We Are Bear
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E. Adamson
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1,5M
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36
Awakening
TAYLEE
She was aware of her solitude, yet she felt a presence.
Even before she regained consciousness, she sensed it. When her eyes fluttered open, her suspicions were confirmed.
The treetops were lost in the dense darkness.
She lifted her head and it pounded. Her breath came out in short, shallow gasps, as if she were trying to pull air from the very depths of her being.
A quick look downâdespite the throbbing pain at the base of her skullârevealed she was in deeper trouble than she initially thought.
Wearing nothing but her underwear, she should have been freezing. But her skin felt too strange to register the cold.
It was covered in blood.
She searched her memory for a name, a place, any piece of information that could identify her.
Nothing.
But she had escaped from something. Something that was still lurking. Something that wanted her dead.
If only she could remember whatâŠ
She coughed. She half-expected blood to spill from her mouth. Thankfully, it didnât.
The fire in her head had reduced to a smoldering heat. Enough to allow her to stand, slowly, shakily, like a baby learning to walk.
She didnât trust herself to run. But the sounds she was beginning to hear told her she had to.
Howling. Braying.
Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. A twisted version of a nursery rhyme. Something her mother might have sung to her long ago.
Who was her mother?
Who was she?
Another howl, long and persistent.
Wolves.
Right foot, left foot, faster, fasterâ
Taylee.
Her name was Taylee. Taylee Harris.
Right footâ
Taylee Harris. Seventeen years old.
Left footâ
No, eighteen. She turned eighteen on August 31st, just three weeks ago.
Howling.
Adjusting to her new age would take time. But right now, between evading death and remembering who she was, she couldnât afford to think about anything else.
She tripped and fell, cutting her knee on a sharp stone. Against her better judgment, she let out a scream of pain.
The sound cut through the night, standing out against the howling. A small sound. A human sound.
She hated to scream. But she did it often.
She couldnât help being scared of things.
Most things, if she was being honest.
She could feel the blood pooling around her knee. But she had to keep moving.
Now, she was cold. The dried blood made her limbs feel alien, and it couldnât keep the wind out anymore. She limped as fast as she could.
Was the howling fading? Were her ears playing tricks on her?
Probably. She didnât trust her ears. In fact, she trusted her senses less than ever before.
And she was only eighteen.
She could see the headlines, the obituary.
They flashed before her eyes, more painful than any headache.
If she didnât survive, if she died here, her family would never knowâ
Her family.
How many were there?
Three. There were three of them.
Just remembering them eased some of her fear.
Picture them all?
No, that was too much for her aching brain. One at a time, then.
Father. Nathaniel. A chess enthusiast. Sang opera beautifully, even if he had to make up words that sounded Italian.
Of all the things to remember.
Mother. Gretchen. Always helped Taylee with her math homework. Recently took up archery.
Any useful memories? Was that too much to ask?
Right foot, left footâshe was moving faster now.
Maybe fast enough to survive. Not unscathed, but alive.
Sister. Charlotte. Eleven years old. Wise beyond her years. Those eyes. Too knowing. Too sad.
Oh, Charlotte. I miss you.
How could she miss someone she was only just beginning to remember?
Her family were all wolves.
But sheâd never heard any of them howl like this.
Keep running. Donât stop. Donât hesitate. Even for a moment.
If she survived this, she would talk to herself for the rest of her life.
People would think she was crazy.
No one would want her.
No one would even try.
Not that it mattered until she could shift into her wolf form. She had never seen herself as a wolf. And she was growing impatient.
How could she think about that now?
A crunch of twigs behind her.
Panic gripped her.
She spun around. Nothing.
Her eyes were adjusting. Maybe she could trust them after all.
A little.
Still, she didnât recognize this forest. She still had much of her home state to exploreâwhatever state that wasâŠ
Right, left, right, left, run, run, runâ
She coached herself in her motherâs voice. Like a Mother Goose rhyme.
Right, left, right, left, run, run, run. Right, left, right, left, till youâre done.
Washington.
That was it.
Olympia, Washington.
Well, this was not Olympia, Washington.
So where was it?
No howling.
No howling. She strained her pitifully human ears. Nothing.
The pain in her knee was fading, but the pain in her head was returning.
She found herself wishing she could tell the time.
If she knew the time, she could figure out how long until sunrise.
But there were no stars. No moon. And no howling.
The only sounds were her own rustling through the brush, her own ragged breaths, her own pounding heartbeat.
Otherwise, silence.
Suddenly, her left foot caught on a surprisingly large branch, sending her tumbling over it.
Her shin hit the branch, and in the quiet, she heard the dull thud of bone against wood.
She let out a cry, revealing her location.
But in this silence, who could still be looking for her?
It was too soon to think that.
A crunch. A deep crunch, close by. The sound of leaves under a heavy foot.
Almost certainly not a human foot.
Then another. The other foot.
Then again.
And again.
And again.
Taylee was stuck. Her shin throbbed, her foot trapped under a fallen branch. She bit back a curse.
Something had been tailing her.
Something was closing in.
Something was now here.
She tried to push herself up, but her body wouldnât budge. She was stuck. Frozen.
As if the fear hadnât already frozen her solid.
Where was her wolf form when she needed it?
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Now, wolf! Now!
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Fight back! Protect yourself!
She even tried closing her eyes, hoping to will it into existence.
More crunching.
But she was still human.
Crunching and grunting. Shuffling. The rustle of fur.
But it wasnât wolf fur. This creature moved differently than a wolf.
It was built differently.
Tayleeâs mind raced.
Was this a real animal? A genuine, non-shifting creature?
Was this how she was going to die?
A growl.
Oh, shit.
In a panic, she managed to roll onto her back, avoiding a mouthful of dirt.
And thatâs when she saw it.
A bear.
A massive black bear, bigger than anything sheâd ever seen. It towered over her, standing on its hind legs, blocking out the surrounding trees.
Her mouth fell open. She couldnât scream. But she couldnât do anything else either.
All she could do was stare into its eyes. Those gleaming gold eyes that were locked onto her.
A wave of realization hit herâher near-nakedness, her vulnerability, the blood on her skin that wasnât hers. Whose it was, she had no idea.
All these thoughts swirled in her mind as she held the bearâs gaze. Her thoughts were a whirlwind.
The bear, still on its hind legs, took another step closer. Taylee felt herself sink back.
And she braced herself for the end.
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