Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I take a moment to run a hand down its fur. It’s thick, and softer than I would’ve imagined. The bear grunts at me, and lifts an arm to boost me onto its back. I settle on top of it and take handfuls of the bear’s fur, so I don’t slide off.
There’s a crash behind us, and Hannibal rises from the detritus of the warehouse. His glasses got knocked off, and his black eyes glint. He bares his teeth at me. His fangs are growing bigger before my eyes.
“Go,” I shout and grip the bear’s fur. Bear Darius lumbers towards the wall and tears a hole in the metal siding. I duck to shield my eyes from the falling debris. The bear’s muscles bunch under my legs, and we shoot from the hangar into thick woods.
Riding a bear is nothing like riding a horse. I plaster myself to the bear’s back as best I can, but his bulk is too broad for me to grip well with my knees. It doesn’t help that we’re racing over uneven terrain, dodging bushes and trees. Bear Darius keeps reaching back to push me into place.
I get the hang of it just in time for a roar to go up behind us. This roar is different from a bear roar. It’s more like the bellow of a water buffalo. Something is crashing through the woods behind us. Trees are falling in its wake.
Hannibal is coming for us.
Bear Darius picks up speed. I flatten myself against him and squeeze his big bear neck. He’s running flat out, but Hannibal is gaining on us. What I wouldn’t give for a tranquilizer dart right about now.
A tall pine tree arcs through the air and crashes down beside us. Darius veers left to avoid it. A few seconds later, another.
Hannibal is herding us. But where? I can’t lift my head very much without risking falling off.
Overhead, there’s a thunk, thunk, thunk sound. I tense, expecting a new sort of attack, but a big black helicopter flies overhead. The wind from its propeller shakes the tops of trees.
Bear Darius runs through a boulder studded clearing, and the chopper swings down. Canyon sticks his head out the open side.
“Head this way,” he shouts and waves his arm in a westerly direction.
There’s a crunch nearby. Through the trees, Hannibal has uprooted a tree and is hoisting it to launch it at the chopper.
“Look out,” I scream.
The tree trunk sails through the air, straight towards Canyon.
“Shiitake!” Canyon shrieks and ducks back inside.
“Hang on,” shouts Bern from the pilot’s seat. The chopper zooms off to the west. Bear Darius follows, leaping over boulders. I’m jostled so much, my legs go flying, only to bang back down on Darius’ back. The only thing securing me are my arms around the bear’s neck.
Ahead of us, the forest ends abruptly. I can’t see until we break from the treeline to run over the rocky face. We’re on top of a cliff. I can tell from the falling trees that Hannibal is right behind us. He has us cornered.
Bear Darius dashes forward. He’s going to run us right off the cliff. I bury my face in its fur.
At the last second, the chopper swings out and dips low.
Bear Darius leaps–
Bern tips the chopper on its side–
Bear Darius grabs the skids. The chopper rocks wildly but doesn’t plummet to the earth. We hang in the air. My arms strain, fighting to keep hold of Darius.
Hannibal skids to a stop on the cliff’s edge and throws a final tree trunk like a spear. It hurtles through the air. Bear Darius twists to avoid it. And I lose my grip on his neck.
“Darius,” I scream.
He shifts in midair and reaches out, grabbing my arm. The move jars my bones all the way up my shoulder, but I will him to hold on.
“I’ve got you,” he says. His fingers wrap around my biceps, holding me tight. We dangle in the air, breathing hard, until Canyon reaches down to help us up, and Bern throttles the helicopter up and away.
Chapter Fifteen
Paloma
The minute we touch down on Bad Bear Mountain, Darius points to the small hangar on the side of the runway. “You’ve got a welcome committee.”
There, standing next to Everest in bear form is Wren.
Darius, whose hair and beard grew Viking long again since he let out his bear, helps me out of the small plane. After the helicopter rescue, we switched to a puddle jumper. Bern did the flying and Canyon co-piloted. The two behaved rather competently.
As soon as my feet hit the blacktop, I run across the tarmac. Wren meets me half-way, and we collide into a big, messy hug.
“Gracias por Dios. Gracias por Dios. I thought you died, Rencita.”
“Estoy bien–I’m okay. Y tú?” Wren weeps in my arms.
“No, I’m okay, too.” We’re both sobbing with joy.