Christmas, Pursued by a Bear

by Ryann Fletcher

  “Yeah. Deer are one thing to clear out, but a bear? We’re not taking out any bears with rifles this caliber. We’ll need, I dunno, a fifty cal, or something.”

  “Heh. Ever been bear hunting? You sit in a tree stand—”

  Andie clutched her legs to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Hey! There’s someone up there!”

  “It’s a girl!”

  “I don’t give a shit who it is, we’re under strict orders here. If anyone knew about—”

  “Shut up, you donkey-brained fuck, we don’t need to give her any other ideas.” He pointed his rifle at the tree stand. “Why don’t you come on out, then?” he asked. “Promise we won’t hurt you, we just have to ask a couple of questions.”

  Andie felt sick. “Fuck off!” she shouted.

  “What are you doing out here? You poaching?”

  She considered her options. “No.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing up there?”

  “I’m a photographer.”

  The second man pointed his rifle, too. “Shit, man, I bet she works for the fucking press.”

  “I’m up here to photograph animals. I’m willing to forget this ever happened, if you just carry on down the path. I won’t breathe a word of it.”

  “Throw down your camera.”

  She’d just gotten her camera back! “Hell no,” she answered. “I didn’t take any pictures of you.”

  “Throw it down, or things will get ugly,” the first man said, his finger drifting toward the trigger. “You know what they say about tree stands, dangerous things. Most people don’t survive a fall from one of those.”

  “They’d find the bullet holes, you turkeys.”

  “Yeah, in a broad that fell out of a tree stand. You can betcha the rangers will chalk it up to a poaching gone wrong. It’s no skin off our nose if you live or die.”

  The second one looked through his scope. “Yeah.”

  “How do I know you won’t just take my camera?” Andie asked.

  “What use do I have for a fucking camera?” the second one replied with a laugh. “Come on, babe, just toss it down.”

  Andie hesitated. “It’s an expensive camera.”

  “What’s worth more, the camera or your life?” the first one said. “Don’t be stupid, just throw it down.” He set the rifle on the ground. “I’ll catch it, promise.”

  “You better,” she said, tossing the camera from her perch. Her stomach somersaulted as it flew through the air, until it landed in the man’s outstretched hands.

  “Thank you.” He scanned the empty photo gallery. “Nothing on here. What did you do, delete them?”

  “I didn’t take any yet, I told you. Been a slow night so far.”

  The second man kept his rifle trained at her perch. “You looking for that bear?”

  “What bear?” Andie lied.

  “The fucking bear, you two-bit hack,” he spat. “What did you do, upload the photos remotely and then delete them off the camera?”

  Andie only wished her camera did that. “No, that camera is too old. Only the newer ones do that, and needs some kind of wi-fi, anyway.”

  “What do you think, man? Do you think she’s telling the truth?” the first man said, setting the camera down in the leaves and picking up his rifle. “Or do you think she’s bullshitting us?”

  “Where did you upload them to?” the second man demanded, his voice growing quieter and more menacing. “Tell us, right now.”

  “I didn’t fucking upload them!” Andie hissed.

  The first man pulled the trigger and sent a bullet whizzing past her head. “I said, where—”

  A deafening roar came from behind the men, sending them staggering in fright. The bear emerged, dwarfing them in its shadow. It swiped at the first man, knocking the rifle to the ground. Its ears were pinned back, its fur muddy from the wet forest floor. The second man fired wildly at the bear, and missed by a mile. The bear advanced on him, roaring so loud that you could see every deadly tooth. It lashed out at him, its claws easily slicing through his clothes like a hot knife through butter. Even from her height, Andie could see the blood bloom from his skin. He cried out and scrambled backwards, reaching for the gun again.

  The bear stepped on the rifle and dragged it away, getting between the men and their weapons. It clamored again, the sound echoing through the trees. The men staggered to their feet and ran further into the woods, calling for help. The bear stared up at the tree stand, where Andie was gripping the seat with white knuckles. “Thank you,” she said to the bear, before it tore off after the men.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cat sat in the cab of her truck in the parking lot of Jazzy Java, waiting. She had to know if Andie got her camera back, and if she… well, if she found what she’d been looking for. Any reports of bears in that reserve would bring the poachers running, armed to the teeth with huge guns and an agenda - and given the wider population of Applefield wouldn’t want bears around, it would be almost impossible to get the authorities to intervene. No one wanted dangerous animals in the park, not where their children played, no matter if the animals just wanted to be left the hell alone. Once they were cleared out, the development would break ground, and rents would skyrocket.

  She sighed angrily and smacked her palm against the steering wheel. They’d end up having to move again, she knew it, and this time it would end up being cross-country. It would mean Anita and the boys trying to transfer credits and apprenticeships, it would mean breaking another lease, leaving another place behind. Leaving Andie behind. Cat shook her head, desperate to clear the intrusive thoughts from her mind. Dating should be the furthest thing from her mind, given their almost inevitable forced relocation.

  It would be weird to wait outside her apartment, wouldn’t it? Yes, it would, and that’s why she was sitting in the parking lot, watching cars go in and out, watching for that little blue car. She felt like a stalker. She also felt bad about taking the SD card when she found Andie’s camera, but she actually had gotten a photograph of a bear’s silhouette. Not crisp enough to sell to a wildlife publication, but enough to get the rangers to start poking around if they saw it, and no one needed that. Guilt sat in her stomach like a brick and made her feel nauseous. This whole thing was stupid, and she was tired of fighting it. She was more tired of perpetually having to restart their lives, though, and that’s why she continued to sit, bored out of her mind and exhausted, trying to fake a chance run-in.

  Luke said he’d call if Andie stopped in during his shift, but he wasn’t the most focused twenty-one-year-old she’d ever met, and if it wasn’t a girl he was interested in, he probably wouldn’t even look up from the espresso machine. Boys, thought Cat, always chasing after some tail. The irony of her own presence in the parking lot, waiting for a girl, did not escape her.

  This would be much less complicated if Andie was a man.

  Cat closed her eyes for just a moment, feeling the dark relief of her eyelids. Her eyes were always dry after an all-nighter shift. Still, it was the last one until next month. She was achy and weak, like the early signs of a bad flu, but it was just another result of the night shift. She’d be feverish by nighttime, and have to spend the next few days in bed. It wasn’t the night shifts that kept her from finishing her nursing practical, it was the several days out of the month having to call in sick, and no employer looked at that favorably, and certainly not in the healthcare professions.

  Her eyes still closed, she smacked the steering wheel again to vent the frustration at such an unfair system. She jumped when the horn sounded, and snapped straight in her seat to see Andie, hand on the door of the cafe, staring right at her. Of course. Obviously the second she blinked, she’d show up. This definitely wasn’t awkward at all.

  Cat grinned stupidly and stumbled out of the car. “Hey, Andie!” she shouted across the parking lot.

  “Uh, hey,” Andie called back, still holding the door open. “Were you… waiting for me?”

&
nbsp; “What? Me? No!” Even to her, it sounded like bullshit. Cat did a weird half-jog to get to the door faster, the heels of her boots scraping against the asphalt.

  Andie cocked her head, her brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m great!” Cat replied, a little too loudly. Fucking hell, get it together, she thought. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine, just a bad night’s sleep.”

  “Stay up too late running away from rangers?”

  Cat stared. “What?”

  “It’s a joke. Because of a couple nights ago…”

  “A joke! Right. No, just hung out with my sister, ran some errands, you know.” She tugged at the hem of her ribbed sweater dress. “Nothing exciting.”

  “Are you coming in, or what?” Mara called from the counter. “Cat, nice to see you again - you know Luke isn’t off until seven, right?”

  “Er—yeah. Just… came in. For a coffee.”

  Mara raised an eyebrow. “Well that we have. What can I get you?”

  Cat hated coffee, in fact. She thought it smelled like burnt garbage, and hated when Luke’s work clothes stank up the laundry pile next to the machine. “Just a coffee.”

  “Drip? Black?”

  “…sure?”

  “Andie, what about you? We have bear claws in today, I know you like them.”

  Cat snorted. Of course Andie liked bear claws.

  “Yeah please, if you don’t mind,” Andie said, reaching for her messenger bag. “What do I owe you?”

  “Your money is no good here, I told you that. But if you wouldn’t mind getting a shot of that cute new reading nook in the corner…”

  Andie laughed. “Consider it done.” She set her bag on a squashy chair near the bar. “Left my camera in the car, I’ll go get it.”

  Cat perched awkwardly on the arm of the neighboring chair. Why was she acting like such a fool? Shifts made her feel a little loopy, sometimes, but never as bad as this. Mara handed her the coffee, and Cat struggled not to recoil from it. Why anyone drank this crap, she’d never know. She pretended to sip at it politely. “Mm,” she said, smiling at Mara. “It’s good.”

  “I’ve never seen you get a coffee in here. I was starting to think you weren’t much of a coffee drinker.”

  “Oh, I love coffee!” Cat lied. This was getting ridiculous.

  “Alright, got it,” Andie said as the bells on the door chimed playfully. “Be better with a model, though.” She nodded her head at Cat. “Care to be a model for a social media photo?”

  “Oh, I don’t look very good today, I—”

  “I think you look great!” Andie recoiled, her face like a deer caught in someone’s high beams. “I just mean, uh—”

  Cat sat in the book nook chair. “Alright, I’ll do it.” She knew she’d be replaying this interaction over and over in her mind later as she shivered underneath two blankets. “How’s this?” She presented the coffee in her hand like someone showing off a prize on a game show.

  “It’s a book nook, how about picking up something to read?” Mara said from the bar, laughing. “Don’t overthink it.”

  “Right.” She grabbed a copy of Moby Dick from the shelf and held it up. “How’s this?”

  “Pick something else,” Andie suggested, holding her camera in her hands. “That title would get lots of engagement on social I’m sure Mara doesn’t want.”

  “Oh. Gross.” She rifled through the small shelf and chose another one. “How about this illustrated guide to midwestern prairie plants?”

  “Perfect. And that’s right up your street, too.”

  “Heh. I guess it is.”

  Andie held up the camera. “Alright, look engrossed.”

  “Aye aye, captain,” she said, concentrating on the pages. This book was outdated as hell.

  The shutter clicked a few times. “That’s great. You look very convincing.”

  “Am I done?”

  “Yeah.” Andie bit her bottom lip, scrolling through the photos on her camera. Cat stood up and leaned over, trying to see the rest of the gallery, hoping there weren’t pictures of bears on there. “Mara, I’ll email this to you later, yeah?”

  “Sure, sure, whenever you get a chance. Here’s your latte and your bear claw.” Mara set a brown paper bag and a matching cup on the bar.

  “Oh, you’re not staying?” Cat asked, unable to disguise the note of disappointment in her voice.

  “I’ve got a work thing.”

  “I should have suspected, I mean, most people have work in the middle of the morning, don’t they?”

  “Did you want to talk, or something?”

  Cat tucked a tuft of aubergine hair behind her ear. “Just a coincidence again, I guess! I wanted to make sure your camera was okay. You didn’t say yesterday.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine, actually. I can’t thank you enough for rescuing it, I’d have been totally screwed without it, and water damage repairs would have been almost as much as my rent.”

  “Well, I assumed it was fine, because you were just using it.”

  Andie smacked her head with her palm. “Of course. God, you’d think I was the one running on no sleep.”

  “You’re sure it’s fine? All the… modes work correctly?”

  “All good.”

  Cat chewed on her lip. “Even the night mode?”

  “Yes?”

  “And you tried it, just to make sure?” She sounded ridiculous. It would have been easier and less embarrassing at this point to just break into Andie’s house and look at the camera herself. “No… problems with the flash or anything?”

  “I don’t really use a flash for night photography.”

  “Right. Well, I just wanted to make sure it was okay.”

  “Thanks.” Andie set the camera back into its case. “My SD card from that night went missing, though. Strange as the flap was closed, but I guess anything could have happened when I saw that bear. You didn’t find a little card out there did you?”

  Cat shrugged, almost performatively. “No.” She pretended to take a sip of the coffee, swallowing back a gag. “Still convinced you saw that bear?”

  “I’m positive I saw a bear.”

  Shit. “Why positive?”

  Andie zipped up her bag. “I just am.”

  “Did you see it again?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Just curious,” Cat replied nonchalantly. “You know, if you want, we could hike up the reserve together and look for it.”

  “I’d actually love that.”

  “Will you finally believe there are no bears if we search high and low and find nothing?”

  “You’ll see. Pack your running shoes, lady. Or your climbing shoes. Grizzlies aren’t very good at climbing. Did you know that?”

  “I did.”

  “So I’ll meet you up there tonight? How about at the fire pit?”

  Cat set the coffee down on the table, afraid it was going to make her retch. “Why not at the front gate?”

  “Fucking ranger banned me. Sorry, pardon my French.”

  “I told you they’re a bunch of assholes. What did they do, boot you out that next morning?”

  “Yup.”

  “Fuckers.”

  Andie laughed and sipped her coffee. “You can say that again.”

  “Alright, I will. They’re fuckers. Did you know they’re making people sign in now?”

  “No. Guess it doesn’t matter if you’re scaling the fence, though.”

  “Andie, don’t scale the fence.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s a gap in it closer to the highway. You’ll have to park at that old church and walk over, but it’s not so bad, and you won’t snag your jeans on the barbed wire.”

  “Something tells me that I’m not the only one who’s ever been banned from the reserve.”

  Cat smirked. “Something tells me you’re right.”

  “How about sunset tonight then, at the gap?”

  “It’s a date,” Cat replied, scrib
bling her phone number on a napkin and handing it over. “Er—I’ll see you there.” God, she needed to get some sleep, before she said something really stupid. Or something really incriminating.

  * * *

  Cat leaned against the trunk of an old, knobbed tree, watching the sun go down over the horizon through the trees. The air was crisp and clean, just the way she liked it, and when she breathed, clouds floated from her lips. Her stomach flip-flopped in anticipation of seeing Andie, or maybe it was nervousness about running into the ranger again. Maybe it was both.

  The gap in the fence was well hidden, cloaked behind a patch of convenient pine trees, their thick boughs obscuring where the barbed wire lay rusted and cut on the cold ground. It would frost overnight, she could feel it in the air, that wintery snap that blew through the wind. It wouldn’t be long before the big houses behind her put up elaborate displays of Christmas lights, each one trying to outdo the rest, running up exorbitant electric bills. It wasn’t like Cat to feel like such a miser this time of year, but their impending move had her feeling sour. Some of the folks in those mansions could do with a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past, if you asked her.

  She watched the path that led up to the old churchyard, waiting for Andie to appear. She knew she shouldn’t have come so early. She looked like some kind of obsessive weirdo just waiting there like that. Cars drove by on the nearby road, most of them going much too fast considering the temperature. Black ice was a hell of a way to go, and it would be rife on the streets after the damp weather. Cat checked her phone again, continuing to ignore the messages from her sister wanting to know every detail about her… well, it wasn’t a date, not really.

  Unless it was.

  No. Definitely not a date. Andie didn’t seem like the type that would be interested in her. She shouldn’t be getting all roped into something, anyway. Not when they’d be moving across the country again in a couple of months.

  Still, there was no rule saying she shouldn’t have fun while she could…

  “Argh!” she grunted to herself. It wasn’t like her to get hung up on a stranger, yet here she was, waiting to break into a park reserve. Like a complete freak.