If I wasn’t so spooked, I could really enjoy this beauty, Dallas thought. She looked around carefully in all directions, letting her eyes adjust. There were footprints, undoubtedly Steve’s, leading away from the porch. They led into a stand of timber, and Dallas moved in the same direction, staying to one side.
This is going to be easier than I thought, she assured herself. A cold chill rippled up her back as a dark shadow loomed ahead, but it was only a tree.
She stopped and stood still for nearly a minute, feeling the cold creep into her body as she listened in silence. She could hear water running somewhere to the west, and the call of a distant bird, but no footfalls or voices. Dallas continued to follow the footprints, wondering whether the deep cold of the mountain valley or her rising apprehension was causing the trembling in her knees.
Another dark shadow appeared to the right and seemed to move. Dallas felt adrenaline squirt into her bloodstream as she momentarily prepared to run.
Oh, Lord! Dallas tried to catch her breath, her hand on her chest. Another tree.
She looked down at the footprints once more, wondering why she was seeing double. Something wasn’t right about the marks that had been left in the snow. A second set of footprints! After Steve had walked by, someone else had emerged from the forest and followed him.
There IS someone else out here! Oh my Lord, what do I do now? Dallas stood stock-still, her heart pounding. The .30-.30 she’d shunned was back in the cabin, but what if Steve were in trouble, or fighting for his life?
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the night sounds, straining to discern anything unusual, such as a struggle in progress.
Steve could be dead. No, that isn’t right. They wouldn’t kill him. They’d drag him off and question him first. In the distance now, faintly, she begin to hear muffled thumping sounds, which grew progressively louder.
Footfalls!
Her eyes strained to see ahead. A shape materialized in the trees in front of her, a figure charging toward her, head down, legs moving like pistons.
“STEVE?” Dallas barked, and saw a head bob up as the frightened face of the fourteen-year-old became starkly visible.
“RUN!” Steve yelled, pointing to the cabin as he passed her. “RUN!”
Dallas turned instantly and broke for the cabin, feeling clumsy in the mukluks, as she turned her head to see what or who was behind them.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” Steve yelled. “BEAR BEHIND!”
“WHAT?” Dallas bellowed back. “YOU HAVE A BARE WHAT?”
“BEAR! BEHIND… US… a BEAR!”
Dallas looked toward the cabin, seeing a crack of light. Graham was holding the door slightly ajar, waiting for her. “GRAHAM! OPEN IT!” Dallas bellowed.
They were less than twenty feet away when the cabin door swung open, the pool of light from within a welcoming beacon. Dallas could hear Steve’s breath coming in ragged gasps. He took the two steps to the porch in one jump and flashed through the door, with Dallas right behind. Steve pivoted and slammed the heavy door in place, turning the dead bolt and motioning Graham and Dallas back to the center of the cabin.
“A bear…” he began, panting hard.
A loud, heavy thud reverberated through the door. There was a deep, throaty groan and snuffling outside, and the sound of a heavy body moving along the wooden porch, creaking the timbers.
“Sweet Jesus!” Dallas said, moving to the front window.
“What are you doing, Dallas?” Graham asked.
She didn’t answer, but peeked out carefully before turning to the other two. “I heard him, but I don’t…”
Through the sound of shattering glass a large black paw thrust through the breaking window, inches from Dallas’s face. The claws raked in the opposite direction as she threw herself forward and scrambled to the others in the center of the room.
Graham cocked the .30-.30 and raised the gun to his shoulder.
The bear cried out in frustration as he swung a paw at the breaking window frame, shattering the remaining glass and catching the curtains. But when he could see inside, he spotted the humans. The bear stopped, his small eyes scanning the occupants as they stood in the middle of the floor and watched him, one holding the bead of the .30-.30 squarely on his forehead. For several very long seconds the bear weighed his conflicting desires in a basic, instinctive tug-of-war with himself. At last the learned caution about humans in groups won out, and the bear shook his head and backed away, roaming the porch for a few minutes before ambling off into the night, leaving the humans behind to deal with their own pounding hearts.
“I think… he’s gone,” Steve said at last, taking a deep breath.
“For now,” Dallas replied, her whole body shaking. “Why isn’t he hibernating? Would someone please talk some sense into that dumb bear?”
“Some of them go down late,” Dan said. “How big was he?”
“Big enough. A black bear. Probably four hundred pounds,” Graham replied. “We need to figure out how to board up that window in case he decides to return.”
Dallas took Steve by the shoulders and turned him to her. “What happened, Steve? Why’d you go outside?”
“I wanted to!” he snapped, squirming out of her grip.
“Where’d you find him? And no, you can’t keep him just because he followed you home.” Dallas motioned toward the front porch.
“Down by the river. He was down there just sitting in the dark by the edge and I walked right into him and scared him. He didn’t like it at all.”
“Steve, did you see anyone else out there?” Dallas asked.
“No.” He shook his head.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Steve said, looking scared. “Why?”
Dallas looked at Graham before replying, her face grim. “Because I found a second set of fresh footprints out there that followed yours from the forest.”
She saw Steve’s eyes get big and the blood drain from his face.
“Really? Someone was following me? They were human footprints?”
She nodded.
“Where, Dallas?” Dan asked.
“Less than a hundred yards from the cabin,” she replied.
“Then,” Dan began, motioning in the general direction of the door, “someone’s already here and watching us.”
Another thud reverberated through the cabin, this time from the opposite side.
“Oh, wonderful,” Dan said. “There are two predictable behaviors for a bear. One, he sees people and he leaves. Two, the promise of food outweighs his natural fear of humans. Did you have any food with you outside, Steve?”
Steve nodded. “I took a roll with some meat in it. See? It’s still here in my pocket, wrapped in a napkin.”
Dan’s mouth tightened. “So now he knows where there’s food. Eating is a bear’s primary focus in life.”
“Which means?” Graham asked, his eyes on the back windows. The scraping and bumping continued, punctuated by the same cries of irritation.
“Which means we’ve got a bear problem,” Dan replied.
“There are shutters on that broken window,” Graham said. “I guess we’d better get them closed.” He handed the gun to Dallas and moved to the window, checking both sides before leaning through the destroyed frame and pulling the shutters.
“Without seeing them,” Dan said, “I can’t tell, but even if those shutters are well made, they’re only going to slow him down. When he tries to come through that window — and he will — we’ll have to be ready to shoot. You’ll get one chance.”