Free Wild by Alex Mallory Page A

flash of yellow caught Dara’s eye. She snatched a box from the ground and the last of their breakfast cereal bounced through the underbrush, fleeing like mice.
    She shot Josh a look, then crushed the box to shove in her pack. They’d done a lousy job locking the rest of the food down.
    Without a word, she trudged on, more frustrated with each bit of trash she discovered. Something had scattered a bag of rice. The red peak of their tent appeared in the distance, but not before a final insult.
    A few feet away, a jar sat on a tree stump. It wasn’t broken—the thief had unscrewed the lid and dug tiny fingers all through the peanut butter.
    â€œSeriously?” she asked the sky.
    Dara stalked toward camp. Once again, the clearing was a disaster, wrappers and bottles scattered everywhere. The cooler hung upside down—still on its rope, completely empty.
    Furious, Dara started for the sleeping tent. Just then, the smaller tent shook, something rustling behind it. The little monster was still there!
    â€œHey!” she shouted. She threw the walking stick toward the tent, expecting a furry, black-masked bandit to streak into the woods. The rustling stopped, but nothing moved. Plucking a rock off the ground, she hauled back to throw it.
    She let it slip from her hand when the bear stood up.
    Its muzzle and paws were white with biscuit mix. With dark eyes fixed on Dara, the bear flared its nostrils, huffing at the air. A low creak rolled from it. Not really a growl. Another kind of sound, almost thoughtful. It shifted, like it was trying to get a better look at her.
    Blank with shock, Dara fumbled for her camera. It was stupid; she didn’t even have it with her. Even as she reached for it, she knew it was stupid. It was like she was too afraid to think about the threat. To remember any of the things she’d read about bear encounters before they hiked into the woods. Her fingers knew the shape of her camera; her body knew how to take a picture out of reflex.
    â€œRun,” Josh said behind her. That broke the spell and brought her to her senses.
    â€œI don’t think we’re supposed to. I think we’re supposed to make noise and scare it away, or back away slowly. Oh god, I can’t remember.”
    Josh clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Dara, come on.”
    The bear popped its jaw, the sound grisly and echoing. Its fur bristled as it rose to its full height. Everything about the beast was aware, especially its eyes. Now it did growl. Its breath fogged the air, the growl turning to a roar. Yellow teeth flashed, curved like claws. And then, it charged.
    Dara screamed.
    Something struck her in the ribs. It knocked the breath out of her. Suddenly, she was flying. Everything came at the wrong angles. The top of the ridge was sideways. The trees, too.
    She looked down. An arm clutched her. It belonged to the boy from the river. Her stomach dropped, and her head swam. Then suddenly, she was on the ground. Hard roots banged into her ribs. She scrambled to sit up, leaves and dirt clinging to her.
    Slapping her hair from her face, she saw the boy soar over the clearing. His body cut between the trees gracefully. Strong hands clung to a bittersweet vine. And then, he let go. Dropping in a perfect arc, he landed on his feet. He was fearless.
    Scrambling to the edge of the ridge, Dara stared down in horror. The bear swung toward the boy. It barked; she had no idea bears could bark. Panic turned everything on edge. She searched for Josh.
    Where was he? He had been right beside her. Right before she flew. Scanning the ground, a hysterical thought occurred to her. What if the bear had already eaten him? Then she realized Josh had flattened himself on the ground. Half covered by the brush, he didn’t move at all.
    Drawing a deep breath, the boy roared. It was a human sound, but unearthly. It rippled through the woods. It seemed to vibrate on the trees. Animals everywhere went quiet. Even birds