Monsters (21 page)

James dropped his pack on the rocks, pulled out six arrows and stuck the arrowheads into the soft snow. He knelt and fired the first, aiming for the armpit of the huge animal, praying his shot would have force enough to penetrate into the lungs, or perhaps to strike an artery.

The angle was wrong. The first arrow glanced harmlessly off the side of the bear.

James cycled rapidly through the rest of the arrows.

The second flew high and to the left, but it caught the bear on the side of the head, just behind its jaw, causing it to roar with pain.

The third was on target, sinking deep under the armpit.

By the time James fired the fourth, the bear had turned to face him. Rising up on its hind legs, the monster roared at him.

James was tempted to go for a heart shot, but the ribcage and chest muscles were as thick as armor. A neck shot would cause massive bleeding, but this was a male bear, with a thick fur coat protecting its neck from fights with other, rival males.

In that split second, James settled on the groin. The arrow wouldn't kill the bear, but he was never going to be able to kill this bear and he knew it. He was buying her time. At least with a shot to the lower abdomen he was assured of a good hit. The fur was thinner there, and stomach wounds were notorious for infection. The bear might not die now, or in the next few days, but within a month it would be either sick or dead.

His fifth and six shots struck low on the bear's body and the beast roared with anger before falling back to its four paws and pounding up the snow covered hill toward him.

James stood, looking over at the woman. From where he was he could see she was a teenager, not much older than him. She was yelling something, but he couldn't make out what she was saying over the roar of the bear. Finally, her voice registered.

“RUN! RUUUUUUNNNN!”

The bear pounded up the mountain, but not directly toward him. It had to round the rocks before it could cross the top of the cliff to catch him. James dropped his bow and quiver, even though there were four more arrows he could have fired.

With its shorter front legs, the bear made easy time up the slope and had closed the gap to within fifty yards.

James ran.

His snowshoes were cumbersome uphill, demanding wide, long strides when he wanted to pound as hard and short as he could to make more ground. He darted through the trees, and up over a small rise. His heart was pounding in his chest. His lungs were burning as he sucked in the cool air around him.

Behind him, he could hear the bear tearing through the thicket, breaking branches and snapping deadwood beneath its weight.

The black bear roared and James felt as though the monster was already on top of him.

His snowshoes caught on loose rocks and branches, causing him to falter.

At the clearing, James rushed out onto the loose rocks and ice only to lose his footing and slide several feet down the side of the slope.

A deep bellow shook the woods. The bear lunged, seeing its quarry lying helpless.

James struggled with his snow shoes, pulling them from his boots. He looked up as the bear bounded through the trees, kicking up the powdered snow behind it.

James turned and scrambled on, using his hands and feet to clamber over the loose terrain as the bear came crashing through the trees and into the opening behind him. His right leg slipped, pushing a small avalanche of rocks and ice free and causing him to slide again.

James looked back over his shoulder. The bear was no more than fifteen feet away, tearing up the rocks between them. Blood ran from its torn cheek, dripping from its mouth. The monster's eyes seethed with anger, its teeth were bared, snarling. The bear lunged at him, landing on a loose patch of ice that gave way beneath the creature's weight, causing the massive beast to slide down the hill.

James slid helplessly down after the bear, falling with the wave of rocks and stone and ice knocked free by the animal.

He found himself crashing into the huge beast as it fought with its legs to steady itself during the slide.

The bear stank of piss and shit. Its breath was warm and fetid, its fur matted and coarse.

James pushed off the bear's hide, grabbing at the rocks sliding past and scrambling to free himself from the tangle of wild bear. He felt a rush of wind as the bear's paw lashed out at him, trying to grab his head, but that motion threw the bear off balance and it rolled further down the slope.

James darted to one side, scurrying upwards as the loose rocks and shale slipped beneath his feet. He made for the far tree line, hoping to find firmer footing there. For all its efforts to catch him, the bear slid further away.

James made it to the trees and paused, catching his breath. Looking back, he could see the bear had reached the base of the rock slide and gained its footing. It charged around the base of the rocks, intent on coming up the side to catch him. There was nothing James could do but to press on and hope he could out-distance the bear. He couldn't outrun a black bear. His only chance lay in the huge beast wearying itself with the chase. He hoped the monster would use up what little of its winter store of energy was left and lose interest in him.

The slope steepened. The large pines gave way to smaller trees, clinging to the side of the embankment, forcing James to climb hand over hand up the side of the mountain. The bear fought on behind him, roaring after him. With his muscles aching and his hands stinging from the cold, James pushed on, hoping the near vertical climb through a thicket of smaller trees would deter the bear, but it only seemed to enrage the animal more as it fought to stay with him.

James climbed up on the crest of the mountaintop, just below the peak, and looked out across the deceptively dwarf pines spread out before him, buried by the drifts that had fallen with the prevailing winds. Without his snowshoes, it was suicide to cross the deep snow, but the bear would not relent. The monster was barely ten feet behind him, tearing at the trees and rocks as it clambered up after him. On the flat tabletop, the bear would easily outrun him, its wide paws spreading its load, allowing it to manage the deep drifts far better than James.

James could see the trail by which he'd stalked the deer. He ran over, wanting to link up with that track, knowing it was a safe path above the treacherous drift.

The snow gave way beneath him, and he found himself sinking into the soft powder up to his thighs. Twisting sideways, James launched his legs up, fighting not to sink more than waist-deep into the soft snow with each bound. Although he was running, the snow reduced his pace to a dawdle and James found himself peg-legging, vaulting up over the surface of the snow only to sink in with each step.

The bear mounted the summit behind him and roared with delight, seeing him barely thirty feet away. It charged, sinking no more than a foot or so with each bound. Within seconds it would be on him and he knew it.

Fear pumped adrenaline through his veins.

The only chance he stood was with the trees.

James changed his tactics, breaking to the right, over toward a clump of treetops barely rising above the deep snow.

The bear pounced, kicking up the fine, white powdered snow as it lunged at him. James was moving too slowly. With each driving step he sank further into the drift. He dove forward, lying prostrate on the snow, spreading his weight so as to not sink further.

James scrambled using his arms and legs, but even this saw him swamped in fine powder. He floundered forward, toward a low treetop as the bear came crashing down just inches from his leg.

They were too close to the tree.

Instead of fifty feet of packed snow built-up solid beneath them, there lay a thin sheet of snow over the burgeoning tree canopy.

Beneath the snow, the mat and tangle of the pine tree spread out, reaching wider as the fall went deeper, leaving the snow close to the treetop as little more than a fragile shell.

The crisp upper layer of snow caved in beneath their combined weight, sending them both plunging through the branches underneath the drift.

As they fell through the snow, the cone shape of the tree opened out below them, as it was comprised mainly of flimsy twigs and leaves. Both bear and man plunged into the darkness.

James reached out, grabbing at the branches and limbs as the bear plummeted past him, falling headlong beneath the tree, roaring as it fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

Night had fallen by the time James made it back to the cliff face overlooking the girl in the snare. He was bruised, tired, torn and bloodied. His left hand had been impaled by a branch as he sought to break his fall through the snow down the inside of the pine tree. It had taken hours to work his way back to the surface of the drift. The bear had growled and groaned in the darkness beneath him as its life ebbed away.

The snow melted on his clothes, leaving him damp and cold.

Limping, James crossed the cliff. He gathered his bow and arrows, picked up his pack, and made his way down to the stream in the gully.

The girl lay still beneath the standing dead tree. He called out as he approached, but she didn't respond.

James dropped his pack on the snow and stepped over the twigs and dead branches littering the ground. The young woman stirred at the sound, rolling to one side. Her leg looked bad. It was broken. The steel jaws clamped on either side of her leg bit into the flesh below her knee, reaching the bone. James reached out and touched her hand, speaking softly.

“Hello, Sunshine.”

Her skin was cold to touch. The sun was setting, leaving them in the shadows as the temperature plummeted.

“Who?” she asked, her voice struggling, breaking up as that one word struggled past her lips. “Who are you?”

“Hey. It's OK. My name is James. I'm from a small farm to the north of Amersham. Relax, I'm going to get you out of here.”

“You,” she managed, her voice still croaky. “You're a bloody fool.”

“Hah,” James laughed. That was good. She was thinking, and, yes, she was right, he was a bloody fool taking on that bear alone.

James rummaged around in his pack, pulling out his sleeping bag and wrapping her in it, but he didn't open the sleeping bag, not until he removed the bear trap.

“You're shivering,” she managed, her teeth chattering together.

“You too,” he replied. “It's cold, and it's going to get colder. I've got to get a fire started.”

“What about my leg?” she asked, grimacing in pain as she moved slightly.

James glanced down at the bloody bear trap.

“At this point, it's better on your leg. Believe me, once I start removing it, you're going to beg me to stop anyway.”

The girl was quiet.

“As soon as I start to remove that trap your wounds are going to open up and bleed. I need to get a fire going so I can sterilize some water to clean your wound and keep you warm while I bind your leg.”

The look in her eyes was one that cried out for pity, but James had to be honest.

“I'm sorry, but with all you've been through, there's worse to come.”

James scouted around for some dry pine needles and set out his firewood in order of size, starting with the needles and slowly working up to twigs the size of his trembling fingers. He put aside two long, straight branches to act as splints for her leg, cleaning twigs from the branches with his knife.

The bear trap had been set on rough ground, protected from the wind by the lee of a large rock. A light dusting of snow sat on the twigs and sticks scattered across the frozen ground.

James used a small rock to carve out the snow and ice, making a shallow pit for the fire. After carefully stacking the pine needles so they made the shape of a tepee, he began striking his flint, sending sparks onto the dry kindling. Normally, he'd have started a fire earlier, while the setting sun was still warming the hills, but he had no choice. His fingers were feeling the cold, the slightest bump or slip sent pain shooting through them, but he persisted, bending forward and gently blowing as the sparks settled on the pine needles.

Slowly, a red glow appeared, then the faintest of flames, and he dared not breathe, willing the flame higher as he carefully added pine needles one by one.

Within minutes, James was adding twigs and then sticks to the fragile burning tepee, carefully arranging them to avoid a collapse, allowing the fire to take hold.

The flames warmed his hand. Blood began to circulate more freely and his torn palm throbbed. Blood seeped through the bandage he'd wrapped around his hand. It had taken the best part of half an hour, but the fire crackled as it threw out warmth.

Fire was important, not just for comfort but to keep wild animals at bay, and there would be visitations, he was sure of it. The wolves must have smelt the blood. They'd be merciless, sensing wounded prey.

James collected some larger sticks and branches and sat his steel cup on one side of the fire, melting some snow. Within a few minutes the water began to boil, so he used a cloth to remove it from the heat, sitting it in the snow to cool.

James ran his knife through the flames, fascinated as the metal changed color and the steel became sterile. He knew what needed to be done.

The girl had been silent, but she was sitting up, watching him.

“So what's your name?” he asked.

“Lisa,” she replied as he began looking at her leg again.

No surname? No point of origin? Common courtesy demanded that at least, but she clearly wasn't forthcoming. He started to say something but thought better of it. There would be time to learn where she was from later.

“Well, Lisa. I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt.”

He handed her a small branch saying, “Here, bite on this.”

James grabbed the bear trap with both hands and pried it apart.

“Ahhhh!” Lisa screamed, the stick clenched between her teeth, her hand squeezing his shoulder intensely. James jimmied the trap around, away from her leg and let it snap shut.

Lisa was panting, hyperventilating. She rocked back on the ground, her fingers grabbing at the branches around her, looking for anything to squeeze in response to the pain.