low

you've gone out hunting with your hyper friend, and they excel at it as only a hyper can

Part 1

“I can’t BELIEVE we got a spot at Arten Farms!” Gene exclaimed. “You know how many people try to get on that place’s waiting list in a year? C’mon, guess!” Jerry groaned. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Two thousand reservations a year, only one hundred slots granted. Look, I’ve heard this all before, Gene. You bring it up every time we talk about this place.” “I’m fucking PUMPED for this trip!” The look on Gene’s face when he arrived at Jerry’s place had said all that and more. Jerry was astounded that Arten Farms granted them a slot too, but for different reasons. Arten was one of the high-brow hunting resorts and preserves that only investment bankers and oil execs got to enjoy, and somehow, his humongous oaf of a friend managed to swing them a reservation. “Humongous oaf” was an apt phrase to describe Gene. An impossibly-built, 7’4” tiger with arms thicker than Jerry’s torso, it was hard to call him a natural hunter. The excessively-large cat could level a small mountain with his hands... if he could catch it. His size didn’t impair his astute senses, but his mobility was less-than-stellar. Where other big cats would go after prey on paw, Gene was stuck using weapons. He varied his arsenal most hunting trips, swapping between flails, (thrown) swords, armor-piercing rifles, hatchets, and cannons (which he generally shot from the hip). The region Gene and Jerry frequented was best known for medium-sized, quick game. Deer, duck, quail, the occasional mountain lion, Gene was outmatched in speed by all but one: the venerable bear. As Gene so often recounted, in December 2005, he stumbled upon a pair of abruptly, unhappily awoken grizzly bears. Suffice it to say, Gene was the victor. In the intervening years, Gene and Jerry worked as manufacturing consultants for Naron Materials (a wholly-owned subsidiary of the Remato Group). In reality, Jerry knew exactly how Gene had acquired their prestigious opportunity. Arten Farms had a problem, and it was… bears. As an organization founded for sport hunting, an unplanned (and, importantly, unpaid) consumption of their game was a significant problem to be dealt with. Was it coincidence that Gene’s boss’ boss’ boss, was at the Naron plant two and a half weeks ago? Was it mere chance that the same Executive Vice President of Operations habitually mentioned his yearly trips to Arten with his college buddies? Would such a coincidence extend to the fact that Gene’s thrice-superior had shared his senior dorm with the son of Darren Arten, heir to the meticulously manicured Arten Farms properties? No, Jerry didn’t think so. Regardless, he had a week-long ticket, and he was content to leave it at that. Upon arrival at the tall, immaculately painted gates, the two-man caravan was accosted by a small squadron composed of uniformed guards, and (generally) intimidating men in varying suits. A (generally) large spotted bull approached Jerry’s small white sedan. The bovine gestured for Jerry to roll down his window, and so he did. “Are you lost, sir?” the bull inquired gruffly. “I don’t think so. The directions I got said to take Annabelle lane until the gate,” Jerry replied. “I suggest you check your directions, sir.” “Is there some reason for that?” “This is private property.” “I know that. Are you going to let us in or what? We’re due to check in at one,” Jerry replied impatiently. The bull raised his eyebrows in smug disbelief, glancing to one of the other uniformed guards. “And you are… ?” the guard asked sarcastically. “Gene Carnegie and Jerry Deimont,” The bull pulled a folded sheet out of his back pocket. Quickly scanning it, his entertained expression returned to Jerry. Shaking his head, he motioned for Jerry to turn around. “What the hell? We’re supposed to be here at twelve forty five for a tour and check in at one. It’s twelve thirty nine.” “Like hell you are. I suggest you leave before we call the police.” Jerry heard the door on Gene’s oversized work van open. “Hold it!” a guard shouted. In near unison, a dozen pistols and tasers were drawn, mostly pointed toward the emerging hulk, but enough were aimed at Jerry to make him very uneasy. Various orders barked, and commands given in to hidden radio earpieces. “Situation at Entrance. Evacuate Mr. Lerois,” one suited canine yelled in to his wrist. “Central, lock down north-side! Code blue!” a uniformed eagle announced in to a radio. “Security incident, pull the board members back to fail-safe,” a suited horse called in to his collar. The bull, having unholstered his own weapon, looked furiously at Jerry. “I don’t care how many big guys you’ve got in there, we’ve got enough bullets to put ‘em all down,” the bull growled. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” he shouted toward the tiger. Gene put his hands as far up as his bulging biceps would let him, which is to say, not much. The tiger slowly approached the bull, despite his repeated warnings. Displaying remarkable calm while being threatened by a pistol-wielding bull, Gene slowly reached toward his back pocket. “KEEP THAT HAND UP! LAST WARNING!” Jerry, while abjectly terrified, couldn’t help but notice how far up the guard had to aim to point his gun towards his friend’s skull. “The reservation papers are in my back pocket.” “HAND. UP!” Reluctantly, Gene returned his hand to the sky. “TURN AROUND SLOWLY,” the bull commanded. Gene complied, the slips of paper hardly peeking out of his pocket, stretched by the force of his globe-like ass and the strength of his industrial denim pants. Jerry hesitantly looked around. All the guards, uniformed and otherwise, were nervously clinging to their weapons. Amid the unbearably tense situation, Jerry noticed more than a few guards eyeing Gene’s shapely, full ass. It was, of course, the object of the moment, as the bull reached with one hand to retrieve the flattened papers. Like a EOD technician reaching to cut a red wire, the bull delicately removed the papers. As soon as the papers had cleared the pocket’s top, the bull resumed his incessant barking: “ON THE GROUND, FACE DOWN.” He scanned the papers up and down, the expression of raw stress melting in to disbelief, and, shortly after, dread. The bull’s burly arm dropped to his side, and he carefully holstered his pistol. He brought his newly-freed hand to the back of his neck. “What’s the deal, Quentin?” another uniformed guard anxiously asked. “Open it up,” the bull answered. “What?” “I said open it up. The gate, I mean.” “Quit fucking with me, Quentin.” “I’m dead serious, Michael. These are the guys Andrew wants to take care of the black bear thing.” “Jesus, you’re not kidding? Andrew invited them?” “Open the fucking gate, Michael,” the bull directed, utterly defeated. Around the vehicles, each group of the suited bodyguards issued some variation of “false alarm”. After helping the immense tiger off the pavement, Quentin sulked off to a guard booth, presumably to update his resume. Eventually, the gate opened. Jerry and Gene were nothing short of thrilled get away from that gate as fast as they could.

Part 2

The Maecroft Lodge was the largest building on the continent to have been made in the log cabin style. It was four stories, with an indoor pool, an Olympic-grade gymnasium, a movie theater, a private medical facility, a gunsmith, an archery range, a pair of four-diamond restaurants, and a full business suite for use by visiting executives. The Arten family resided in its private top floor. Jerry had never imagined he would set foot on the immense campus, let alone in its crown jewel. From the time their paws touched the intricate red carpet of the lobby, the pair hadn’t lifted a finger. All their gear and belongings had already been delivered to their rooms. As they approached the reception desk, a well-dressed, moderate-sized lion greeted them. “Gene. A pleasure to meet you. My name is Andrew Arten. I have to say, you’re more imposing than Ryan’s description.” Gene, slightly embarrassed and wholly flattered, rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks.” “And then you must be Jerry,” Andrew said as he reached out to shake Jerry’s hand. “That would me. Nice to meet you.” “Glad you made it. I hope your travels were safe.” Jerry opened his mouth to mention the gate situation, but Gene elbowed him before he got a word out. “Is something wrong, Jerry?” Andrew inquired. “It’s nothing. I’m sure you’ll hear about it later,” Jerry said, receiving a glare from Gene. “Oh, you mean the incident at the gate?” Jerry nodded. “I’m terribly sorry about that. It’s an unfortunate consequence of our clientele’s position. When your facility caters to CEOs, bank presidents, diplomats and the like, sometimes security measures are forced upon you,” he explained. “Half of the gentlemen at the gate aren’t under our employ, but rather some of our clients’. I don’t mean to sound as if I’m pleased that it happened to you, but I’m relieved that we finally have a demonstration of why private guards shouldn’t be permitted at the gate. I’ve been arguing against that for years.” “What was it about, anyway? Why didn’t they want us coming in?” Gene asked. “I haven’t spoken to our guards yet, so I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it’s because of your, uh, vehicles.” “What’s wrong with them?” Jerry asked with a tinge of indignity. “I’m sure nothing’s wrong with them, but I can’t say a work van and a sedan are the type of vehicles our visitors usually arrive in. My best guess is they didn’t believe your reservations were genuine. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and I’m sad to say I don’t expect it would have been the last. Let me walk you to your rooms.” Andrew gestured to a hallway. Andrew continued as they walked. “Our guards are good people, if a bit overzealous. Quentin is the head of the perimeter security team. I’m incredibly grateful for his service, even if he can be full of himself at times,” he paused before resuming in a lower tone, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread this information beyond the three of us, but Quentin singlehandedly saved us from a dire situation five years ago. We were hosting a Senate function. 30 senators and over a hundred aides. I’m told word got around about the dates they would be staying with us. Some rather unsavory folks got hold of them, and forged reservation documents for themselves. The guard that was on the gate that morning had no way of knowing the reservations weren’t valid. Quentin was with him, but the other guard let them pass. It was a SUV that they arrived in. They were twenty feet past the gate when Quentin shot their rear tires out. Secret service had the assailants on the ground in cuffs in a matter of minutes.” “God damn. If the reservation looked right, what made him shoot the tires?” Gene asked, riveted by the recollection. “I’m glad you asked, because it’s why I’m going to see to it that Quentin will remain in our employ, even despite what’s happened today. Granted, we’ll have to remind him of our procedure of actually CHECKING reservations before refusing guests. But back to the terrorist matter,” Jerry stopped in his tracks. “Wait, you mean these guys were actual terrorists? Like, blow-themselves-up suicide-bomber terrorists?” “Not per se. From what I heard, it was more of a militia-style group that was unhappy with some of the more controversial policies this group of senators was advocating for. You gentlemen wouldn’t know this because I waived this policy in your case, but there are some weapons we don’t allow for hunting. Mostly excessively-violent automatic weapons, explosives, et cetera. I’m sure you can imagine why. But some weapons are simply unbecoming of this facility, and those too are disallowed.” Jerry and Gene nodded. “In the passenger’s breast pocket, there was a single 7.62 by 39mm cartridge. A distinctive brass casing. Quentin hadn’t recognized it at first, but he remembered that caliber bullet is used primarily by low-cost automatic weapons. He went to flag down the SUV, but they refused to stop. He drew his weapon, and with two shots stopped what could have been a massacre. These are your rooms, gentlemen. If there’s anything you need, please let me know. My cell number is on my card.” Andrew reached in to his suit pocket and handed them each a business card. “I’ll be dining at the South End Rievera tonight, around 7:30. I’d very much enjoy it if you’d join me to discuss the business of removing our disagreeable ursine residents.” The lion turned to walk away, before turning back. “I have no right to ask this, but I would consider it a personal favor that, if you gentlemen should run in to Quentin, you try to forgive him for today’s transgression. I have no doubt in my mind that he expects to be fired for this. He is a good man, a good guard, and in a stressful situation, what with all the private bodyguards trying to impose their protocols and procedures on him. I suspect it’s easy to overreact when you’ve been doing that sort of work for three and a half decades, mostly in war zones. Truthfully, it was my oversight that left you you two off today’s arrivals sheet, not his, and for that I sincerely apologize. The idea that you could have been injured horrifies me to no end, but it’s not right to blame him, or the other guards.” Jerry and Gene looked down. “Please, give it some thought. I look forward to seeing you at 7:30.”

Jerry was unzipping his suitcase on his bed, and Andrew was making his way back to the lobby when a sharp crunch rang out. Jerry recognized the noise, having heard it when Gene first moved in with him. He walked back to the hall to see Gene staring at the balled up, now-disconnected doorknob. Andrew walked back, looked at the crumpled brass in the tiger’s paw, then at the door, now missing a knob, back at the ball of metal, then up to Gene’s embarrassed face. Andrew looked confused, but he quickly regained his collected composure. “I, uh-” Gene started. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have maintenance drop by with something sturdier,” Andrew declared. Jerry waved the tiger in to his room to wait.

Andrew dialed the front desk and directed someone to repair the door. Half way back to the lobby, he couldn’t help but wonder what else might meet the fate of Room 130’s antique adornment. In trying to cleverly solve a problem, had he made an expensive mistake?

Part 3

Within the Maecroft Lodge, are two critically acclaimed restaurants: the South End Rivera which specializes in more classic dining, and Monté Fierea, the more modern and experimental of the two. Headed by world-renowned chefs and staff, the two restaurants have developed an ongoing rivalry to attract the most valuable customers. Despite their competition, they share a simple policy: If you kill it, they’ll cook it. For Jerry, this was a chance of a lifetime to sample delicately prepared cuisine from some of the finest hands and minds in the industry. For Gene, well, it was dinner time. Not to say he wasn’t excited to try the gourmet food, but weighing around 860lbs, he simply needed a lot of it to keep going. Thanks to his incredible metabolism and exorbitant muscle mass, he needed about 75lbs of food a day. Considering his usual 5-meal schedule on a normal day, that worked out to roughly 15lbs per meal. Unfortunately for the kitchen staff at the South End Rivera, Gene hadn’t eaten during the 7 hour drive. The Rivera had a strict dress code. Jacket and tie for men, to be decided at the maître d's discretion. Jerry, having an athletic, but otherwise normal build, had no issues meeting this requirement. Gene, not having been able to fit in to a normal suit since he was 6 years old, donned a polo shirt that would have been equally fitting as a ship’s mainsail. Fortunately for Gene (and the maître d's career), Andrew escorted them in. After this morning’s security error, Andrew figured it would be best to personally make sure things went smoothly, particularly to save himself face in front of the more... profitable clients. Catching the eyes of nearly every patron of the venue, the behemoth tiger, dapper lion, and the dressed up hare exchanged greetings and made their way to the chef’s table. Fearing a repeat of the doorknob incident, Andrew had a specialized bench fabricated by the maintenance staff beforehand. The seat, made of stainless steel, somehow managed to blend sturdy industrial style with a casual elegance. That is to say, it was a steel box with a small tablecloth draped across it. But it worked. It was abundantly clear to the pair of guests who was to sit where. Gene’s bench, taking the place of 3 usual seats, was next to Jerry’s. Andrew sat at the head of the table. “I hope your last few hours have been enjoyable.” Andrew started. “Andrew, I’ve wanted to see this building for the better part of 15 years. I’ve read every tour description watched both documentaries on it, and I have to say it has managed to surpass every one of my expectations,” Jerry complimented. “Jerry, you have no idea how refreshing it is to hear that,” the lion replied earnestly. “Some clients come here and expect to be carried to their every destination by hand. Figuratively, of course. We can do a great number of things for our clients, however enjoying the experience for them is not one. Dinner is on the house tonight, gentlemen. I strongly suggest the filet mignon, Odell is heading up the kitchen tonight, and it’s his specialty,” Andrew began. “Is there anything a bit more, uh, filling?” Gene asked. “Of course. Sharon! A few menus, please,” he called. A gazelle swooped in with a pair of leather-bound menus. After a moment to decide, Andrew and Jerry ordered a filet each. The gazelle turned to Gene. “I’ll start with a filet mignon, four thirty two ounce strip steaks, two racks of ribs, all rare, one of those hamburger platters with all the toppings, a oven-fired three-foot pizza with pepperoni, sausage, meatball, peppers, and extra cheese. Oh, and a salad for the table. Do you have a keg of the Arid Well lager?” The gazelle, eyebrows raised, looked to Andrew after using a few pages of her notepad to record the mammoth order. Andrew nodded in unsettled approval. “I’ll be back with your filets and the strip steaks shortly,” she said, departing for the kitchen. “Down to business, then,” Andrew announced. “We have a problem with some rather unruly black bears. They seem to have made themselves at home toward the south end of the hunting range, but trail cameras have spotted them as far as the northeast corner of the reserve. Now, if it were only a matter of disposing of them, we’d be in a much simpler position. The fact of the matter is that it’s not a viable solution to simply shoot them. We have plenty of marksmen in our employ, and other such resources are easily acquired.” Sharon, the gazelle, returned with a platter of various steaks, and behind her followed another waiter carting in Gene’s keg. The waiter with the keg pulled a tap out from his apron, and prepared to ready the keg for use. Gene waved him off. With the confused and frightened look Gene was so used to, he effortlessly relocated the keg to the seat next to him, and peeled the top off like a soup can. He took a swig, and returned it to its new seat. The waiter, now deeply intimidated by both Gene’s size, and the feat of strength (and the addition of alcohol to them), barely maintained his decorum as he refrained from sprinting out of the room. “What’s your interest in keeping them alive, then?” Jerry asked, returning to business. Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I... am not the only Arten child. My sister, Adelaide, also works on our property. I suppose you could say she’s more hands-on than I. In general, she directs the grounds- and game-keepers. She’s always been more at home in the woods and on the greens. Personally, I couldn’t handle being so far away from people. She considers herself responsible for every acre that doesn’t have a building on it, which, for your reference, is close to 1,700. I’ve tried to convince her that the bears need to go, but she won’t have any of it. On and on I’ve tried for seven years! Finally, six months ago, she gives me a break: she’ll set aside 25 acres, and we’ll fence them in, provided they’re captured and relocated without harm.” Gene stops chewing, “What do you mean ‘without harm’? They’re bears. I’m a big guy, but I don’t speak bear, and I don’t think they’re any good at reading sign language.” “Gene, I’ve spoken to Addie about this at length, and what I’ve come to conclude is that she wants them manually sedated and carried to the enclosure.” “Manually? As in, with a syringe? No tranquilizer darts?” “No. No darts. She’s been very clear about that aspect. And her chosen sedative wouldn’t fare well in such a scenario anyhow.” Gene went silent. The pizza, showing hardly any of the additional cheese for the meat, was delivered next. Gene took a slice. Or rather, half. Gene remained silent for a few minutes. “Mr. Carnegie? Is something the matter?” Andrew prodded. “I, uh-,” Gene drifted off. “Do I need to tell him?” Jerry asked with an edge of annoyance. “No, uh. Mister Artern, I’m not a fan of needles. Especially of the size that would make sense for bears.” Jerry blurted in, “Maybe we could talk to Addie? See if there’s something else… ?” “I wish you the best of luck in finding her. Frankly, from day to day, I can’t keep track of where she is. There’s a lot of land to keep here, and she’s a spontaneous sort of woman.” Gene’s food continued to trickle in for the next ten minutes, the party sitting in the sort of awkward silence that shows up when too many people are embarrassed to talk. Andrew broke the long pause, “I’ll see if I can find her tomorrow morning before she leaves. I don’t know when she’ll return or when she’ll depart, but I don’t suspect there will be much of a gap between the two and her sleep, so I suggest you be ready to come to the penthouse around the break of dawn tomorrow. She seems to leave around that time most days, but not every day. It’s very hard to keep her in one place long enough to...” Gene stifled a loud hiccup. Beside him lay the keg, now as dry as the title “Arid Well” would imply. “… discuss business.” Andrew finished. “Any-body up for dessert?” Gene asked, having cleared every plate, bowl, keg, cup, and platter brought to him. Andrew called for Sharon. After a few minutes, she returned to the secluded dining room with three busboys, a pair of dish carts, and a singular dessert menu.

After consuming every confection and pastry the kitchen had to offer, often to the extent that the kitchen could offer, Gene and Jerry set off for their rooms. The floor creaked notably more under Gene’s footfalls than before, having eaten the South End Rivera out of approximately 120lbs of food. Unbeknownst to the two guests, Gene had earned the record of most profitable customer of the year in a single sitting alone. His otherwise-solid core bloated out as if swollen. He swayed down the hallway alongside Jerry. “That cat’s nicee, but he talks a lot. I LIKE this place. Di-did you know… that two THOUSAND pe-people try to get in here in a month?” Gene asked noisily. “In a year, big guy,” Jerry corrected. “That’s wha I said… in a year.” Rushing to avoid another wasted doorknob, Jerry let Gene in to his room. Gene wandered to the bedroom before lazily collapsing on his bed. The frame and box spring did not survive, but the mattress was comfortable enough that Gene either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Jerry tossed one of the extra blankets over the drowsy tiger, before leaving him to sleep.

In the night, Gene found himself in a wet wood. The air filled with the smell of damp flora, and a hint of something tasty ahead. He glided through the forest lightly on his paws. Prowling between the trees, Gene leapt toward the hiding primate. The monkey fled through the trees, flinging himself from branch to vine to branch, Gene following on all fours, speeding along. Gene slid through gaps between trees, barreling under overgrown roots, around twists and turns as he gained on the ape. He felt so light and lithe. Between two thin tree trunks, he could see his prey, sitting as if waiting for him. The monkey stared straight toward him, taunting him. The primate stood up and held his arms between the trees, a mock embrace. The ape’s fingers didn’t reach far enough to even hold both limbs. Gene lept to grab the chimp, but the gap in the trees had gotten too small for the tiger to jump through. How could that be? The monkey stood just out of reach, but something was changing. The trees were getting closer… or was Gene getting bigger? He found himself feeling the trees all around him as they closed in, but the monkey wandered off. Above him in the treetops, a bird cawed. He looked down at himself. It wasn’t the trees closing in, but him, expanding to fill the trees until there was no room left for him to move. The bird’s call grew closer and louder. BREE BREE BREE BREE BREE BREE BREE BREE BRZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ A massive hand swiped at the nightstand, flinging the clock and lamp with enough force to embed them in the drywall. At least the alarm stopped.

Part 4

Gene looked at the alarm clock. Its remains, now indistinguishable from those of the lamp, littered the wall and immediately below. Getting off the shattered bed, he briefly recalled the other beds he’d wrecked after similar nights. He opened the shades to no avail, it was still well before sun-up. He must have tried to set the alarm earlier. Gene got up, finding that he’d taken off most of his clothes overnight. Throwing on some of the tarp-like pajamas he packed, he lumbered to the door, only lightly denting the doorknob before restraining himself. It was so quiet out in the hall. The lights were dim, but still it all seemed easily navigable, even for someone of his stature. He walked through corridor after corridor, trying to remember the way to the cafe he passed earlier. Maybe they’d have some hot chocolate or some tea he could sip while he waited for word from Andrew. His head throbbed. He’d need to ask Jerry how many kegs he took down at dinner. Passing an elevator, he heard a ding as it arrived at whichever floor it was summoned to. “Guess I’m not the only one up late,” Gene thought to himself as he continued. A light voice startled him. “Are you looking for something, sir?” He turned around, meeting a short feline of some sort. Her long, light brown hair was down to her narrow waist and modest hips. “Yeah, the cafe. I don’t suppose you could point me in the right direction?” Gene replied. “I think I could manage,” she retorted with a slight smile. “In fact, I’m heading that way myself. Follow me.” Gene followed her. Looking her over, she was small, even more so than Gene was used to. She only came up to the lower part of his stone-like abs, putting her somewhere right around 5ft. Her clothes were conservative and utilitarian. Khaki cargo pants, a pair of army boots, and a hat hanging from its drawstrings around her neck all tied together by a tasteful red shirt bearing the Arten Farms insignia. Before long, she had lead him to the gently lit cafe, with its sole nighttime keeper. She hovered in the doorway after Gene squeezed through. “If I were you, I’d get some of the vanilla mint tea. It’s herbal, which means no caffeine. Usually puts me right to sleep. If I’m having trouble sleeping, that is,” she offered. “That does sound good right about now,” Gene said, still hanging on to the bit of sleep he got. “Two vanilla mint teas, then?” the avian behind the counter asked. “Not for me, Debbie. I’ve got a hell of a day ahead of me, and the last thing I need is to be falling back asleep, no matter how nice that would be.” “Alright. Do I need to ring him up then?” Debbie asked. “Nah, it’s what, three bucks?” “Two fifty.” “Same thing. Anyways, I have to get going.” She turned back to Gene. “Good luck getting back to sleep. I’ll see you later, Debbie.” The cat walked out of the cafe, and the dove started making Gene’s tea. “That was nice of her, but I think she forgot to pay you,” Gene noted, after he thought the cat was out of earshot. Debbie turned back to Gene looking surprised. “I don’t think she needs to pay for anything around here. You know who that is?” “Not a clue.” “That’s one of the owners, Addie Arten. She takes care of the grounds, and her brother Andrew takes care of the business. They couldn’t be more different, really. Hard to believe they’re related. Real nice girl, though. She usually stops by right after my shift ends and we-” “That was Addie Arten?” Gene interrupted. “Yep, that’s her. Why?” “I’ll be right back,” Gene said, turning around and nearly tripping to get out after her. His shoulder clipped the door frame, leaving a sizable dent. Stepping carefully to avoid shaking the building, he hurried in the direction she had left. A quiet “beep” came from a corridor as he approached. Turning the corner, he saw Addie half-way through a door marked “EMPLOYEES ONLY”, looking back at him. The keycard scanner next to the door beeped, protesting against being held open for more than a few seconds, but it was ignored. “Ms. Arten!” Gene called a little bit too loudly. Addie looked surprised that he suddenly knew who she was. “Ms. Arten, my name is Gene Carnegie. Andrew got in touch with me recently about the bears.” Her eyebrows raised, and her shoulders slumped. Gene looked down at himself, again realizing he’s walking around in pajamas. He saved his growing embarrassment for later. “Oh. Um. Okay? Does that mean you’re the one that’s going to get them to the enclosure?” “As it stands right now, yes.” “Well, I’ve got the sedatives and the syringes for you out in a work shed near the bear’s enclosure. Weren’t there supposed to be two of you?” “My partner—uh, colleague, is still asleep. We were hoping to talk to you about the sedative situation.” “What about it?” “We were wondering if there was some other way of going about this that didn’t involve such, um, direct means.” “No. No tranquilizer rifles. No darts. If you have to put them under, you’re using what we’ve got for them.” “That’s not what I meant. Rather, I was hoping there would be something we could do without involving tranquilizers at all.” “Bating would get us in trouble with the game laws, so no, you can’t do that either. I was hoping Andrew would explain all this to you.” “He did, but I think there’s another option.” “I’m listening.” “What if I just uh, knocked them out?” “And how would you go about doing that?” “Jeez, I didn’t think it was that dark. I mean, look at me. I weigh about twice as much as a bear.” Addie did indeed look at him, before looking away, now sharing some of her own embarrassment. After a moment, she answered “That’s crazy. You’d get mauled.” “I’ve, uh, actually done it before.” “You got KOs on a family of bears in their den? Regardless of how hard that is to believe, what makes you think that, if I’m trying to keep these bears safe, that I’d let some brute go brawl with them?” “It was only two bears. One ran away, and I ended up putting the other in a choke hold. Maybe if we get them alone one at a time… could we try that?” Addie shut the door and leaned against it. “And what happens if one wakes up while we’re relocating it? They need to be sedated.” “How about after it’s out cold, then you can sedate them.” “What’s the problem with you sedating them?” Gene looked down. “Come on, what’s wrong with it? Is it a licensure thing? Insurance? Whatever it is, I’m sure Andrew’s guys looked it over before-” “Needles.” “What?” “I don’t like needles.” Addie looked at the behemoth tiger in amazement and amusement. “You… don’t like needles?” “That’s what I said.” Gene paused. “I’ll do it if I have to, but I’d really rather-” “You don’t like needles?” “Yes. I just said that. What I’m trying to say is-” “You’re offering to go mano a mano with a family of bears, and the NEEDLE is what’s scaring you?” “If you’d let me finish, I-” “Ah, what the hell. When are we going?” “Excuse me?” “Yeah, I’ll tag along and sedate them. I don’t know if I’d trust you to put them under anyway.” “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? I mean, we’re dealing with bears being taken from their den, you might get hurt.” “Is there an echo in here? Anyway, doing this right is really important to me. I guess it makes sense for me to be there. How about this. You go grab your friend and some clothes, and I’ll meet you back at the cafe in an hour. We can talk shop then.” “Thank you, Ms. Arten. It was getting a bit chilly in these,” Gene said, trying to hide his embarrassment underneath aloofness. “Oh, and Gene?” “Yes?” “Call me Addie. ‘Ms. Arten’ sounds so weird.” “Okay, Addie.” “Attaboy. Now go get some clothes on. It’s almost 4:00 AM, sun rises in an hour and a half.” Gene turned and hustled back to the cafe to pick up his tea. When he got back to his room, Jerry was waiting in pajamas of his own. “Where’ve you been?” “I went to that cafe and got some tea.” “Andrew called while you were out. Addie already slipped out for today. He wants us to go check some of the maintenance areas and try to catch up with her there.” “I can do you one better. I ran in to her on the way to the cafe. She’s meeting us back there in an hour.” “I… you… what?” “You heard me, get dressed. She’s coming with us, by the way.” “To get the bears? She does know they’re like, BEARS, right? I can hardly believe I’M going with you, and she wants to go too?” “That’s what she said.” “Shit, okay. I need to go get dressed then.” Jerry walked out. Gene tossed the massive nightwear aside and rushed to his suite’s relatively tiny shower. He had made do with smaller, and so he washed himself as best he could with the tools available, and his own blanket-esque washcloth. Gene was about to knock on Jerry’s door as it opened. Gene lead him to the cafe, much as Addie had done for him earlier. Sitting there at the closest table was Addie, but with somewhat more dirt on her compared to when Gene had first met her. “Nice to see you in something other than your underwear,” she jabbed at Gene. “Hi, I’m Addie,” She introduced herself as she shook Jerry’s hand. “Jerry. Listen, you really shouldn’t be coming with us on this.” “Not you too. I told Gene I’m coming, and that’s what I’m doing,” she firmly countered. “Plus, it sounds like your big friend here really doesn’t like needles... surprising as that may seem.” “And yet he’ll sign up to fight bears. Go wonder,” Jerry said with a nudge. “Down to business,” Addie directed. “We’ve got trail cams set up around where we suspect the bears’ den is. They’re the fancy sort that can text you a picture when something goes by. Based off what we’ve seen from them, the bears seem to be most active around sunrise and sunset, just like the game. It looks like we’ve got somewhere between three and five bears to deal with. I set off one of the trucks we use for maintenance and tossed the sedatives in there. The cameras usually pick them up once or twice a day. I’ll bet it’s about 5 minutes by truck to the site, but the woods can get dense in their territory, and a bear can make better time in there than a pickup, so we’ll have to jump ASAP if one of the cameras picks them up.” Addie checked her watch. “Sun’s up in 50 minutes, so if we don’t get anything this morning, let’s group back up tonight around 5:00 before the sun sets. That way, we’ll be ready to go if we catch them. Once we get a lead, meet me at the grounds keeping garage. Gene knows where it is, it’s the room I was going to this morning.” Gene nodded. She paused to have a sip of her coffee. “Any thoughts, or are you two just going to sit there like statues?” “It sounds like a plan, I guess,” Gene said. “Fine by me.” With that, a light buzzing was heard. Addie yanked a slick cellphone out of one of her many pockets. “That was quick,” Jerry joked. Addie slipped her phone back in to a pocket. “Unless you want the big guy to go suplex a squirrel, I don’t think we’re going anywhere just ye.” So they waited.

Part 5

The call finally came. Addie’s relief was almost palpable. Jerry and Gene followed her to the garage, where a dingy green truck with a custom-built wood platform trailer, and a nearly illegible “Arten Farms Maint. Dept.” decal awaited them. It was readily apparent that Gene was not riding in the cab. Accepting the arrangements, Gene heaved himself in to the bed of the pickup, and away they went. An uneasy silence filled the cab. Addie was the first to try breaking the ice. “How’d you meat him?” “Who, Gene?” “Yeah.” “We grew up on the same block.” “Wow, you go that far back?” “Yeah.” “Was he always… like that? You know, big?” “Nah. Actually, until like, 8th grade, I was taller than him. Funny how things change. What about you? What was it like growing up somewhere like this?” “Andrew and I didn’t exactly grow up here. We spent a ton of time here, don’t get me wrong, but we went to school like everyone else. I’m sure they could have sent us to Clydesdale Collegiate or Northern Preparatory if they had wanted to, but I guess they wanted us to be around real people instead, thank God.” “You sound nothing like Andrew, you know.” “I’m taking that as a compliment. Let’s just say we don’t see eye to eye on some things.” “I know how that goes.” “Don’t we all? He’s all about ‘networking’ and schmoozing and boozing, which is easy to do when you own two top-rated restaurants, but still. I wish he would spend a bit more time on the other 1699 acres of this place. Maybe he’d find some long lost respect for the place that way. I swear the guy hasn’t tried enjoying this place in twenty years. I guess when you’re dealing with moguls and princes, you could get jaded to something simple like watching the sun crest over the treeline. Or hearing a Red-feathered finch’s song before the last light of the day. God knows he wouldn’t have the patience to let a tree grow, let alone take care of them.” “I don’t guess you’ll tell me why you’re so sweet on these bears, will you?” “It’s a long story.” “It can’t be that long.” “Well, Andrew and I spent most of our weekends here as kids. Dad was always off handling some sort of business for the farm, so it was just Andrew, our mum, and me. She was a real old-fashioned woman. Loved the outdoors. She’d go riding horses around the property whenever we weren’t having guests, and she’d come back with baskets of wild berries or fresh herbs, sometimes fish. One day, she stopped bringing it all home. I was probably ten then. I only found out why myself after a few months: she found a bear cub, emaciated and sickly, just lying in the woods. She didn’t think it would make it if she left it alone, so she started giving it things she’d find in the woods. At some point, she took us to see it. The little guy was tiny, but she’d fattened him up to a point that looked healthy enough. Eventually we started calling him Albert. I don’t remember who came up with the name, but it stuck. And so did he. He started following Ma home and hanging around the lodge. He was so gentle and quirky, even though the guests had to stay well away from him, he was a welcome sight by them al for a few years. We declared June 12th his “birthday”, and each year we’d have a little party with him to celebrate. He’d get some cake, and he’d wear this little pointy hat, even though he wasn’t so little anymore. The last time we had had him around the lodge was one of those. I don’t think Andrew really was fond of him, but he was trying to have a nice time,. We were just getting him a slice of cake, Andrew carried it over to him, but he came up way too fast and spooked Albert. He swiped across Andrew’s chest. It was nasty. Cut him down to the bone in a bit. That was the last time I saw Albert.” She paused, looking around for some waypoint. “What happened to him?” “Andrew, or Albert?” “Andrew. And Albert, I guess.” “Well, Andrew needed more than a few stitches before the doc was done with him. As for Albert… they never told me what exactly they did. I suspect it involved a big slug gun. Whatever they did, it did a number on my mum. She didn’t pick wild berries again until I was back from college. That was just a few years before she passed.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” “She was a gentle woman. I can’t imagine what it was like to watch her son get torn open by an animal she’d been caring for that long. We’re here.” “We are? I don’t see any bears.” “The cameras aren’t magic. I know one’s been here, but that’s all I now. Before you get out, pop open the glove box and grab a few of the orange hats. I don’t want anyone getting shot today.” Jerry did as he was told, and donned his cap with one handy for Gene. Addie reached under her seat, pulling out a large box. Inside sat four vials of Clumazotine, her veterinary sedative of choice, and the enormous needles to deploy it. Seeing them, Jerry didn’t blame Gene at all for wanting to avoid these things. “We’ve got enough to put 6 adults out for about half an hour. Any longer and we risk them waking up in the trailer before they’re in the enclosure. That’ll be bad news no matter what happens.” Jerry left the cab as Gene was hopping off the pickup’s bed.

Part 6

“So, what are we looking for?” Jerry asked off the bat. Gene turned and looked at him. “What? You haven’t been following them?” “Following what? I’ve just been following you two this whole time.” Addie pointed to the ground. Jerry struggled to identify a single, large paw print in the dirt. “You guys can actually find those things? I thought that was just a...” “’Just a’ what? Addie asked, unsure if she should be offended or not. “I thought it was like, a predator thing.” “Jerry, she and I ARE both predators,” Gene asserted. “Hello, tiger, lion? Apex top-of-the-food-chain predators? Ring any bells?” Addie reminded to Jerry’s annoyance. “Addie, you’ll think I’m crazy, but I swear, sometimes I forget he’s a predator. Not for a lack of instinct or skill or anything, Gene, but just because I”m around you so much the thought doesn’t really cross my mind anymore. I know it’s stupid. You could tear me limb from limb with one arm and fight off a small army with the other, but most of the time I don’t even register that you’re not just like me. It’s incredible to think that a million years ago, give or take, if the three of us met in this forest, I’d be one of your meals.” A shot rings out ahead of them. Jerry and Addie ducked down to the ground, and Gene searched for the source, undeterred by the danger. A second shot echoed around them. Addie shouted from the ground “STOP SHOOTING!” “Who’s out there? Where are you?” a voice returned. “Arden grounds keeping staff!” Gene heard an urgently retreating rustling from the direction of the shots. Recovering from his squatting position, he bounded in the direction of the hunters. “Gene! Wait!” Jerry called after him. Addie sprang to her paws and chased after the behemoth. By the time Jerry caught up with them, they had confronted the hunters: a pack of three large hyenas. Addie was interrogating them with a zeal they did not appreciate. “Run along, missy, or I’ll see to it you’ll be out of a job by the end of the day.” a Hyena taunted. “Oh, is that so?” Addie rebutted. “You bet your sweet ass it is.” Addie was fuming. “Just who do you think you are, big shot?” “I’m the guy that’s a phone call away from the owner of the place if you don’t piss off.” “Is that right? In that case, let me dial him for you.” Addie whipped out her phone and called Andrew. She turned on speaker phone so all could hear. “Hey Andrew, got a minute? A guest would like to talk to you.” The smug grins drained from the hyenas’ faces. “I’ve got a call with the linen supplier in about ten minutes, but I’ve got a few.” “Nice, they’re on speakerphone.” “Mister Arten, this is Janal Sadanhara. A word of advice; if you value my party’s continuing patronage here, I suggest you reconsider this woman’s employment. She said she was with grounds keeping. She and her colleagues been harassing us during the middle of our hunt.“ The phone was silent for a moment. “Well, Addie. What do you have to say about that?” “I have to say that they’re two hundred yards inside the no-go zone for the bears, and your guys and I heard them taking shots.” “That’s a blatant lie!” “Andrew, can you pull up the GPS on their cart?” “Sure. Give me a second.” The hyenas nervously looked at each other. “Got it. Their cart is a little over 30 yards out from you. Am I still on speaker?” “Yep.” “Mr. Sadanhara, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you and your party return to the lodge at this time. For compliance and liability reasons, we’re unable to permit you to continue your hunt after leaving your designated zone. Our policies are very clear about this. A hunting supervisor will be with you shortly to escort you back to the lodge. Good day.” Andrew hung up. The hyenas were barely holding back fury. The leader took a half step toward Addie. Gene’s low, rumbling growl all but shook the earth, and the hyena backed down, and sulked off.

After they were out of earshot, Jerry asked the obvious: “What the hell was all that about?” “They thought they could bag a bear. It’s not a secret that they’re out here. It figures someone would try to come back with one” “Bad luck for them,” Jerry quipped. Gene pointed to their side. “That’s the way they were shooting.” He marched off as carefully as he could manage. Twenty yards out, he stopped. “They landed at least one hit. There’s fresh blood here.” Addie clenched her paws in to fists. She hopped out to Gene. Looking at the red specks, she seemed slightly relieved. “That’s not much for a bear. I think they just nicked him. It will save us some work, though.” They all followed the drops of blood for five minutes before losing the trail.

Part 7

With the trail lost, Jerry followed Gene and Addie blindly, hoping their instincts would guide them in the right direction. Eventually, Gene recovered a trail of paw prints leading deeper in to the trees. The long silence and his predatory-ineptness made Jerry uncomfortable. The trio paused. Gene’s ears perked up. He pointed in a direction, and they carefully followed. After thirty feet, he raised his arm, halting the group. Stepping as lightly as he could, Jerry snuck off to the side of Gene to see what he was looking at. Ahead of them was a patch of trees, some bushes, a little black bird pecking at the ground… nothing at all that they should be stopping for. “What are we waiting for?” Jerry hoarsely whispered. Gene asked “Can’t you smell it?” “Smell what?” Jerry replied. “Right, predator things. Never mind. It’s fresh meat.” “A lot of it”, Addie chimed in. “Addie, do this place have any other large predators?” “No, it’s mostly small to medium game here. Biggest we have are these guys.” “I guess that means we’re close then?” Jerry chimed in. “If I had to guess, yes.” Gene said, clearly tense. “Addie, I think you should get a syringe ready.” She sat down on a lone tree stump and unpacked her satchel of supplies. She had just finished filling when the patch of bushes next to her rustled. The world slowed to a halt. A paw lashed out, missing Addie by mere inches. Gene lunged toward the bush, catching another blow from the hidden bear straight to his billowing chest. The third swipe was not so lucky for the bear. Gene caught the paw and yank the bear from its hiding spot before overpowering it. Gene had the bear in a chokehold before he could manage a fourth attack. The bear gently collapsed, leaving gene standing behind it, blood dribbling down from the gash across his solid, thick pec. Addie was still shaking. “I think now would be a good time to use that.” “Huh?” she asked. Gene pointed to the syringe in her hand “Oh… right.” She hopped off the stump and carefully injected the Clumazotine in to the bear’s backside. “You’re hurt, Gene” “Yeah, he nicked me.” She rifled through her pack again, this time extracting a first aid kit. Bandages in hand, the lioness gently lifted Gene’s jacket and raised his shirt. Without the clothes in the way, she could see almost every detail of his oversized chest and core. She saw the chiseled abs, the depth of his pecs, and the blood running down one of them. She pressed her hand up around the wound. Gene winced in pain. She continued to probe the muscle, not expecting it to be so soft, but at the same time so firm. And there was so much of it… She snapped out of her stupor and dabbed away the blood. Jerry, watching the two, spoke up. “I told you this was stupid, Gene. Let’s get out of here before you get yourself killed.” “It was just a lucky shot. If he hadn’t gotten us by surprise... I think I’ll be able to keep better distance next time, as long as they don’t sneak up on us like that one.”

Gene’s gravity could be seen between the grimacing. He knew it wasn’t just a lucky shot, and he knew this wasn’t the only scar he was getting that day. “You should see this place’s doctor once we get back. I don’t know if that’ll need stitches or not. Come on, Gene. Let’s go. This is crazy.” Addie pulled out her GPS and marked the spot the bear laid. “We’ll come grab him when the others are accounted for.” Snooping around the area, Addie spotted two sharing a watering hole. Gene managed to grab the two at the same time, from behind. Despite the fear, Addie couldn’t help but feel a sense of amazement watching Gene. Watching him KO a fully grown bear with each arm was nothing short of spectacular, but, there was more to it. She couldn’t pin it down, was it seeing these bears, or was it seeing Gene that made her feel like this? Like...what? Jerry was acting like Gene had stored a touchdown in the Superbowl. For five minutes, he wouldn’t shut up about how he gene actually lifted them off the ground as he choked them out. After administering the sedatives, Addie told Gene to roll up his cavernous sleeves, revealing the biceps twice the size of her head, and enormous corded forearms to match. She ran her hand up and down, ostensibly searching for gouges and gashes, finding none. Still she was amazed by what she felt: the contrast of his soft fur with the warm, packed muscle of obscene size. She felt that feeling again. It wasn’t the bears, it was gene. But what was it? Gene cleared his throat. “Addie, uh, you know you could have just checked my sleeves. They’re not torn up.” She paused and took her paws off his rippling arm. Blushing just the slightest, she rolled his sleeve down. The feeling ached in her head. What WAS this feeling? Was it concern? He was putting himself in so much danger to save these bears from being hurt. Was it attraction? His body did stir… something in her. Was it disgust? He was actually strangling these things she’d fought so hard to protect... but it was for a good cause, right? Andrew would surely have them killed if she didn’t convince him to try it her way. God, she’d feel so bad if something happened to Gene or Jerry because of this. Gene had already gotten cut on that massive, hot, meaty… There was at least SOME attraction, she admitted to herself. “So, that’s three down of what, five, right?” Jerry asked, interrupting the lioness’ daydreaming. “We’ve got three adults, so there are at least four. Or five. It’s hard to tell from the trail camera shots. The most we’ve seen together was three, but some of our guys think some of the photos show different bears, based on height and fur color and stuff like that.” “So how do you know there are four?” Jerry asked, a bit confused. “One’s a cub. We’ve got three adults.” “Are there other watering holes?” Gene asked. “It’s anyone’s guess. I didn’t even know this one was here,” Addie conceded. “There’s a clearing up that hill.” She pointed to a steep incline roughly a football field away. “We used to let the less hunting-inclined guests do bird watching up there. We planted an ass-load of things in the field, from corn, to a special mix of grasses, and berries. If I were a cub, that’s where I’d go to get a snack, seeing as we don’t have any fishable streams on this side of the property.” “It’s worth a shot,” Jerry opined. Gene grunted and stood up. The hike was winding for all involved. Addie, who followed directly behind Gene, could see his legs swell and heave to carry the hulking tiger up the ascent. By the end of it, she could swear his rotund full cheeks stretching the fabric of his pants. The pack arrived at a pleasantly arranged and flowery, if somewhat unkempt field. The field was sprinkled with dozens of colors, and dozens of birds pecking at the ground and foliage. The flocks careened toward the sky at the trio’s rustling approach. Scanning the edge of the plot, Jerry spotted bushes wavering, and a short, round cub nibbling on the berry-bearing branches. He let out a short “psst” and alerted the other two. Gene pushed the brush aside, venturing toward the small bear. Addie rushed to him and grabbed his arm. “Be gentle with him. Please, this little guy might not take the same kind of treatment you gave the others.” “I’ll do what I can. No promises, if he starts going at me, he’ll get what he’s asking for.” Addie stepped back, hardly reassured. Gene made is approach slowly. The cub stopped his mid-morning snack and looked at the approaching giant. To the group’s surprise, the bear approached with equal caution, and a look of curiosity. Now within the cub’s reach, the bear stood up, only rising to half of Gene’s colossal thigh. As if exploring, the cub put its paws on Gene’s mammoth leg and looked at what he could see beneath the protruding pecs. The next object of attention was Gene’s left hand. Grasping it with his own paws, the cub held on to Gene. Gene carefully lifted his arm from his side, bear dangling like a sloth from a branch, swinging himself playfully. Gene turned back to the others. The bear climbed on him like a tree, eventually arriving atop his shoulder, where the bear calmly stayed until he delivered it to the others, whom it greeted with the same playful curiosity as Gene. Addie knelt down to it. It looked straight at her, and she looked straight at it. She raised her hand, and it put its own paw against hers. With the bear focusing on Addie for the moment, she motioned to gene to grab her pack, which she discarded before Gene and the bear had returned. On top of the pack was a ready needle. “One of you needs to slowly grab the needle and put the bear under while he’s distracted. Try to get him in the buttcheek,” she instructed. Gene was closest, and the only one the bear seemed to fully ignore at the moment. Swallowing, he grabbed the needle. In his hand, it looked almost comically small, despite being half a foot long. Gene slowly returned to the bear and its new friend. “See the marks on the side? This little guy can’t be more than 150lbs. He should only get three or four of the marks. Okay, Gene?” Addie coached. “Got it,” he said shakily. The bear perked up when he felt the syringe in his backside. By the time he tried to turn and see it, Gene had already delivered the prescribed dose. The bear wobbled, falling on Addie’s lap before losing consciousness. She stroked the bear’s head. Gene hoisted the bear cub, out cold, to his shoulder and carried it down the hill. The cub was the first to ride to the enclosure, an impressive sanctuary surrounded by tall, sturdy metal fence. Relocating the other three unconscious bears was just as easy. Gene rode in the trailer with them all. Jerry rode in the truck’s cab with Addie. After the last bear was in the enclosure, Jerry piped up. “Guys?” “What, Jerry?” Gene replied gruffly. “I looked over all the ones we got. None of them had been shot anywhere, as far as I could tell. There wasn’t any blood, other than the one that was eating, and I get the feeling that blood wasn’t his.” “Hers, actually. It was female.” Addie corrected. “Whatever. My point still stands. I think there’s one more out there.” “We found four of them within a half mile of each other, I think we’ve got a good shot at finding it there.” They rode as close as they could get to the bears’ former den. “Start looking. I’ll be a minute or two, I need to fill up another needle,” Addie told Gene and Jerry. The pair went off to check the watering hole. In the distance, they heard Addie shutting the door. Then, the shattering of glass, and a scream. The truck’s burglar alarm sounded. Gene practically flew back toward the truck. Jerry, following as fast as he could, making it in time to see Gene wrestling the remaining bear on the ground. He watched, awestruck and terrified. Gene was cut badly in half a dozen places, and Addie was lying still, sprawled out on the ground next to the brawl. The bear’s paws flailed, looking for purchase on the tiger’s broad body. Gene snarled and roared as he and the bear rolled around. After impossibly tense minutes, Gene pressed his sinewy forearm against the bear’s neck until it became limp. With pure fury, he grabbed the syringe resting next to Addie’s lacerated hand. With no hesitation, he plunged the needle in the bear’s neck and flushed the entirety of the syringe’s contents in to it. He effortlessly picked up Addie’s bloodied body and jumped in the truck’s bed. “What the fuck are you waiting for, Jerry? Drive!” Gene shouted. The hare wasted no time. He floored it, navigating back as best he could remember, flattening small trees and bushes, and narrowly dodging the larger ones. Gene tried to tend to Addie’s injuries, but their lack of supplies and his lack of dexterity and training, coupled with the extremely rough ride, made it impossible for him to make any progress beyond roughly bandaging her wounds. Jerry made it back to the paved roads that lead around the campus, and followed the signs to the “Arten Health” facility. Gene practically kicked down the door to carry Addie in. The waiting room, already nearly empty, dropped to a dead silence. Sensing the urgency, a nurse flung open the doors leading to the closest thing they had to an operating room. Gene was quickly tended to by a nurse in the lobby, before the nurse rushed back to the hidden halls of the building. Throughout the entire complex of buildings and outbuildings, on loudspeakers and radios echoed calls for doctors of all different types, nurses, and finally Andrew. The lion arrived before all others, panting like he hadn’t had to in years. Gene and Jerry waited by the front door. Andrew glared at them with barely-hidden contempt. Jerry was the first to explain. “We got four, but the fifth got her by surprise.” “And what were you doing while this was happening?! Taking a nap!?” Andrew shouted at Gene. With unusual boldness, Jerry barked “Cool it. This guy is the only reason you still have a sister, jackass.” Andrew looked coldly at Jerry, then Gene, and strode with haste to the back of the building.

Part 8

The remaining bear was captured, still thoroughly sedated, and relocated to its new home. It was three days before Addie was ready to see Gene or Jerry. In those three days, Andrew’s attitude shifted from harsh, to regretful, finally to accepting. In truth, Addie had been in fine shape to receive visitors after one day, but Andrew’s instructions to the clinic staff were clear. It was not often that Andrew Arten showed up at the clinic, let alone gave them such direct orders. Jerry was the first to visit. Gene waited outside, citing the less-than-excellent size of the private recovery room. “Feeling better?” Jerry asked. He wasn’t sure how Addie would feel about them showing up. “I’m ready to get out of this bed, if that’s what you’re asking. Andrew has some doctor from up north flying in to check me over, and he doesn’t want me to move until he gives me a clean bill of health. I swear, I don’t know why he even has doctors on staff it he doesn’t trust them to do their jobs.” Addie turned to the hare. “What happened back there?” “In the woods?” “Yeah.” “We were looking around the watering hole, and then we heard some noise back from where you were. Screaming, glass breaking, stuff like that. Gene darted back, he reached you before I could. Funny to think I’m supposed to be the fast one, but when that walking piece of meat wants to move, he can really punch it.” “Then what?” “Well, when I made it back to the truck, Gene was putting the bear out. He dumped the whole syringe of collabrozoe-” “Clumazotine,” she corrected. “Whatever. He dumped the whole syringe in to the bear, grabbed you, and we floored it back here. He tried to do first aid. When we got here, they called in a dozen different people. Gene had gotten pretty roughed up by the bear too, so someone patched him up. Then Andrew showed up. He chewed Gene out, but he had more important things to tend to right then. Frankly, I’m surprised he let us stay.” “Well, the man keeps his word. Can’t fault him for that.” “True. Addie… I… you know, you were in pretty rough shape when we got back.” “That’s what I’ve been told.” “I’ve known Gene a long damn time. I’ve never seen him act like he did out there. I’ve seen him get pushed around by groups of guys, and there was… I don’t know. It scared me, Addie. Gene with that look, you in his arms… it was surreal. The kind of thing that makes your heart skip a beat. Something primal. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad as hell he was there. I know I wouldn’t have been able to put up a fight against a fuckin’ bear, but more than that, he just did it. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two from the time I got there, to the time you and he were in the back of the truck and I was high tailing it down whatever road I could find.” “Listen, Jerry. I owe you two my life.” “Don’t thank me. I was scared stiff. At that moment, I was scared of two things: the bear, and what Gene would do to me if I didn’t get in the cab.” “I’m trying to thank you, you jerk,” she jested. “All right, all right! You’re welcome.” “Is Gene out there?” “Yeah. He didn’t want to crowd us in here.” “If he’s still out there, will you send him in here? Whatever part of him will fit, anyway. I need to thank him too.” “Sure, Addie.” “Make sure to come see me before you two check out!” “We will, we will!” Jerry said as he shut the door behind him.

Gene was sitting across from the room, taking up most of a bench. “How’s she doing?” “She’s ready to get out of here, but the Prince of Arden Castle has some fancy-ass doctor coming in to check up on her.” “She’s feeling okay, though?” “She sure sounds like it. Hey, she wants to talk to you.” Jerry gestured to the door. “Squeeze those thick shoulders of yours in there and talk to the girl.” The bench creaked as it was relieved of Gene’s weight. It took some maneuvering, but Gene managed to fit through the doorway without causing too much of a scene. “There he is!” Addie greeted jovially. “Hi, Addie. Jerry told me about the whole thing with Andrew and the doctor...” “Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass is what it is. I’m glad he’s trying to take care of me, but he could stand to try a little less hard, ya know?” “That seems a lot like Andrew to me.” “You’ve got a good sense of the man.” “They’ve been treating you well?” “I own half the damn place, of course they are. I’ve gotten to know a bunch of people, though. Never bothered hanging around here much.” “Gene, I wanted to thank you for what you did. You saved my life.” “I’m sure anyone would have done the same.” She paused. “You beat up a bear,” she reminded incredulously. “Okay, anyone that COULD have, would have.” “You big guys must be a lot braver with all that extra padding, then,” she teased. “It’s not that, Addie. I couldn’t just, like, leave you there. After the number that bear did to you... I’m glad you made it through the ride back.” “Evidently so is your friend.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “Jerry made it out like he was about to shit himself if you looked at him sideways.” “Really?” “Not exactly his words, but you get the gist.” Gene was silent for a few moments. “Addie… I don’t remember it. From the time I heard the glass and the car alarm, it’s just a blur. First thing I really remember is the nurse wrapping my arm. I don’t even remember the stitches on my back, or driving here, or anything.” Addie, too, was silent. “Adrenalin is a hell of a thing,” she quipped. She chuckled a bit. The chuckling confused Gene. “Huh?” “It’s just a little funny that you don’t remember it. Guess I’m glad you couldn’t fit in the cab to drive; poor Jerry’d probably still be out there.” Addie looked down. “I do.” “You do what?” “I do remember it. Parts of it, but still. From the time I felt the claws, to the time I hit the ground, it was pretty damn clear to me that I might not make it out of there. Watching my blood pooling didn’t help, either. My life didn’t flash before my eyes or anything stupid like that. I remember fading in and out for a few minutes between the fight and the ride. It was sorta like a dream, but I could feel something was really wrong. Like a nightmare, you know? You’re just... afraid. Usually there’s no reasoning behind it. I felt it, but at some level I knew what was happening. I knew I was probably going to kick off there in the back of a pickup truck, watching the canopy fly by above us. You had me lying on those tree trunks of yours, trying to wrap me up. Even with all that meat on you, you managed to be gentle.” There was a empty silence in the room. The lioness teared up a bit, sniffled, and continued. “It’s weird to remember being ready to die. But Gene, I was. The last thing I remember before waking up here was ‘He’s soft. He’s warm. I can hear his heartbeat, and feel it through his legs, and whenever you’d lean your arm on me I’d feel it there too. Hell, he even smells nice after fighting bears all day. If this is how I go, I guess I’m okay with that. I doubt I’d find a better place to die.’” Tears were streaming down Addie’s face, but she struggled and kept her composure as best she could. Gene knelt by the hospital bed and held out his hand. Addie took it, not bothering to register the difference between his large paw and her much smaller one. She couldn’t keep it back anymore. Tears gave way to full-blown crying, clutching Gene’s paw. “Gene… thank you. For everything,” she sobbed. “It was so, so stupid of me to try and get someone to catch them like that. And then you came and fucking did it. Bill said the last bear woke up this morning, and they were all playing with the cub and checking out the enclosure.” Gene didn’t care to ask who Bill was. He sat with her for another fifteen minutes while she told him all about how she found the little bear that started the whole endeavor; how he was chasing a bee while she was trying to have a survey done on an adjacent plot for a golf expansion; how she set up the trail cameras and found the others and watched him grow. That was how she found out he had his own cub now. That was when one of the other bears startled a golfing party on that plot. That was when Andrew decided they needed to go. A nurse came in after she finished. “Ms. Arten, it’s time for your noon medication.” The nurse placed the cup of pills on Addie’s bedside table. Addie, having recovered fully from her crying fit, replied.“Amy, I thought we’ve been over this. You can call me Addie. It’s my name as much as Arten is.” “Sorry Ms. Arten.” The nurse gestured back toward the door with her head.

Andrew appeared in the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Addie and Gene realized their hands were still intertwined, but held them tight. “Actually, not as much as usual.” Addie heckled. “Nice to see you too, sis. Dr. Frömmenhaüer is arriving as we speak. Doctors Beckken and Plowman will be briefing him tonight, and he expects to spend all of tomorrow running you through your paces to see exactly how deeply bear cut.” He looked at Gene. For the first time in days, it was entirely without disdain or contempt. “With that, I should let you know that means she won’t be able to receive visitors. After that, the restraints on her time should be minimal. I’m sure Dr. Frömmenhaüer will be prescribing recuperative therapy, but that should only be an hour or two each day. Generous estimates put her fully back on her feet in a little under a month.” Addie sank back in to the inclined bed and very audibly sighed. “Mister Carnegie, I’d like to invite you and your colleague to the private dining room at the Maecroft tonight. On the fourth floor, this time. I want to express my sincere thanks to you for helping us deal with our wildlife management problem, but moreover, for rescuing Addie. I hope you’ll be able to join me at 7:30 this evening.” “That time is fine. Thank you, Andrew.” “I’ll see you then.” He bowed slightly before departing. “Feel better, sis.”

Gene stayed with Addie until it was time for one of her many doctors’ many appointments.

Epilogue

At dinner that night, Andrew extended a first-of-a-kind offer for Arten Farms: a perpetual invitation, free of charge for the two of them. He did not, however, mention that the invitation was Addie’s. Nor did he expand on the private argument that ensued regarding just how much food Gene tended to eat, of which Gene was giving yet another clear demonstration, sans the alcohol. Gene and Jerry happily enjoyed the two-day remainder of their week-long stay, visiting Addie as frequently as her doctors and Andrew would allow, though both gave Gene significantly more leeway with his visiting hours. When the now-optional checkout day arrived, the bellhops helped the hare and the tiger pack. The two, having decided to respect the prior schedule and return to their work, shoved their belongings in to their respective vehicles. Their departure was personally overseen by Andrew and Addie, now permitted to roam the grounds, provided she not exert herself unduly. As parting gifts, the bellhops were instructed to present both with a complimentary and exclusive Arden Special Guest cap, of which only a dozen were made in a year. Gene and Jerry exited the tall, ornate gates, both relieved to notice a strict lack of the guests’ ad hoc guards, but also Quentin, manning the guard booth as he had at their arrival.

As Gene unpacked, he put his Arden hat in the proudest place he could find in their apartment. Jerry had already hatched a scheme to wear it to work when the Executive Vice President of Operations was scheduled for a meeting at their plant next week. Placing the pristine verdant hat with gold outlines on the mantle, a business card fell out. After a slight struggle to remove it from the ground, he read the slip.

Adelaide Arten Owner, Principal Land Manager, Arten Farms

100 Annabelle Ln. Carsington, Baronspeake 99301-1003

Office: 806-555-0107 Ext. 21 Fax: 806-555-0108

On the back, scribbled hastily, was her cell number and a note: “Call me. Maybe Your place next time?”

-loW

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