Bear Moon

by Hattie Hunt

  Joe shrugged. “More or less. I don’t know if I would call it a dungeon, but if that makes you feel better.”

  “I am a monster.” Brett’s voice still held on to the remnants of laughter, but his eyes darkened. And the moment was gone.

  Brett pointed at Joe’s discarded MRE. “You going to eat that?”

  Joe shook his head.

  “Good.” He swiped it up and moved into the living room. “Give me a few minutes, okay?” Settling down on the floor against the couch, he leaned his head back into Juliet’s side. “Go tell the others you didn’t have to trank me, or whatever. I just need to say goodbye.”

  * * *

  Ripley nearly jumped out of her skin as the door opened behind her, and her hand flicked to the rifle laying on the step.

  Joe walked out, hands held up in surrender, a small duffel swinging from one elbow. “Down, girl.”

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously on him, and Joe chuckled. “Okay. Not the best choice of words. But seriously. Everything is fine.” Ripley removed her hand from the rifle but kept her gaze on him.

  “Where’s everyone else?” Joe asked, settling on the step next to Ripley and looking around.

  “They went back to the bunker. Getting things ready.”

  Joe nodded. “I grabbed food. Thought about picking up a couple of books or something, but the cabin library is pretty much non-existent.”

  “How is he?” Ripley leaned her shoulder into Joe’s, hoping the closeness would comfort him.

  “A mess. But sane. For the moment. He knows we have to do this.” Joe lay a kiss into Ripley’s hair. “Thanks, Rip. For everything.”

  She shuddered. “Don’t thank me yet.”

  Quiet voices sounded from behind them. Brett and Juliet. She must have woken up. Joe frowned, playing absently with the strap on the duffel. “He wanted to say goodbye. I’m glad she woke up.”

  “Goodbye isn’t great.”

  “It’s what he needs to do. I had to let him have it.” There wasn’t much hope left. He really couldn’t blame Brett for wanting that.

  The door opened behind them, and Ripley shifted quickly away from Joe. She didn’t need Brett getting up in arms about that too. He stepped between them and off the porch. “Let’s get this over with.” Without looking back, he disappeared around the corner of the cabin. Ripley and Joe exchanged a look and followed.

  Leslie, Alma, and Snow were waiting outside the bunker. Snow appeared the most relaxed, but the three together didn’t exactly radiate confidence in the situation. Joe nodded to them. They nodded back and left. Without a glance at anyone, Brett disappeared inside the black hole in the side of the mountain.

  Ripley reached out and took Joe’s hand, pulling him back before he could follow. “I don’t think I should go in.”

  Joe shook his head. “I need you there, Rip. He’ll have to deal with it.”

  She pursed her lips in a frown and tried to drop his hand, but he held it fast. With a deep breath, they entered the darkness together.

  The bunker wasn’t much. A camping lantern had been set on a small wooden table, bathing the small room in a dim orange glow. An army cot lay against one wall. There were no chairs. Joe dropped the duffel on the floor next to the table, and Brett turned around to face them, hand shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His took in Joe and Ripley, standing together, hands joined. The flickering lantern light glistened in his eyes, specks of fire in the darkness.

  Brett stared at his brother for a long moment, the darkness of the room casting him in dark shadow. “You’ll protect her, won’t you? Juliet?”

  Joe nodded. “Of course.”

  Then, Brett’s gaze fell on Ripley. “And don’t let her go.”

  Joe flinched. “I thought you hated her.”

  Brett shook his head. “She stuck with you when she didn’t need to. She tried to help me, despite everything, even when we can all see that she should have killed me.”

  “Leslie could still pull through with a cure.” Ripley couldn’t let all hope die. Not quite yet.

  His eyes bore into hers. “If it doesn’t work, you need to kill me.”

  Ripley didn’t want to.

  “I hurt Juliet. I don’t know if she’s going to recover.”

  “They all say she will.”

  Brett shook his head. “If the cure doesn’t work, you will have to be the one that kills me because he won’t.”

  She knew it was true. Joe knew it too. “I will.”

  “Good.” Brett stepped past them to the door, his hand hovering over the spot where a handle should be. He jerked a nod at Joe and Ripley. “Go.”

  Joe just stood there, looking like he’d been run over by an ox. Ripley squeezed his hand and pulled him forward.

  They stepped outside and the door closed behind them. Ripley reached up and slid the deadbolt home. It clicked into place with a haunting finality.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When Joe and Ripley entered the cabin, Juliet was up and moving around, though slowly. Barn had returned to his journaling on the sofa, as if he had never been unceremoniously dislodged. Alma had settled into the overstuffed chair, and as soon as she confirmed the task had been done, she closed her eyes into immediate sleep, soft snores issuing from her corner. Leslie was cleaning up in the kitchen. Snow was nowhere to be seen.

  Ripley didn’t know what to do. She knew she should probably go…talk to people? But who? And…say what? She could talk to Joe, but she’d already talked to him and they had more unresolved issues than the location of Atlantis. Not to mention she had just promised his brother she would kill him if this didn’t work. No. She’d rather have a conversation with someone who might—well, where there might actually be a resolution. To something. At this point, she didn’t know what might be resolved, but she’d take anything.

  She left Joe at the door, knowing she was an asshole for doing it, but if she couldn’t help him for the moment, she wasn’t going to stick around doing nothing. She was a “do something even if it’s stupid” kind of woman. It could get her into trouble and it didn’t win her many friends, but it was how she rolled. She stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a towel off the counter, helping to dry the few dishes left wet on the counter beside the sink.

  Leslie glanced up at her with a smile that didn’t last long, and then searched in the soapy dishwater for something else to clean.

  “What did you find out? We never got the chance to ask.”

  Leslie reached inside the cabinet to her right and pulled out a stack of plates, putting them in the dish water. “Something.”

  “You realize those are clean, right?”

  Leslie didn’t answer her.

  Well, everyone had their own coping mechanism, Ripley muttered to herself. And, if she was going to wash clean dishes, Ripley could dry them. It was still better than sitting around doing nothing. “Okay. What?”

  “Well...” Leslie didn’t say anything after that. She just kept washing the first clean plate as if it had something stuck on it.

  Normally, Ripley would let that go. She understood the need for silence. There was a time and a place for that. This wasn’t either.

  “Well what?” Ripley demanded. “And just how dirty is that clean plate?”

  Leslie startled, but dunked the plate in the rinse water and handed it to Ripley. “Between all of us, we think we figured something out.”

  “You think.”

  Leslie nodded. “You think you could do better?”

  “I know I couldn’t, which is the reason I called you. I’d really take it as a boon if you shared what you discovered.”

  “We have something. We’re putting it together right now, but we need more time.”

  “We don’t have any more time.” Ripley suppressed a retort about washing clean dishes when time was so short.

  “I know.” Leslie grabbed a stack of bowls out of the cupboard.

  “What chance do we have?”

  “Without samples to test o
n? Without anything to test on except for him?” Leslie shrugged.

  Great. Well, Ripley didn’t know any research scientists or whatever they would need for that. “Okay. What makes you think it’ll work?”

  Leslie closed her eyes, her hands never stopping their work. “The All Mother told me?”

  “I’d feel a lot better if that came out as a statement.”

  “I know.” She opened her eyes. “It’s just that...I’m not the one who follows...that. Paige does.”

  “Okay. Then, we need Paige.”

  “No.” Leslie slammed her bowl into the rinse water. “No. She’s busy right now anyway, and we can’t keep going to her whenever we need something. We’re fine. We—I mean. We’re fine.”

  “Okay?” It didn’t sound like they were fine. “Can we at least send Barn home?”

  Leslie glanced over her shoulder, but released a short breath of frustration. “He wants to stay to ensure the solution is safe.”

  “And how would he know that?”

  “Because this is what he does.” Leslie stared at her still hands in the water. “Kind of.”

  “Ripley.” Joe hadn’t moved from the door.

  Shit. She set down her towel. “When you have more already clean dishes clean again, let me know.”

  “I’ll just wash them again anyway,” Leslie said with a sigh.

  Okay. So, maybe standing around was better. Ripley went to Joe, her heart hurting. She ran her fingertips down his arm. “You okay?”

  His dark gaze met hers. “Will you really kill my brother?”

  Great. Fuck. “Yes.” But it wasn’t going to be easy.

  “How?”

  “What?”

  “How will you kill him?” The daggers he shot from his eyes said this wasn’t a friendly conversation. “With a knife? With a gun?”

  “It would be easier with a bullet,” Alma said from her chair and then proceeded to softly snore again.

  Ripley glared in the old witch’s direction. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but I can’t let him free to infect others. I can’t stand by and let him destroy an entire town.”

  “So, a knife, you think?”

  He really wanted to do this here—while completely irrational and emotional. She didn’t understand why rational people said irrational things, but, how would she act if it was her brother? Well, not that way. “Okay. Let’s think it through.” She squared off with him.

  He unfurled his arms and face her.

  “A knife would get me too close to his infected teeth.”

  “You took out the wolf with no weapons.”

  “Okay. So you want me, a dog, to go up against a bear. A grizzly bear. A rabid grizzly bear. Is that it?”

  “To give him a fighting chance.”

  She snorted. “A fighting chance to kill me, escape and infect someone else.”

  “He—” He stopped himself.

  “Yeah. Okay. Well, let me break this down for you even further. He attacked Juliet, the woman he loves. What would have happened if it had been, say, your mother?”

  “She’s an alpha. She would have overpowered him.”

  “Right. Because an alpha’s call is capable of overcoming the call of the virus.”

  “Which,” Barn said on his way to the kitchen, “is a really, really small organism with a brain you can only see with a microscope. So, good luck with that. Leslie, sweetie, what the hell are you doing now?” He put his journal down and joined Leslie at the sink, their exchange muffled by the running water.

  “She’s going to have zero effect on him, Joe,” Ripley said, lowering her voice. “We could call Chuck. But you know what he did? Issued a shoot-to-kill on Brett. You know why? Because even his call would have zero effect. He knows that and isn’t willing to risk the lives of his packs for the survival of one man.”

  “So... a gun, then.” Joe’s fire went out.

  He wasn’t looking for a fight anymore. Now, he was trying to gain a little assurance that his brother wouldn’t suffer.

  “Probably. Yes.”

  “Which one?”

  The only one she had. “A .40 caliber Glock.”

  “Do you need special bullets?”

  “I don’t have any.” She did, however, have some hollow points. She even had them with her. She’d just have to load up a magazine. “I’m a pretty good aim. I’ll shoot for the head. Keep it clean.”

  Joe took in a long deep, breath, looking like a Mack truck had just plowed into him. Well, like someone who could survive a truck that big running into him and coming out as anything but roadkill. That was a terrible euphemism.

  Decima stirred.

  Ripley sniffed the air. Bears. A lot of them. She cracked the door and peered out. “We’ve got company.”

  Dishes clattered.

  A chair screeched across the floor.

  “How many?” Alma asked with a grunt.

  Fucking shit-twats. Ripley leaned her back against the door. “Ten or so, I guess? The Elliots.”

  Joe groaned, but put his hand on the knob, intent to open it.

  Ripley stayed him with her own and shook her head. “We don’t know.”

  “Momma won’t kill him.” Though, Joe wasn’t as certain as he thought he was. As he thought he should be.

  “She’s the alpha of your clan, Joe,” Ripley said as bluntly and as gently as she could. “She’s going to do what it takes to keep the entire clan safe.”

  He stumbled back like she had slapped him.

  Alma moved him out of the way, and stepped up next to Ripley. Her hands arced into claws again like she was holding some kind of energy weapon or something that Ripley just couldn’t see. “Well, are you going to open the door or are we just going to stand here all day?”

  “I could just barricade the door.”

  “And shout all damned afternoon?” Alma shook her shoulders. “Come on now, girl. You’re made of tougher shit’n that. Open the damned door.”

  “Grandma,” Leslie said with a resigned edge.

  A fist hammered against the door, making it vibrate beneath Ripley. “Last chance,” she said.

  Leslie raised her open hands. “We’ve done everything we can, but we need more time. Maybe she can talk to Chuck. Explain to him that we have the situation handled for now. That we need more time.”

  “How’d that go when you brought it up?”

  Leslie looked away, her expression dry. “He mentioned a few things that have happened in the past that… could have been handled better.”

  “You know,” Ripley chided, “you should almost bring your resume with you when you volunteer to help others.”

  Alma chuckled. “I like this one, but I ain’t gettin’ any prettier.”

  “Younger either,” Barn said from the kitchen. He locked a load into a shotgun.

  “Where the hell did you get that?” Ripley demanded.

  “From beside the refrigerator,” he said with enough snark that left Ripley wondering if he was lying or telling the truth.

  “Well, we’re not shooting anyone.”

  “You’re all acting like the enemy is walking through that door,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  And, for Ripley, he wasn’t wrong. “Cheryl is outside.”

  Leslie shrugged and shook her head.

  “As in Brett and Joe’s mother.”

  Understanding crashed onto Barn’s and Leslie’s faces.

  Leslie mouthed the word, “Fuck.”

  Barn brought the shotgun to his shoulder, a settled expression washing over his face.

  Juliet walked slowly from the dining room to the front door, her steps careful. The wounds on her arms were slowly healing. The pair of claw marks on her face were at least less swollen. It was the wound on the inside of her thigh slowing her down. She didn’t say anything, but nodded once at Ripley and stepped close. She wanted to be seen when the door opened.

  With a deep breath, Ripley opened the door and plastered on a welco
ming smile.

  Cheryl stood in the doorway, her brown grizzly fur raised on the back of her neck, her bear ears standing up on top of her head. Her shoulders were beefier, back bowed forward a little.

  Emma stood behind her, less bear and more human, but definitely worried.

  “Where are my sons, dog?” Cheryl growled.

  “Why don’t you come inside?” Ripley answered through gritted teeth. Because there was no way she was handling that situation on her own. No way in hell.

  Cheryl barreled inside, Emma hot on her heels.

  The rest of the bears moved to follow.

  Ripley stood in their way, one hand held up. “Stay outside.” She closed the door, not giving them a chance to respond.

  “Cheryl,” Juliet started.

  “Did you know?” Cheryl demanded of Ripley, ignoring Juliet completely.

  Ripley had no idea where she was even starting with this. “Know what?”

  “That he was bitten.”

  “Of course, I knew.” Anger flared in Ripley’s chest. “I’ve been trying to handle this situation since it presented itself, while having to deal with you and all the crap you can hand down.”

  “Well, you don’t have to anymore.”

  “Actually, I do.” No. She didn’t. If Cheryl was going to take Brett off of her hands, then great. She could handle that.

  Except, she really couldn’t.

  Joe came to stand on the other side of Juliet, dark thunder over his expression. “She’s here because we asked her to be here.”

  “You...” Cheryl swallowed. “Snow told me.”

  That’s where she’d disappeared to.

  “I knew right where you’d take him. We were on our way.”

  Wait. “I thought Snow told you.”

  “That you were trying to save him,” Cheryl shouted. “Chuck told me about the death warrant.”

  Emma flinched. Then her face filled with rage and she balled her hands into fists.

  “What are you thinking? Doing something so reckless.”

  “He’s my brother,” Joe roared.

  “I really want to cock my gun again,” Barn muttered loud enough for Ripley to hear.

  “Would you shut up?” Leslie muttered back.

  They were quiet enough that Ripley shouldn’t have been able to hear, but Decima must be closer to the surface than she’d realized.