“That’s great,” Shannon says, “but he’s still bleeding. It’s hard to tell how much, but there’s more blood since I stopped applying pressure and started moving rocks again.”
Shannon kneels and then sits beside Theo’s arm and applies pressure to the wound.
I glance at the bear. Luckily, it is still busy devouring our food.
Brooke starts moving more rocks, and I do the same. We work in silence. I’m still pissed that she thinks Theo is as good as dead. She was here when he squeezed my hand. Clearly he was alive then and still is now.
We uncover his torso. He’s got a pile jacket on, and we don’t see any blood seeping through it. It appears that he’s in a sitting position with one leg scrunched up. Shannon is supporting him with her body while keeping pressure on his arm wound.
“We need to free his other leg,” Brooke says, acting like it was her idea to dig him out.
I don’t argue with her because I agree. As I move more rocks, my mind pounds away.
Maybe she’s figured out that she was wrong.
Maybe I should drop the whole thing.
But how could she even question whether we should try to dig him out?
We’re going to need to deal with that.
If there’s one thing they drilled into us at this camp, it’s that you need to deal with the big things.
But right now, the biggest, most immediate thing is getting Theo out of the rocks.
Still, at some point, we’ve got to talk about what Brooke said. Her words—we’re risking our lives for a lost cause—replay in my brain.
We keep working in silence and now have most of Theo uncovered. Just one leg from the knee down remains trapped, but one of the rocks over it is a big one—too big for just the two of us.
Brooke is already reaching under the rock, trying to get a firm hold.
“Shannon,” I say. “We’re going to need your help with this one.”
She nods and eases Theo into a lying position, and then lets go of his arm where she’s been applying pressure.
As she starts to stand up, I hear a clattering sound from the bear’s direction.
We all turn and look. I can feel the wind directly on my face, blowing up from the valley.
And below the bear, about a quarter mile down the lakeshore, we see him. “That’s got to be Derrick,” I say.
“He must not know about the bear,” Brooke says.
The bear is now standing on two legs and facing Derrick’s direction. I think about the wind hitting my face and say, “It knows about him.”
Then the bear drops back down onto four legs, turns, and starts running away from Derrick and directly toward us.
CHAPTER 7
“BROOKE, SHANNON,” I SAY. “STAND with me in front of Theo. We have to appear big.”
We’ve all been taught what to do in case we encounter a bear. It was drilled into us the first couple of days of camp, but now that it’s happening, my mind is racing and my body is shaking.
We’re bunched up shoulder to shoulder. I’m guessing Shannon and Brooke are both wishing they hadn’t left their bear spray behind just like I am. We were taught to never go anywhere without it. Got to get out of your tent to take a leak, well, don’t forget your bear spray.
The bear is already agitated. Catching Derrick’s scent obviously spooked it, but because of the direction the wind is blowing, there’s no way it’d catch ours. Will it feel trapped between the three of us and Derrick? Will it fight or flee? Luckily, the rock slide is so jagged and slanted that even a bear can’t run full speed across it—but the bear is moving in our direction.
“If it doesn’t back off,” Brooke says, “we may have to.”
We were taught to back away slowly from a bear but to stand your ground if it was pursuing you—but that didn’t take into account protecting an injured person.
“We can’t back off,” I counter. “Only three of us can walk.”
“What would Theo want you to do?” Brooke asks. “Get mauled because of him?” She shakes her head.
“I don’t care what Theo would want me to do,” I say. “I know what he would do if the situation were flipped. He wouldn’t abandon us.”
Shannon doesn’t say anything, which I take to mean that she’s not planning on leaving Theo.
The bear has halved the distance to us—it’s only one hundred yards away—but has slowed down. Still, with Derrick continuing his forward push to get here, the bear isn’t going to be turning around.
“Would Theo want you to die defending him while he has almost no chance of survival himself?” Brooke says. “He’s lost a lot of blood. He can’t talk. He’s barely breathing, and he’s still stuck in the rocks. He’s—”
“Hello. Hello.” Derrick’s voice echoes off the steep mountain walls surrounding the lake and seems to come at us from all directions. But the bear can smell where he is and keeps moving away from the smell. I still don’t know if Derrick knows there’s a bear. I don’t know if he’s even spotted us yet.
“We need to make some noise,” Shannon says. “The bear might not know we’re in its path.”
“You two can yell and shout all you want,” Brooke says. “I’m moving out of the way.”
“And what if the bear comes at you?” Shannon asks.
Brooke scowls. “Why can’t we all move out of the way?” She takes a step sideways, like she’s going to abandon us, but doesn’t go any farther.
Maybe she’s mustered up an ounce of compassion for Theo. Maybe she’s realized that his life is worth just as much as hers. Or, maybe it’s the thought of being alone and confronting the bear that is just too freaking scary for her. Maybe she realizes she has more of a chance of saving herself if she stays put.
“Hey, bear,” Shannon yells, just like we were taught. I join in and so does Brooke, and now we’re all yelling the phrase in sync.
Maybe it’s the strong headwind that keeps the bear from noticing our voices.
Maybe it’s Derrick’s scent that keeps pushing it forward.
Or maybe it’s the smell of Theo’s blood.
Whatever’s driving it, the bear just keeps on coming like it’s set on autopilot.
CHAPTER 8
THE THREE OF US KEEP yelling. I pick up the orange wand that used to hold the green flag—the pole that Theo’s hand was clutching when the landslide buried him—and start waving it in front of me. It’s flexible but it’s also strong; it will bend a lot but not break easily.
The bear pulls up about thirty feet from us and stands on its hind legs. It wags its head back and forth a couple of times, drops back down on four legs, comes forward about ten feet, and then stands up again.
We’ve all stopped yelling because the bear obviously knows we’re here. If it weren’t for Theo, right now we would all take a step or two backward, and if the bear stayed put, we would continue to slowly back away. If the bear advanced, we would stop retreating so we wouldn’t look like prey.
“Don’t look it in the eye,” I whisper. Standing our ground is definitely challenging it, but staring it down could make the situation worse. The end of the wand is bouncing gently. I’ve stopped waving it, but it’s still extended toward the grizzly.