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Eden's Legacy (Eden Rising Trilogy Book 3)

Page 3

by Andrew Cunningham


  Ben had been behind the rocks for almost three hours when he heard the sound of a pebble being kicked. It was faint, but it was the sound he'd been waiting for. He had to give them credit, they had been more patient than he figured they'd be. Whoever had kicked the pebble probably wasn't even aware of it, but Ben heard it and picked up his gun.

  Another sound. This time from off to his right. That meant there was probably someone else coming up on his left. They were planning to surround him. He had to make a decision quickly. If he waited for them to reach him, he could get them at almost point-blank range. But then again, they'd be point-blank range from him, and there were more of them. Or, he could shoot now and still have the cover of the rocks. It was a no-brainer.

  He rolled over onto his stomach and peeked around the right side of the rocks. His target was only 20 feet away, stepping carefully. Ben fired twice and the man went down. Rolling to his left, he saw the second man, now running toward him. Again, Ben fired twice, and again, the man went down. Ben looked over the top of the rocks. There were three others. It was the same five who had stopped him that day on the trail.

  Aware that he only had six bullets left, he took a quick shot at the closest man, who was about 25 feet away, and missed. His second shot brought him down.

  Four bullets and two men! They were moving quickly now, first to the left, then to the right, but closing in on Ben in the process. One of them was Weeks. Ben took two shots and missed with both. The other man slipped and fell to the ground, momentarily dazed. Ben took aim and shot, hitting the man in the leg. He cried out and dropped his rifle. Ben swung his gun back in the direction of Weeks, but the man was almost upon him. He fired and heard Weeks grunt. The bullet had struck him in the side, but hadn't stopped him. Weeks saw the slide retract on Ben's gun and knew it was empty. He shot and missed while running, then landed on Ben like a block of cement, swinging wildly at him with his fists.

  Later on, when Ben had time to reflect, he wondered why Weeks had done that. He could have stopped, aimed his pistol, and put an end to Ben once and for all. But he chose to physically attack him. It was Lila who cleared it up for Ben. She explained that Weeks's anger was so all-consuming, it was his only option. Shooting Ben would have ended it physically, but not emotionally. He had to feel Ben's pain.

  Ben, already weakened by his wound, didn't stand a chance against Weeks. Even though the man was also wounded, he was bigger and stronger than Ben. And he had anger on his side, an out of control rage that made him almost invincible. Weeks sat on Ben's stomach, pounding him in the neck and face, all the while screaming at him. In his haze, Ben almost thought Weeks was crying as he slugged away.

  Ben was losing consciousness. He knew that the moment he did, he was a dead man. Weeks would keep on pounding until there was no life left in Ben's body. Ben grabbed at the man's hips and tried to push him off, to no avail. He no longer had the strength.

  But then he felt it. Weeks had a knife sheath on his belt. Ben felt for the knife and grabbed hold of the hilt. It was a hunting knife, at least six inches long. He tried to pull it out, but something was holding it. A leather thong was fastened across the top of it to keep it from popping out of the sheath while he rode his horse.

  The blows were slowing down and were landing with less of an impact. It didn't matter. Weeks had done his job. Ben was almost gone. But he couldn't let it end this way, not after all he'd been through. He fumbled with the piece of leather and felt it pull free. With his remaining strength, he yanked the knife from its case, reached his arm back, and then, with all the strength he could muster, drove it into the man’s side.

  Weeks let out a scream and then collapsed on top of Ben.

  The next thing Ben knew, it was dark out, and so cold. No, there were lights, lots of lights. He could feel Weeks being pulled off of him and he could hear Lila's voice. He didn't know what she was saying, but he knew she was there. He heard other voices as well—Aaron's … but wasn't he sick? And then he heard nothing at all.

  *****

  It took a couple of months for Ben to heal from his wounds, the bullet wound being the least of the injuries. Weeks had done quite the job on Ben's face, to the point where the doctor was afraid Ben might suffer from brain damage. Those fears were unfounded, however, and the doctor eventually cleared him—with the remark that Ben was very, very lucky.

  Ben didn't feel lucky. He had a broken nose, three chipped teeth, bruises to the throat that made swallowing painful for many days, and permanent hearing loss in one ear.

  From Lila and Aaron, he got the full story. Moose did eventually make it home. Seeing not just the riderless horse, but Ben's weapons still on the horse, Lila knew something severe had happened to Ben. She quickly rode into town and rounded up as many people as she could, ending up with thirteen men and three women. She left Katie with Brittany and had her posse, including Sean and the doctor, ready in less than an hour. On their way they stopped at Aaron's house and pulled him out of bed, knowing he'd never forgive them if he wasn't part of the rescue party.

  The lone clue they had to his whereabouts was him having told Lila that he was going further down the trail that day, probably to the ten to twelve mile mark. They followed the well-used trail hoping he hadn't strayed too far from it. Night came, but that didn't deter them. Using hand-cranked rechargeable flashlights that Sean had discovered on one of his scavenging trips, they continued on their way. They would have missed him entirely if they hadn't run across the horses belonging to Weeks and his crew, still tied in the woods beside the trail. From there, it wasn't hard to find him, Weeks's dead body still draped over him.

  Ben's last-second desperation thrust of the knife had been a lucky hit. It passed between two ribs and caught Weeks's heart from the side. Death came within seconds. By the doctor's best guess, Ben had been lying under Weeks for at least three hours. Besides Weeks, two of the other men were also dead, one of whom, the doctor calculated, had probably taken a couple of hours to die. The two remaining men were taken to the doctor's office, where he nursed them back to health. The debate was lively as to what to do with them, but it was finally decided that they were swayed by Weeks's quest for vengeance more than anger at Ben on their own part. When they were healthy, they were let go with the threat that if either one of them was spotted anywhere near Yellowstone, he would be hunted down and killed. They both promised to go back to Paradise and never head in the direction of Yellowstone again.

  Of course, Ben's reputation—built so many years earlier with Lila after the event—which had finally begun to fade into the background, was once again revived, much to his chagrin. It was a classic story: A lone man, a bullet wound in his leg and a single pistol, trapped out in the open behind a small pile of rocks against a force of five (sometimes ten, a few times even fifteen in the retellings—although how he could kill fifteen men with ten bullets was beyond Ben's comprehension). Somehow in the story he is able to kill all five (in none of the retellings do any of the men survive), and although near death himself, he survives to fight again another day.

  All Ben could hope for was that the story would eventually die out.

  Chapter 4

  While Ben was recuperating, Lila and Katie took over most of the hunting. Katie loved animals, but understood the need for hunting from spending her life watching how the animals interacted with each other. The animals hunted only to survive, and that made sense to her. When she had to kill an animal for food, she always thanked it for giving up its life for them. Even at her young age, she had become an excellent shot with a rifle, a pistol, and her small crossbow.

  They were about three miles from the house, walking through the forest. They had left their horses at home. The horses would have only telegraphed their presence to the wildlife around them. Besides, they were only hunting birds that day—wild turkeys or quail. They weren’t going after anything heavy like a deer.

  Truth be told, if they came back empty-handed, they wouldn’t have been disappointed. They
loved the time they spent together. They talked and collected edible plants, and Lila would quiz Katie on the names of different plants and animals. Lila was always amazed at how much more life Katie had than Lila had had at the same age. Besides all of the distractions kids had when she was young, Lila had also had to deal with parents who held her back. Katie had none of that. The hills, mountains, forests, and valleys were her playground, and although she didn’t spend a lot of time with other children, she never felt deprived. In fact, she preferred it that way.

  On this day, the hunting was poor. They saw very few animals of any kind, something Lila found odd.

  “They’re scared,” said Katie, when Lila made mention of it.

  “Scared of what? Us?”

  “No. They’re not afraid of us. Something else.”

  Lila knew better than to dismiss anything Katie said when it came to animals. Immediately her senses went on high alert.

  “What do you think it is?”

  “Something big. A bear or a big cat.”

  They hadn’t yet run across a mountain lion in their time in Yellowstone, but had seen numerous bears from a distance. The black bears were large, but nothing compared to the one grizzly bear they once saw. Even from a half mile away, it looked enormous. Nick and Jason had told them that grizzlies were flourishing. The males ranged in weight from 600-900 pounds, but Nick had seen one that he said had to weigh close to 1200 pounds. Nick said the monster was standing next to a tree and was almost ten feet tall—as tall as the tree itself.

  They walked a while longer, until Katie suddenly stopped and said, “We need to go home.”

  “Why? Are you feeling okay?”

  “It’s wrong.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything. The air. It feels funny. My hair, I think it’s standing up. Mommy, we have to go, now.”

  Lila knew better than to question her daughter’s feelings.

  “Okay, let’s go home now.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “What?”

  “It’s too late. We can’t go that way.” She put her face in the air for just a moment. “This way.”

  Lila followed her daughter unquestioningly as they ventured deeper into the woods.

  “What is it?

  “Bad. Faster mommy.”

  And then Lila heard it and felt her heart almost skip a beat. It was a crashing in the brush behind them and a grunting—a horrifying grunting. Katie had sensed an animal, but Lila knew now that it wasn’t just any animal. It was a grizzly bear. Any grizzly would be a big one, but she sensed, mostly based on Katie’s feelings, that this wasn’t any ordinary grizzly. This was a true monster.

  They had almost no time. They weren’t talking minutes, but seconds. It was time for Lila to take over. To their left was a rocky hill, covered with boulders and tall trees. There had to be a hiding place. She took Katie’s hand and started to run.

  From behind them they heard the heavy pounding of the bear barreling through bushes. Lila hadn’t encountered an animal this aggressive since the early days after the event, when so many of the animals seemed to have had their brains scrambled. This was nothing more than an aggressive animal—and they were its prey. Lila knew she could stand and fight, but her gun was no match for a grizzly bear. She needed something bigger and more powerful. She might eventually kill the beast, but most likely, she would be dead before she got off even a couple of shots.

  They needed a tree. A strong, thick tree. But then, how would they climb it? Lila knew that bears climbed trees, but she was hoping that the sheer size of this one might prevent him from climbing.

  He was still behind them, crashing through the underbrush, but hadn’t yet shown himself. They couldn’t make it much farther. Katie, with her short legs, had reached her limit. And then Lila saw it. The perfect tree! It was tall and substantial. The trunk was fat and smooth. There were no handholds, but next to it was a rock. By standing on the rock and holding Katie up, her daughter could reach some of the smaller branches and pull herself up. Lila could then jump up from the rock and grab hold of the branches.

  She scooped up Katie and ran to the rock. She held her up to the tree and said, “Grab the branches and pull yourself up. Just keep going up as far as you can.”

  Lila was exhausted and Katie was dead weight, but somehow she lifted her daughter to her shoulders. Katie stood on Lila’s shoulders and reached up, snagging a branch. Lila pushed and Katie was able to get a foot secure. From there it was easy and Katie scrambled up a few feet.

  “Come on, mommy. Your turn.” She looked into the woods. “He’s coming. Hurry.”

  Too late!

  The bear emerged from the brush with a roar. Facing Lila, he stopped and raised himself on his hind legs to his full height. He had to be twelve feet tall. Lila wondered if Katie was high enough in the tree. She knew there was no way she could make it up in time before the animal attacked.

  “I’m not going to move,” she whispered up to Katie. She was pretty sure that was the thing to do when confronted by a wild animal.

  “He’s going to attack anyway,” her daughter replied. Lila wondered how she could be so calm.

  The bear roared again, and as he did, from her place on the branch, Katie raised her crossbow, pulled the trigger, and let the arrow fly. It went straight into the bear’s open mouth.

  The bear let out an otherworldly scream and pawed at the arrow.

  “Now Mommy,” yelled Katie. Lila jumped. The rifle on her back was impeding her jump, so she quickly slid the strap over her head and passed the rifle up to Katie, who had come down a couple branches to help if she could. Lila jumped again, this time barely grabbing the branch. But it was enough of a grip. She scrambled up the trunk until she was in a secure spot. But they weren't high enough.

  “Keep moving up. He can reach us here.”

  The bear, meanwhile, had grabbed hold of the arrow and managed to pull it out of his mouth. Now he leapt for the tree and swatted at Lila, who was still the closest to the ground. But Lila had made it just beyond his reach. She kept climbing. The branches were strong and the two of them climbed as high as they could, well out of the reach of the bear.

  “Hopefully he won’t climb up here,” she said.

  “He won’t,” said Katie. “He’s too big.”

  Lila understood what her daughter meant. It was a lot of weight to carry around, and climbing a tree wouldn’t be easy. Instead, the bear sat at the bottom of the tree and looked up at them. He was picking at his mouth where the arrow had gone in. It would hurt, but Lila was sure it had done him little harm.

  He gave another roar to let them know he was thinking about them, then settled down at the base of the tree. He wasn’t going anywhere. Lila retrieved her rifle from Katie.

  “It doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “I’m comfortable,” said Katie.

  And then Lila began to laugh. It was relief pouring out. She also had to laugh because Katie could sound so adult at times.

  When she was done, she looked at the rifle in her hand—the hand was shaking—and down at the bear. “I suppose I could start pumping bullets into him.” But even as she said it, she knew she could only do it as a last resort. To kill an animal so majestic—even one that wanted her for dinner—just seemed wrong. No, they were just going to have to wait.

  “You can’t kill him, Mom.” The “adult” Katie, now talking.

  “Way ahead of you.”

  But Lila was worried. They could probably wait out the bear overnight. Eventually he would leave, but when they came down from the tree, would he be lurking in the woods waiting for them?

  The bear grunted and stood up on his hind legs. He looked at Lila and Katie high up in the branches and roared. He stood up on the rock and tried to climb the tree. Lila could see blood soaking the fur around his mouth. She knew he had to be in a lot of pain. He was also pissed.

  Lila put her rifle to her shoulder. A few bullets
to the head would probably kill him. If he was a rogue bear, she would probably be doing people a favor by killing him. And yet, this was his land more than it was theirs. What right did she have to kill him? They could cut out the choice bits of meat, but they already had a good supply of meat. His fur would make a fine blanket or rug, but they had blankets and rugs, as did most of their neighbors.

  She came to her decision. She would only kill him—or more realistically, try to kill him—if he posed a further threat to them.

  “Are you okay up there?” she asked Katie, who was about ten feet higher than Lila.

  “I’m good.” Once more, Katie’s comfort in the wild amazed Lila. She tried to imagine herself at the age of eight or nine in the same situation. She would have cried her eyes out. She had a funny memory of a camping trip she once took with some relatives—oh, how long ago that seemed. Another life altogether. They were all upset because they didn’t have any Wi-Fi connections for their iPads. They spent the evening sitting around a bonfire eating Kentucky Fried Chicken and looking over the shoulder of the one person who had downloaded a movie to his iPad. Definitely another life.

  Her attention was brought back to the bear, who roared again and gave up his attempts to climb the tree. The bear and the tree just weren’t the right fit. He settled down and licked his lips. He looked up at Lila. She could have sworn he gave her a dirty look. He licked his claws—his massive claws. One swipe would take her head off. She shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to dying. Katie, who didn’t want to kill the bear, had no trouble shooting the arrow into his mouth. Again, her daughter’s practical side came out. Her love of animals mattered little in that case. A bear was attacking her mother and she had to stop him. Now that he was stopped, she wanted him to live.

 

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