Page 1 of Unable Omega
Chapter One
Rob
My bear never understood why I felt the need to add fire to perfectly good food, but he did tolerate my penchant for cooking as long as he got to go outside on a regular basis, run around, and eat some things that appealed to him. As in: fire-free grub. Or grubs. While much of what he chose to snack on while out on our perimeter runs was of the vegetarian variety, he was not one to lope past a rotting log filled with delightful grubs, or a yummy ant hill, or other types of insects that might present themselves. Worms were a favorite.
On this particular day, we had been out for several hours, staying reasonably close to the actual perimeter but stopping multiple times as late-summer bounty presented itself to his ursine gourmet preferences. With gratitude, I was able to also enjoy some of what he did.
In spring, there were so many new grasses and other fresh green things to feast on, not my favorite but at least not disgusting to my two-legged side. And while he did dig up the occasional mole or devour some other small creature, at least I was able to convince him not to dine on carrion. That was so much worse than earthworms.
In summer and fall, though, nuts and berries became plentiful, and on this day, the berries weighed the bushes down, and my bear was there for it. He raked his massive claws through the branches, coming away with dozens of sweet goodness. And a few twigs, but those didn’t bother him at all. I made a mental note of the exact location with the intention of coming back later to fill a few sacks to dehydrate or for fresh eating. If I waited even a day or two, the other forest creatures would strip the bushes of every last berry.
My bear was doing his best to accomplish that. Even if we didn’t hibernate, the instinct to fill up now for the leaner times of winter lay deep within him, and I could not and would not point out that my kitchen was always well stocked and that I would be nourishing us in the months where he did not do much foraging.
We had to work together to make our association work, and two grumpy-as-fuck bears like us had that work cut out for us. Once our tummy was swollen with berries and some walnuts to top them off, we returned to our perimeter run, winding up back at the kitchen door with our fur full of leaves, twigs, and dirt.
A quick shift put an end to that concern—I was never sure what happened to the debris I shed in the change, but my skin and hair in human form did not have any of it to show for my journey through the forest. The perimeter had been quiet, not a sign of trouble or any kind of disturbance, and the next shift would probably find the same.
At least I hoped so. No matter how many times we found ourselves clean, safe, we all knew there were no guarantees. Those at the labs, the white coats, could not be happy at how many of their prisoners had been escaping recently, and some of those who—for all we knew—were either passing through here or had stayed to help us with our mission.
With my outdoor duties done, I needed to get cooking, but the thought of all those berries out there had me hesitating. The other bears, both natural and shifter, as well as the birds and squirrels and just about every other animal in the forest was going to be at them, and while I might find others, these were so sweet and good. If I took off then, I could make a fast trip out to the shrubs, pick some, and be back with enough time before dinner to get it prepared without anyone having to wait.
Stepping into the shorts and running shoes I’d left on the porch, I reached inside the kitchen for a handful of canvasgrocery bags and darted off back in the direction I’d come just a few minutes before.
When I got to the berries, I made quick work of as many of them as I could reach without getting too scratched up. Wearing no shirt and not having my legs covered in the woods meant having to be careful. I knew better, but it was still worth it when I thought of all the tasty things I could make from these.
Back in the kitchen again, I considered how best to make use of my harvest for the evening meal as well as the next morning. Berry pancakes or muffins or maybe a coffee cake would be a big hit for breakfast. Choosing the coffee cake because I could make it now and let it bake while preparing dinner, I quickly mixed a simple batter, stirred in berries, and topped it with an oatmeal/flour/butter/brown sugar crumble then turned my attention to another favorite, a taco bar.
Anything they could assemble themselves made my life easier, but also, I’d learned, led to lively conversations, even among those who might still be in distress from past experiences.
Icebreakers, I called them.
Tasty, crunchy, spicy, sweet…so many ways food could be used in our work. When I found myself feeling as if I didn’t do enough to help, others were quick to remind me of how much they enjoyed what I prepared and how important food was not just for the nourishment it brought but also for the sense of community a good meal could build.
I dropped a spoon and cursed it roundly as I picked it up. Sentiment was making me sloppy.
With the ground beef and spices sizzling on the grill, I settled in to prepare all the “add-ins” or toppings for our tacos. There were, of course, the usuals like lettuce, tomato, and avocado, but I always added anything left in the fridge that tickled my grouchy fancy like chopped pickles and, tonight, anarray of cheeses and other items from the charcuterie feast over the weekend. Trying not to waste took creativity.
I was setting up the taco bar, with the help of a couple of others, and the rest were filing in to eat when the alarm went off.
We all froze, then I turned off the stove and followed everyone out to deal with the fact that someone had crossed the perimeter.
They came in right through the front gate.
The sleuth had been growing and changing, largely due to rescued shifters from the laboratories, but so far, to the best of our knowledge, our enemies did not know where to find us. But then, unguided, neither did their victims.
So, who could this be?
Only one way to find out.
Chapter Two
Sage
I don’t even know if I’m in the same country anymore.With my human half tucked into the back seat of my bear’s and my shared consciousness, he took the lead. For most of my life, I’d handed it over to him, an even exchange. But when I’d discovered an opportunity to escape the lab, he jerked the awareness away from me and hadn’t let up since.
My side tugged and pulled with every step I took, fur matted with dried blood, dirt, and debris from running through forests and down the river path.
At first, I thought my bear followed the bank of the river as a guide to get away from anyone who might follow us, but after a few days, maybe a week, it was clear he had a destination in mind.
