I’d better go back. I have a lot to do today.
But instead of firing up and reversing the four-wheeler, she swung her leg over and slid off. She loved hiking in the woods, but with the bad weather, she hadn’t been out in days. She checked the sky. Still gray—and the forecast had predicted at least two more days and two more inches of precipitation. The light spot where the meteorite-fireball-not-UFO had broken through had filled in with dark clouds.
Better make haste before the next deluge.
She jumped over the log and hurried up the forest service road, surveying left and right for any signs that something big and fiery had hit. She’d gone maybe a quarter mile when a chuffing noise caused the hair on her nape to stand up.
She froze.
A huge bear lumbered around the bend.
Bear! Oh god! Bear! What do I do? What do I do? Play dead? Climb a tree—no, bears can climb. Walk away? Oh my god. The shovel. I left the shovel on the quad.
She recalled that you needed to behave differently if the animal was a black bear or a grizzly. While the latter were territorial, the former were predatory. This animal’s coat was light brown like a grizzly’s, but black bears could range from light to dark. Why did I have to run into a bear? Why did I leave the shovel on the quad?
Everything in her screamed to run like hell, but she knew better. She inched away, not taking her eyes off the animal. It lifted its head and stared at her. It had weirdly light, almost-silver intelligent-appearing eyes, and she’d almost swear the animal had sought her gaze.
“Stay there, Mr. Bear, stay there.” She spoke softly, partly because she’d recalled you were supposed to speak in a nonthreatening tone, but mostly because she was so freaking scared, she could hardly croak out the words. “I mean you no harm. It’s just little old me, and I’m going to leave now. You can have the woods all to yourself.”
Her heart pounded like she’d run twelve blocks.
I have to get to the quad. Have to get to the quad.
With excruciating slowness, she inched one small step at a time until she smacked into something solid. A scream bubbled up into her throat until she realized she’d gotten off the path and backed into a tree. Maybe she could duck into the woods?
She vetoed that idea—the bear could travel through overgrown brush better and faster than she could. “Go away! Please, go away.” She waved her arms, but the animal continued to stalk her. He’s not leaving. Oh god. It’s a black bear. He’s going to eat me. She tried to step back onto the road, but the belt of her yellow slicker caught on a branch. As she tore it free, she bumped a hard lump in her pocket.
She dug inside and pulled out a canister of bear spray. Hands shaking, she uncapped it, dropping the lid.
The bear stood right there. Saliva dripped from its muzzle, and its odd silver eyes gleamed. It reared up on its hinds legs and let out a menacing growl.
Kevanne shot it in the face.
The bear howled, a surprisingly man-like sound.
She screamed and ran.
She tore down the road as fast as her legs would go. She expected to hear the thundering footfalls of a bear in pursuit, expected a swipe by a massive clawed paw, but she didn’t stop. She ran and ran. She leaped over the fallen log and jumped onto the quad. Firing it up, she reversed and sped away.
* * * *
“She’s gone.” Psy emerged from the woods. “Are you all right?”
Chameleon collapsed into his natural form. “I can’t see! She shot me with something.” His eyes, nose, and mouth burned.
“Yes, you scared her, and she reacted,” Psy said calmly.
The pain was excruciating. He started to rub his streaming eyes, but Psy grabbed his hand. “Don’t do that until we figure out what she shot you with. Let’s get you back to the ship.”
Psy had to guide him. What if he’d been permanently blinded?
“Okay, the steps are right in front of you. One foot up,” Psy said. Chameleon stumbled into the spacecraft.
“The drone captured it all. We saw what happened,” Tigre’s voice boomed. “Let’s get him into a med pod.”
Psy helped him climb into the capsule. The lid closed, and the unit ticked as the analysis wave rolled over him. Moments later, a cool mist sprayed his face, providing some relief but not enough. Then a robotic arm swiveled out and pried open his left eyelid. He flinched. Liquid squirted into his eye, cooling the burn. Then the medi-bot treated the other eye.
The top rolled off the capsule, and he sat up. Besides Psy and Tigre, Wingman had joined them.
“Better?” Psy asked.
“Much. Thank you for your help.” He wouldn’t have gotten to the ship if not for the Verital’s assistance.
“What did she shoot me with?”
“According to the medi-report, it was a plant-based irritant that causes a burning sensation when it comes into contact with mucous membranes.”
“Why did she attack me? I wasn’t threatening her.”
“She felt threatened,” Psy said. “She was scared to death. She was afraid you were going to eat her.”
“Actually, you were threatening her.” Wingman smirked. “While you were gone, I uploaded the complete body of knowledge available on Earth’s Internet onto a data dot. The Earth creature you personified? It’s called a black bear. It’s an Earth predator. They’re considered very dangerous.”
Chapter Five
The bear’s paws had been blue!
Kevanne got halfway home before the realization hit her. She replayed what had happened. The animal had reared up and waved blue front paws. She hadn’t noticed the hind feet.
After she’d blasted it—its bellow had sounded like a man’s yell. While she had always believed animals were smarter than people gave them credit for, the bear’s gaze held an eerie intelligence.
Blue feet. Silvery eyes. The manly sounding yell.
What if it hadn’t been a bear, but a guy wearing a suit?
Then he deserved to be shot with bear spray for scaring her like that. Not funny. Not funny at all. And stupid.
Spring bear season had opened. Only an idiot with a death wish would prance around the woods in a bear costume. Unless the hunter pretended to be a bear to lure in other bears? There’s no lifeguard in the gene pool. He’s lucky I didn’t have a shotgun instead of pepper spray.
She didn’t own a gun of any kind. She could never shoot anything—even if her life was in danger. Fortunately, she had had her bear spray. Local news had reported the bears had come out of hibernation and were foraging for food. So she’d bought some spray and tucked it into her raincoat as an insurance policy when she hiked in the woods. The claws on the beast had been as long as her fingers, the canine teeth sharp and surprisingly white for a creature without dental care. Reconsidering all the facts, she had to conclude it had been a bear. Not a man. A bear.
Arriving home, she parked the quad in the barn. After her close encounter of the ursine kind, she needed a pick-me-up. She’d go to town, see about hiring a handyman, and then treat herself to a glad-to-be-alive lunch at the diner.
* * * *
Argent was tucked just off the main highway. To get there, you turned left at the billboard proclaiming ARGENT…A GREAT PLACE TO VISIT, headed west for a block, and tried not to blink so you wouldn’t miss the town. Sitting at the red light, Kevanne noticed the town council had replaced the old vandalized billboard. Under the words, “great place to visit,” someone—high school kids probably—had sprayed the words “but you wouldn’t want to live here” on the old one.