They positioned their fire directly under the hole in the roof. “It’s a double blessing,” said Arie. “It kept this place aired out while our friend broke down to his essentials, and it makes a fine passive chimney for us.”
“Red,” said Renna. She and Handy had spread a blanket and sat together, legs stretched to the fire, flank against flank.
“Pardon?” said Arie.
“I’ve decided our guy in the truck was called Red,” she said. “You saw that beard. Am I right, Kory?”
“Right,” he said, but he hardly paid any attention to the conversation. He’d been stationed near the fire by Arie, and was currently turning a rough-hewn spit upon which a large duck drizzled its cargo of autumn fat onto the embers in copious, fiery spatters.
“God, that smells like heaven,” said Curran. He was sitting on a metal stool, using his bare feet to massage Talus’s back. “Nice shot, Handy. Seriously. Right in the head.”
“Lucky shot. The flock was huddling up for the night and it was so dark I almost walked right into them.”
Arie hmphed. “Poor aim doesn’t get a shot like that, not even by accident.” She gave Kory a gentle tap on the crown of his head. “You keep apprenticing to Handy on the shot and bow, and one day it’ll be you bringing home the bacon.”
“Bacon?” Kory murmured, eyes on the turning spit.
“Sure. The woods are full of wild pigs. All you need is opportunity and a steady—”
There was a mighty thump from outside, immediately followed by a series of scraping sounds. Before any of them could react, Talus charged the doors, putting herself between the shed’s entrance and the fire. She snarled with a ferocity that made Arie’s spine stiffen. The scratching sounds had stopped, but each time Talus drew a slobbery breath Arie realized she could hear heavy breathing on the other side of the door. Something was running its nose—apparently a very large nose—near the bottom edge of the rickety shed entrance. The big doors rocked slightly.
“Bear,” said Handy. “Smelling dinner.” The crowbar Curran had used earlier was lying nearby. Handy grabbed it and began striking the side of a rusted metal drum he was using for a seat. It made a loud, sonorous racket. “Make some noise,” he told the rest of them.
In seconds, they were all shouting and whooping. Talus started inching closer to the doors. She was still barking, but now she took a slight pause to growl between each volley. In a few seconds, her fur started to lay flat again and her enraged snarling turned into intermittent woofs and growls.
“I think we’re okay now,” said Arie.
Everyone seemed to breathe out at once, a soft group sigh of relief.
“Was it really a bear?” asked Kory.
“Oh yeah,” said Curran. He was standing by Talus now, petting and praising her. “Didn’t you ever get one nosing around at the cabin?”
He shook his head slowly. “Papa hunted a bear once, but I only saw it after it was meat.”
“Here’s the thing to remember,” said Arie. “All that thudding and clawing you heard? Black bears aren’t very good at being subtle. You’re likely to hear them coming, and they’d rather run off than tussle with people.” The boy still had a wild-eyed look to him. “Best mind our supper, there,” she said. “I believe the duck might scorch.”
Kory jerked slightly, like coming awake, and hurried back to the spitted duck. He gave it a half turn and checked. “Nope, it’s okay,” he said, sounding relieved.
“Good job,” said Arie. “Let’s have a peek.”
With the knife from her belt, she carefully pierced the joint where the duck’s thigh attached to its body and squinted to see the color of the juices as they ran. “Almost,” she said. “Five more minutes.” She wiped the knife on the leg of her pants before tucking it at her waist again. “You know, Kory, I thought Renna was a bear the first time I saw her.”
He looked at her sideways and cocked an eyebrow with an expression that said, Lady, who are you trying to kid?
“That’s news to me,” said Renna.
“Oh yes,” said Arie. She told them about that night back at Granny’s house, when Renna had crashed into the rooms of ruin right below where she, Arie, was hidden in the attic. How the noise had made her think, at first, it was a bear.
“I’d had a bear visit before,” she said, “so that’s where my head went. But then I heard her voice down there and knew it was no bear.”
“And that’s how you met,” said Kory.
“No, not quite,” said Arie. “She ran off again. We met the next evening, when Handy brought her back.”
“I met her first,” said Handy.
Kory glanced around at all of them and shook his head. “I’m confused.”
“More story for another time,” said Arie. “Let’s eat that duck.”
Such a meal. It was wonderfully fatty, the skin dark and crisp, and the meat slightly pink and juicy. Everyone’s lips and hands were soon shining, and Talus—who’d already dispatched the duck’s innards—neatly snatched the tidbits tossed her way now and then.
They washed up in water brought from the river, and arranged their beds. The fire burned low as they settled down to sleep, and Arie watched the thin raft of wood smoke still hanging in the joists. It wafted toward the hole in the roof and out into the night. Kory tossed from one side to another.
“That bear won’t be back,” said Arie. “Not with good Talus here. Black bears won’t abide a fearless dog.”
“Okay,” the boy murmured.
“Okay,” said Arie. She looked at Curran. He’d taken first watch, as he often did, and he’d perched on the metal drum with the rifle across his lap. He was using his knife to pare his fingernails. “Curran, sing us off. Will you my friend?”
He did. It was a rollicking little tune, but he sang it low and dulcet.
They drifted off on his voice and it was the last thing they heard until—far into the wee hours—an owl perched in the eaves and asked an owl’s favorite question.
-21-
BEFORE THEY LEFT, Renna poked around the barn and found a padded mover’s blanket. It was moth-eaten and rodent befouled, threadbare and full of holes, but there was ample enough fabric to cover the body of the man from the pickup truck.
Once they were packed, they tramped down to the spot where the truck had bumped to a stop and spilled its cargo. Intent as they were on covering ground and conserving energy, stopping to bury the body was out of the question. But none of them felt right leaving the corpse so unceremoniously splayed on the ground.
The body lay face down, arms askew, neck curled at a terrible angle. One of the man’s feet was still partway up on the truck’s running board. Handy pushed at the withered limbs until the body was lying in a mostly straight line, and Renna unfurled the blanket, squinting away from the cloud of dust it released when she did. She dropped it over the man, looked at it for a moment, and then squatted to tuck the blanket loosely around him. Kory bent to help.
“Thanks, partner,” she said when they’d finished. They looked down at the ragged cigar-shaped bundle.
“I feel bad I made that joke last night,” said Kory.
Curran draped an arm around the boy’s shoulder. “Not to worry,” he said. “This guy’s been gone a long time. He doesn’t know a thing.”