by Keri Hudson
“Of course,” Jason said. “The way fracking works is this: They’re looking for natural gas trapped under layers of rock. So they fracture the rock to release the gas, hence the term fracking.”
“And it’s the natural gas that’s making people sick?”
“No,” Jason explained. “See, they pump in a mixture of water and silt, fine rocks and pebbles, which are coated with certain chemicals. The silt is there to keep the fractures open after the water drains out. The gas can then pass through those openings. But the chemicals they use on this silt, chemicals necessary to keep the rocks from sticking together and to keep the whole process flowing smoothly, that’s the source of the toxicity. Those chemicals wash off with the water and into the water tables and soil of the surrounding areas which are pierced by the mine drilling. Try as they have, and I know they experiment with different concoctions and cocktails and the like, but those chemicals seem central to the process, and those chemicals are killing people all over our nation.”
Kyle Keller nodded. “Killing people?”
“Killing them. Reports of cancer, asthma, and other long-term health detriments skyrocket in these areas. And when those who stand against them wind up shot in the back of the head on a dirt road? They’ve gone beyond corporate villainy.”
The host nodded, but wore a serious expression on his perfectly symmetrical face. “It’s important to note that no charges against Armstrong Corporation, or anybody, have been filed.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Jason said with a shrug. “And for legal purposes, I’m not making any accusations. But they haven’t come out against the killings, and the fact that all three were members of the ICU means it’s significant. If Armstrong doesn’t recognize that significance, or their sacrifice, not even with a notice of well wishes to their family? That’s the kind of company the American people are willing to embrace. It’s… it’s disgusting and it’s tragic.”
“But not illegal.”
“Not that we can prove.” Jason glared into the camera, as if speaking directly to Brandon Malone himself. “Not yet, anyway.” Turning deliberately back to his interviewer, Jason went on, “But what’s important is that the people of Boulder, of all Colorado, Americans everywhere, stand up against fracking whenever and wherever it rears its ugly head.”
“And how can they do that, Mr. Corruthers?”
“Peaceful, public protest, just as the ICU has always done. We’re going to have a sit-in on the property they plan to mine, a protest that includes as many people as we can fit on that plateau. The exact location is on our site, ICU.org. Folks, come and show these parasites that you care about your planet, your country, your neighborhood, and your neighbors… your children and your husbands and wives and parents. That’s who and what we are fighting for... fighting and dying for, I might add.”
The interviewer looked into the camera. “We reached out to Armstrong Corporation, but received no response. We welcome their contribution at any time. Until then, this is Kyle Keller, Boulder 8 TV News.”
Bazz hit the mute button and turned to Phoebe and Freddie. “He’s really not bad,” Bazz said with a little grin.
“He’s a good man,” Freddie said, “a warrior.”
Bazz had to huff up a little chuckle, but the shake of his head told the real story. “He leads like a warrior, probably fights like a warrior.” After a pause to consider, Bazz asked, “You sure he didn’t have anything to do with that shooting?”
Phoebe and Freddie shared a confused shrug. Phoebe said, “We wouldn’t lie to you, Bazz. You saved our lives.”
“I’m not saying you lied, but… he might have?” In the uncomfortable moment, Bazz added, “Just something to consider, that’s all.”
Freddie said, “Look, just because he didn’t like you doesn’t make him wrong.”
“No, of course not. You don’t like me, and that doesn’t make you wrong. Makes you smart, cautious. But this guy, he’s not cautious. And that tells me he’s hedging his bets, that’s all.”
Phoebe looked down as she clearly gave the sad possibility some thought.
“And of course you both know you’ll be exposing yourselves,” Bazz went on. “Go to that protest, you’re back on the kill list.”
“Maybe not,” Freddie said. “He took his chance, what happened, happened. I don’t think he’s going to risk doing something like that again. He was lucky to get away with it the first time, he's got to know that.”
“So you do think it was this Brandon Malone who had you kidnapped, hired those rednecks to kill you and your friends?”
“Sure as hell do,” Freddie said. “Not that we can prove it… yet.”
“Getting killed won’t prove it,” Bazz said. “It does prove other things, though.”
Phoebe asked, “What’s that?”
“That you’re both good and decent people, doing the right things for the right reasons. That you’re brave and ready to fight, that you’d both do your parents proud, I’m sure.” A slow, tender quiet passed between them before Bazz added, “But you’re also young, both of you, your lives ahead of you. After what happened to your friends, you have to know what’s on the line.”
Phoebe and Freddie traded a little nod, but their natural fear was clear to Bazz.
“We have to do this,” Phoebe said. “Jason was right, we’ve come too far to turn back now.”
Bazz looked at Freddie, who nodded his agreement. Bazz said, “All right, then, we’ll go down there and show ‘em where they can stick their fracking gas mining operation!”
CHAPTER NINE
Bazz surveyed the plateau where the ICU and their local supports gathered with signs and shouts and angry fists waving over their heads. They seemed about three hundred strong, occupying the plateau earmarked for mining by the Armstrong mining company. But they’d constructed a chain-link fence and signs designating it as private property, preventing the ICU and their forces from creating the human shield they hoped would protect the land.
“No fracking way,” the crowd chanted, Jason goading them on. “No fracking way, no fracking way!” They were blocking the entrance to the site, and that would stop the trucks and the workers scheduled to begin work. “No fracking way, no fracking way!”
But they weren’t alone. The forces against the fracking company were met by just as many, if not more, big, burly union men with axe handles in their hands and probably worse in concealment. Their signs, few as they were, read things like, Don’t Take Our Jobs! and Snowflakes Go Home!
They shouted profanities and promises of physical violence.
Boulder news reporter Kyle Keller stood on the outskirts of the crowd, looking into a camera, a long, black mic in his hand.
“…where protestors and counter-protestors seem poised to come to a head. Some are here to protest against the fracking as ecologically unsound, but the other faction seems determined to protect the jobs that the fracking company will bring. This is the same controversy believed to have visited the three unlucky young men found assassinated in the mountains above Boulder just a few days ago.”
He turned to take a look at the clamoring crowd around them. Their voices were getting louder, insults rising through the din. Kyle turned to face the camera again.
“It’s not the only violence associated with these protests. The same two groups went head to head in a similar situation in Camelback, Arizona, earlier this year. The natural gas mining company, Armstrong, backed down from that project after a lone shooter disrupted a protest and almost took the life of Armstrong CEO and head spokesperson, Brandon Malone.”
Something flew at Kyle from behind. He ducked and stepped back, his cameraman following him. “What was that, a rock? They’re throwing rocks now? Okay, let’s back up a bit.” Into the camera, Kyle went on, “Police and fire department forces are at the ready, but with a crowd of an estimated one thousand people or more, there’s no saying what could happen or how bad it could be. But signs of violence are already starting to break
out.”
Bazz looked out over the crowd, pulsing with defiance and a nearly uncontrollable anger. He was standing next to Phoebe, Freddie on her other side. Phoebe turned to Bazz, hands on his chest as she took some shelter in his presence. He was glad she looked for it there, and even more glad to be able to provide it.
But the fact remained that they were facing the chance of mortal peril, peril that could still take Phoebe’s life and perhaps even his own.
“These rednecks,” Bazz said to Phoebe, “riled up by the fracking company. And it was rednecks who nabbed you and killed your friends.”
Phoebe nodded, her eyes also on the crowd. “And nobody from Armstrong anywhere in sight.”
“After the shooting broke out in Arizona,” Bazz said, “easy to see why not. And if anything like that happens, I want you to stick close to me. Understand?”
“Why? You packin’ heat?”
Bazz huffed at the irony. “In a manner of speaking. I... I just don’t want you to get lost in the crowd.” Just the thought of losing her to a boiling crowd of maddened vandals and thugs was enough to make Bazz reconsider his affection for the humans he spent so much time with and so much dedication protecting.
Phoebe smiled coyly. “Because you don’t want me to get hurt?”
“That’s right.”
“Because you’re falling in love with me?”
That made Bazz’s head turn, but he was too overwhelmed with conflicting feelings to express any one of them. Instead, he stammered a bit, looking over the crowd. “Let’s just get through this in one piece.”
Bazz looked away, but from the corner of his eye, he could see she was still smiling .
The crowd shouted louder, rocks starting to fly from one side to the other. Police forces started moving in, riot gear and shields, batons and teargas and rifles with rubber bullets ready to quell a riot.
A rock flew at Bazz and Phoebe. He pushed her down and the stone flew just over their heads. Freddie looked around, astonishment clear on his clean-shaven face. “What the fuck?”
Another rock flew at them, hitting Freddie in the arm. “Oh, shit, that’s it!”
Phoebe shouted, “Freddie!”
But it was too late. Freddie had already picked up the rock and thrown it hard into the redneck side of the crowd. Another rock flew back and Freddie threw himself into the crowd instead.
“Freddie!”
Bazz pulled Phoebe back, but she resisted him. “My brother’s in there!”
“It won’t help him for you to be hurt!” He pulled her away a bit further, but the violence only spread, rocks and bottles tossed from one side to the other, little groups of men throwing punches at each other. The cops moved in, but they were radically outnumbered, and they best served the city by containing the crowd instead of suppressing every little squabble. Of course, there was the very pressing chance that the violence would spread and make the crowd uncontainable, but the moment was happening right before their eyes, and there was little enough time to think things out.
The crowd erupted into a full-blown riot, everybody clustering into raucous groups of men throwing punches and kicks, axe handles and knife blades flashing in the sun.
A group rushed Bazz and Phoebe, and the two were quickly separated by the throngs. Bazz held his hand out and Phoebe did the same, men suddenly surrounding him. Bazz threw a hard punch, contact with one redneck sending his head snapping to the side, but it didn’t put him off his feet. Another guy smashed his face into Bazz’s face, hard on the nose. The vibration of the contact ran through his head, another punch to the gut driving the wind from his lungs. He could almost hear Phoebe scream his name, but the men around him threw a flurry of kicks and punches, ready to beat him to death right there and then.
There was only one way to save himself and Phoebe.
Bazz shifted fast, body swelling up many times its human size, rising up and throwing his attackers back with a roar and a swipe of his massive, ursine hand. The men fall back, those who were still conscious scrambling back in terror.
Bazz knew he’d revealed himself, and that his only cover was the scramble of the riot around him. But a thousand-pound ursine shifter would be hard to hide even in that turmoil. Bazz zeroed in on the crowd of men near him, able to smell Phoebe’s distinctive scent amid their frothing aggression.
Bazz tore through them, fast swipes tearing chunks from one man’s torso, the other flying off like a rag doll. Phoebe lay at the center of their attention, on her back on the grass. She seemed in a daze, bruised and battered. But she had enough sense to focus on the hideous monster looming over her. She took a moment to digest it, then screamed out in mortal terror.
Bazz scooped her up under his arm and made a break for it, running on three legs into the nearby boxelder and nettled hackberry. Phoebe went slack in his arms, and he sensed that she had fainted. Bazz didn’t turn to look back, but he assumed that he’d been spotted even in that crazed riot. His only hope was to get to cover as soon as he could, get Phoebe to safety, and then get as far away from there as possible.
CHAPTER TEN
Bazz carried the unconscious Phoebe under his arm, deep into the woods above Boulder. He pulled her high and fast up the slope, with strength and agility no human could match on foot. But the protest had included police who might have all-terrain vehicles which would give them an edge.
Bazz was far from their destination, but it gave him more distance between them and the chaos behind them. And that would make all the difference. Weaving through the bigtooth maples, Bazz carried Phoebe higher, westward, to a slope almost unreachable by many.
He finally reached his cabin, which he had built himself on sabbatical two years before. He shifted back into his human form and cradle-carried Phoebe to the cabin. He lay her down on his bed and turned to his closet for some of the clothes he’d stashed there for precisely that reason.
He took a moment to enjoy her calm repose, such a contrast to the scramble of her waking life. She was a fighter, a warrior, and he admired and liked and even already loved her for it. But he also knew she was in for the fight of her life, against enemies she could never defeat on her own, or with her brother and protector.
But instead of a fighter, he saw a sleeping angel, soft curves and a pretty face lying in silent slumber. She was innocent, pure, untouched and untouchable. He wanted to devour her, and to ensure she remain forever untouched. He had to have her, a vestal virgin in his life of sin.
Phoebe started to stir just as he poured them both some tea. She bolted awake, looking around with wide, startled eyes. She took in the rustic log cabin. “What... what the hell?”
“It’s okay,” Bazz said, handing her a cup of tea, “you’re fine, you’re safe here.”
She clearly searched her memory, and Bazz could see she didn’t like what she was finding there. “Freddie, where’s Freddie?”
“Back with your friends, I suppose.”
Phoebe nodded, but something else startled her again. “Wait... what was that thing? Like... a bear? It was gonna kill me! You think it’s the same bear that killed those gunmen on the mountain road?”
“I, uh, I think there may be a connection, yes.”
Phoebe shook her head. “How long have I been out?”
Bazz glanced out the window to judge the daylight. “About two hours.”
Phoebe seemed to think it through, pulling her smartphone out of her pocket. She swiped the screen a few times, Bazz shifting positions to sit next to her to see the screen himself. She pulled up YouTube and it wasn’t long before she found a video of the riot.
They found a lot of handheld footage, even Kyle Keller’s cameraman’s work, too erratic to catch the action. But somebody did manage to catch a flash of the big bear-like creature running from the scene with a young woman tucked under his arm.
Phoebe looked at the screen, pointing at the bear. “See? That’s it, that... and…” She looked around the cabin, then back at Bazz with a new fear in her eyes
. “You were there the last time the bear saved me too.” Another moment passed as Phoebe seemed to put the mystery together, at least as far as common sense would allow.
Bazz would have to take it up from there.
“I… I don’t understand, Bazz.”
“All right, well, it’s hard to explain, but… you know how some people have kind of a… a double life?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
“Bazz? What?”
“It’s hard to explain. Maybe if I just showed you.”
“All right, fine.”
Bazz stood up and stepped to the center of the large cabin. “Okay, don’t freak out.”
“I won’t, I promise.” Bazz took off his clothes and tossed them onto the couch. “Bazz, what are you doing?”
“Just… trust me.” Once naked, Bazz stood quietly for a moment, then shifted fast. His claws sprang out, muscles swelled up, dense fur bursting from his thick hide. He could feel the ursine taking over his body, his human reasoning taking a back seat to his primitive self. But both sides of him could see that she was half in shock at what she was seeing.
Bazz shifted back into his human form and casually reached for his clothes, Phoebe sitting stunned, eyes wide, mouth agape.
“I know,” Bazz said, buttoning his shirt. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I… but… you…”
“You must have a lot of questions. I was born this way, my father was a shifter. Kept the peace with the lupes, but one day they got him.”
“L-l-l-l-lupes?”
“Lupine shifters, wolves. I’m an ursine, my non-human self is bearlike.”
“Bearlike?”
“A bit bigger, more agile, a few human characteristics no bear can have. It’s complicated.”
Phoebe shook her head. “It’s… c-c-c-complicated?”
“We’ve always been here, part of the natural balance of the earth. For thousands of years we’ve gone unnoticed. But... the lupes are getting restless, anxious to increase their numbers and take over. It’s up to us to stop them; ursines, I mean. Not you.”
