Free Beyond the Bear by Dan Bigley, Debra McKinney Page B

Kenai, had seen a lot of them, especially lately, like fifteen the previous week, mostly at night. Seeing a bear was always a thrill, but something felt off this time. Upriver, a large grizzly sow with two cubs was bounding through the water, swinging her head from side to side, slapping the water with a paw, clearly worked up over something. To Jaha, it seemed her cubs weren’t listening to her, and she was not taking it well. The cubs then wandered off toward shore and disappeared into the brush toward the Angler Trail paralleling the river. The mother bear veered off after them on a trajectory that gave Jaha a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
    Moments later, four guys dressed in camo and fatigue greens started down the stairs, all amped up and ready to slay themselves some reds. Each clutched a pole in one hand and a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the other.
    “Hey, guys,” Jaha called out, “just so you know, I saw a mama bear with a couple of cubs down there, and that mama looked really pissed. There’s been a lot of bear activity in the evenings lately, so you might want to be extra careful.”
    “Yeah, thanks. We’re from here. We’ve got guns. We ain’t worried about no bears.”
    “Okay,” Jaha shrugged. Jackasses , he thought. “Well, good luck with the fishing, then.”
    He watched them tromp down the stairs and disappear on a potential collision course with a stressed-out sow. He and Emily lingered at the bluff a while, then wandered back toward the car. Emily pulled out a pack of rolling papers and a pouch of American Spirit tobacco, rolled herself a smoke,and lit up. Then came the screams. Horrid, hideous screams.
    That sow got somebody; Jaha was sure of it. He shuddered, assuming it was one of the guys he’d just tried to warn. He and Emily dashed back to the bluff and leaned over the railing to see if they could see anything down below. They couldn’t.
    “Are you okay down there? HEY, you guys all right?”
    More shrieking, flailing, and thrashing. A bear roaring. Then came a second voice a ways downriver screaming for help. Emily stayed put, while Jaha started down the stairs. He didn’t get far. He whipped around with a crazed look in his eyes.
    “Emily, RUN!”
    The cubs were bounding up the stairs, and he knew that meant mama wouldn’t be far behind. She wasn’t, but she was charging straight up the bluff directly below where Emily was standing.
    Running from a bear is almost always a bad idea, say those who study bear attacks for a living. Grizzlies may seem ungainly, but they can sprint like blasts of wind, up to thirty-five miles per hour. Jaha knew that, but instinct said to run, and there was no time to argue.
    They sprinted for the restrooms. Concrete walls. Metal doors. Bear proof.
    No time.
    Emily, just a few paces ahead, altered course and made a beeline for a Chevy Blazer that had pulled into the parking lot fifteen minutes before. It was closer and the back window was missing, busted out with a baseball bat, as twisted karma would have it, by the guy’s pissed-off girlfriend just the night before. Emily, still wearing her waders, tried to climb in, but her foot slipped off the bumper. Jaha had just enough time to hoist her up, shove her inside, and dive in after her. Glancing over his shoulder on his way in, he saw the sow’s head closing in, her mouth smeared with blood.
    They scrambled over the backseat and into the front, where they ducked down, Jaha covering Emily’s body with his own. The sow, huffing and growling, circled the Blazer. Once, twice. Terrified it would climb in after them or come crashing through one of the windows, Emily reached over and laid on the horn.
    Beeeeeep! Beeeeeep! Beeeeeep!
    Jaha poked his head up in time to see the sow and cubs dash across the parking lot and disappear into the woods. With no time to think of dropping it, Emily still had a cigarette wedged between her fingers. Jaha, who didn’t smoke, reached for it and took two long,