After
Jamal panted. Saliva, if his body had been capable of producing it, would have painted the still lush summer forest floor as he spat dryly to the dirt. The three of them now felt safe from the previous danger. They had stumbled down the side of a sloping, heavily wooded mountain somewhere on the Pine Mountain trail, in the Cumberland Range, in Eastern Kentucky:
“Are we good?” He said desperately.
“I think so,” said Liam, “That bastard isn’t going to roll down the slope. She’s too damn lazy. Black bears are tough to piss off, anyway. I can’t believe we managed to do it.”
“That thing was stalking us!” yelled Jamal, spitting remnant mucus and sweat to the layered leaves of the forest.
“She definitely wasn’t stalking us,” said Mary, “Black bears don’t stalk people. She just became a little excited when we got too close to her home, that’s all. We don’t have to worry about the bear anymore. What we do have to think about is where in the hell we are, and how in the fuck we’re going to get back to the trail.”
“That’s a fact,” said Liam.
The three of them looked up from the bottom of the slope they had, in their frantic escape from the bear, tumbled down.
There was no way back up. Mary was an experienced hiker; she understood their situation.
“Where the hell are we going now?” said Jamal.
Liam twirled pointlessly, as if surveying the area, his oversized backpack colliding softly with the numerous trees.
“We go around the mountain,” said Mary, “The range will recede within a mile, at maximum; at that point, we hop over and get back onto the trail. Or, if we can’t find the trail, we head northeast, to the top of another mountain, any mountain. At nightfall, we may be able to see some light from Elkhorn City.”
“Good idea,” said Jamal.
Before
Liam slammed shut the door of his sandy Toyota Camry. The car was a model now ancient, manufactured in 1993. It was barely holding up. Spinning belts squealed like a drove of panicked pork running from slaughter every time he twisted the key in the ignition. He still loved that car, though; it gave him a reason to hold onto his CD collection. The whole drive from Cincinnati southward to the mountains of Eastern Kentucky they had jammed to the classics: Neutral Milk Hotel, TV on the Radio, The Smiths. Liam loved his CD collection.
The three friends stood in the black-asphalt parking lot, which was empty other than the Camry staring up to the towering mountain overhead as if the vehicle planned to go hiking itself.
“Well,” said Mary, “About time to hit the trail, isn’t it?”
“Fuck… I guess so,” responded Jamal.
They were entering a lengthy stretch of mountainous woodland called the Pine Mountain Trail, thus christened because of its location, snaking southward through the Pine Mountain ridge.
They had planned to hike the forty-mile trail in three days; a bit ambitious for a trio composed mostly of inexperienced hikers, but they were sure they could do it. Their packs were well-equipped, though not too heavy. They had plenty of food and water, good sleeping bags, and iodine tablets for when they ran out of water and needed to refill in a stream. They were ready.
Approaching the trailhead, Liam, Mary, and Jamal departed from the bright, summer sun—the heat of which emanated from the seemingly glowing road like nuclear radiation—into the shady, hanging cave of foliage created by the canopy, which cooled the soft forest floor.
“It feels fucking excellent in here,” said Jamal, “I could stroll through this place all day, every day!”
“I agree,” said Mary, “Too bad we have to spend most of our time climbing mountains. It kind of strips the whole experience of its leisure.”
The trail elevated quickly, ascending from the trailhead upward the slope of the Pine Mountain ridge. Their goal was to hike fifteen miles and make it to a campsite featuring a wooden shelter with an elevated sleeping floor.
Pine Mountain is bear country, and though attacks are rare, it’s best to be on the safe side.
It started raining around midday. They had made it to the top of the ridge, which featured an ancient, rounded stone overlook of the sprawling Appalachian wilderness.
“Yes!” said Jamal, staring over the cusp, “This is what I was looking for! This is just what I wanted on this trip. Hell yeah!” He stood near the edge of the cliff, his arms spread, and raised his chin skyward to feel the hydrating slap of the thick downpour which minutes ago had suddenly started.
“You look like a fucking idiot,” said Liam, flipping the hood of his rain jacket over his head.
Jamal turned, grinning wide: “Hey, I’m just trying to have a good time, my man! Let’s enjoy this shit!”
Liam, realizing Jamal had a point, turned smiling back to the trail, which curved downward from the stony summit back into the shadowy forest of the interior.
The rain persisted. Mary spotted scurrying across the forest floor a ruffed grouse. It trudged quickly and methodically, its sheathed wings and bobbing head wobbling side to side like a feathery pendulum. It looked as if it had somewhere to be, as if it were late. It scampered forward, kicking up wet leaves in its wake, eventually arriving within the safe confines of a bulbous bush.
The dirt of the trail changed swiftly into goopy mud. Liam, slipping backward, fell on his ass and slid for a few seconds down the mudslide that was once the trail. Using his legs as forward-facing rudders, he stopped himself from tumbling over the edge of a cliff by steering himself crashing into a tree.
“Fuck,” said Liam, his chest heaving, “That was close.”
The rain continued. They still had many miles left to hike.
After
The trio reached the summit of a nearby mountain. From the top of the ridge, they could see sprawling an endless, continuously darkening forest. Twinkling lights, as if the collection of a distant galaxy, could however be spotted at the gravitationally converging bottom of a pair of nearby mountains:
“That’s Elkhorn City,” said Mary, “It’s bright, it’s southward, it’s civilization—it’s got to be Elkhorn!”
“That may be true,” said Jamal, “But how in the hell are we supposed to get there without getting lost?”
“What do you mean?” said Mary, “We fucking walk there!”
“Easier said than done,” said Jamal, “We’ll get lost.”
“You’re helpless, man,” said Mary.
Pulling out her phone, she first took a flashing landscape photo of the view from the top of the ridge. She advised the two guys to do the same in case her phone died. After that, she opened the compass on the phone, screenshotting the exact direction from the top of the ridge to the city below.
“The photos probably won’t help us much,” she said, “It’s too damn dark. The compass most definitely will, though. That’s all you really need to find your way anywhere, anyway—a compass. We know Elkhorn City is southeast of here, so if we get lost, we just need to head southeasterly. We’ll spot signs of the city eventually. And lucky for you bastards, I’ve brought a real, old-school compass as well. If our phones die, this thing never will.”
Liam and Jamal, though aware of Mary’s knowledge of the wilderness—she was by far the most experienced of the three of them—were still unsure of her ability to guide them trailless through the darkness from the top of a ridge to a nearby town. Neither of them would be able to, that’s for sure.
They entered the further blackening wood. The noises of the night quickly swarmed to surround the entirety of the soundscape. Crickets chirped, toads croaked, and coyotes howled; invisible creatures darted through the damp leaves of the forest floor. Mary was leading the group, using her thrust-forward arms and legs as a bracer, sliding carefully down the side of the mountain:
“We’ve really got to move slowly, guys,” she said, “We don’t want to go tumbling down the ridge. We would fucking die. I’m sure you’re both aware of that.”
“Yeah, no shit,” said Jamal, “I may not be Bear fucking Grylls, but I’m aware that if I fall down the side of a mountain, I might die.”
Jamal was becoming agitated. The water and food had all been drained, and they hadn’t seen a stream in quite some time. He was quickly dehydrating.
They were hoping there would be a stream at the bottom of the ridge, but there was no stream; only a muddy, damp collection of weedy vegetation:
“Fuck!’ said Jamal, rubbing his arm, “God damn nettles!”
They continued along the slithering bottom of the ridge. Glancing forward in horror, Mary noticed large pawprints visible in the soft, damp mud—mosquitos having made a nest in the craterous puddle. There was also a slash in one of the trees. The damage to the tree was recognizable; they had seen something similar before.
“Bears do this,” said Mary, “to mark where they’ve been; they have huge ranges.”
“Well, shit,” said Jamal, “I thought we were done with that crazy bastard.”
“It’s highly unlikely it’s the same bear,” responded Mary.
They continued ahead. Visibility was at best dim.
Before
“We’re almost there,” said Liam, “The campsite is just up this last bend in the mountain.”
“Thank god,” said Jamal, “I’m sweating my nuts off. My nipples are chafing.”
“We definitely didn’t need to know that,” said Mary, pacing forward ahead of the two dragging boys. Pushing further forward, she stopped suddenly.
“What’s up?” said Liam.
“Look,” said Mary. She was pointing off the trail. There was a dark opening into a small cave.
“So, what?” said Jamal, “Do you want to sleep in there, or something? Is it better than the campsite?”
“No, dumbass,” said Mary, “It’s a cave. Animals love caves. That in itself is a bit unnerving, but look at this.” She was now pointing ahead, a bit further up the trail. Another claw mark had been dug into the side of the tree. The red blaze marking the trail had been mostly destroyed. “That’s a bear,” continued Mary, “We need to keep our eyes open.”
“A fucking bear?” said Jamal, “I didn’t sign up for bears.”
“We’ll be okay, as long as we don’t do anything stupid,” said Mary, “Black bears usually don’t want anything to do with people. As long as we hang up our food, we should be good. Still, though; keep your eyes peeled.”
The three of them continued up the side of the ridge to the nearby campsite. It was a spacious clearing, especially considering the otherwise densely forested mountainside. A circular stone firepit, likely constructed from rock dragged up from the nearby creek at the bottom of the ridge, sat idly in the middle of the clearing. A bear pole stood towering on the far side of the site. On the other side sat the shelter, which was elevated; a shaky ladder leading up to a corrugated metal-roofed, flat, plywood sleeping space.
Upon entering the campsite, Jamal, dumping his bag near the fire, sat down atop it. Liam joined him, though he instead lay in the dirt, using his pack as a pillow. Mary walked up beside them, dropped her bag, and pulled from within it a plastic fifth of Wild Turkey 101:
“Here you go, boys,” she said, taking a healthy swig and handing the bottle to Jamal.
“I’m not ready for that shit,” said Jamal, taking the bottle and passing it over to Liam, who grabbed it uncertainly, lifting it to take a pull before coughing, his eyes watering.
“You two are embarrassing,” she said. She then began collecting twigs, dried leaves, and other kindling from the surrounding area to construct a fire.
Blowing into the dry teepee compiled amidst the firepit, a flame awoke. Mary then sat back into the dirt, satisfied.
“You’re pretty good at that,” said Liam.
“Thanks,” said Mary absently.
Jamal was sleeping. He had followed Liam’s lead, using his pack as a pillow. His loud snores fused percussively with the crackle of the fire to create an abysmal music. From outside their circle of perceived safety, the noises of the night invaded, maintaining within the group an awareness of the forest’s abundance of life.
“Do you ever feel like they’re all watching us?” said Liam.
“Who?” said Mary.
“The animals. Everything is jabbering out there.”
“Well,” she responded, “Some of them are. Not the crickets, or the toads, or anything like that. But some of them are—the animals who think we might eat them, or the animals who think they might want to eat us. Food is everything, out here. Mostly everything, at least.”
Liam became uneasy. There was a noise in the woods behind him, a rustling of leaves. He turned frantically to look, shining his flashlight over there.
“It’s probably nothing,” said Mary, “Maybe an opossum, or a racoon. Maybe even a mouse. Small animals sound gigantic at night when they’re scurrying around in the leaves.”
Liam was still uncertain.
“We should be getting to bed, anyway,” said Mary, “Jamal is clearly down for the count, and we’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“Should we just leave him here?” said Liam.
“No. He would probably be okay by the fire, but a bear might come by, wanting to snoop abound in his pack. He wouldn’t appreciate that surprise.”
Mary nudged Jamal awake and gestured up to the elevated sleeping space. She and Liam followed behind him and rolled out their sleeping bags and despite the relative discomfort of the plywood fell quickly to sleep.
After
The wind whistled as they climbed from the bottom of the ridge back up the side of the mountain. It buffeted Jamal’s royal blue windbreaker, which fluttered like a giant bluebird, coloring the dark of the night impressionistically.
“We need to get back up to a summit,” said Mary, “I’m pretty sure we’re heading in the right direction—compasses don’t lie—but I’d like to get some sort of visual on Elkhorn just for peace of mind.”
“We’re climbing another fucking mountain for your peace of mind?” said Jamal.
“Yes,” said Mary, “Because I’m the only one capable of getting us out of here.”
“Fair enough,” he concluded miserably.
It started raining again. Jamal put up his hood, which combined with his wiry figure gave him an even more bird-like appearance.
From atop a nearby tree cawed a crow.
Jamal jumped, shining his light in the direction of the noise.
“It’s a fucking bird,” said Mary.
“Yeah, a crow,” said Jamal, “Those things get pretty big, and I’ve heard they’ll eat just about anything.”
“They will eat anything,” said Mary, “Anything other than your dumb ass.”
Further up the ridge, they saw yet another claw mark in the side of a tree. Mary tried to push past before the other two noticed it, but Liam pointed it out:
“Another one,” he said, “This bastard is following us!”
“It’s not following us,” said Mary, “Bears claw trees all the time, and there are a lot of bears here. Plus, it’s not necessarily a bear, anyway; it could be a raccoon, or a bobcat, or a fucking house cat who wandered off from Elkhorn.”
“That slash wasn’t created by a house cat,” said Liam, “It wasn’t created by a raccoon, either.”
He was right—Mary was well aware of that; she just didn’t want the two of them to become too crazy. They needed to get to Elkhorn City, and that might not happen if they lost their cool. As paranoid as they both were, they still trusted her guidance—she knew that, but it put even more pressure on her to make the right decisions. She took a mental note of the claw mark and forged ahead, further up the ridge. They were only about a hundred yards from the peak.
Wind kicked up the closer they drew to the opening in the wood, ahead of the summit. The rain had stopped, but the howling gusts persisted. The air was crisp for summer, but unusually dry; the windblasts were in the meteorological stage between summer and fall: cold, dry, aggressive gusts.
“Look,” said Mary, “There’s a clearing. I’ll bet we can see the city from up there.”
They could, in fact, see Elkhorn City. The rocky outcrop leaned over the side of the mountain as if into the glittering mouth of the strangely still-lit small town:
“There it is,” said Jamal, leaning uncomfortably far over the ledge, “It’s just right down the mountain. Even I could guide us there. We’ve made it!”
“I told you not to doubt me,” said Mary, strolling confidently up behind Jamal.
“Guys…” said Liam from behind. He was standing at the edge of the stone summit, near the entrance back into the forest. Jamal and Mary weren’t paying attention. They were too busy staring lustfully over the side of the cliff, toward Elkhorn City.
Liam heard further loud rustling from within the wood.
“Guys!” he screamed.
“What?” said Mary, looking back in anger.
“There’s something in the woods,” said Liam, “It’s coming toward us. It sounds really big.”
“Didn’t I talk to you about this?” said Mary, “Anything sounds huge in the woods. Even a mouse.”
“This is no mouse,” said Liam.
“Jesus,” said Mary, “Would you stop being such a little…”
Before she could finish, a bellowing roar out from within the forest shook the trees, which were already swaying violently in the stormy wind. A hulking black shadow sprung outward from within the dense invisibility of the foliage. It was black bear, so darkly colored that Liam couldn’t fully see it until the beast was upon him, gurgling angrily into his face. Musky saliva covered Liam. He looked into the bear’s eyes; it was the same one, he knew it—the bastard was following them. Before he had time to do anything, the bear unleashed another roar and dug her teeth into Liam’s neck, ripping him from the earth and slinging him across the area like an unattended garden-hose.
The bear continued tossing Liam around like a baton-twirler in a marching-band before finally slinging him into the thick, grated trunk of a nearby tree. Liam felt his spine crack against the rough surface of the wood. He fell to the ground, immobile. He tried to get up, to sprint away, but it was no use—he was paralyzed.
Though his arms and legs were now useless, his mouth still worked. He screamed out to his friends:
“Guys!” he said, “Please! Help!”
The bear leapt back atop Liam, again bellowing wildly in his face. She lifted one of her massive paws, readying herself to swipe down into Liam’s quivering, sweaty cheeks.
“Hey!” came a voice from behind. Mary was standing in the clearing, her hunting knife drawn, digging her heels into the dirt. The bear looked at her curiously. At this point, if he were able, Liam would have struggled to release himself from the bear’s grip, but his arms and legs weren’t operational.
The bear looked at Mary; Mary looked back to her. They maintained eye contact for a moment before the bear turned, making to move toward Mary, who readied her thick knife, which was on its backside serrated. She twirled it around in her palm, gritting her teeth, twisting her foot into the dirt like a matador. She was ready.
At the last moment—just before the bear was making a barrel toward Mary—Jamal emerged from the woods, spreading his arms wide and screaming as primally as he knew how. The bear flinched, shrinking her weight into Liam’s bruised chest. She then, deciding against attacking Mary, returned to Liam.
The bear raised her paw and struck the side of Liam’s face, knocking him unconscious. She then dug her teeth back into his neck, wriggling him around, throwing bone and meat skyward before dragging him lifeless back into the dark of the forest.
Jamal stood stone-frozen at the foot of the summit. Mary glared at him; he hadn’t yet in his life experienced the hatred apparent in her eyes. She then darted into the woods, after the bear. Jamal, like a flustered child, followed after her.
Before
The day was bright when Mary awoke. It wasn’t late—not even seven in the morning—but the sun was already shining blindingly through the forest canopy. She descended the ladder and walked over to the previous night’s campfire. It was still smoking even though they had doused it before going to bed.
That’s the last time I let Liam piss on the fire to put it out, thought Mary to herself, and then grabbed her dirty clothes. She smelled like smoke and body-odor. Digging in her bag, she pulled out her deodorant and a package of baby wipes and began cleaning herself. She hoped the boys would do the same; she could smell them the whole night up there in the cramped sleeping-space.
Liam awoke a while later. He scratched at his ruffled, curly hair and stretched his gangly arms, rubbing his itchy eyes before looking outside the wooden shelter—his eyes squinting from the rising sun—down to the campfire. He saw Mary standing there, scrubbing her face. He had always felt something for her; he wasn’t sure what it was, but it was strong. But she felt something for Jamal—he was sure of that. Jamal was his best friend; he didn’t want to intrude on whatever they might have going on.
Liam descended the ladder and stepped hesitantly over to where Mary stood by the fire, which had by now been reignited.
“Hey,” he said. She was still washing her face, bent to the ground, scrubbing vigorously.
“Oh, hey,” she responded, standing up.
Liam didn’t know what to say. Being in one-on-one conversations with people he didn’t know well made him uneasy. He should know Mary well—he and Jamal had been friends with her for most of the last year—but it took him some real time to truly feel comfortable around people. He was a tough nut to crack. He kicked at the dirt absently as anxiety flooded his bloodstream.
“What’s for breakfast?” he said finally.
“What you’ve got in your bag, I guess. We’ve got some more of those military freeze-dried meals if you want that.”
“I guess that’s our only real option, huh?”
“Yep. Unless you want to go catch us a squirrel!”
Liam peeled open the ziplocked encasement of his last freeze-dried meal—some ridiculous beef stroganoff concoction—and began heating water in the fire.
“Fuuuucccck!” came a voice from up in the shelter. Jamal, now awake, flailed around in his sleeping bag as if his mother had just shaken him to get up for school. He stayed there for the next fifteen minutes until he smelled the smoke bubbling up from Liam’s boiling bag of freeze-dried stew. He then scrambled down the stairs:
“Shit,” he said, “What’s that? You better give my hungry ass a bite!”
Liam shared his meal with his companions. It wasn’t much, between the three of them, but they used some mixed nuts, beef jerky, and instant coffee as side dishes. It was a hell of a meal, for being in the woods.
“Well, we had better get going,” said Mary, sniffing and spitting out stagnant mucus after swallowing the last of her stroganoff, “We’ll never make it off the mountain, at this rate. You need to learn to wake up earlier, Jamal.”
“Fuck,” said Jamal, “I thought this was a vacation! Aren’t I supposed to enjoy the woods and take it the hell easy?”
Mary, snickering, packed up her bag. Liam did the same. Jamal darted back up into the shelter to roll up his sleeping bag and collect the rest of his scattered belongings.
They ventured out of the clearing and back into the thick of the forest not long after that, remnant smoke—the aroma containing notes of onion, garlic, carrot, and beef—wafted up from the dying, crackling embers of the fire.
After
Liam’s blood trail continued into the depths of the woods. Its thick tint painted morbid colors across the green foliage and brown tree bark. The blood, so dark in color, was visible even in the darkness; it stood out darker than the black of dense nighttime forest.
“Liam!” shrieked Mary again and again. Jamal followed behind her silently in a state of shock. He was becoming incredibly hungry, but he didn’t notice it, at least not consciously. His body registered it, however—he felt weak. He attributed the weakness to the shock and horror preventing him from thinking clearly about anything at all, though. Adrenaline kept him moving. Mary pushed through the brush, following the trail of blood. It led back down the side of the ridge to a small, cavernous shelter which sat near the foot of the mountain.
The two of them scrambled down the side of the slope. Jamal, in his stumbling incoherence, once fell, briefly rolling down the mountain before crashing into a thick, pillowy bush and re-collecting himself. He looked, foggy and detached, upward at Mary.
“Pull yourself together!” she yelled ferally, “We might still have a shot at saving Liam, but we’ll never be able to do it if you’re stumbling all over the place like the town drunk!”
Wiping snot from his haggard nose and face, Jamal stood up.
“You’re right,” he said vacantly, “We need to move.”
“God damn right we do!” said Mary, walking briskly over to Jamal. She unscrewed her canteen and tossed water all over his face. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes and then looked at her, now a little more animated:
“Let’s fucking go,” he said.
Before
The sun continued its Sisyphean, daily ascent skyward and by mid-morning pulsing bright, blazing sunlight split out from within the clouds earthward onto the three friends. They were back on the trail; it was a nice day; they had full bellies; life was good.
“Shit,” said Jamal, “We’re really making some progress, huh? We’ll be off this son-of-a-bitchin’ mountain in no time.”
“Don’t get too excited,” said Mary, “We’ve still got quite a long way to go.”
Approaching another summit, which though beautiful, at this point looked identical to the others they had previously crested, Liam shielded his eyes and stared out over the wilderness:
“This really is a beautiful place,” he said, “It’s difficult, walking all day, carrying this big bag and shit. Being hungry and thirsty all the time. But I think it’s worth it, you know? We don’t get to see anything this beautiful, not very often. Think about it. People used to live this every day! That’s an adventurous life; that’s the kind of life I want. I could stay out here forever.”
“Don’t get all sappy on us,” said Jamal, “The woods aren’t going anywhere, you can come back and visit another time. Myself… I don’t think I’m quite the woodsman you are, Liam. Don’t get me wrong, I’m having a good time out here with you two, but I will be happy as hell to get off this mountain; go get a bacon cheeseburger and a cold brew and sit my lazy ass on a couch.”
Abruptly they heard from behind them a rustling in the woods.
“The fuck is that?” said Jamal.
The rustling furthered, becoming louder and quickening its invisible pace toward them.
“I don’t think that’s a squirrel,” said Jamal.
Out from within the dense foliage sprung a hulking black bear. It leapt in terrifying silence toward them.
“Fuck! run!” yelled Mary, turning to sprint through the trail.
The bear continued its pursuit, drawing ever closer to the three of them. Mary, as light-footed as she was, had created some temporary distance between herself and the bear. Liam and Jamal, however, were not so fleet-footed.
“Down!” shrieked Liam, “Down the side of the mountain!”
Liam turned back to Jamal, gesturing with his neck to communicate his wish to dive down the side of the rolling mountainside. Jamal didn’t notice him. Liam stopped, gesturing more widely. Jamal still didn’t notice. Spreading his arms, Liam took Jamal’s frantic, sprinting hit like an offensive lineman, then twisting and hurling them both down the side of the mountain. The bear swiped, missing, and then continued toward Mary, but she was already down the mountain as well. The three of them rolled down the mountainside, falling over an eight-foot cliff before continuing their chaotic tumble and finally stopping painfully at the foot of an elderly tree.
They were lost.
After
The cave was dark. The bear was nowhere in sight, but Mary and Jamal heard a reverberating cough from the back of the small cavern.
“Liam!” Mary whispered loudly, in more of a raspy yell, as she scrambled to the back of the cavern to find him.
Liam was still alive, but he wouldn’t be for much longer.
“We’ve got to get you out of here,” said Mary, feeling frantically at the goop of blood covering the entirety of his body.
“No…” said Liam, “There’s no… you have to…”
“Where’s the bear?” said Jamal, “Where’s the fucking bear?”
“No bear,” said Liam.
“Well then let’s go!” said Jamal.
Liam again passed out.
“We have to get him out of here,” said Mary.
The two of them did their best to lift Liam’s lifeless body, but it was no use. There was no way they were going to be able to transport him anywhere and keep him alive. They weren’t medics, but even they were aware of that.
“You go find help,” said Jamal.
“What?” said Mary.
“One of us is going to have to go get help; that’s the only way Liam is going to make it. You’re the only one that can get out of here, get to town, and then find your way back. I can’t do that; I’m too goddamn stupid. One of us has to stay here with him, anyway—try and keep him awake, give him some water. I can do that.”
“But if that bear comes back…,” said Mary.
“It’s our only chance,” said Jamal.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Mary looked at Jamal. Without thinking, she grabbed him by both cheeks and brought him in for a long, sloppy kiss.
Jamal cracked a sheepish involuntary grin and swept his hair over to the side and then scratched the back of his neck.
“Okay, I’m going,” she said, “Keep this kid alive.”
Mary turned and made for the exit.
At the foot of the cavern, however, blacker than the darkness of night—somehow deeper than the silence of the cave—she saw a familiar hulking figure.
She gaped, petrified.
The rabid bear unleashed an abysmal roar and charged.
Bio:
Robert Pettus is an English as a Second Language teacher at the University of Cincinnati. Previously, he taught for four years teaching in a combination of rural Thailand and Moscow, Russia. He is originally from Springfield, in rural central Kentucky. His short stories have been accepted for publication in numerous magazines, webzines, and journals, including in speculative fiction magazines such as Mystery Tribune, Allegory, Savage Planets, Lovecraftiana, Schlock!, The Horror Zine, Black Petals, Yellow Mama, The Horror Tree, and Aphelion, and also several times previously by Short-Story.me. He has published three books, and is planning to release his fourth this year.