TRUE NORTH
The Bears of Blackrock - Book Four
By
Alana Hart & Michaela Wright
Copyright © 2016 Alana Hart & Michaela Wright
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
Published by Hartfelt Books
Cover by ReddHott Covers
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CHAPTER ONE
Theron
Theron could smell the salt of sea water in the air, and he closed his eyes to relish it.
The town of Kilikut was so reminiscent of his corner of Maine, Theron felt a flood of relief when he climbed out of the boat onto a dock, feeling the sway of water sloshing beneath him before he made his way to shore.
The community was tiny, as all communities this far north were. He was used to it. Downeast Maine wasn’t the most populace place on earth, either. Still, in Blackrock, if he wanted to hit up a Wal-Mart, he could drive an hour down to Ellsworth.
Kilikut was easily a three hour boat ride from the nearest anything.
Theron imagined his mother growing up in such a place. Even Maine felt bustling compared to this. He thought of his mother and cringed.
His last words to her had not been kind.
Not at all.
No matter how true his words may have been, he was regretting their argument as he wandered into the quiet streets of Kilikut, Labrador.
It was her, after all, who’d called up to her family home to make sure Theron had a place to go – a place he’d be safe.
He set his backpack down on the dock, waving to the boat as his ride backed out into the Atlantic. Theron pulled his old iPhone out of his pocket and pulled up his mother’s contact. He pressed send.
“Hello?” A voice said on the other line, the word barely decipherable through the crackle of bad connection.
“Mom? Can you hear me?”
“Ther – Did you – ight?”
Theron glanced at his phone to find the weakest roaming signal he’d ever managed a connection with. “Mom! Are you there? I wanted to say I’m sorry. Mom?”
The three tell-tale beeps signaled the call had failed.
Theron sighed and put his phone away.
The main road wasn’t paved and betrayed a recent snowfall, now melted into puddles on the dirt road. The fishing village was a cluster of white houses, double wide prefab trailers, and the shore was littered with boats.
Theron caught the eye of a woman standing by her house as he sauntered through town. He gave the woman a wave. She seemed confused by his presence.
He wasn’t surprised. Kilikut wasn’t exactly the kind of place to get visitors.
Theron had stopped into the reserve where his mother grew up, several hours southwest.
“Most of the Holdens moved up to the Extension,” he’d said, just after giving him a surprisingly friendly hug. Uncle Bill was as nice a guy as his mother promised.
As far as Uncle Bill could guess, Kilikut was a half hour drive from the reserve where his family now lived. It was late-September, and though it was cold, he could manage a trek on foot if need be.
He was a shifter after all. A little cold couldn’t slow him down.
Theron marched up the hill toward the north, hoisting his backpack up high on his shoulders. He had to either find someone to take him north or at the very least offer directions. If neither of those options worked, he’d have to pray to catch the scent of shifter on the road north, otherwise he might march off into the tundra, never to be seen again.
Theron came around a corner to find a man standing by his pickup truck, packing up the bed with crates. The man looked to be in his forties, cleanshaven, even in the cold, zipped up tight in a heavy duty jacket. Theron waved the man down, smiling when he spotted the Ice Caps hockey logo on the man’s hat.
Theron liked hockey. They might get along.
The man spotted Theron and his eyebrows shot up. Clearly, new faces were uncommon in Kilikut. “Well, hello there. I’m Baird,” the man said.
Theron slowed down. The man smiled wide, coming around the corner of the truck bed to shake Theron’s hand.
Theron couldn’t help but smile. This felt like the most stereotypically Canadian exchange of his life. It could get more Canadian if Baird stopped mid-sentence to call Theron a hoser, then apologized for it.
“Nice to meet you, Baird. My name is Theron.”
“Nice to meet you. What brings you to this corner of the godforsaken north?” He said, plunging his hands into his jeans pockets.
“I’m actually up to visit family,” Theron said, glancing off toward the water.
“Oh, you Inuit, then?”
Theron nodded. Inuit, Passamaquoddy, and a whole slew of other tribes over the years. Bears had a knack for finding each other when it came to marrying off their kids.
“Where’s your family located? Do you know whereabouts, exactly? I could give you a lift if you need.”
“Oh, man. Thank you. That would be amazing. I’m actually trying to find the Holdens. Have you ever heard of them?”
“The Holdens, huh?” Baird said, turning toward the bed of his truck. He leaned over the side, flipping back the cover of a long crate.
“Yeah. A man on our home reserve said they moved up around these parts. I’m just trying to -”
Theron stopped as the sound of a bolt action rifle startled him to attention. He turned back to find Baird standing by the bed of his truck, a Lee Enfield shouldered and pointed directly at Theron’s chest.
“Whoa!”
“What exactly do you want with the Holdens?” Baird asked.
“Whoa, fella!” Theron said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Don’t shoot me. I’m just trying to find my family.”
“Your family?!” Baird said. “You want me to believe you’re some long lost lovechild of somebody up here? Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“I am a Holden. My name is Theron Sleeps On Stones Talbot. My mother is Karen Holden, married Maynard Keeps His Word Talbot from the Passamaquoddy tribe of Blackrock, Maine. My mother’s mother is a Holden. I was told she moved here.”
Baird stared down the barrel of the gun for a long moment, then softened, letting the gun hang down along the truck bed. “Karen Holden?”
Theron took a slow breath. “Yes. She used to come up here from time to time to visit.”
“Up here? Naw, couldn’t be. You’re sure you’re a Holden.”
“I’ve never been sure of anything more.”
Baird let his shoulders relax. “Alright, then. Sorry about that. Hop in. I’ll bring you up to the Extension. I’m making a delivery up that way, a
nyway.”
Theron stood frozen for a long moment, unable to move. Baird set the rifle back into the crate and climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck. Theron swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally moved up to the passenger side door.
“You’re not gonna shoot me, are you?” Theron asked.
Baird almost blushed. “I am sorry about that. It isn’t everyday someone comes looking for the Holdens. They’re a private sort if you know what I mean.”
Theron snorted. He certainly did.
Theron opened the passenger side door and climbed in, holding the backpack in his lap as Baird pulled away from the side of the road and headed north.
The dirt road winded along the coast, potholes and divots announcing every turn. Theron sat in silence, watching the coast slowly move past. He glanced at Baird’s hands a few times, as though he feared the guy was secretly packing even more heat.
“So, you like the rest of the Holdens, then?” Baird asked after a long silence.
“Not sure. I’ve never actually met them.” Theron continued to stare out the window, trying not to feel lost.
“Well, this’ll be a fun reunion then, eh?”
Theron offered a nod but didn’t speak.
“I guess that means you’re a bear then, yeah?”
Theron’s mouth fell open and he turned to stare at Baird. “I – What? I don’t know what you mean.”
“You can shapeshift, eh? Like the rest of them? No wonder they’re so secretive. Quite an unexpected family trait,” Baird said, giving Theron a nudge. Theron almost dropped his phone as a result.
“Oh, you won’t get a signal on that bad larry up here, friend.”
Theron wasn’t surprised, but he didn’t care about that. “Wait, are you a Holden?”
Baird laughed. “No, sir. I’m a Davenport, through and through. My mother was a Fraser. Ancestors came over during the Highland struggles.”
Theron couldn’t compute any of Baird’s comments about his family.
“How do – what makes you think -?”
Baird smiled. “I’m a Mounty. Or what passes for one out here in the wilderness. It’s my business to know what goes on in my territory, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re a cop?”
Baird smiled. “I certainly am. Oh, here we are.”
Baird slowed the truck as Theron turned to look at the road up ahead.
The road stopped at a high metal gate. Baird hopped out of the truck and marched over to a small panel on one end of it. A moment later, the gate rolled to life, sliding aside to let Baird drive through. Theron felt the truck lurch over the metal grating that severed the road there. He’d seen reservation gates before, but nothing as intense as this. Theron glanced back toward the gate as though drove on and saw a high wire fence stretching off from either side of the gate until it disappeared in the distance.
Theron’s stomach tightened. Something didn’t feel right, but he sat in silence, waiting for Baird to deliver him to his family – most of which he’d never so much as spoken to on the phone.
The road disintegrated into a path of potholes and rocks, but Baird trudged onward, his four wheel drive showing its mettle with every turn.
Finally, Baird pulled the truck onto the side of the road just as a few snowflakes began to flit through the air. Baird was hopping out of the driver’s side door before Theron could speak. They were in the middle of nowhere.
Baird made quick work of dropping the crates into the roadway. Theron took a moment, staring up ahead at what little could be seen – a small meeting style building, and way off in the distance, a few small, white trailers like those in Kilikut.
“Where to from -”
The passenger side door opened and Baird grabbed Theron by the shoulder of his jean jacket, yanking him out. Theron only just managed to hold onto his backpack as he lost his footing and fell to the ground. He looked up to find Baird standing over him, a wide smile on his face.
“Alright then, Mr. Talbot. I’d start running.”
Theron’s eyes went wide as Baird pulled back the bolt action of his rifle and shouldered it, again.
“What? Are you fucking crazy?”
Baird smiled. “You’re a god damn shapeshifter, but it’s me that’s crazy? That’s rich. I’ll count to twenty. See how far you can get.”
“Wait! You can’t do this!”
“One…”
Theron snatched his pack up from the ground and took off, barreling over boulders and brush to put distance between himself and this madman. He could hear Baird counting in the distance, his tone betraying a smile on the bastard’s face. Theron scanned the horizon as he ran, praying for a hill or some kind of cover, but there was nothing.
Dear god, was this man really going to shoot him?
Theron felt his ankle turn as he stepped on a loose boulder, and he tumbled down into the brush, rolling ass over tea kettle into a small ditch.
The gun shot split the world wide open for an instant, then Baird’s laughter echoed across the field, followed by the sound of him climbing back in his truck and driving away.
Theron waited a long moment, feeling a searing pain in his ankle. Finally, he lifted his head to look back at the road. There was no sign of the truck. No sign of much of anything in any direction.
Theron lay there for a long moment, staring up at the gray clouds overhead. He had no idea where he was, no idea where the rest of the Holdens might be. All he knew was that he was alone in deeper wilderness than most people could ever imagine, and he knew no one for over a thousand miles.
And his ankle was busted – or at the very least sprained.
And the temperature was dropping.
He took his phone out of the backpack and pulled up his contacts. Mom, Dad, Maggie, John Fenn, Uncle Bill – not much he could do, he was down on the main reserve. This wasn’t a normal reserve. Bill and Baird called it ‘the Extension.’
Theron had never heard of anything like it before.
When no sounds betrayed Baird’s return, Theron fought to steady himself on a boulder sticking up from beneath the grass and pushed himself upright. He heaved the backpack up onto his shoulders, flinching as he tried putting weight on his ankle.
God damn it, Ther. Nice job. You’re gonna fucking die out here, he thought.
Still, he limped out of the ditch, staring back down the road toward the gate. It was the only direction he knew for sure he’d find another living person. He took a step on the busted ankle and growled in pain.
“Don’t go that way.”
Theron startled, losing his footing as he tried to turn to meet the voice and toppled again, this time landing ass first on the very same boulder. He ignored the pain, turning toward the figure that had snuck up to just seven yards away.
The girl’s eyebrows were up as she watched him. “You don’t look so good,” she said.
Neither did she. She had long black hair braided down each side of her face, but her shoulders and collar bone were prominent. She wasn’t eating enough.
Theron swallowed. “I don’t know where else to go,” he said finally.
“I can tell. You can come with me if you want.”
Theron rolled onto his knees, his ass screaming in pain as he fought to use battered muscles. “And where are you going?”
She gave a flat lipped look that reminded him of his mother when she was about to say something sarcastic. “I’m going to school.”
Theron’s eyes went wide as he looked around him. “School? Out here?”
She furrowed her brow at him. “Not out here. In a schoolhouse. The only reason I’m out here is because Mr. Davenport just dropped the commodity boxes. I wait out here for him so I might get a bit of the good stuff before the adults all take it.”
“There are people out here?” Theron asked, shielding his eyes as he fought to see as far into the distance as he could.
“You’re not too bright, are you?”
The little girl was beg
inning to remind him of Karen Talbot more than he would like.
“I suppose not. I’m Theron, by the way.”
The girl stepped forward and offered Theron a hand. He took it, letting her help him up. She was surprisingly strong for such a frail looking thing.
“I’m Buniq. You can call me Bunny, though. Everybody else does.”
“Bunny?” Theron said, wincing as his foot hit the ground again. He settled his weight onto his left leg, fighting to decide how much weight he could support without screaming like a toddler in the candy aisle. “How far is your school?”
She shrugged and walked toward the road. “It’s right over there.”
Theron paused a moment. He thought he heard a woman’s voice calling. He clenched his teeth and followed the little girl. Bunny was already done rifling through one of the crates from Baird Davenport’s truck when he caught up to her on the road.
“They’re not even trying anymore,” she said, unwrapping a granola bar and turning up the road. She marched off before Theron could glance into the crates. He recognized some of the contents – the reservation standard known as ‘Government Cheese.’
Theron steeled himself and followed Bunny, limping heavily as he went.
“Come on, slowpoke. You’re gonna make me late.”
Buniq sauntered toward the small building up ahead. It looked similar to the meeting house on the reservation back home, but worn down and rickety. It looked as though siding had been chipped away, then collected and glued back into place in a desperate attempt to keep the building upright. Theron touched his hand to his ribs and winced. He hadn’t felt the bruise when he hit the ground, but clearly that rocky ground had its way with him. Buniq marched up the meeting house steps and opened the door wide.
“What are we doing here?”
She glared at him with exasperation. “We’re going to school. Miss Dalton might -”
They both stopped as they caught a light, female voice swearing softly nearby.
A figure appeared at the corner of the building and Theron’s mouth fell open.
True North (The Bears of Blackrock Book 4) Page 1
