The Last One Home
Author
Christine Rimmer
Reads
16.6K
Chapters
14
Chapter One
âWe never see the bears, Ian. I think we should.â Abby Haralson gazed up at Ian McNeill with a bright smile on her wide-eyed, lightly freckled face. The kid had been wrapping him around her pinkie finger for nine years nowâever since the age of two, when her mother, Ella, brought her to work for the first time. That day, Abby had climbed into his lap without being invited and then refused to get down.
Heâd been nineteen then, working summers and part-time during the school year while he earned his degree, determined to master every job at Patch&Pebble, the toy company he would someday inherit from the woman who had saved him and claimed him as her son.
On that first day he met toddler Abby, sheâd turned those big brown eyes on him, same as now. Sheâd smiled so sweetlyâand peed on his brand-new suit.
As for the bears, no. Just no. âNot today, Abby.â
âWell, Ian, then when?â She fluttered her eyelashes, her smile turning wistful. No doubt about it, Abby was destined to break a whole bunch of hearts.
âI donât know. One of these days.â He and Abby had their things they did togetherâYankees and Knicks games, in the good seats, down close to the action. He took her to her favorite Disney movies now and then, to see Frozen and The Lion King on Broadway, and he attended her dance recitals. A couple of times a year, on days like today when the weather was right, when he could get away and she didnât have school, they spent an afternoon in Central Park, including a visit to the zoo. Never once in all those years had they gone to see the bears.
And Ian had no intention of going to see them now.
âIan.â Abby pinched up her mouth at him. âItâs like Nike. You need to just do it. Youâll be surprised. Itâs going to be fine. Betty and Veronica are really friendly grizzly bears. We read about them in class. They are so friendly that, for their own safety, Betty had to be removed from Montana and Veronica had to be taken out of Yellowstoneâso Ian, come on. Donât you want to see the friendly bears?â
No, Ian did not.
But there was just something about Abby. She could make him do what she wanted him to do using only her big eyes and that angelic smile. Now, she kept both trained on him expectantly as she waited for him to say yes. He almost said it.
But bears?
Not going to happen.
Ian frankly acknowledged his fear of bearsâeven ones safely locked in fancy outdoor cages. Maybe someday heâd deal with that fear. Not today, though.
âWhat about the seals?â he suggested. âYou love the seals.â
Abby planted her legs apart and braced her fists on her hips, adorably adamant. âBetty and Veronica canât hurt you, Ian. Theyâre in a special bear habitat and they canât get near the people.â
âIâm aware of that.â
âIan.â She pulled out all the stops, folding her arms, sticking out her chin and puffing up her chest. âYou really need to face your fears.â
Bemused by her absolute unwillingness to let it go, he stared down at her as she gave him a bullet-point rundown of a story sheâd read during library time about a Midwestern farmerâs daughter who faced her deepest fear and jumped out of a hayloft.
âHowâd that work out for her?â
Abby wrinkled her freckled nose at him. âOkay, she broke her leg. But it was character building, and thatâs what matters.â
Ian bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning. Abby could be so stern and earnest. âIâm not that afraid of bears,â he lied. âHave you forgotten? Patch is a bear.â Patch was one of the two all-time top-selling toys manufactured by his company.
Abby scoffed. âPatch is a stuffie.â
âAnd stuffed bears are my favorite kind.â
âBut why donât you like real bears?â As she asked the question, her glance shifted to the faded white scar that ran upward diagonally from his left temple, barely skirting his eye, to the center of his forehead. Once sheâd compared it to Harry Potterâs lightning-bolt scar, though Ianâs scar was ragged, uneven and not the least photogenic.
âAbby, you already know why I avoid real bears.â Sheâd known how he got that scar since the age of eight, when sheâd coaxed him into telling her how it happenedâor at least, as much as he remembered of how it happened.
âOh, Ian...â A mournful sigh escaped her. âBetty and Veronica wonât hurt you.â
âBetty and Veronica are bears. Thatâs all I need to knowâand how about the flamingos?â he offered hopefully. âLetâs head over there.â
Abby slowly shook her head. âThere is nothing to worry about. I promise you. Iâll be right there with you, Ian.â And she slipped her hand in his.
That did it. He couldnât deny her. Besides, her reasoning rang true; they were just bears in the zoo. Bears in a special habitat, walled off from the humans. Nice bears. Friendly onesâaccording to Abby, anyway. How bad could it be?
Five minutes later, Ian stood next to Abby at the shatterproof viewing screen above the grizzly habitat and stared down at the two giant bears below.
Surprisingly, nothing happened. He didnât find himself paralyzed with terror. No flashing visions assailed him. He had zero urge to run away screaming.
âSee?â Abby nudged him with her elbow. He could hear the grin in her voice. âYouâre just fine.â
âIt appears so.â At least, for the moment.
The horror might still kick in.
But he watched the bears a little longer, and still it didnât.
He heard himself chuckle. They were enormous, those two bears. And playful. They snuffled and shuffled and slid around in the water, climbing out onto the rocks, rolling in again.
As for Ian, he felt relaxed and amused, not the least panicked. He had to hand it to the kid. Turning to meet her eyes, he said, âYouâre right, Abby. I should have let you drag me here years ago.â
âYes, you should have.â Her smile had turned smug. Abby loved being right.
He shifted his attention back through the viewing screen, smiling at his own fears just as Betty threw back her enormous furry head and let out a roar that showed way too many long, sharp teeth.
It happened right then.
Like a stop-motion movie, the images began. They flashed and vanished in front of his eyes. Strobing and pulsing, they filled his head, each more terrifying than the one before it.
They flipped by faster and faster.
He was thrown back in time, only a boy and scared out of his mind.
Shadows on snow, blood on the white. Angry growls, long, piercing claws reaching for him, sharp teeth coming at him...
His vision zeroed to a tiny circle in the center of an endless nightâno stars, no moonânothing to light the unremitting dark.
As he sank to the ground, from somewhere far away, he could hear Abby screaming. He needed to comfort her, to promise her that it was all in his mind, that everything would be all right.
But he couldnât move. He stared up at a pinprick of blue sky surrounded by darkness.
And everything went black.
