I’m sorry!” Vale yelped, almost dropping him. “I just need to wrap this.”
Ash’s head lolled to the side, unconscious once more.
She caught hold of the end of the fabric and tugged it tight, then moved to the other side and did the same thing a second time. This time Ash gasped but didn’t scream. The third time, he didn’t make a sound at all. The damaged ribs were bound, his arm in place. Vale turned her attention to his face.
“Oh gross … this is going to be nasty,” she said as she got a good look at his features. One eye was completely swollen, but by firelight, Vale could see the mess of scrapes and contusions. The mud that packed them was what worried her. “Ash, I know you can’t hear me, but … this one’s going to hurt. Okay? I’m sorry about that.”
Vale set his coat on top of him and grabbed her water canteen. She jogged to the nearby lake and filled the bottle. When she returned, she set the canteen into the fire, waiting while the water boiled. During the time it took, she checked Ash’s vitals again. He seemed to be breathing more easily, and didn’t cry out when she checked him. He didn’t wake up, though. She took a few minutes and laid his damaged arm across his chest. There was nothing she could do for the collarbone, but at least this way it wasn’t trying to poke through the skin. His breathing grew slower until Vale bumped him.
