A Morrigan

At this point in the season, the trees were green but in no way beautiful. From the timber line up to the recent snowfall midway down the mountain, a summer green was still coarse and rich, but prophetically haunted, almost infected throughout with highlights of red. If you were to look closer, in between the pines were orange aspens, and clusters of budding white bear grass, even the yellow of Oregon berries. They all swayed slightly to a northern wind, and when it settled, were still again, as if they wanted to be beautiful. If one couldn't see deep enough, then, maybe they would think so. In time though, it was the red that remained deeply prominent, and from what, there was no discernible rhyme or reason.

It had been a year since the last hunt. All the scents and signs of a previous time had either become something new or disappeared altogether. The elk did not remember, or if they did remember, chose to forget. They were two days late this year, but sometimes were, and it made no difference. A harem of about three females were the first to offer themselves into the clearing, unaware that thirty yards away they were being sighted from a pair of men crouching behind a blind, and a good thirty yards more, by a pair of a man and a woman. From the blind came a bellow, correctly labeled as a bugle, organic enough that it didn't even caution the females. It's purpose was to encourage the bull into a rage, and it did so very well. The females had more sense, and lingered closer to the tree line, but when the bull came, it had no fear or sense. Evolutionarily speaking, it was bred not too. Instead, he came headstrong, shoulders high and bulked in beauty. If there had a been a challenger, then he was built to oppose it, with his rack about three feet on each end and drawing muscles broad like boulders. There was no better bull to kill. This year, Nate had first shot, because last year it had gone to Wes, and the year before to Jacob, so he took his time in examining the animal, and the best possible way to kill it.

Nate waited for the animal to turn and open a shot path into the shoulder. The females were not as brave as the males, and they grew cautious, ears up and alert; if one were to reason why, it would have to be that they remembered. Or, it could be, that the females were not as inclined to forget.

Nate had picked the further blind by mistake, so he needed to be perfect from that range if he were take the bull down without a chase. He knelt on a fallen ponderosa for leverage and sighted a direct path into the heart. It was right before he could squeeze the trigger that he felt a cold pressure on the back of his neck. And he turned to see the barrel of Adrian's rifle primed and ready to fire.

Adrian had never shot a rifle, this was clear by the way she held it awkwardly near her face. If she had fired, the recoil would kick back into her eye and possibly kill her. But too, if she fired, Nate's head would be torn to pieces, so there was a clear incentive to turn around and to take the situation serious.

The day was cold, enough to keep snow on the mountains and to remind Nate of the anger Adrian had clearly not forgotten. Her cheeks were bright red and there was steam rising in a diagonal aura from all around her. It was clear that she wanted to kill him. Her intention was to shoot him dead, but also to speak, so this gave Nate hope. He set his own rifle aside and gave his attention. She used the rifle point to pin him against the ponderosa, like a cat to a rabbit.

"Did you fuck her?" she asked. She spoke low enough not to raise caution below, but it gave a rare and unconditional sentiment of restraint and ferocity to her tone, as if unwound from a depth greater than rage. "Did you fuck her? I wont ask again."

Nate had no intention to get up, but still she pressed the rifle hard enough to cut into the skin. The question was always this sharp, no matter the situation, and whether she held a rifle or not, it was a question that could not be answered so simply. One answer led to another in a vicious cycle that had many beginnings, but only one end.

So Nate stayed quiet, barely breathing, listening to the elks bugle below, and the persistence of anticipation in a quiet, quiet day. It was very possible that Wes and Jacob were wondering why there was no shot. By now, Nate should have picked a spot and fired. A hunter needed patience but also the awareness of understanding when opportunities could be missed.

A woman makes an exceptional hunter because they rarely skew opportunities when presented. Adrian, in her wrath and constrained fury, was the gamut of womanhood before him. A celestial figure that bore more gravity than the earth itself. Her eyes were magma red, and her cheeks had burned through the feminine hues of roses and flushed with a flurry of a million hearts beating through the damper of a small pin hole.

If she shot him, Nate would not be surprised. If she shot him a million times, it would mean no difference. At that moment, as they compared each other to the obscenities of life, they hated each other as much as respected each other, and their heads spun and whirled into a hormonal spit fire ball often times labeled love, and other times indifference.

Adrian was absolutely beautiful, and Nate wouldn't have minded to die at that moment by something with such furious grace. Adversely, Nate was a fumbled amalgam of all evils, all torrents of hell and fire and monsters splashed and splattered into one negative, corrupt, and despicable beast, and she too hoped he would die at the moment, and by her hands as something so furious and graceful as she.

And when all reached a final pinnacle, that was when the shot was fired. Nate braced, and Adrian startled back a few feet from where she began. It all happened so quickly that it took a moment to convince themselves that neither were dead, and that the shot came from 60 yards off down the field.

There was a loud whimper from the clearing. In seconds, the elk were gone, with the exception of one, the large bull, staggering to its knees. Soon enough it was on the floor, its rack equal now to the tall grass, dead in seconds from the shot through its shoulder and into its heart. There was not much time to even bleed, as the shot was perfect.

Jacob had taken the shot, and as they all came together on the bull, he posed for a few pictures and looked about as proud as ever that the shot had been so accurate.

"I didn't think you were going to take it," he said to Nate. "We kept waiting and waiting for you to shoot, but nothing happened. The bull was just about to head back into the trees when I took the shot. What the fuck were you doing up there?"

Wes looked at Adrian. She was still red, though the rage had calmed, and he mistook the hue for something more innocent.

"Ok," he said, elbowing Nate. "I get it."

"I forgot who's shot it was," Nate said. "I thought I took it last year. We were waiting for you to take it. "

"No worries," Wes said. "You wouldn't have hit it that good anyway. From that distance we all know you would have gutted it, and then we'd be off looking for it in the damn weeds. No offense."

"Yeah, no worries," said Jacob. "We all know you were hitting something else fine enough."

"Hey," Nate said, taking his hunting knife out of its sheath. "You watch your god damn mouth or I'll take that shot right now."

"Let's all shut the hell up and dress this thing before we get a bear on our ass," said Wes. He pulled out his knife and began to unzip the carcass before he realized it may have been rude. "Sorry Adrian, I forget you haven't done this before. This might not be something you want to see. It only takes me a few minutes if you want to get the truck down here."

Adrian knelt beside the carcass and ran her hand along the stiff pelt. "It's not bad at all," she said. There was very little blood except for a small trail that dripped from the gaping flesh in the shoulder. "I know how to gut an animal."

Adrian took the knife from Wes and began to unzip the carcass with as much precision as he ever could have. Often times early in the hunt, they would have chosen to quarter the animal as to keep the scent minimal and to save space for a bigger animal, but all three were very curious to see exactly to what extent Adrian understood the sport. The further she zipped down the abdomen, the more severe, the more concentrated and adeptly determined she seemed. It was not easy even for a man to do, but Adrian was furious, and she channeled that fury into a something beyond herself. All three felt witness to something spectacular, or even cosmic, and they had no courage to intervene.

"You can leave the penis on the carcass," said Wes, as the knife grew. "The Wardens won't need proof with an animal like this."

Adrian didn't listen. She severed the penis with a dissident driving force that could have smashed even the largest of bones. All the while, she was still furious. The cold melted around her. The wind went opposite directions.

"I don't care about the Wardens. I think its best to have all the proof I need," she said. Once the penis was free, she placed it in her coat pocket and dropped the knife into the grass. There was blood everywhere now, all over the grass and the soil, and there was an uneasy stench of death and the art of dying. "You can finish the rest Wes," she said. "I'll go get the truck."

That night, the northern wind blew in a dampened version of its day form, and there was enough beer to quell the concerns of a raging fire. After what had happened, there was too much silence not to let the fire burn as high and loud as possible. The more Jacob drank, the more he threw into the pit, and the flames licked and sizzled enough to smother the usual dreary frankness of owls and nightly hounds. There was a stark sense of happiness that always came with the first kill. Wes, as he did annually, described in length of how his grandfather had discovered the grounds, and how his father took down a legend with a single bullet to the heart. Nate offered nothing to the conversation. He spent the evening staring in the flames as they ate and consumed all and everything.

Adrian was absent for most of the evening. She only came to join them once they were sufficiently drunk enough that she could enter the conversation. She took a seat by the fire, and invisibly cast a glance at Nate who avoided at all costs anything but the searing orange and trivial losses that shriveled beneath it's flower.

Wes and Jacob reviewed the map and had begun to argue over tomorrows game plan. They had both drunk enough that neither made good enough sense, and what they wanted could be said for both or for none. To simplify it all, one wanted to continue up the clearing and track the herd, and the other wanted to go somewhere deeper into the woodland.

"Why can't we go there," Adrian said.

It took a moment for the two to notice that somebody else had spoken. They looked at Nate, and then to the fire. By the time they came to the third option, they were entirely unaware they had been interrupted in the first place. Jacob began to review the map, and he held it up for her to see. Just north, before the mountains was a great woodland without trails or markings. This was the point of contention.

"Because of legends and monsters," said Jacob.

"I don't know why," said Wes. The alcohol made it him slightly vulnerable and he felt embarrassed to be judged in that sense. "I was always told to keep up with the clearing and follow the herd. All I know of the woods out there are bad stories."

"What does he mean by monsters and legends," asked Adrian.

"Not exactly monsters," Wes defended, "just stories from when I was a kid. They were just meant to scare you away, but I don't believe them."

"Then why can't we go?"

"If we go, then we stay together at all times. I don't know the woods there well enough. We hunt together and we stay together."

"Then we go there," said Nate.

His abruptness seemed to startle everyone but Adrian, who understood exactly his motivation.

"We've never been before," he went on. "This time maybe we can hit a legend, one that's grown wise to what we do. One of those princes that you see once but never get to shoot."

Wes sat back and looked into the fire. He was not in a place to reason at the moment. He looked over at Adrian who seemed very pleased with how the night was unfolding.

"It's not a place for a woman though, is it," she said. "At least certain women. I, myself, am not worried. I can handle this hunting thing no problem, but have you two ever taken a woman with you on a hunting trip?"

"No," Jacob said emphatically.

Wes did not have an answer, and Adrian zoned in.

"Or perhaps once you meet the perfect woman," she said, "she will go with you. Have you met the perfect woman yet, Wes?"

"You should see all the women he gets," Jacob interrupted. "He's never been with anything over a 5. Perfect and Wes are not in the same league."

"So what would be the perfect woman in your opinion?"

"Don't get him started," Wes said. "Anything that walks with blonde hair and pig tails and he'll jump on it like a dog fucking a leg. You throw her in glasses and that just seals the deal."

"And any girl with an accent, and Wes will be missing in that tent for a few minutes," Jacob said. Adrian focused in, even more now than when she unzipped the carcass; this was her true aim, and to Nate it felt no different. "Have you ever dated a girl without an accent, Wes? Always something or another. But it's all about the body to me. A nice shape and a strong-"

"Those are all very important features," said Adrian. She looked at Nate who refused to look back at her. They were across from the fire, but still she could see through the flames, and he chose not to. "What about red hair? I've seen some very beautiful women with red hair."

"Only without the freckles," said Jacob.

"Or only a little," said Wes. "But you should ask Nate about that. That's more of his ty-"

"Let's not talk about me," Nate interrupted, sternly enough to make even a drunk man understand.

"Then you can talk about you," said Adrian. "What is your type?"

"Wes," Nate said, changing the tone. "Do you ever feel bad for the animal? After how many we have killed. Do you ever feel remorse?"

Wes lost all the eagerness he once had, and he sat back and became solemn.

"No," he answered. "Not at all. Do you?"

"Not for the ones we kill," said Nate. "Not at all about the ones that die, but more so for the ones that live."

Adrian had been broken, but she wasn't too drunk to notice. She was the only person around the fire with any sense of the world around. As the fire flickered, so did her eyes, and as the the flames consumed, so did her will to remain composed.

"And why is that," she asked, only because the others would not, and she could not let the conversation die. She felt Nate would be more than content with that.

"People forget that the biggest drive of any animal isn't thirst, isn't hunger, but sex," Nate said. "It's the whole reason why the animals are even here in the first place. All these big bulls from all around the woods all come together just for the chance of releasing that pain. And yes it's a pain. It's a pain that's no different than hunger. When an animal starves, it has sympathy. If an animal dies of thirst, there is sympathy. But of the bulls that come here and lose their fight…sure the biggest bull gets to relieve some of that pain, but only for a short while. It's so much worse than hunger or thirst. Once its relieved its no better. It comes back stronger and with more of a vengeance than before and every … every single time, it's the same fucking aching pain driving into the brain like a goddamn nail. It's not something you can appease with a piece of bread or fucking water. It's like a virus, a criminal cold that devours every inch of the body, and that's even for the bulls that can release it. Thank god we shoot these creatures so they never have to feel that pain again. But what about the bulls that we don't shoot? What about those small bulls that we pass because they aren't the greatest. They have the same needs as the others yet they never get to relieve it. Nobody can imagine the fucking pain they feel every day, all night while they sleep, all day as they race about this piece of shit planet, just trying to get some relief. God knows they would bet all the food, and all the water, for that one chance to relieve at least a little bit of the pain, and just for that short while. That's why I feel regret, Wes. I feel regret because I hear them cry in the woods. I hear the lone bulls cry … and I know why."

"Is that so," Adrian said. "Is that fucking so?"

"It's not that easy for a woman to understand. I guess you wouldn't know why the bulls cry."

Adrian stood, and the air seized, and the flames dampened enough so that Nate could see her now over the fire, and there was no noise, and there was no wind, and there was no crackle, and all the owls had fallen from their roosts, and the hounds of night had died. Adrian reached into her pocket, and held up the elk penis from earlier. They all could see it, with it's blood dried and red, but it was only meant for Nate. Once she had his attention, she tossed it into the fire and left.

Suddenly the wind began again. The flames rose higher than ever, and there was an abhorrent sizzle that gave each and every one of them a chill that was deeper than cold.

The next morning, camp was packed early, before the sun could completely rise, and while the fog was still so thick the truck could barely pick up speed. Wes drove through a partial field of haze and greenish-orange light speckled down from what was left of a moon. The road wasn't paved, but consisted of broken patches of tall grass and speckled meadows of which Wes knew very well, so much that he was able to bank in between Douglas growths, in and between, no different than he would with a city curb or an on-ramp. Running alongside, and almost always near to the truck, was the river, and when the windows were down, it could be heard trickling slowly against its many beaches of ancient wood and pebble. Sometimes a roe deer would cross the path, startle at the engine and be gone again into the trees.

They came across a bend where the river trickled out into a shallow running stream, bubbling just slightly over soft stones. There were tire marks where the mud had dried from previous seasons, on both sides where trucks had come and gone.

"One last time," Wes said, stalling at what appeared to be a fork, though not very well traveled. "Cross the river like usual? Or into the woods?"

Adrian and Nate were in the backseat but nowhere near each other. They both ignored the question and focused their eyes further on a rising bird or a cloud so they wouldn't be present. Jacob nodded, and resolved the quiet dispute. The truck didn't cross the river, but pressed into the woods.

Wes drove slowly, and the truck bumped steadily along as he followed the map. The moon had passed beneath the earth, and the sun was high enough that the sky was blue in between the gray clouds, and beat the earth until it sizzled from within the trees. The fog was no longer just water, but a steam that spewed from the soil, from pits of dark where the light didn't filter between the leaves. The woods were too dense now to differ colors; it was all rich in every shade of season, transposed with many deaths and many births into a violent torrent of reds and greens and yellows. Some of the trees had already begun to drop their leaves, and only their bones were present among the scene.

"What is this?" Adrian asked. She had been looking through the equipment packed tightly beside them in the backseat. She held up a weathered metal jaw of spikes, that had partly rusted from age.

"Bear trap," Wes said. "I found it once when I was kid. It was armed when I found it. I stepped about a foot from the damn thing. It would have taken my leg off if I did. But I took it with me as a souvenir. They're illegal to use now, but I thought it would be fun to have. Maybe good luck."

"Are there a lot of bears?"

"I've never seen one. But I've also never hunted here before."

"Is that why you said we need to stay close? What happens if we run across one?"

"You're dead," said Jacob. "Ripped to shreds and shards before you could even think."

"It's not good," said Wes. "You never run."

"They will chase you, and win quickly."

"What do you do," said Adrian.

"Play dead," Wes said, he was struggling now to find space for the truck while keeping on with the directions. "Just lay down and play dead."

"And that works?"

"Yeah," said Nate. "Enough for the bear to rip his claws in you and sink his teeth into your skull. I've seen someone who played dead and they should just as well have died. Half of their face was missing at that point. And they glued on skin from their ass just to make them presentable to children."

"Better alive than dead," said Wes. "No other options you have."

"Pray," said Jacob.

"Just stay close together and they'll leave us be," said Nate. "They won't mess with a group of people. A bear would hear or smell us a good 200 feet out and keep its distance."

Suddenly the truck stopped just before the great wood. There was nowhere left to go except back. Here the pines were tall, and the mountains were purple and white caps worn above them. They all did not say, but they all felt a diminutive curse, a whoosh of a great presence that made them all secretly feel small. It was as if the woods had been born from this instance, or life itself.

"And this is where we begin," Wes said. "The rest is by foot. On the map there is a big gorge where the river breaks away. It looks about two days. We go there and back. A couple days and we should absolutely come out with something big."

After gathering as much as they could, or would need, they set out single file, rifles beside them like a small army. Beneath the trees it seemed as if the woods rose endlessly into sprouts of blue and gray leaves. The soil was hidden beneath small blooms of weeds, mosses, and mushroom that took life in the dead needles and crunching leaves. It could be beautiful or ugly, or neither at the same time, because it felt a world of no other, one that belonged to none of them, and could have just as easily been Jupiter or the Moon.

They hadn't gone too far when they first heard an encouraging bellow. The sound, without knowing, stopped them all mid-hike, and they couldn't help but listen as it rose into a symphonic aerial joined by many others. It was a deep, organic bellow that played the air like many deep and vibratic bells, and couldn't be anything other than the Elk, and more importantly large bulls. All but Adrian, who didn't know any better, looked at each other and smiled.

Not much further, they encountered their first bull grazing on a patch of open brush beneath where the ground split clifflike behind him. He was not afraid of the group, and they were able to get close enough to smell the animal, close enough to hear him breathe and to see the powerful beating veins that fueled his heart. He watched them, and continued to chew. He was not afraid.

"We won't go any further," Wes said. "It's your shot, Nate. He's bigger than anything we've hit so far. Maybe we won't need to go another day."

Nate held his rifle and began to sight for the shoulder. He had never hunted away from a clearing and it was tough to find good placement among the brush and trees. The elk seemed to blend into the green and red, almost like water.

"I don't have a shot," he said. "If I gut him, we'll never find him here. I need to get closer."

"If we all go, he will run," said Jacob.

"There is high ground behind him," said Nate. "If I could get above him, I'll have a better shot. And he'll have to go towards you. If I get a good enough shot, he'll die right where you can track him."

Nate began to walk off when he heard the needles break softly behind him. Adrian was following, and he began to walk faster. His speed was bound by the animal, but she had no restraints because she could care less about the beast. He had a sudden urge to turn and shoot.

"I didn't tell you to come," he said.

"I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do," she said. "It's obvious enough you can't be left alone."

Nate didn't care anymore about the elk either. He could move quicker than she could through the dense wood, and soon enough he had lost her, at least for the moment. He found his way to a good spot on the rise and knelt. The beast was below, aware of his presence but about as indifferent as he was. He had never known death. His rack was the largest Nate had ever seen, and he was young and built less like an animal, and more like a beast. The more Nate sighted the animal, the more he wanted to shoot it. These were the beasts of the mating feast that reaped the most havoc on them all, and no more pleasure could come from killing it. Its murderer was a god of its own; a savior to those of a lesser stock and world of agony. And in this thought, he sighted the heart churning a torrent of red fuel into every thundering muscle.

Before he could pull the trigger, there was a scream. It was scream of complete horror and fright, and the bull rose and melted into the trees. It was Adrian, and it came once more, just as horribly as before. Nate ran toward it, smashing through the boughs and twigs. He could hear the others at some distance all crashing toward the scream. Nate was first to find its source. The dense woods opened just enough for him to see Adrian on the floor, she was motionless, but not dead, just wanting to be dead, and terrible at it, as her own heart could be seen beating, and her face was flush in fear, and she couldn't close her eyes because of what she feared a few feet away.

There was dreadful rage in the forest. The birds all took flight, and the trees shook. It was a bear that threw the trees aside like dead leaves and broken bones, and it came upon Adrian, with a rage and roar unlike any torrent but thunder. She was playing dead, as they had told her. She must have seen it coming, and that was why she had screamed. The bear came to within feet from her where she lay, and it rose on two legs, into the sky to a height that no one could understand. It was larger than comprehension, bigger than any monster Nate could ever dream. It rose so that the sun fell away, and a dark shadow engulfed them both in the fright of its eyes, deep chasmic pits that churned under the dense roar and rage of its jaws. As it swung its paws, the wind blew with it, as storms conjure.

Adrian eyes were open through all of this, because she couldn't keep them closed. She looked at Nate, and he looked at her, and it was the first time they had made contact all day. He held up his rifle and without hesitation, sighted the heart. He let off several shots that could barely be heard under a tremulous roar.

Wes was beside him now. He was screaming too, though nearly inaudible.

"Don't shoot it! You'll kill her," he was saying, but Nate continued to fire. "Don't!"

Adrian braced her head. It was no use any more to play dead, and she was no good at it anyway. Instead she watched the bullets slam into the bear's shoulder. Red droplets pooled down its fur as it let out an echoing rebuke of rage. It fell back to its four legs, though it wasn't any less of an animal. It snapped its jaws, within striking distance of her face. One bite would smash her skull just as it had done with the trees. But it didn't strike. It looked from where the bullets had come, almost as if it had been shot before. After the next bullet hit, it braced the earth with its mountain-like heels, and sprung back into the woods from where it had came. Just like the bull, it was gone quickly, its body manifesting in small tremors, like the trails of storms and rushing rain.

Adrian was crying now. Nate came to her and helped her to her feet. She was still too shaken to stand and fell to her knees.

"You could have killed her!" Wes shouted. "You fucking bastard! You knew that wasn't going to kill a bear!"

"I've never seen anything that big," said Jacob.

"She could have been mutilated!" Wes said, he was half tempted to pull his rifle on Nate, but restrained mid-way.

"She would have been mutilated," said Nate. "It was about to tear her fucking skin off. I saved her."

"You don't shoot a fucking bear when he's that close!"

"I've never heard of a bear being that big," said Jacob. "Not even half that size."

"It would have left her alone," said Wes. "She was playing dead."

Nate pulled Adrian to her feet, and he held her to his body. She wanted to slouch to the floor but he held her tight to his chest.

"Fuck you," he said to Wes. "I wasn't going to watch her face get torn to bits. It was my decision to make and I fucking saved her. I'm taking her back to the truck. We're leaving."

Adrian attempt to pull away, but Nate wouldn't let go.

"You shouldn't have come," he told her, but gently so. "You didn't have to come."

"It was your fault," she said, pushing him away. "I had to."

Nate tried to hold her close, but she threw herself off into the leaves. She regained her feet and held both hands on the rifle.

"Why did you need to be alone," she shouted. "I didn't need to be alone. Why did you need to be alone? You couldn't be alone, could you? It was your fault, not mine!"

"Fuck you," he shouted back.

"Fuck you! Fuck all of this. Fuck the elk and the goddamn bears. It's your fault I'm here. And you know damn well."

"You knew she wouldn't be here."

Adrian gripped her rifle so hard it nearly fired.

"It's not her why I'm here," she said. "It's you. Fuck you. You should have let the bear tear off my goddamn face. It's not my face you want anyway."

Adrian dropped her rifle to the forest floor and began off. Before she could make the tree line, there was another scream, so near that it caused the others to ready their rifles. Adrian froze and when she looked back, the others were all set to fire on the tree line, but there was little to indicate from where it came.

"What the fuck was that," said Adrian.

It came again, this time closer. And then again, and now it was coming from where the bear had fled. It was a woman's scream, no different than Adrian's, indistinguishable in fear and horror. Then there were crushing leaves and shuffled branches. Something was running, but not thunderous and bulky. It wasn't the bear, but the men didn't ease until a girl came into the clearing and stumbled to her knees. She was naked and dripping blood badly from a wound in her right shoulder. When she saw the men, her horror turned to extreme salvation. Jacob caught her before she collapsed.

She was small and delicate, and he carried her to where the bear had left its impression just moments before. She held to him like a child. There were tears pooling now along her cheeks, ones of either happiness or sustained fear. Jacob was not a tender man, and he held her no different than he would an owl or a falcon.

"It was a bear," she cried out as Jacob set her down. "It bit my husband, and then it came at me too."

Jacob had already dropped his gear and began unpacking for the first aid. The wound on her shoulder was fresh and dripping badly. The gash was open enough that it would need stitches, and very quickly. Wes put pressure to stop the bleeding, while Jacob dressed it the best he could. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the bugle of large elk, and nobody had enough time to see the irony but Nate.

"I ran as fast as I could," said the girl. "It ambushed us before we could even see it. I ran, but my husband couldn't run. The bear bit his leg first, and I kept running. I thought I was lost until I heard your shots. We need to go help him. Please, or the bear will kill him."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know where I am now, but I can show you. If my husband is alive, he made it back to the cabin. We weren't too far when the bear attacked."

Wes sat back and looked at the map. There was no cabin or trails listed, but it was a part of the woods he didn't know. Anything could have been there.

In all the chaos, Adrian was unnoticed. She listened to the wild and felt for the first time the forest was actually listening back. It was all too uneasy just to get caught up in the mess they were in. She looked at the broken trees where the bear had fled, and she felt all over again the heat of its breath and the smell, an explosive gale of rot and forgotten dead souls. The bear was gone, but not the smell-that lingered again, as if it were breathing down her neck. While Wes and Jacob dressed the wound, Adrian came to see the girl. The girl was completely naked, with several small holes in her pale shoulder. The boys had finally gotten the bleeding under control and beneath their bad stitching could be seen red strands of flesh holding to flaps of torn skin.

"Please," said the girl. "We need to go help him. We need to help my hus-"

"Why are you naked," asked Adrian. "Where are your clothes?"

It was very clear they had all forgotten Adrian even existed. Nate had been the only one to notice that Adrian had retrieved her rifle, and held it so that, as she came to the girl, its barrel faced her, just inches from the nose. Nate reached out and lowered it away. He was not surprised to find resistance as the barrel eased.

"She looks like your size," Nate said. "You have extra clothes in your pack."

"The bear ripped them when it struck my shoulder," responded the girl. She did not look at Adrian when she spoke, but looked at the men around her. "I had to tear what was left off, so they wouldn't catch in the branches as I ran."

"But your underwear? Did the bear rip those t-"

"What is your name," Nate interrupted, and the girl looked relieved. Nate helped Adrian remove her pack and he gave the girl a set of clothes. At first she did not answer, and began to dress. He repeated the question, and she looked back and forth among them, again skipping Adrian.

"Morrigan," she said.

"Nice to meet you Morgan," said Jacob, as formal and calm as if the acquaintance had come at work. "It's a pleasure."

"That's a very nice accent you have," said Wes. "Where are you from?"

The girl again did not answer, but that seemed very proper, being that nobody else could make out an accent while she spoke. Wes did not ask again, as he felt it was maybe a little too soon. Instead, he watched her dress very slowly, and he was amazed and struck by how well the clothes snugged to her body. She was tender around the arms, but even more so as she slid her pants just above the rise of her bottom as it wove into the subtle curve of a certain letter. Only Adrian noticed him watching. She watched him watch her, and at brief moments, she could feel the girl watching him.

It seemed that what was once morning was soon night, as if the forest had no clocks and no time, but a rhythm that occurred in cycles and waves that craved darkness and light no different than food or water. The moon seemed rushed, and its light was near to nothing, as if exhausted. There were no stars, but no clouds, and an owl was there, its eyes small beams, unconcerned whether one chose to stare back or let it be. It did not hoot, and neither did it take flight, as if frightened, or frozen with anticipation. There was a breeze, but not enough to rustle the leaves or carry the scents of far away streams and running waters.

"We need to leave," said Adrian. She had pulled Nate away from the fire, so the others could not hear. It raged behind them, and it seemed too loud to be a part of the mellow wood. They were all too frightened to let it burn any less. "I don't want to stay another fucking night. You saw that thing today. It's not afraid of anything."

"What about her husband?"

"You saw that thing. If her husband is out there, he's dead."

"But we can't be sure. What are we going to do? Just say to hell with it? Everybody, let's pack it up and hit the road?"

From where they stood, the fire was close enough to light their faces in blacks and oranges and dancing shadows of yellows and green. Over Nate's shoulder, the others were sitting beside it. They did not care that the others were missing. It was unnaturally calm. Jacob was watching the girl. And she was sitting very close to Wes. He held the map open, and she pressed into his chest, leaning in eagerly to show them both where the cabin happened to be. Occasionally Nate would look back too, and he did his best to look at the fire and its cleansing spirit, but his eyes often missed and went right on by. Sometimes too, the girl was looking at them, and Adrian only cared about which one was the target.

"I don't trust her," she said, as Nate looked over his shoulder. The night was cold, but he was sweating-sweating as if the fire were on his neck and his skin began to bubble. "I don't trust her at all. Not in any way. Something doesn't feel right."

"Come on Adrian," said Nate, taking a few steps toward the fire. They almost felt as if they weren't his, but he needed to take them. And when he did Adrian seemed so much further, and he felt cold again. "Let's not do this now."

"Wait," she cried out. It seemed so loud that the others should have been startled, but they had no idea. "Just us. We don't need them. They can go get the husband. We can go get help."

Nate didn't give a response. He sat down by the fire and joined the others. Soon they were all drinking to keep from talking to each other. Adrian sat by the fire too, and she drank as much as she could possibly drink, until the owl began to hoot again and the stars began to burn brightly. Soon enough, they all had enough that the wind was cold again, and the moon was charged, and they all wanted to talk, about anything and everything at once.

Wes told the story about the bear attack, how Nate had fired, and the bear had run off. He mentioned how Adrian had frozen on the ground. Jacob mimicked the shots into the bear's shoulder, and he nearly fell into the fire imitating the pain.

"You're very lucky," said the girl, looking sincerely at Adrian now, "normally, when you fire on a bear it only makes them angrier. Many people die that way. I'm surprised Nate didn't know that. How long have you hunted, Nate? Did you not know that? Did you know that normally it would have killed her?"

Adrian did not let Nate answer.

"Do you think your husband is dead," she asked. "You haven't spoken about him in a while. I just want to make sure you haven't forgotten about him."

That moment came a cold breeze that was loud and pushed the fire across so near to Adrian's face that she had to sit back to avoid the burn. The owl was startled enough to finally take flight and leave them be, though he wanted to wait. The girl took the opportunity to tuck her body so near to Wes, that he became very red, and he covered her with his blanket until she was well again. It made him very happy to see her well again.

"Tomorrow we will find him," she said. "I've been lucky, too-to run into men like these who can take on a bear of that size."

"Don't mind her," said Nate. "She is drunk."

"We are all drunk," said Adrian. "Except for her. Why do you not drink? I thought all red-heads love to drink. Isn't that true Nate?"

Jacob stood and went to his tent for another beer. He brought two to Adrian who took them and drank them very quickly.

"Just a few more," he said, patting her on the back. "You're at the color blind stage. Next stage you'll be knocked out. I think we all want to be knocked out tonight."

By the time Adrian had finished the second drink, Nate had fallen off the chair and lay in the fallen leaves. Nobody helped him to his tent, because nobody wanted to leave the fire. Soon enough, Jacob had passed out in the truck cabin, and the stars got brighter. By the time the moon was at full shine, and Orion's Belt was just above the hidden mountains, Wes had fallen asleep with the girl beside him. Adrian waited until the girl closed her eyes before she began to dream.

Her dreams were uneasy, and she woke to the sudden crashing and snarls of a bear. The scent of rot and death had never left and she couldn't dream of anything other. At times, she would open her eyes, and the fire would flicker lower and lower and she would know that time was passing but at whatever weight the forest craved at the moment. Each and every time she woke, her first sight was the girl. Her red hair was brighter than the fire, and her freckles were broken stars. She was incredibly beautiful.

As the fire was near dead, Adrian woke to the girl standing above Wes. Her head was near his, and her nose close to his exposed neck. She was smelling him, and she ran her hands, or paws near to his heart. She was smelling him with her snout, and she licked his forehead with her long tongue and foul breath. Soon, she was on him, like a bear.

Adrian could take no more. She woke Nate the best she could and brought him to the tent. She tried her best to make love, but neither had enough sense to undress the other, let alone themselves. Nate was asleep again before her, and as her head hit the hard ground, she wondered how none of them could hear the growling.

It was in the hours between morning and day when the bear came back. The shudder on the ground was enough to waken even the deafest of men. Jacob was the first to see the bear crash down with enough force that Wes lost his head and died within seconds. It rolled along the ground, collecting dust and dew and tripped Nate as he zipped opened the tent and stumbled out.

This time it wasn't Nate who fired. In a matter of seconds, Jacob let every bullet he'd packed into the massive body of the animal, and it rose and accepted the metal as if hungry for them, as if torrid with vengeance. Adrian was out of the tent now, and putting on her shirt. She didn't even scream when she saw the bear. Without knowing, she kicked away Wes's head on accident. He rolled near to the bears feet; his eyes were still closed from the alcohol.

The bear saw her, as if it remembered, rose to its hind legs, and came down onto the skull until it exploded over the campground. He took the rest of the body in his jaws and left into the woods. Jacob chased after, his rifle empty now, but he still fired. He was about to enter the trees in pursuit when Nate tackled him. There was too much happening to concern themselves with the blood. Every leaf, the dew, all the moss, and the twigs and branches, even their clothes seemed to be red.

"Where is the girl," Adrian cried out. "Where is she?"

The men hadn't even though of it, or cared to think now. Once Jacob had calmed, Nate fell back and looked around the campgrounds. Wes was everywhere, and he could hear nothing, and see nothing but the explosion, all the red and all the color. There was too much crying out to understand.

"Stop crying," he yelled at Adrian.

"I'm not crying," she said.

It wasn't Adrian. It came from where the bear had fled. Once they all looked, they could see her crying. The girl was there, pressed tightly against one of the tall Douglas trees the bear had smashed in half like twig as he ran off. She was horrified, and pressed her face into her knees. When Nate picked her up she was bleeding again. The branches from the tree had pierced her chest in many places and he brought her to Jacob to dress.

"Where were you," said Adrian. "Where the hell did you go? You were right there."

"I tried to wake him," she said, "but he was too drunk. He wouldn't budge."

"Bull shit! How did you end up right there? Why didn't it kill you?"

"Leave her alone!" Nate shouted back. "She's hurt. She needs our help."

"There's nothing wrong with her. She's perfectly fine."

"Nate," said Jacob. "Maybe she is still drunk."

Adrian left them alone and walked around the campsite. She could not avoid stepping in Wes, and after trying, quit because he was no different than the forest now, and she hated it. The bear couldn't be heard, but it felt so near. She could smell it again, breathing down her neck.

"Do you need help?" Nate asked Jacob. He knew he needed to go to Adrian, but didn't want to. Jacob understood.

"I'm fine," he said, turning his attention to the girl. "It's a good thing you tied your hair in pig tails last night. Or all that blonde would be covered in blood."

"Thank you for helping me," she said.

"I don't know why," said Jacob, helping her to her feet. "But it makes me happy."

Without a word, they had all agreed to leave Wes's things in the campsite and leave as quickly as possible. Wes had been the navigator; it was his map, and his woods-they were all just guests, and now felt like intruders.

"Let's go that way," said Adrian. "That's where we came from. Our tracks are still there."

Jacob and Nate were both looking at the map. They were talking, but low enough that Adrian couldn't hear. The girl held onto Jacob now, as if she could hardly walk. While they spoke to each other, she looked right into Adrian. Adrian looked right back, and repeated her lines to the same attention as before. Very quickly, she felt lonely, and maybe saw the girl grin or grimace from her wound. It was very hard to tell the difference.

"My husband needs help," said the girl.

"We can't help him-"

"Is there a vehicle at the cabin?" said Nate.

"Yes. We have a truck."

"Are you fucking kidding me," cried Adrian. "Did everyone forget what just happened?"

"The bear is tracking us," said Jacob. "It's another day out of the woods on foot. If we go back, we will all be dead when night hits."

"We go to the cabin," said Nate. "We stay there, and we leave in the morning. We will be back before the afternoon tomorrow. Let's go now."

They began off again quickly, not even looking back to remember the tent left behind. Adrian tried her best to stay in the rear of the line, but Jacob couldn't walk fast enough with the girl on his side. At one point, he lifted her completely off the ground and held her in his arms. Her red hair dangled over his elbow and she looked back at Adrian, and possibly grimaced or possibly grinned again, but the world was to hard to make out even the strongest of gestures. Nate was gaining ground ahead of them, but Adrian didn't care. She didn't want to look away from the girl, and not because of the hate she felt for what she was, but because of the fear. And the girl knew she was looking, and she was very aware of all that Adrian did.

"Ouch," cried the girl. "Please slow down. I think I need to walk again."

Jacob stopped and Adrian nearly ran into him.

"Let's go," shouted Nate.

"Just a second," said Jacob. "She is trying to walk again. My arms are about shot anyway."

Nate waved for Adrian to catch up, and she passed the two reluctantly.

"She is too soft to be out here," said Nate. "It's too dangerous for a girl like that."

"What do you mean, soft?"

He didn't answer, but started walking again. The trees were very thick, and there were only small trails from where the elk had passed. It was bright, but there were still patches of snow where the sun was hidden. Adrian wanted to walk beside Nate, only he was too hard to keep up with while looking over her shoulder. She couldn't help it though. She looked back and could swear the girl was grinning, but from that distance, Nate would not believe her. The quicker Nate moved, the further back Jacob became.

"Slow down," she said.

Nate only sped up. Adrian did too. As much as she wanted to keep a line of sight with the girl, she also did not want to be caught alone in the wild. She walked faster, following the crunching needles ahead of her, running into branch after branch as she looked behind. Before they were gone in the pines, Adrian could see the girl grinning again. This time Adrian was very certain she was grinning, even at that distance, but her tongue was out, and her jaws were open. Her paws were on his neck, and she could smell everything once more, stronger and stronger-

"Nate," she cried out, "Stop!"

But again Nate didn't listen.

"Nate!"

Adrian couldn't walk any more. She couldn't keep up and she couldn't fall behind. She turned her rifle to the sky and fired. Then there was a roar, and the earth shattered. Nate was coming back now. He tackled her and held her to the ground just before the bear smashed through where she had once been. Each step trembled the earth. This time, the bear didn't rise to show its worth, it only swung its jaws from side to side, blood flooding over the grounds in a red deluge. Nate held Adrian tight to the floor. When she tried to raise her rifle to shoot, he kicked it from her.

Jacob was with them, dangling from the jaws of the bear. The bear tightened and he shattered beneath the pressure. If he had not been dead, then they had heard him die. He began to drip, and the bear spit over them any excess and began to swallow what it could. All the warmth they felt began to melt into the white snow. The bear exhaled a reddish gale, and ran off from where it came.

Adrian was quick to rise, while Nate lay in shock. He looked up to see her with her rifle again, it raised and ready to fire. She was not looking for the bear, and he was sure of it.

"Stay back," she cried out. "Get the hell away from us! I know what you are."

When Nate saw the girl limping through the trees, he rose and stood in between her and the rifle. She was crying and he felt a need to help her along, but there were so many urges, too much to do anything but stand in between.

"Get out of the way, Nate," Adrian shouted. "We need to shoot her before she kills us too. I know what you are. I've seen what you do."

"Stop Adrian," said Nate. "Put the rifle down. I told you this isn't the time."

"It's not about that," she said. "Jesus Christ, Nate, can't you see it? What just happened?"

"Help me Nate," cried the girl. "I think my leg is broken."

Adrian pushed the rifle against Nate's chest. She felt like touching his heart enough to cause the pain she felt at the moment.

"Don't you fucking touch her!"

"Please Nate. I don't know what she's talking about."

"Where were you? Where the fuck were you just now?"

Before the girl could answer, Nate snapped and tore the gun from Adrian's grip. He felt her tighten on the trigger, but the rifle was taken too quickly for it to fire. Nate held it cross-ways, like a bar to her neck, and pressed her tightly up against one of the firs, until her eyes were level with his eyes and her feet were off the ground. She tried to squirm, but he held her firm until she quit and understood she couldn't win.

"We are going to the fucking cabin," he said. "And you're going to follow me there and you're not going to hold another rifle in your hands as long as you're my girl."

After he spoke, he dropped her, and she fell to the floor and began to cry. Her body had landed in the snow, but it was no longer white….it was very red, and so were the trees, and so were the shrubs; even the larks that flew in and between were red. She didn't want anybody to see her cry, so she wiped her eyes and her dripping nose and stood.

Nate picked up the girl and held her the way Jacob had. He led the way into the trees, heading toward the cabin. Adrian followed behind, but she would not cry.

Just before night, they came to the cabin. Adrian had always doubted it would be there, but here it was before them. There was no clearing were it stood, as if the forest were trying to take back what the cabin had stolen. It looked almost ancient, like a ruin, or an old tomb. Grass grew on the patio steps. The windows were shattered from encroaching branches. There was a road that had been grown over time and time again by white weeds and red flowers that led off into somewhere, and looked to come in, but not go.

A truck was parked just outside. It wasn't new, but wasn't old and it looked out of place among the ruin, as if left there by accident. Nate ran his hand along the body, and it was covered in dust and spider webs. It looked questionable if it even ran.

As they came up the steps, the wood squealed and barely held. Nate looked through the dusted windows, but saw or heard nothing. Along the walls were old, rusted traps that Adrian recognized well from a few days before.

"Bear hunters," said the girl. "This cabin used to be used to hunt bears. But nobody comes any more. Nobody has been around here in a long time. It's illegal now. But now we are here."

"Where is your husband?" asked Adrian.

"Not now," said Nate. "We need to get inside. It's getting too dark."

Inside, the air was stale and dusty. Adrian didn't want to be there any longer, but Nate was too busy getting the fire ready. He threw an old pile of wood and used his lighter to get it started. All the spiders began to scream as the dust began to melt.

"Your husband isn't here," said Adrian. "We came looking for your husband. Nate, we should leave."

Nate ignored her. He helped make the girl a soft bed in front of the fire and he covered her in a blanket from his pack. Green rays of moonshine flooded through the cracks in the windows. Outside, a light snow had begun and it was very cold. The wind blew and there was little heat except for in front of the fire.

Adrian did not want to sit down. She went from old cupboard to old desk, skimming through each drawer for everything or anything useful.

"We should leave, Nate," she kept repeating. "We need to leave now."

She found keys for the truck where they had been left many years ago, next to the cabin door. Nothing in the cabin had been moved or touched since. It became very clear that whoever had come had never left. But it was so cold, and the wind beat against the trees so that each bough shook against the walls of the cabin. Upstairs, the windows were shattering. But only she could hear.

Adrian came to the fire. Nate was drinking and looking into the flames, almost close enough to reflect the emptiness inside. She held the keys so he could see, and when he made no sense of it, she held his shoulders and shook him.

"We need to leave, Nate,"she said. "Her husband isn't here. I have the keys, lets go."

"It's too cold now," he said. "We will freeze."

"We will die here."

The girl began to shiver, and her teeth began to shatter.

"It's so cold," she said to Nate, and Nate alone.

"It's ok," he said. "I'll take care of you."

Nate held the girl, and she buried her head into his chest and felt happy to help her get warm again. He covered her with the blanket, and each time Adrian began to speak, she began to shiver and Nate would hold her tight and forget all about it.

"She is very soft," he would say. "This is too much for her. Can't you see that, Adrian?"

Adrian kept the fire roaring as strong as she could. She refused to sleep, and she watched and waited till she saw the girl's eyes close. Nate had a hold of her red hair, and she buried her nose into his chest.

"Wake up, Nate," said Adrian.

When he opened his eyes, she was standing above him, a rifle in one had, and burning log in the other. Her shadow rose against the old walls of the cabin, as if she were double in size, but no less horrifying.

"It's time to wake up," she said.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Shhhhh," said Adrian. "Look-"

She tossed the burning log onto the girl beside him. Nate jumped back into an old cabinet, and the dust rose and mended with the flames into a sickly smoke. The cabin was on fire, and the air was dark and warm. Then came the roar of the wild beast, and Nate was frozen in terror.

"Look at her," Adrian cried out. "Look at her now."

Through the smoke and flames, a hand came forward, bound for Nate's neck. Mid-way it became something giant, something brute and devil like, in the shape of a giant paw. The paw came within inches and fell short. It came again, and then another, each time either the hand or the paw as if it couldn't decide on which one to be. Every time it came with a terrified squeal, the squeal of an ancient death.

"Shoot it," Nate said.

"No," said Adrian. "I want to watch it die."

The bear jumped for Adrian, but she didn't flinch, and the bear fell short. Nate began to choke from the flames. Once he stood, he could see now why the bear was screaming in such a way. Both legs were caught in traps chained to the fireplace. Each time it lunged, it fell short and gasped. The fire came on it like an animal of its own.

"Let's go now," said Nate.

"Not any more. Let's watch it die."

Nate couldn't watch. The squeals interchanged between a woman's cries and that of a beast until they were one and the same. As its flesh began to singe, he could see her, and then it, and then all the same. And she cried to him, exclusively to him. Before it fell dead, its fur began to melt into her breasts, and she became gray and old and wrinkled and Nate could finally smell the sense of death and rot. He wasn't blind anymore.

Before they left, Adrian fired the rifle until it didn't move. She was choking and Nate had to pull her from the doorway before the flames collapsed the roof. What was left of the windows shattered, and the walls caved. What was held by the encroaching boughs lit the forest in a bright orange glow, and it looked like day even though it was very much black as night.

Nate took the keys and the truck started. The engine sputtered and the tires had no air, and they began down the road of white weeds and red flowers. Nate kept his eyes on the encroaching fire in his mirrors, so much that he didn't notice Adrian was pointing the rifle at him until they were long down the road.

"I need you to tell me something," she said.

Nate didn't want to speak, but he knew this wasn't a time where he could be silent.

"What did she look like to you?" said Adrian. "I need to know."

THE END

Bio: Erik Berg's other works can be seen in Southpaw, Quail Bell, Southern Pacific Journal, Blue Lotus, Pacific Wind, and many more.

E-mail: Erik Berg

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