Her Wild Bear Page 11

  “You’re a monster!” Matt spat.

  “Look who’s talking, berserker!”

  “What the hell makes you think I’d betray my clan to save her life?”

  Thomas leaned casually against a large boulder. “When her friend Kyle first came to us asking for help — ”

  “Is that the boy who shot me with a rifle?” Matt muttered. “Maybe I should’ve eaten him when I had the chance.”

  Thomas took a long, slow breath before he went on. “When he first came to us, we were baffled. We didn’t think your kind got along with people. We’d only known you to attack us before. And yet here we were listening to a story about a berserker who finds a lost girl, but doesn’t kill her. No… instead, he keeps her in his cabin. And we had to wonder why.”

  He pulled up a blade of grass and chewed on it thoughtfully for a minute. “You’re savage, passionate creatures. You wouldn’t enslave her, because that would be too civilized for your species. You wouldn’t have hired her to clean, or something mundane like that — you don’t care about those things. And, if you just wanted sex, you would have simply ravished her and then killed her when you were done.

  “Then it came to me. You were in love with her — you had to be. It was the only thing that made sense. I figured maybe you were holding her captive and maybe not, but either way you had feelings for her.” Thomas shook his head at the memory. “Imagine how surprised I was to realize that a berserker was in love with a human. I didn’t even know you beasts had those feelings.”

  “We’re as human as you are,” Matt insisted. “But we’re something a bit more, as well. We’re not mindless animals. She stayed because she had nothing to fear from me.”

  “Which is, of course, why you kept your true nature from her, right?” Tomas laughed. “Well, it doesn’t matter. This is fantastic. You can refuse as long as you like, but sooner or later it’s going to be too much for you. It’s just a question of how many pieces she’s going to be in when you finally cave.”

  Matt glared at him, then stared over into the rushing water, his jaw clenching.

  “I’ll see you here tomorrow,” Thomas said with a wave. “Is there any particular finger you’d prefer? This hostage business is ugly, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be a little accommodating.”

  “Fine,” Matt grumbled.

  “What?”

  “I said fine!” Matt snapped. “But when you find them you’re going to regret it.”

  “Let me worry about that. Where are they?”

  Matt stalled, but the sound of Tawny’s screams during the mob attack still rang in his ears.

  “They’re over on the other side of Dillon’s Bluff,” Matt said finally. “You’ll have to go around Widow’s Peak, on the east side. It’s several miles further in from there. It’s a couple of days hike from here.”

  Thomas grinned triumphantly. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

  Matt glared back, his face stone cold. “They’re going to shred you and your men.”

  “We’ll see,” Thomas chuckled, his voice confident. “But meanwhile, we can’t have you tattling, can we?”

  He reached behind his back and slipped an old Colt .44 revolver from his belt and rolled the cylinder open to check the bullets.

  “You can’t shoot me,” Matt grumbled. “What if I’m lying or not telling you everything? You might still need me.”

  “I’m sure your girl wouldn’t appreciate it if you’re not being completely upfront with me,” Thomas said flatly. “She’s the one who’ll pay the price if you’re not. If you have something more to say, now’s the time.” He lifted the gun and eyed the sights.

  Matt spun and sprinted for the river. He felt the blinding pain of hot bullets ripping through his side and leg, and one boring through his back just below the ribcage. The piercing sound of the shots echoed through his mind as he stumbled, falling headlong into the river. The icy water rushed over him, the swift current dragging him into murky, smothering depths. The water turned dark red around him and he gasped for air, but his lungs filled with river water and blood.

  Chapter 19

  Tawny lay on her side, facing away from the bars and the stairs leading to the main floor. She still kept one arm over her breasts, and waited. She could hear heavy boots on the stone as someone came down along the steps, the stride slow and deliberate. She rolled her head over to see him, his large body blocking most of the light as he walked up to her cell. As he stared in at her, Gary rushed up to join him.

  “Your bear friend caved,” Thomas gloated. “You’re a lucky young lady. You get to keep all your assorted parts.”

  “You know where the clan is?” Gary asked excitedly. “What if he warns them that we’re coming?”

  Thomas grinned, still eyeing Tawny, his gaze roaming up and down her body. “He won’t. I shot him. He’s dead.”

  A suffocating horror sank over her. Her first reaction was to believe he was lying, but she knew he wasn’t. Suddenly the room seemed muffled and distant.

  “Are you certain?” Gary prodded.

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “You didn’t check his pulse?” Gary persisted. “Why wouldn’t you check the body?”

  The harsh word “body” echoed in Tawny’s head, torturing her. Matt was just a body now.

  “He fell into the river,” Thomas explained gruffly. “He was swept down with the current. But there’s no way he can survive. I got him three times, and one was square in the back. There was blood on the riverbank. He’s dead, period.”

  “Didn’t you say that they can regenerate or something?” Gary persisted. “How can we be sure he won’t revive?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Thomas barked, losing patience. “He was beaten and exhausted when I found him today. He needs to change into a bear in order to heal that quickly, and that means he needs to eat. He’s in no condition to hunt right now, even if he is still alive. He doesn’t stand a chance. There’s no way he’s going to live.”

  Gary took a long, strangled breath. “Fine. He’s dead now. That means you don’t need these two anymore.”

  “Let’s don’t kill them just yet,” Thomas suggested.

  The words reverberated through Tawny’s dulled brain. She knew what he had said, and her heart began to long for the freedom death would offer.

  “Kill them?” Gary asked, his voice strained. “You plan to kill them?”

  “Casualties, I’m afraid. I don’t want to do it, but we have no choice. If they tell the authorities how we kept them captive here we’re going to jail, and everything we’re doing now would be pointless.”

  “You never said we would be killing people,” Gary objected. “I thought we were just going to threaten them.”

  “And now I’m telling you we’re going to kill them,” Thomas snapped. “And you’re a part of it, whether you like it or not, Gary. You’re in this as deep as I am. They may still prove useful, though, so let’s keep them here until the battle is done. Then, if we manage to capture some berserkers alive, we can use these cages for what we intended them for.”

  They stood in silence, and Tawny felt her eyes burning with tears. The image of Thomas standing by her cell door melted into a blur.

  “How?” Gary finally asked, his voice low and tense. “How are we going to do it?”

  Thomas rubbed his thick beard thoughtfully. “Quiet and clean,” he mused. “We can hang them, here in the basement. The boy first, then the girl.” He eyed her greedily. “She doesn’t need to be dressed when it happens, either.” He yanked a bowie knife from his belt and laid it on a table across from her cell. “And she won’t necessarily need all her parts, either.”

  He took a long, even breath, his eyes roaming her body. “Everyone thinks she’s still lost in the woods, and that Kyle’s out looking for her. As far as anyone knows, they’re still out there somewhere.”

  Tawny’s stomach ached. She was never leaving the basement alive, and the threatening gleam of the knife would be
there for her to stare at until they used it on her. She wondered, distantly, what parts they would slice off.

  “And the bodies?” Gary asked.

  And suddenly she was no more than a body, just as Matt was. Oddly, she felt comforted by this. It meant that, in a way, she was with him again.

  “The quarry, with the deer.”

  “Of course.”

  “Get the men together,” Thomas commanded, glancing only briefly at Gary before looking back at Tawny. “And get the ammunition, as well. We take today and tomorrow to get ready. The next morning we’re all going bear hunting.”

  “I hope they eat your liver,” Tawny spoke softly. “I hope you’re screaming when they kill you.”

  Thomas chuckled warmly. “It’s not likely, young lady. That little group of misfits you saw yesterday was just some of the stragglers. We have an army of more than fifty men, all trained and ready for combat. And, in case the rifles aren’t enough, we have a nice handful of grenades, as well. Don’t ask where we got those from — it wasn’t entirely legal.”

  “You’re more likely to get yourselves killed,” Kyle yelled.

  “Oh, I haven’t told you the best part,” Thomas laughed. “It seems that berserkers have a harder time recovering from silver wounds than lead, so I’m having some of my men melt down jewelry into bullets. My Colt will be loaded with silver bullets, ready in case things get bad for us.”

  “You’re insane,” Tawny grumbled. “How can you live with yourself?”

  “Oddly quite well,” Thomas chuckled. “And when we get back, maybe you and I can make your last night on earth memorable. Sort of victory celebration.”

  Tawny felt ill. She rolled back over and faced the dark wall. Closing her eyes she struggled to remember Matt’s face in every detail, but it wouldn’t come to her. She felt him slipping away as she tried to hold on tighter.

  Chapter 20

  Matt choked and coughed up dirty water as he crawled his way out from the river depths. His fingers were bleeding from the sharp rocks along the bank, but he managed to pull his nude body from the current.

  He lay on his stomach, panting, watching the mud turn dark with his blood. He was no longer bleeding into his lungs, but the wounds were burning in pain, and each breath felt like it could be his last. He remained motionless until the feeling returned to his limbs.

  Matt rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky. Every muscle ached and he felt his strength still draining. He looked down over his body, finding the holes in his leg and side, blood still oozing out steadily. He wasn’t able to see the wound in his back, but the warmth that surrounded it told him it was bleeding profusely. He closed his eyes, glad to at least not have drowned in the river. But in the darkness he could see her face, and he could still hear her crying out for him.

  He reached out and tore off several large leaves growing along the banks. He pressed those against his back wound, crying out in pain as he applied pressure. With his other hand he stretched far enough to pluck several handfuls of salmon berries from a bush, swallowing them without bothering to chew.

  A minute later he felt a slight strength welling up inside from the food. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and reached out for more berries. They were sweet, and the sugars rushing through him helped. But he knew he couldn’t heal without shifting, and he needed fresh meat to give him strength for it.

  He gazed across the river, the ripples concealing the fish. He lunged forward to search for a stray trout or salmon, but immediately went woozy and fell back into the rocks. He lay helpless, trying desperately to think. He was too far gone to hunt or fish, and could do nothing but bleed to death into the water. Ironically, his final act of life would probably attract the fish to his dead body.

  “Traps,” he barely managed to mutter. “Tawny would use traps.”

  Matt stared up at dark clouds drifting overhead. “Father,” he muttered. “Damn, I could sure use your help right now.”

  He was answered only with the indifferent sounds of nature as he sensed his life ebbing away. As the world fell dark, one thought ripped through his mind — he was alone, completely and utterly. The truth was he always had been. And, finally, he understood that Tawny was alone as well, and probably terrified. He would be her only hope, and that hope was fading.

  The world floated slowly back into focus.

  He heaved several long, painful breaths, feeling courage rising up weakly inside of him. He fumbled clumsily along the riverside, pulling up thick sticks and shoving them deep into the muddy river. It took several minutes before he formed a small corridor for the fish, and he foraged in the soil to find clumps of worms. He wriggled twigs through the worms, baited the trap with them, and collapsed down into the cool mud, exhausted. He lay there, staring up at the darkening sky, feeling himself fading back into the earth. He could feel his soul becoming a part of it, joining with the soil in its own quest for existence.

  And then, unexpectedly, everything was clear to him. He saw himself, neither bear nor human, but as something that existed only within himself, alone, yet connected to the earth. He closed his eyes, sensing his own painful reality, and the world fell quiet.

  Matt stirred to the sound of a splashing — a kind of brutal, panicked struggle under the water. He rose slowly, his head pounding, turning to see the source of the noise. His neck ached as it twisted, but his face brightened when he saw the trap.

  He rolled over on the bank and stared in surprise at the large golden trout flopping against the sticks. It worked desperately to save its own life; in its wide, blank eyes and relentless struggle were a strange kind of plea for mercy. For a brief moment, Matt contemplated whether it was really his own right to decide who, of the two of them, would die. But, in the end, he leaned his face into the water and sank his canines into the slippery meat.

  The tender life gave way for his own and Matt devoured the fish nearly whole. He fell back into the mud and waited, feeling the strength surge into his veins. He tried desperately to shift, but managed only a partial transition, becoming an ugly, gory in-between beast.

  He looked down to watch the wounds clot, stopping the bleeding. He sucked in hoarse breaths, and waited as the life rose within him. But the fish was not nearly enough, and there was no time to wait in hopes of catching another one.

  His sharpening gaze peered out over the water and he contemplated risking the current to hunt for fish. But the shifting breeze carried another scent, something that made his skin turn cold. It was a horse.

  Matt pulled his gruesome, half-changed form up along the hill and peeked cautiously over the crest. He could see the animal, tied to a tree a few yards out, and his eyes narrowed with renewed determination. Keeping to the brush, Matt wound his way upriver along the bank, beginning to drool. He wasn’t surprised to spot a man dressed in army fatigues carrying a large rifle and making his way quietly down river, his attention fixed keenly on the bank. Matt recognized him as one of the battalion.

  Crouching under the brush, Matt waited for him to get close enough to ambush. His every muscle tensed as the man drew closer. He tried not to breathe until he heard the man’s steps padding down the bank just a few feet away. He could hear the man’s own breaths, smell the scent of his sweaty palms on the rifle butt, hear the rustling of his fatigues. Matt pounced from the shadows, and there was the quick and distinct horrifying flutter of a life being snuffed out; the soldier fell limp with Matt’s fangs in his throat.

  The blood poured into Matt’s mouth, a sour and distasteful heat. Dropping the body to the ground, he fed, and at last managed a complete shift into a bear. He shook out his fur, relishing the rush of life that swam through him and ignoring the horrid human aftertaste.

  He loped deliberately over to where the horse was tied, but the animal reared in panic as it caught Matt’s scent, ripping the reins from the tree. Matt could only watch as the horse bolted into the woods.

  Chapter 21

  “Where’s Gary?” Rodney a
sked, sizing up the men who stood around to watch Tawny as her naked shoulders shook with grief.

  She glared out through the bars at them, covering her chest with her arms the best she could manage.

  “I have no idea,” Thomas growled. “He took a horse yesterday, but it came back alone late last night. I’m inclined to think we may not see Gary again.”

  “That doesn’t worry you?” Rodney asked.

  “Actually,” Thomas retorted, “it worries me a great deal. We need to move out, now.”

  “The horses are loaded with our provisions, and the others are gathered over at the armory,” Rodney declared. “Except Sid and Odell. We’re still waiting for them to get back from taking out the phone lines.”