Survival Stories
I could have been a good boy and done what I was told. But that wasn't my style. I just kept paddling, straight into the morning sun.
The woman's dress was ripped and her tears made white streaks in the dirt on her face. She stared into the mass of jumbled lumber. Allie could hear a baby wailing from somewhere in the mess.
Bleddyn sloshed the contents along the house wall at the back of the lean-to, coating the lower five feet of shakes so that the excess fluid pooled along the whole length of the concrete floor.
Then he took out his cigarette lighter.
The forest about me is absolutely still.
I shoot.
I shoot at the ground before the bear's massive paws. A scuff of snow flies up. In the next moment I lean the rifle against a tree trunk and grab my bear spray from my coat pocket where I've kept it warm. I pull off the safety clip, and this time I walk toward the bear.
Not away. I'm through with walking away.
