Hope And Undead Elvis Part 16

"I'm fine. Sorry, I got distracted by my own thoughts." Hope shrugged off Rae's hand and dug her paddle into the water once more.

Splash.

Creak.

Rest.

Whoosh.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Hope and the Bear They paddled.

The day seemed to wear on forever. Hope's arms moved like she was an automaton. The fog of exhaustion and hunger had settled upon her. She glanced back at Rae every so often. The young woman appeared to be paddling in her sleep; her head was bowed to her chest and her breath came slow and heavy. Hope couldn't blame her. She felt like she could sleep for a day and a half. She decided they'd better head to the bank and get some rest. Maybe she could catch some more fish to go with their last packages of cheese crackers. Loaves and fishes, she thought with wry amus.e.m.e.nt.

All of a sudden she was wide awake, heart hammering in her throat, and she didn't know why. She hadn't heard anything. She hadn't seen anything. Or had she? Birds still sang in the trees beside the river. She didn't see any of the dark ones that brought bad portents.

Then she spotted it: a dark shadow moving through the trees along the bank, pacing their boat. She froze, and then set down her paddle and drew the pistol. The shape crossed into a small clearing and Hope saw it was a huge black bear, almost the size of a small car. Her apprehension evaporated as she realized it wasn't someone from the Righteous Flame.

Then she grew troubled. Was the bear stalking and hunting them? It was moving upstream at about the same pace as the boat. Had it even noticed them? Hope shivered. It had never occurred to her that after the world ended, there might be predators that didn't walk on two legs. She wondered if bears swam. It seemed to her she must have seen a swimming bear somewhere before.

She put away the gun. She doubted a bullet would do much more than p.i.s.s off something as big as a bear, and she didn't have the extra ammunition anyway. How long had it been following them?

"Hope? What's wrong?" Rae reached forward, seeking the comfort of physical contact.

Hope clasped her hand and said, "It's a bear." She'd realized that much of the time Rae didn't need to hear Hope's words as much as she needed to be rea.s.sured that Hope was still there.

Rae squeezed Hope's hand. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be just fine. I'm so tired, Hope. Can we stop soon?"

Hope squeezed back. She was tired too, but couldn't decide what to do. Did she dare camp on the opposite bank as the bear, to risk it crossing over in the night or the chance that the Righteous Flame might catch up to them? Or should she pick the same side as the bear and hope that it wasn't hungry enough to come after them? Such a choice, she reflected. The devil you do know or the devil you don't. The lady and the tiger. Hope's world had always been full of either-or decisions, and it was rare that she'd found either choice appealing. Some things never changed, even in the face of the world's end.

She decided to risk the bear. If it came after them, they could always try to escape downriver. And if it didn't bother them, maybe it would scare off any other potential predators.

As the sun dropped low over the trees on the far bank, Hope steered the boat up to the near side. She and Rae hopped out and pushed the boat well up onto the gravel where it shouldn't slide back into the water. Hope kept her eyes on the bear as she and Rae settled in to rest. They huddled together and shared the last of the crackers. Hope didn't have enough energy to try fishing again. Rae fell asleep the moment she finished her last cracker. Their spa.r.s.e dinner and promise of far less for breakfast worried Hope. She didn't know how she was going to feed herself, much less Rae.

The bear seemed to have lost interest in the two women. It stood on its hind legs and tore at a broken, dead tree trunk with its forepaws. Hope wondered what it was after, for it seemed to have intense interest in what it had found. Whatever it was, she thought, it had engrossed the bear's full attention. Hope put her arms around Rae and fell asleep to the sound of splintering wood.

Hot breath on the back of her hand woke Hope from her sound sleep. She opened her eyes and froze in terror. The bear was hunched down beside the two women, sniffing at Hope's hand in the darkness. In the bright moonlight, Hope could see the remains of crushed bees stuck around the bear's snout. It must have found a hive. She shivered as the bear bent its nose to her wrist and inhaled. Its moist, hot breath sent cold chills down her back and made her a.s.s muscles twitch. Then it licked her, causing her to emit an involuntary squeak. Its tongue felt like a dog's.

"Go away," whispered Hope. "Please." Her baby fluttered through her belly, perhaps sensing her distress.

The bear straightened up and loped away. It must have satisfied its curiosity about the two women. Maybe it wasn't hungry after its meal of honey and bees. Hope couldn't help shaking as it walked away, heavy paws thudding on the earth like mallets. Rae shifted in her arms and moaned. Hope stroked her hair until the young woman's sleep fears subsided. In the process, she discovered she'd put aside her own terror.

The bear no longer seemed like a horrible predator, ready to kill and eat them. It had accepted them into its world, and so Hope accepted it into hers. She'd had unusual companions on her journey so far; why not a bear? As long as they were traveling in the same direction, she'd be happy to have it come along. She wondered what kind of business the bear had northward. Hunting? Mating? A post-world's-end congregation of bears it was attending? It didn't matter. Hope smiled into Rae's hair and closed her eyes into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

Morning came, and the bear was gone when Hope awakened. Rae wasn't snuggled next to her, and at first Hope felt panic gnawing at her, but it released its hold when she spotted the young woman up the riverbank a ways, heading back toward her.

Despite her apparent blindness, Rae didn't seem to have much difficulty picking her path back to Hope. She clutched something wrapped in her t-shirt in both hands. Hope went to meet her friend before she stumbled and fell.

"Hope?" asked Rae as Hope took gentle hold of her arm. Hope squeezed it and Rae smiled. "I woke up early and the air smelled so good I had to go look for it. So I followed my nose and look what I found!" She unwrapped the t-shirt to reveal a ma.s.s of large leaves wrapped around several smaller parcels. "Open one."

Hope raised one up to her nose and sniffed. It smelled sweet and tangy, but not so strong that she could have caught the scent even a few feet away. Inside the leaves, she found a waxy yellow lattice filled with sticky sweet goodness. "Honey?"

Rae unwrapped another comb and popped it into her mouth. Her sightless eyes closed in pure pleasure as she chewed. "It's wonderful. Some animal had torn open a tree to get to it and the bees all left. I found these combs at the bottom. Take them, and eat, Hope."

Hope took one and a sweetness she'd never known before exploded in her mouth. Her salivary glands clenched but she welcomed the pain even as the honey soothed it away.

Energy rushed into Hope's limbs and she felt like she could row another thousand miles. She found it soothing to chew on the beeswax, even after the honey was gone. The mild floral sweetness reminded her of days gone by, chewing gum in school on a Spring day, twisting locks of hair in her fingers and thinking idle thoughts of boys. She knew she'd be hungry for something more substantial soon enough, but for the moment, she didn't want to waste the honey's fueling power.

They pushed the boat back out into the river once again and began paddling upstream. For a couple hours, Hope saw no sign of the bear. Right when she was ready for a break, she spotted it, loping along through the trees and pacing them.

"Fine," she said aloud. "I'm not afraid of you." She steered the boat to the bank and she and Rae dragged it well clear of the water.

Rae stretched and yawned. "I'm so sore," she said. "But I feel good. Alive."

"I'm sore too," said Hope, forgetting for the moment that Rae couldn't hear her. "And hungry."

"Maybe you can catch another fish." Rae's voice sounded dreamy, as if she were a hundred miles away instead of right beside Hope. "I think I smell raspberries. Would you like me to go pick some?"

Hope sniffed the air, but couldn't smell anything except the cattails along the banks and a pervasive tang of rotten leaves. She would have loved some fresh fruit, and her stomach twisted as her baby agreed with her, but she was afraid to let Rae wander off and get eaten by a bear. Just because Hope had decided she was no longer going to be afraid of it didn't mean it wasn't still dangerous. "Rae, can you hear me?" she called right into the young woman's ear.

"Yes, Hope."

"There's a bear following us. I don't want you to go off by yourself. Let me catch some fish first and then we'll go hunt your berries."

"All right." Rae sat down on the river bank and let her fingertips touch the water's surface, as if she were reading the language of the currents.

Hope waded out into the shallows and summoned up the strength and patience she'd used before to retrieve some fish. The ones in this part of the river were much smaller and quicker than their cousins downstream. After what felt like an hour of crouching in the water, Hope had nothing to show for her strength and patience except a back that felt like it was made from a shattered gla.s.s column and a gnawing emptiness inside.

A loud splashing further upstream made her look up. The bear had waded out into the stream and seemed to be frolicking in the water, until it dipped its head and came up with a fish as big as Hope's arm. She gasped in wonder as the bear marched back to the sh.o.r.e with its prize and huddled by the bank to eat. Something brushed her leg and she realized several larger fish were hurrying past, heading downstream. Perhaps they'd been frightened by the bear. Regardless, it proved a simple exercise for Hope to dart a hand into the water and come up with a fish of her own. It wasn't as spectacular as the one the bear caught, but at least it meant she and Rae would eat well once again. Hope longed for a stove, hot plate, or even a flat rock and some coals. She was so tired of cold, raw food. Then she remembered the Righteous Flame and shivered. Maybe she'd tolerate the cold and raw a bit longer before thinking about fire again, even just for cooking.

"Fish again?" Rae smiled and wrinkled her nose at the smell. "I found some raspberries nearby. I picked them. I hope you don't mind. They smelled so good. I thought if the bear wanted to eat me, then at least the bear would be full." She unwrapped a piece of cloth she'd torn from her ragged habit to show a double handful of huge red raspberries, so plump with juice that when Hope popped one in her mouth, it was like biting into a sweet, flavorful water balloon.

"I don't know," said Hope, keeping her eyes on the bear. "It's definitely following us, but it hasn't come closer after that one night. I wish I knew what it meant."

"Is the bear still here?" asked Rae. "I wish I could see it. I love bears. They're such majestic animals. Is this one protecting us, do you think?"

Hope glanced at Rae and then back toward the bear, which had sprawled on its back to let the sunshine warm its belly. Was it watching over them? Hope imagined that other predators, either of the two-legged or four-legged variety might think twice about approaching too close to a bear.

With a gasp of realization, it occurred to her that the bear might be somehow related to Undead Elvis. He'd been her protector and companion, but had done so in such a way as to let her make the decisions and to actually do things. He'd been like an escort. Was this bear fulfilling the same function? Perhaps the world was looking out for her in its own way, like a functioning antivirus program on a broken hard drive. She hoped that was the case, and that the bear would sooner or later lead to her reconnecting with Undead Elvis.

She missed him terribly.

Like the bear further up the bank, the two women dined on a dinner of fresh fish with fresh berries for dessert. Then, with full bellies and leaden exhaustion leaching from all their pores, they huddled together and fell asleep beside their boat.

A great commotion awakened Hope in the brightness of the full Moon. She heard animals screaming and roaring. The noise seemed to come from all around her and she didn't know which way to run. A huge black shadow crashed out of the trees nearby, beset by several gray blurs. Hope couldn't do anything but watch and hold Rae tighter. The bear, she realized, had come under attack by a pack of wolves. It battled them with swipes of its great paws and slashing teeth while the wolves tried to hamstring it and tear out its throat. A heavy cuff sent one wolf flying into the river; it didn't return to the bank. Another wolf met its fate with the bear's jaws locked around its throat. The bear shook the wolf like a dog playing with a rag toy and then flung it away. The other wolves cut their losses and fled.

The bear sank down beside the river bank, panting like the bellows of a blacksmith. Hope wondered if it was hurt and if so, how badly. She knew wounded animals were very dangerous. On the other hand, it had fought a pack of wolves which might have killed her and Rae if the bear hadn't been around, so Hope decided to count it as a blessing. She didn't pray, such a concept still being foreign to her, but as she fell back asleep to the soothing rumble of the beast's heavy breathing, she wished it good fortune and thanked it for looking out for her and her friend.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Hope and Nur The bear died overnight.

When Hope awakened in the morning, a trail of blood and ropy gray strands she feared were intestines led from the riverbank into the trees. Flies buzzed thick and joyful around the feast, and a few small birds either pecked at the gruesome entrails or snapped at the flies. Hope saw a hulking shadow under the forest canopy nearby, black fur matted with blood from the vicious slashes of the wolves. She heard no sounds of breath, only the incessant insectile buzz. She swallowed the bile that threatened to leap from her throat and crept up to the animal.

The bear had died with its face twisted into a snarl, claws splayed, as if it had fought death with every last inch of its body. Its belly had been laid waste and was a sticky mess of ruined organs and sharp-scented fluids.

Hope cried for the bear. Whether or not it had intended to defend her and Rae, it had given its life in their service and for that she was grateful.

"Hope?" Rae's panicked cry made Hope leave the bear's side and hurry back to the young woman. "I smelled death." Rae whimpered and clutched at Hope. Her hands reached up to touch Hope's face. "I was afraid it was you."

"I'm fine," said Hope. "But we should get going."

"We should leave this place." Rae turned her sightless head from side to side as if she were looking around.

They pushed the boat back into the river and started paddling upstream.

The baby kicked at Hope to remind her neither of them had eaten. "We will soon," she muttered. "Maybe something besides raw fish. I'm so tired of raw fish."

Whether or not her words were the culprit, the baby settled himself down and left Hope to paddle in silence. Fleeting gray shadows moved in the corners of her vision along the river bank, but whenever she turned her head to look, they vanished into the trees. She shivered, for she suspected the wolf pack that had slain the bear was now stalking her and Rae, and she didn't think the wolves would be content to leave them alone as the bear had.

As the hours pa.s.sed, and Hope's energy reserves began to flag, a line that had stretched across the river resolved itself into a bridge. No crumbling span across an endless chasm was this; instead it was a solid, two-lane paved construct of concrete and steel. Hope steered the boat over to the sloping bank beside it.

Rae staggered from exhaustion, but still helped to pull the boat up onto the rocks. "I smell asphalt. Is there a road?"

"Yes," said Hope. She knew she had a decision to make. They could continue paddling up the river in search of... what? Did she hope to find The Way somewhere? Or Undead Elvis? Or Graceland? Hope shook her head; she knew she'd been lying to herself. The journey upstream had been one of convenience. She'd chosen that direction because she had to choose something. If they'd gone downstream, they might have found the Gulf of Mexico, or civilization. Instead, she'd chosen the more difficult path, and once again faced a similar decision.

The flowing river of Nature or the asphalt river of Man?

She looked around, wondering if there might be a sign, although she didn't know if she was looking for a sign from men or a sign from G.o.d.

Rae squeezed Hope's arm. "Someone's coming. I feel it in the ground."

Hope couldn't see or hear anyone, but she'd learned that as Rae's own sight and sound had been taken, her other senses had grown uncanny and sharp.

Then, in the trees beyond the far river bank, she saw flashing lights. They weren't the red and blue of an approaching fire engine, but the flickering amber of a service vehicle instead. "Come on," said Hope to Rae, and led the young woman up the slope beside the bridge. She didn't think the approaching vehicle was of the Righteous Flame, but would risk anything to avoid being eaten by the wolf pack.

The rattling roar of a Diesel added itself to the flashing lights and a moment later a beat-up red tow truck rolled out of the trees and onto the bridge. Its roof lights flashed bright but one headlamp was out, and Hope felt an irrational urge to yell out, "Padiddle!" like the game she'd played with her brother whenever they spotted cars with headlights out as children. Instead, she put on her best smile and stuck out her thumb.

Rae shrank against her as the driver pulled over in a heady cloud of black smoke. The dingy, flaking paint on the pa.s.senger door was still legible enough to read-Light of G.o.d 24-hour Wrecker Service-and went on to inform that Visa and Mastercard were cheerfully accepted, but no checks, please. The windows were down and he leaned across the seat to look at the two women. Hope regarded his black hair, mustache and stubble, and dark eyes set deep in his olive-hued face, which gave him an exotic look. "May I help you?" His voice was a cheerful tenor.

Hope noticed he kept one hand well out of her view. She reached behind her to feel the comforting handle of the Shepherd's pistol against the small of her back. "We're stranded," she said. "Wrecked our car days ago. And there are bad men in the forest. And wolves. Can you please help us? Please?" She knew she sounded frantic, but any pretension at being suave had disappeared with the realization that despite the dingy appearance of the truck, he appeared to be neat and clean. His skin gave off the shine of regular bathing and his work shirt, though rough and patched, wasn't sweat-stained. She could even smell a hint of his soap underneath the odious Diesel fumes, and beyond that some other sweet, spicy scent that made her stomach do delirious flip-flops.

He smiled. "Wrecked car? Maybe I've found it. I've been salvaging wrecks I find ever since everything stopped."

"Do you have any food?" asked Rae. "You smell like rice and curry and vegetables. And soap. I'd love a bath. A real one." She bowed her head, demure. "I would pay whatever price you require."

"Rae, no," whispered Hope.

The tow truck driver's eyes grew wide. "No, of course I will help you. I've seen enough hatred to last several lifetimes and I'm not going to be the one to perpetrate it further." He paused and met Hope's gaze. "A lot of folks a.s.sume that I'm a terrorist or worse because of my lineage. Are you planning to shoot me?"

"Not if you're not going to shoot me either," said Hope. Her skin crawled as she sensed rather than saw the gun in his hidden hand.

"I'd rather not," he said.

Rae squeezed Hope's arm. "I don't think he's dangerous," she said, loud enough for him to hear.

He shrugged a little and showed his hidden hand. It was empty. Hope wondered if he'd even been armed at all. She left the Shepherds' pistol where it was and showed her own empty hand. "I'd rather not shoot you either," said Hope. "Will you help us? Any... any price you'd like. Charge it to me, though. Not to her. She's-" She swallowed, the fresh memory like stepping on a sticker weed in the dark. "-been traumatized enough."

"I'm no rapist," said the driver. "And I'd welcome the company. I've had n.o.body but G.o.d to talk to for months now, and I'm not even sure He's listening any longer." He reached down and unlatched the pa.s.senger door.

Hope extended her hand to him. "I'm Hope, and this is Rae."

"Nur," he said. "Nur Salaam. Nice to meet you. I've got some food and clean water back at my little shop if you want to go there."

"That sounds lovely," said Hope. She rubbed her swelling belly and marveled that it seemed to have distended further even in just a few days.

Rae fumbled her way into the cab before Hope could stop her. The young woman settled herself in and smiled in her unnerving, unfocused way. Hope sat beside her and rolled down the window; Nur may have been clean, but she and Rae both reeked of sweat, fish, and the stink of river mud.

"Nice to meet you," said Nur to Rae. When she didn't respond, he looked her up and down. "Is she deaf?"

"And blind," said Hope. "I don't know if she lost her sight when she hit her head or... or if she saw something horrible."

"There are some horrible things to be seen these days," said Nur. "But G.o.d is merciful, and with His blessing I have avoided the worst of it." He shifted the truck into Drive and they rolled down the roaad.

"Are you a pious man, Nur?"

"I am. Does that bother you?"

"No."

"Do you have beliefs of your own?"