So… if they made no more noise than some mice, maybe it wouldn’t notice them. She edged back to the others, and very quietly explained what they needed to do. Boots off. Sock feet only. Single file. If the bear moved, freeze: hold still.
Ky set off in the lead, not hurrying. Underfoot, the rock’s cold penetrated her socks almost at once. She couldn’t hear the ones behind her, only the beat of her own pulse. As she came even with the bear, she could see it a little better in the dim light. It wasn’t black but brown; the hairs backlit by the cave entrance seemed frost-tipped. The bear stirred; Ky froze. She dared not turn her head to look. It grunted, sighed, and settled down once more. Another meter. Another. By the time she reached the mouth of the cave, her feet felt like blocks of ice, but the bear hadn’t roused. She stopped and glanced back.
Her little troop was moving as carefully as she could have hoped, faces taut with fear, but coming on steadily. She looked outside. The cave opened onto a ledge, with a steep drop-off; she could not tell how far down without exposing herself to anyone on the opposite slope. That slope rose higher than the cave, taking up most of her field of view, great blocks of gray rock streaked with snow glittering in the sunlight. She could not see the sky, for the overhang of the cave entrance, but she could tell that their own slope was shadowed. She could hope that anyone watching from there would be blinded by the sun in their eyes, unable to see into the cave mouth. She could see no movement.
When the others came up behind her, tapping her shoulder to indicate they had all made it past the sleeping bear, she spoke softly. “I don’t see any movement, but we can’t be sure. I’m going out to look—”
Sergeant Chok held up one finger.
“Yes?”
“I’ve had both scout and mountain training. Let me.”
Ky nodded. “Fine. We need a hiding place—without a bear in it.”
He grinned at her, put his boots on, and eased past her, dropping to hands and knees. The rest leaned against the cave wall as close as they could get to the cave entrance. Time crawled past. Ky put her boots back on; the others did the same. The bear made no noise behind them. Finally Chok returned, upright this time, and signaled. Ky led the others out into sharp-smelling cold air. The ledge continued, slanting down and angling slightly to the right. The overhang disappeared; far above the sky showed clear blue with a few streaks of cloud. Beside them layers of rock plunged toward the ledge. Erosion had made these into steps of various heights, mostly inconvenient. All around was the musical tinkle of melting ice and water dripping and trickling away over rock.
They came to the hiding place Chok had found—a narrow cleft between rock layers, barely big enough for all of them. They edged into it one by one. It was cold, dark, dripping, and claustrophobic. Worst, from Ky’s point of view, was the lack of an alternate exit. And the obviousness. They were still too close to the exit, in the most obvious hiding place.
The forest below them gave better cover if they could get to it. Forest on their slope and the one across from them, with a snow-covered spoon-shaped space between. “We need to get down there,” Ky said. Heads nodded. Once more they came out into daylight and started downslope.
They had descended almost to the trees when they heard noise from behind and above: gunfire, a roar, screams. Everyone flattened against the wall. Ky could not see the cave entrance itself, but could see the wider ledge in front of it, then a small shape, flying through the air. One of the cubs, Ky realized, as it squealed frantically, pawing the air before it hit the ground and bounced, tumbled, and finally the squalling ceased. Then the bear—so huge, even at that distance, her growling roar echoing off the opposite slope, her forelegs sweeping one human form after another out into the air, the rag-doll corpses trailing blood, the weapons they’d held falling separately, still firing. The bear dragged herself forward as more gunfire ripped into her, as smoke and light and louder noise burst from the cave. Someone had fired a rocket grenade at her.
“They didn’t—” Cosper said. He covered his ears as did the others. A spray of blood, and the bear overbalanced, falling end-over-end. Rocks skittered down the slope. A stream of smoke wavered across the gap to the opposing slope and ended in an explosion that echoed back and forth. Ky looked back up at the cave. A group of humans—tiny and hard to see—rushed from the cave. Cosper said, “That was stupid—that rock could—” when a loud crack, like a close strike of lightning, silenced him.
Above the ledge, the overhanging slab leaned slowly away from the mountain. With ponderous grace it rotated until it came down on the ledge with a shock they could feel, breaking loose the front of the ledge. Overhang and ledge both tumbled down the slope, followed by an avalanche of smaller boulders.
“Move!” Ky said. “Now!”
They hurried as best they could, as the noise grew behind them: rocks falling, sliding. Were they far enough away? Ky risked another glance back and saw a growing scar above what had been the cave. Finally the noise lessened, but they kept on to the shelter of the first trees. A cloud of dust hung above the avalanche scar.
“That bear—she’d have killed us all,” Betange said in a hushed voice.
“She saved us all,” Ky said.
They had just made it into the first sparse line of trees when Ky heard the unmistakable whine of aircraft. She didn’t have to tell anyone to get down; they were all flattened into the snow before the craft came in sight. From their position, she could now see along the mountainside. A standard tensquad VTOL pod with Slotter Key AirDefense markings flew over their hiding spot, settling vertically into the clearing.
“Our ride home?” Gossin asked.
“Wait,” Ky said. The canopy popped on one side and three figures climbed out. She thumbed the viewer controls and zoomed in. They wore unfamiliar uniforms; the Black Torch logo showed clearly. They looked at the body they’d landed near, then up the slope at the scar and the cloud of dust still visible. Another rock broke loose, rattling down the slope. Ky couldn’t see, but could imagine, what they saw from their position. A dead bear, dead men, a rockfall. Would they fly away or investigate more? If they chose to investigate…
“It would be really handy to have that flier,” Ky said softly to Chok. “We have a good position.”
“Are they all out?”
“No, but I’m betting they will be.”
Sure enough, another clambered out, and then another, until ten of them stood in a pattern that minimized the view of someone from above, in the cave. Then they started up the narrow cleft, directly toward Ky and the others.
“If we’re really lucky, they won’t get a single shot off,” Kurin said.
“Wait.” They had numerical advantage, eighteen to ten, height advantage, and the mercs were acting as if they were out for a walk in the park. But they carried heavier weapons. Ky passed the word down her line. When the mercs reached the scraggly conifer she’d chosen, Ky’s group fired as one. Six of them dropped at once, clean kills; the others dove for the snow. Ky’s troop won the brief firefight.
“Let’s go get our ride out,” Ky said. Surely someone in her group could fly it.
They were almost to the flier when she heard another coming, fast and low. “Into the trees!” Without hesitation, her people scrambled into cover.