Page 63 of Bear In A Bookstore
“I’m getting a puppy. When this is over, I’m going to get that damn dog.”
Saying the words out loud eased some of her fear. “He’s going to be small, and white with black patches. He’ll be really smart and I’m going to, uh, I’m going to name him Oreo.”
Something rustled behind her. The ground vibrated as if something was coming. Pausing to listen, she heard a sound like . . . galloping? A growl?
She ran. The tunnel curved and twisted. Part of the tunnel ahead was blocked, but she squeezed through, jumped some rocks, and realized her light dropped off to nowhere. It shone into straight darkness, as if the tunnel simply disappeared. Sliding to a stop, her feet skirted on the unstable ground. She fell on her butt and tumbled down, down, her body skidding along pebbles and debris. Using her hands, she managed to slow the momentum and realized she was sliding down a steep incline. She managed to dig her feet in and stop. Next to her, an old rail line stuck up from compacted ground. There’d probably been a cart connected to it at one point to bring miners up and down this hill. Moving to the rail line for something to hang onto, she navigated her way down slowly on her butt.
Everything hurt by the time she reached the bottom and the tunnel leveled out.
A strange vibration disturbed the air. Spinning, she shone the light behind her, up, up as far as it would reach. A pair of glowing eyes glinted back at her.
Aching, hands bleeding, she forced herself forward, running as hard as she could. Straight into a dead end.
The crashing behind her said whatever had been up top was now down below. She spun to correct course but hadn’t noticed another tunnel and didn’t know where to go. Going back the way she’d come, she pressed against the cold, wet wall and pointed the light at her feet as she moved her thumb over the handle, trying to find the button to turn it off.
It was too late. Panting. Loud, aggressive panting filled the tunnel. Something was coming and there was nowhere to hide. The panic clinging to her shoulders moved to her ear and let out a whimper. Her throat tightened, breath, impossible.Not now, not now. If you crumble, you’re dead.
The panting came closer, closer. And then it stepped out of the shadows and into her light. Kora swallowed a scream, flattening against the wall as if she could sink into it. The bear materialized out of nowhere. Huge, round, muscular. A long snout and two glowing eyes came fully into view. Her brain tried to wrap around what she was seeing.
There was a bear in the tunnel. A grizzly with reddish fur and intelligent blue eyes. A shadow appeared behind it, and she realized there were two.
Two grizzlies in the tunnel . . . trapping her inside a dead end.
Feeling the wall behind her, she grappled for anything she could throw or use as a weapon, then remembered the light in her hand. It was metal, thick, and sort of heavy. She could hit the bear in the head and, what? Run? The other bear would take her out before she got two feet away. Fuck.
It didn’t matter. She had to try. Raising the light, she made eye contact with the bear. Her hands shook. The bear’s expression seemed to soften. It was almost human. What the . . .
Something clicked inside her brain.
The bear took slow steps toward her, bridging the space between them. Kora held her breath as the bear filled the space before her and gently nudged the side of her face with its snout.
“Desi?”
His name fell in a whispered drop from her lips. The bear nudged harder, rubbing against her like a friendly dog. With a hushed laugh, she hesitantly touched him, her fingers sliding into his thick fur. Tempted to hug him, she held back, still stunned and awed. He slowly pulled back and turned away, looking at her as if she should follow him.
She did, the second bear taking up the rear. He was bigger than Desi and so broad, she was surprised he fit inside the narrower parts of the tunnel.
“Are you Dax?”
It shook violently with an annoyed, slightly offended growl.
“I’ll take that as a no. Are you Fox?”
It snorted, blowing up a cloud of dust. Right. Fox.
She followed Desi in a series of starts and stops as he navigated the tunnel. She shone the light in her periphery, but he didn’t seem to need it. They came to another drop, less steep but still intimidating. Desi nudged her in front of him, then lowered to the ground, put his front legs out, and looked at her pointedly until she caught on.
“You want me to . . . sit on your legs?”
He snorted.
She sat, and he scooted them down the hill. Her insides squeezed. He’d come for her. Somehow, he’d known that she needed him. Even after how badly she’d spoken to him, he still came. At the bottom, he gently nudged her to get up, then shook his massive body to dislodge the detritus that clung to his fur from the slide.
They went a little further and a cool wash of breeze sweetened the air. Hope and anticipation colored her mood as they headed toward it. The tunnel bisected; they followed to the left where the wafts of air were coming from. A rickety, decaying door blocked their path. Desi pawed at it, as if testing its strength, then busted through it like it was made of cardboard. The tunnel walls rumbled from the vibrations, slips of dirt and rock rolling down the sides. She hurried inside, waving her light, and realizing they were in another tunnel. It bisected again. The bears rumbled as if talking to each other, then Desi led her to the right. Her heart flipped. She recognized the door before them.
Yanking it open, she moved slowly inside.
“What the hell?”
