Life Journey: A Werebear's Story: Crumb Trail Part 2 By. Housecubct housecubct@gmail.com
Authors Note: This is largely autobiographical in nature, written as catharsis. Its the readers job to decide where the fiction stops and starts. Special thanks to a Furry Family that I am now a part of. I could not have done this with your help. Sometimes the hardest step is the first one. Thanks Big Brother!!!!!
Fight or Flight
SNAP!—a sound from the trees behind him. Matt instantly reacted, whipping his makeshift staff in front of him and lowering himself into a low defensive posture. Three Bears came out of the tree line toward him at a rapid pace, not running but still quick. His thoughts faltered, "What the heck? How could they get this close without me hearing them, or ... even seeing them for that matter? I'm seriously losing my edge," He had to think fast –he knew things were going to get ugly quick. `The rocks!' Matt knew he had to make it to the rocks if he wanted to survive. He took off at a wide angle toward the rocks, gaining distance away from the Bears; his training was taking over. Increase the distance from the enemy and lessen the chance of a direct hit.
As Matt ran, his mind registered sounds from behind. "They are talking to one another? Freaking hell, Bears that communicate; I'm seriously screwed." He ran, giving it all he had but he could tell that one Bear or, hell, maybe all of the Bears were closing the distance fast. "Plan B? Did I even have a plan B? ... or an A for that matter? I'm so screwed!"
Before he got a chance to turn around to confront them, one hit him with a swipe from its paw; it caught his pack and attempted to throw him to the ground onto his left side. The pack's straps held, but its contents spilled out onto the ground around him. He rolled with the impact, keeping his grip on his staff. Coming out of the roll onto his feet he turned just in time to see the large brown Bear lunge at him. He planted one end of the staff in the ground, and ducked. The staff impacted the Bear, just to the right of its chest on the inside of the its shoulder. To Matt's surprise the staff held and did not break; it was a small token of luck. The Bear's momentum catapulted it over him and into a tumble. Matt snapped erect and turned to face the other two bears who had begun circling him."Bears are not pack-hunters, what is going on? Okay ... stay calm. I got one Bear down, only the smaller white one is between me and the rocks, time for offense."
Matt charged straight at the white Bear, a battle scream roaring from his throat. It took a few steps back looking a little puzzled, swung its head left and right, and then returned Matt's charge. A quick glance over his shoulder told him the other darker colored Bear was almost on him, "Just a few more meters."
He jumped left, right, and left again, then spun with all the force he could muster bringing the staff around in a close ark, as though swinging a baseball bat. He scored a lucky hit square on the Bears nose shattering the staff. As Matt tumbled backwards to a stop both bears collided, getting tangled together.
His lungs were on fire; the thin air was wreaking havoc on his body. He looked up to see the two Bears getting up while the first Bear starting to charge him again. "Damn it! Still not close enough to the rocks to climb, plan C it is," Matt slipped further into survival mode. His mind quickly worked out the angles and the vectors that he could use for his defense or offense. His options were limited ... fight or flight? "Fight!"
Dumping what was left of his pack, Matt took out his knife and the signal flare from his waist pouch. "This will only work once. I don't have a plan D," he spoke aloud, crouching down and digging in with one foot. He charged at the Bear with the loudest scream he could manage. He fired the flare at it when they were within meters of each other. As the Bear turned its head up and away to avoid the flare, he plunged his knife upwards into its neck as hard as he could. His five-inch utility blade would not do much damage to its thick fur and hide but he only needed to slow the big Bear down. As he tumbled away and came up, so did it. Matt caught a heavy paw across his left shoulder, it threw him a few meters to the ground and shredded the sleeve his jacket.
The impact knocked him closer to the rocks, he scrambled to his feet and made a dash for them. As he ran his vision began to blur and tunnel, he felt as the blood from his wound trickled down his arm and onto his hand. Reaching the rock he climbed as best he could but his hands were slick and his feet heavy. He knew that the tunnel vision was from the lack of oxygen in the thin air. He was losing blood and by the looks of the blood smears he was leaving, he was losing it pretty damn fast. He made it to a ledge and pulled himself up into a seated position onto it.
He did not bother to look over the ledge, but he could hear the Bears growling and whining below him. Then, from below his feet came a roar that scared and shook Matt to his core. He closed his eyes and just hugged the rocks. Fear took hold of him; he shivered and coughed uncontrollably, cried and screamed. His fear passed slowly leaving him a mess on the ground; the bears below him had stopped their roaring and silence filled the air. He opened his eyes, looked up at the waxing moon and exhaled deeply.
"Gods, Goddesses, Spirits of the forest, give me vision of clarity and resolve this night," Matt muttered just over a whisper. His vision had started to clear, but the pain and bleeding from his arm had not. First aid time!
He took off his waist pack, clipped it around his neck and removed his jacket. Pain shot up from his arm and shoulder. Nothing felt broken, but fractures and breaks could be deceptive at times. It was a miracle he had managed to keep hold of his knife. He cut off the blood soaked shirtsleeve and surveyed the damage; from what he could see he had a deep gash in the meaty part of his shoulder and several smaller cuts on the front side of his bicep. From below, another roar echoed up the rock face. Aggravated, Matt yelled back. "No, I'm not dead you freaking asshole Bear! I didn't come here to hurt any of you, you freaking assholes! When I finish patching myself up I'm going to go down there and kick all of your furry ASSES!" Then he gave them a roar of his own. The sounds from below stopped.
Taking out his first aid kit, he popped the top on the single-use antiseptic spray. He knew this was going to hurt and it was going to hurt bad, but the risk from not using the spray was too high. His hand trembled as he held up the little aerosol bottle and engaged the spray. His mind washed in colors as the spray hit the open, bleeding wounds. He thanked the Gods for the numbing agent that was included in the spray. However, he still leaned over and vomited the contents of his stomach over the rocks. After he recovered, he opened one of the gauze pads and cleaned around the wound the best he could. The bleeding was slowing from the spray, but it was still pronounced. Next was the quick clot bandages; these came from a trauma kit that he lifted on his last tour before retirement.
"Something told me these would come in handy," he spoke aloud. These quick clot bandages are designed for one-handed use, an ideal application in this situation. They would do the trick and stay in place, but he still secured the bandage with the duct tape he always kept in his kit. He used the cleaning wipes from the kit to clean the smaller wounds on his arms, gut, knees and hands and covered those with Duct-tape as well.
With most of the bleeding stopped and the first aid complete he slid the bloody, shredded jacket back on and surveyed his options. It was almost dark; had it not been for the moonlight it would have been impossible to see. Surveying the rock ledge he sat on, Matt calculated that it was about about four feet wide and ten feet long. It was covered overhead by a small outcrop about five feet up. He had to crouch to walk, but could stretch if needed. If it rained, the outcrop above would provide some shelter. A few sticks and leaves were in the corners and some dried grass and plant life were on each side of him; several dried trees hung over within his reach.
Matt knew he wasn't going to climb any higher or leave the safety of the rocks without some form of defense. He eased towards the edge of his ledge and looked down at the ground. The big brown Bear, a Grizzly, was still below him sitting on its rump, looking up at him as though it was waiting for him. Matt cursed the Bear and sat back. "I won't be your dinner that easy, you asshole."
Matt's mind slipped back into survival mode; he let it happen as it had many times before over the years. He always seemed to find himself involved in intractable tactical situations and he remembered what several instructors had said to him over the years.
`The choice to fight or take flight is a simple choice to make. Living with the consequences of that choice is often much harder than you think. Take time, look at all the possibilities. Examine all the angles, find the best avenue and take it. When you do, commit to it, give it your entire effort, and you will succeed.'
Sitting quietly he racked and stacked the options; running was out of the question. The Bears were faster than he was and could track him at night. They had the natural territory advantage, night vision, and hell, they were Bears; they are the natural Alpha Predators in this area. It curious that none of the town's people had seen these Bears. His defensive options were limited; distance, time, and terrain were all Matt had, unless he could improvise something. The compass and maps were lost somewhere in the scuffle and most of the gear that was in his pack was now scattered on the ground below. He would have to wait till first light to move and make a run down the mountain toward the campsite. He had a general idea where it was and what direction he had come. It would be a descent down the mountain; he would move better and faster on his way down than he had during his ascent. It wouldn't be the first time he had to run for his life; humans were one thing, but Bears were the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Defending himself against a Bear attack was something he was NOT trained for, but he never backed down from a fight or a challenge. This was definitely going to be an adventure.
The situation stood with the terrain and natural advantages going to the Bears. However, Matt was lucky and managed to sneak away. It was odd, the Bear still sat below the ledge as though waiting for Matt to come down; this could not have been normal behavior. The three Bears seemed to be acting in a coordinated effort. If this were true, Matt would have to break that coordination and create an opportunity for action. The larger brown Bear and smaller dark Bear seemed to be the aggressors while the white one acted as an observer. It was either acting as over watch or unskilled in this setting; in any case, that would be something Matt could use.
It was time to dial up all the lessons his dad taught him, everything he had learned in training, and in his travels. He leaned back over the ledge and saw the Bear again, still sitting looking up at him. "Asshole!" he yelled again over the side. He needed some light and warmth. He reached over and grabbed a few small branches, some pieces of kindling and anything else he could find that would burn. On the right side of the ledge he built a small fire. On the other side, he found some larger, thicker branches; he shredded his already ripped up shirtsleeve from earlier to fashion three torches and set them aside. Then, he unearthed several stones from the rock wall behind him. Searching his pockets he found a few lengths of parachute cord, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, rescue sugar tabs, a power bar, a plastic wrapper from a sandwich he had several weeks ago, and a small spool of fish line. Not much with these odds but it would have to do; Matt settled down to work.
He took the rocks he had found and chipped at one until it became a rough square shape; he also cut branches from the trees above and using the parachute cord he bound the branches together, lodging the square stone at the top. He secured it all down with the parachute cord and ta-da! Now he had a club. He didn't want to kill any of them, just get away. His defensive weapons were now plus one. He took several rescue tabs and crushed them in the hand sanitizer. "Look Mom, napalm," he chuckled and worked it back into the bottle and placed it in his outside coat pocket. This could be used as a sticky fire type weapon. The sanitizer would catch fast and the sugar would crystallize and stick to whatever it was on. Sitting back Matt put more branches into the fire, and took the time to rest his body and mind. The adrenaline from earlier had passed and his body was insisting that now was the time for rest. He took out the power bar, broke off a piece and chewed it slowly. It was nasty and had been in that pocket for a long time, but it was nourishment. Then he popped several rescue tabs to keep his sugar up. With all the blood that he had lost in the last exchange, the higher sugar levels would help him stay focused, if only for a short time. It would also help clear his head; the release of insulin in the body was a natural anti-inflammatory that would help with the pain. Looking up at the moon again, Matt made the decision to move; to commit to his course of action, to take whatever outcome would be dealt him. He would move with purpose and clarity.
Leaning over the ledge again, he saw that big brown Bear just looking up at him and licking its lips. "Asshole," Matt cursed again. Looking to his right, he noticed that the ledge he was a lead up to a gentle climb to the top of the outcrop. Either the other Bears were waiting for him up top, or they were in the woods waiting; either way it was time to speak his mind before he moved.
Gathering his things, Matt stood on the edge of the ledge, looking down at the big brown Bear below him. He gathered his nerve, cleared his voice and spoke to the Bear below, "I came to find you and your kind. I followed the crumb trail in the stories; I followed the trail here, to this place. I destroyed my life to find the truth. So, when I arrive, this is how you greet me; your kind tries to kill me. You assholes! I'm not looking to expose you. I want to join you! I have searched my entire life for something, for anything to fill the void in my heart. I have tried to find a people and a group to call my own. I have a partner that I love dearly, I could not bear to lose him, but I put everything I have on the line to find you. I have to find the end of the trail. You know ... I'm out of place with my own blood family. I traveled the world searching for that closeness, the sense of family that I found in those stories. I put the clues together and now I'm here ... on this ledge. I'm about to fight for my life and prove that I'm worthy. If this is a test let me tell you, I'm so going to kick your furry asses!" Matt stopped, took a step back and realized the other two Bears were just to the left of the larger Bear, just at the edge of his sight. "Good, stay there," Matt growled, his mind lapsed into fight mode.
Matt gathered the last of his things; he stowed the club in his waist strap, and put two of the torches in the rear pouch of the coat. Lighting the third, he stood up, turned, and kicked the fire down toward the big Bear. "Let's go asshole, come and get me," he yelled and started climbing.
From below, a mighty roar echoed up the rock face. Matt climbed with everything he had. He reached the top, and eased himself up slowly. Not seeing any Bears, he quickly got to his feet and made his way in the direction of safety. As he strode across the top of the outcrop, he found a picnic table. He walked over to it and surveyed the area the best he could. Distracted, his mind locked in a few more of the details. The table had scratches in it, deep ones. It was sturdily built to withstand and support a massive amount of weight. The grass was grown up, so it had not been used in some time. A sound snapped him back to his surroundings.
The sound had come from behind him. Turning torch in hand ... the glint of wild eyes caught his own. Damn they were fast. The large brown Bear walked into the torchlight and stopped. To its left the smaller white Bear and dark colored Bear emerged. Matt edged his way backward and bumped into a fire ring. He quickly glanced down into it; it was loaded with logs and dried wood. Taking the second torch, he lit it and then laid it inside the fire ring. The wood must have been totally dry since the fire took off quickly and further illuminated the area. As the area lit from the light of the growing fire; he could better see the Bears. The brown Bear was massive. The other two were smaller, but still formidable. Matt swallowed hard, taking in the situation and working out the possible angles for him to escape.
He eased back behind the fire ring as the three Bears made their very slow approach. They spread out to a loose line, the big brown Bear in the lead, the smaller white Bear in the center and the dark Bear on the far left.
`Standard fire-team pattern, what the hell was going on?' From behind him he heard a sound and spun around on his toes. A black Bear was standing on its hind legs almost on top of him; for the second time that day, a Bear had got-the-drop on him.
"Crap," he muttered as it raised a paw high above him.
`Oh no you don't, I'm not that easy to kill. You may have numbers but I still have some tricks.' He dropped backward and rolled over as the Bear swiped at him. He lunged forward with the torch, the black Bear, now back on all fours, turned its head to avoid the fire. He swung forward his other hand with the back of the stone club. The weapon smashed into the Bear, just behind its right ear. The impact stunned and dropped the Bear to the ground where it moaned and pawed at its head.
Matt wheeled around the fire pit as all three Bears started to advance toward him.
With the fire in the ring burning brightly, Matt ditched the torch and took out his blade. It was time for some offense; he charged at the big brown Bear knife in hand ready to strike. Matt had studied Bear combat tactics and movements while he was gathering up the breadcrumbs from the stories. From his study he learned that a running Bear had to stop and push off with its front feet in order stand upright. They could swipe with their front paws while on all fours, but only as high as their head. He needed to even the odds and separate the Bears from each other so he could fight with better odds and break up their coordinated effort.
As the Bear ran toward him, Matt ran for the picnic table. As the two met, he took a leap off the table and over the advancing Bear. The big brown Bear collided with the table and took it over toward the fire with it. As Matt landed, he could hear growls and grunts from the brown Bear as it tangled itself in the upturned table.
The dark one charged forward next, but Matt kept the ledge on his right and let the Bear close the distance. As it closed Matt tried to jump over the smaller Bear, but it moved faster than him and smacked him out of the air. He hit the ground hard, but swung his arm around with the stone club and caught the Bear at the elbow of its forepaw. It yelped in pain and crumbled into a heap on the ground. Scrambling to his feet Matt grunted in pain, and looked down to see the bottom of his coat shredded at his left thigh and hip with some blood mixed in. His waist pack was missing along with the last torch, this was not going well.
He struggled to stay on his feet, turning just in time to see the big Bear charging. He kept the ledge at his back and with his club and knife ready, he screamed and charged at the advancing Bear. He only made it a few meters before they met. He attempted to slide under the massive Bear and brought the club down as he slid, hitting the Bear in the muzzle. He sunk the knife into its neck. This stunned the Bear and it crumbled and tumbled on top of and then over Matt. As the Bear went over, its rear paw and claws came down and into Matt's chest, shredding his jacket, clothes, and skin. Matt screamed as he was stomped into the ground. The world blurred...
Struggling to get up; Matt could see the shreds of his jacket and the blood coming from them. His vision was blurry and his right arm was not working, instead it just hung by his side, twitching. He still had the club in his left hand and looked around, gasping for air. The Bears were circling, grunting at him. The white one stopped and started walking toward him. Growling and snapping at the others as it did so. Matt's eyes met the eyes of the white Bear. "... Kermode," Matt whispered to the white Bear. The Bear seemed to glow in the moonlight and light from the fire.
Matt had given it everything he could muster, he brought all his energy to the table; he had used all his skills to survive, but the outcome was really never in question, it was written before the first scent of pine and leather wafted by Matt's nose. This was not a fair fight; four large Bears against one loosely armed human. As skilled as Matt was bears would always be different than humans. His body was just too weak to match the Bears in a one-on-one fight. He doubted if he had been armed that it would have mattered the way they came after him. Whatever the Bear's intentions, Matt had nothing left.
As he stood watching the white Bear approach, the shivers started. He knew it was the blood leaving his body and the exertion, he knew he wouldn't be conscious much longer. He could see his breath in the air, coming in rasps. Mustering the last of his strength, he stood as straight as he could and spoke to the white Bear. "I meant you no harm by coming here. I came to join you ... not harm you," his voice faded as he dropped the club, dropped to his knees, and then to the ground. The world went black. He could hear sounds of the Bears around him, grunts and growls, roars and barks. He was being sniffed, moved and then ... nothing.
Please feel free to contact me at housecubct@gmail.com.