Page 5 of Fated to the Grizzly

I can start over. I never have to see my crazy family again.

I can find my way out of the forest and look for the nearest small town. See if it’s a place I might want to live. I don’t have any money, of course, but I can probably barter some of the stuff in my backpack. Maybe the folding bow my dad was so proud of getting for each of us.

I keep walking, dreaming of living in a modern apartment. One with a queen bed and closet. A vanity filled with make-up and perfume. A whole collection of hairbrushes.

But as the sun drops lower in the sky, reality hits:

I’m deep in the wilderness, about to spend my first night without a roof over my head.

I’ve got a sleeping bag and a hammock, and that’s all. Nothing to ward off the beasts that prowl around in the darkness. Least of all the bears.

Oh, god. The less I think about the bears, the better.

It’s almost dark now and I should set up camp. All I need is two solid tree trunks around eight feet apart, and a little spot of bare earth beside them. I pass a few okay options, but I keep plunging on. I’m scared to stop. Scared to pick a spot that turns out to be a big mistake.

Gradually, I realize that I really can’t see anything. Trees and sky are just different grades of gray, and I keep tripping on the undergrowth.

Come on, Scout. This is dumb.

I stop, haul off my backpack and root through it until I find my wind-up torch.

Its beam is weak, but it was all dad allowed us to bring.You think there’ll be batteries in the Final Fiasco, huh?

Staring into the darkness, I crank the handle furiously.

And that’s when I see it:

A bright light in the distance.

Way brighter than a firefly, or any other natural phenomenon.

Huh, that’s weird.

Maybe I’m closer to civilization than I thought.

My heart gives a little jump, and I start walking toward it.

It’s rectangular, like the window of a home.

Itisa home.

But I’m still deep in the forest. Tall trees surround the house on all sides.

I stop dead, the hairs on my forearms prickling.

An isolated house in the middle of the forest. Not a cabin or shelter, but something large and solid-looking. Kinda like a prepper’s home.

There’s probably somebody watching me with binoculars right now.

This is the last thing I can deal with.

Shoulders slumping, I turn away and retrace my steps.

I’ll just head back a half-mile or so and find someplace to hunker down for the night. It’ll be easier now with torchlight?—

Dinner.

A small silver thing dashes across my path, and my reflexes go on high alert.Allthose hours of training that were supposed to create muscle memory have paid off. Silently, I reach into the side pocket of my backpack and draw out my folding bow. Without looking, I open it out and click the apparatus into place. My attention is completely focused on tracking the oblivious little rabbit through the trees. I slide out an arrow and fit it into the bow.

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