Chapter 38 Jess #2
And I remember what Marco said before. About teaching respect instead of fear.
Maybe I’m projecting my own terror onto her.
Maybe she’s stronger than I’m giving her credit for.
Or maybe you’re just too chickenshit to disappoint the hot billionaire you’re sleeping with.
Either way, here we are.
“No,” I hear myself say. “Let’s... let’s continue. Just a while longer.”
Marco studies my face. “You sure?”
Scared and brave can live in the same body.
“No,” I tell him. “But let’s do it anyway. Come on, before I change my mind!”
Marco guides us around the fox and we keep walking.
The sky’s getting darker. Clouds rolling in. The air feels heavier now. Charged.
“Might rain,” Marco observes. “We should head back soon.”
Thank God.
But then Ben gasps. “A deer!”
Sure enough, there’s a deer maybe thirty yards ahead. Just standing there watching us with those big dark eyes.
“Stay still,” Marco whispers. “Let me get a better look.”
He moves toward a small rise to the left. Higher ground for a better view.
I hear the soft mechanical sounds of him loading the shotgun. The slide of shells being pushed into the magazine. The distinctive click-clack of him chambering a round.
Standard hunting practice, I guess. You don’t load until you’re ready to potentially take a shot. And you definitely don’t chamber a round until you’re in position.
The safety’s still on, though. I can tell by the way he’s holding it. Finger off the trigger. Muzzle pointed safely away from us.
Everything by the book.
I keep my hand on Ben’s shoulder. We watch the deer together. It’s actually kind of beautiful. Peaceful even.
See? Nothing to be afraid of. Just Bambi doing Bambi things.
Will Marco live up to his end of the bargain? Will he check with Ben before making the kill?
And then I hear it.
A sound from the brush.
Heavy. Moving.
The deer’s head snaps up. Then it bolts.
Three sharp whistle blows pierce the air. Marco’s signal.
Freeze.
Time does that thing where it slows down and speeds up simultaneously.
I spin toward the sound, and that’s when I see it clearly.
Oh no.
Oh fuck no.
A massive shape shoulders through the undergrowth. Dark fur. Huge. Moving with terrifying purpose.
A bear.
A FUCKING GRIZZLY BEAR.
Brown fur matted with rain that’s just starting to fall. And it’s not running away.
It’s coming toward us. Me and Ben. While Marco’s still on the hill.
My brain shorts out. Every wilderness safety protocol Marco drilled into me just evaporates. All I can remember is one thing.
Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run.
“Frederick fell,” Ben says, starting to bend down.
“NO.” I clamp onto her arm. Probably too hard. “Eyes on me. Right now. Don’t move!”
Her face crumples. Confused and scared.
“Look at me,” I hiss. “Don’t look at anything else.”
I physically shield her. Press her face into my jacket. Place my body between her and the bear.
This is it.
This is how I die.
Seven-year-old me was right to be terrified.
The bear is maybe twenty feet away now. Fifteen.
“Leave us alone!” I shout. My voice cracks. “Please just leave us alone!”
The bear doesn’t even slow down.
“Go away!” I’m crying now. Full-on sobbing. “Please go away. Please.” Begging.
If a bear could smirk, this one would.
And then.
“Hey motherfucker, over here!”
Marco’s voice. Loud and commanding and coming from my left.
The bear’s massive head swings toward the sound.
I hear it. The click-snap of a safety being released.
The shotgun.
He brought the shotgun.
Marco steps into the open. The weapon raised. Aimed.
The bear charges him.
No no no no no.
Marco waits for the perfect shot. One breath. Two. Doesn’t want to miss... he has only one chance...
He fires.
The blast is deafening. Ben screams against my jacket.
The bear staggers. Blood sprays from its head.
He got it. Oh thank God he got it.
But the grizzly doesn’t fall.
It just gets angrier.
It charges faster. Closes the distance between him and Marco in seconds that feel like hours.
And then it’s on him.
The bear swings. Massive paws with claws like knives.
I see it happen. See the claws rake across Marco’s face. Cheekbone to jaw. A spray of red that looks black in the dim light.
Another swipe. His forehead. His collarbone.
Blood everywhere.
So much blood.
Marco goes down.
The bear is on top of him. Tearing. Ravaging.
I’m staring. Frozen. Watching the man I love get mauled to death.
And something inside me just... breaks.
Not breaks like shattering.
Breaks like a dam bursting.
All the fear. All the trauma. All the years of being terrified of these woods.
It just drains away.
Replaced by something cold and robotic and utterly fearless.
I lean down to Ben. My voice doesn’t shake. “No matter what you hear, keep your eyes closed.”
“Jess?” Her voice is so small.
“Close. Your. Eyes.”
I reach for the bear spray at my waist.
It’s not there.
Fuck.
The pack.
I moved it to the pack.
I drop to my knees. Grab my pack with hands that don’t shake anymore. Find the canister. Remove the safety pin exactly like Marco taught me.
The bear is still on him. Still attacking. But Marco’s doing something. Fighting back somehow. The bear’s making this horrible retching sound.
He shoved something down its throat.
I don’t think. Don’t hesitate.
I aim the canister. Press the trigger.
A long stream of orange spray hits the bear right in the face.
It screams. Actually screams. A sound I didn’t know bears could make.
It turns toward me. Eyes wild with rage and pain.
Come on then. Come kill me, too.
I dare you.
I spray again. More. Covering its face in the chemical mist.
The bear staggers. Retches again. Then wheels and crashes back into the brush.
Gone.
Silence.
Except for the sound of ragged breathing.
I glance at Ben. Her eyes are still closed. Good girl.
I move to Marco.
What’s left of him.
Oh God.
Oh God no.
His face is wrong. So wrong. I can’t recognize him anymore. The beautiful features I kissed last night are just torn flesh and blood and exposed bone.
Tears blur my vision. I have to look away.
I kneel beside him. Try to say something. Anything.
But I just sit there crying and sputtering like a useless idiot.
“The bear.” Marco’s voice is wrong, too. Wet and garbled. “Might come back. The shotgun.”
Right. The shotgun.
I grab it. Try to remember everything he taught Ben. Me.
Chamber clear. Safety on. No wait, safety off. Finger off trigger until ready to fire.
I stand. Go back to Ben. Pull her into my arms without letting her see anything.
“Turn around, sweet girl. Face the trees.”
She obeys.
I scan the woods with the shotgun. Ready. Waiting.
I don’t feel fear anymore.
Just rage.
I want that bear to come back. Want to kill it for what it did.
I don’t look at Marco. Can’t.
He’s dying. Right there behind me. Dying.
And there’s nothing I can do except protect his daughter.
Keep her from seeing. From hearing. From knowing just how bad it is.
I fumble the satphone out of my pack with one hand, and put down the shotgun long enough to text Jag.
BEAR ATTACK. MARCO DOWN. CRITICAL. GPS:
I hit the coordinates button, which autofills our location. Then add two final words:
SEND EVERYTHING.
I wait until the checkmark appears, then I drop the phone, retrieve the shotgun, and focus on the woods once more. I scan for the bear, listening helplessly to Marco’s dying moans.
I let go of the shotgun with one hand long enough to finds Ben’s. I squeeze. One, two, three.
“Breathe with me,” I whisper. “One.”
She inhales shakily.
“Two.”
Another breath.
“Three.”
We breathe together. Just like I taught her.
Just like Marco taught me.
Scared and brave can live in the same body.
I return my grip to the shotgun and continue swiveling in place, ready to kill that fucking bear if it shows it’s face again.
Time stops having meaning.
I stand there for five minutes. Or fifty.
Either way, it feels like an eternity.
Finally I hear a distant engine. Then a voice.
“Over here!” I shout. “We’re here!”
A ranger crashes through the brush. Young guy. Park service uniform.
He sees Marco and stops dead. “Holy fucking shit.”
I lower the shotgun and cover Ben’s ears. One hand pressed to her left ear. Her right ear against my stomach. My fingers have gone numb from holding the shotgun at the ready, and my arms ache.
The ranger goes to Marco immediately. Starts doing ranger things. Radio calls. Pressure on wounds.
He tries to take the lowered shotgun from me.
I don’t let go.
“Ma’am. It’s okay. The bear’s gone.”
My fingers are white on the stock. I’m staring into the woods, searching for the injured grizzly.
“Ma’am,” he presses.
Finally I release it. Let him take it.
He asks me what happened. I mutter something about Marco’s shotgun hitting the bear but not taking it down. Then using the bear spray. My voice sounds distant.
Everything after that is a blur.
More people arrive. EMTs. Equipment. A stretcher. Marco’s security team.
They load Marco up. I catch one glimpse of his face. Wrapped in bandages that are already soaking through with red.
Then they’re moving. Fast.
Someone’s asking me questions. Am I hurt? Is the child hurt?
I shake my head. Answer on autopilot.
We pile into a vehicle. Ben on my lap. Still has her eyes shut tight. Still breathing with me.
We drive. I barely notice where I am.
And then I’m walking again. With Ben.
Hospital.
The hospital is chaos. Bright lights and urgent voices and people moving fast.
Ethan’s there. Just finishing a shift. He sees us and his whole face changes.
“Jess. Oh fuck. Jess.”
I can barely hear his voice.
He takes over. Shepherds us through triage. Keeps asking if I need anything.
I shake my head. Can’t form words.
He hands stickers to Ben. “You can help, okay? You’re my helper.”
She takes them. But her hands don’t work. The stickers just fall.
She’s in shock.
We’re all in shock.
Marco’s stretcher wheels past. I turn Ben’s face into my shoulder so she can’t see.
He disappears through double doors marked EMERGENCY SURGERY.
Ethan guides us to a waiting room. Quiet. Away from the main chaos.
“Sit,” he says gently.
I sit. Pull Ben into my lap.
She’s not crying. Not making any sound at all.
That’s worse.
So much worse than crying.
Ethan crouches in front of us. “Jess. Look at me.”
I meet his eyes.
“You did good,” he says. “You saved them both. You understand? You saved them.”
Did I?
Because Ben’s father just got mauled by a bear and I moved the bear spray to my pack and fumbled the clip and froze for precious seconds while the animal tore into him.
We sit there in silence for I don’t know how long. Just sit there.
Ben. Ethan. And me.
“I should have been faster,” I finally whimper.
“You were fast enough.” His voice is firm. “That’s what matters.”
Ben shifts against me. So small. So quiet.
I count her breaths. Make sure she’s still breathing.
One, two, three.
Scared and brave can live in the same body.
But right now I’m just scared.
So fucking scared.