A New E.R.A. of Hunters

The Alaskan forest was pristine and crisp. There was not a sound for miles save the wind whistling in the trees. I had gobbled down three oranges and four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and was nursing a slight belly ache, but I was happy. I always had a voracious appetite when hunting, and today was no exception.

I had been tracking the brown bear for four days. There were four prints by the brook where I was sitting and they looked fresh. I was getting closer. Also, I noticed that the ice was cracked in several places. My bear, and perhaps some other game, had stopped here to drink. I tapped at the place where the ice was cracked using my index finger as a small pick. I then scooped out a handful of water and touched it to the tip of my dry tongue. I sighed. It was heavenly.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of twigs breaking. I froze. Much too big for a bird or a squirrel. And then came a low growl. Despite all my survivor training and the advice of my crazy cousin Dale, I panicked. I felt all the breathe go out of me. My knees knocked together in weakness an I somehow lost my footing falling into the frigid snow bank.

There bounding out of the forest on the other side of the brook came not one, but two bears.Neither animal was the brown bear I had been traking...no these, were much much bigger. These were grizzlies and they looked ready to lunge.

What followed was not a calm and collected moment where I scoped out my options and decided what to do. I did not feel heroic or brave, or like my ancient ancestor hunters as I'd hoped. No, I, Vivio Antonio Black, the son of the famous pro wrestler Demarcus Black the Obliterator, screamed like a little pigtailed girl and ran for the hills. 

How inconvenient, that my only escape route was uphill. Not just uphill, but up a cliff. I began to climb, but my hands were ice numb. The rocks were coming out from under my grip, the grizzlies had crossed the bank in one beautiful synchronized leap and I felt a rush of panic as warmth brushed the hairs on the back of my neck.

Too late, I remembered my rifle...it was on the bank. I had a small knife on my belt. I fumbled for it, turning to face the music and there was something so strange, so confusing, I felt I must not be well. One of the grizzlies was holding my rifle under his arm. That couldn't be right. Even as I thought it, I felt ludicrous.

"Put your hands up," a low male voice growled."Throw that knife on the ground. Up, up now boy, where we can see them!"

I looked around, startled in a stunned kind of way. People? Here? How? I looked at the largest bear in front of me. It was moving in a strange way...like he was shedding skin...his eyes looked stone dead. He wasn't growling anymore. Was he trying to...stand up...or, or vomit something out?

"We're right here idiot!" A girl's voice this time. Clipped, impatient, haughty almost. Then it all became clear.The smaller grizzlies skin fell away, revealing a small girl with brown ombre curls and a pinched nose. The larger grizzlies coat dropped to the ground as well, revealing the male voice, a tall boy with pointy shoulders and oil black hair...hard black eyes, like a beetles caught in a puddle, determined to turn over by sheer force of will.

The beetle eyed boy had my gun, and he was jamming the barrel right at my brain. More terror than I could have ever believed possible ripped through me. My heart accelerated to a speed I would have sworn only some sort of adrenaline drug could induce.

"What do you want?" I whispered, hating the desperation in my voice. Hating more still, that I had not acquiesced to my crazy cousin Dale's insistence that he come along or at least meet up with me later on in the week. I was going to die. I was going to die. I thought of my mom, sitting at home and knitting herself into hysteria...my dad, silently walking into the bathroom and taking just one sleeping pill day, after day, after day. Maybe on this day just a few more...

"No, no, I'm not ready to die!" I said shaking. No one had spoken yet. The girl smirked and spit on me. I felt all the blood rush to my face, but I said nothing. I was struck suddenly by her t-shirt.

"You are scum," she said. "But don't worry, we don't have any intention of killing you. We're not killers like you!"

There was something about her shirt. She was gloating in it, almost strutting in it like a peacock.

"New Justice E.R.A.," I read. "What does that mean?" 

"It stands for Equal Rights for Animals," the boy said irritably. "Not that I would expect you to know or care."

"Tiffany, tell him what we have in store for him."

The girl, Tiffany, smiled again...she was the sort of pretty person that still had a sick smile. Her teeth were fine, but there was a pointiness to them, and she almost had a hungry look when she laughed.

"Justice and I are going to take you to The Zoo. Our Zoo. It's a place E.R.A. has created for disgusting stalkers and killers like you. You'll be put in a cage by yourself. You'll be completely dependent on the good graces of our kind. If we don't feel like feeding you, or letting you out to take a dump then you'll starve and sleep in your own mess. Capisce?"

"Capisce," I said, my terror turning to a slow horror, the kind that builds in long tunneled nightmares as you walk toward your doom. 

The gun went down, and when it did, my knees finally gave out. I slumped to the ground. My head hit the back of the cliffside and I remembered no more.

When I woke I was wrapped in the grizzlies' skins. For some reason this made me want to vomit....it wasn't supposed to go like this. I peeked out from the skins and all around me were steel metal bars. The space between the bars was only big enough for my fingers to reach out knuckle deep. There was a shock collar around my neck. In the corner by a cobweb was a small bowl of water, and a food bowl of mush that smelled rancid; the contents were unrecognizable.

I picked up the bowl and slung it across the wall, hot angry tears bursting forth. It was gratifying to hear the ceramic crack. So gratifying I didn't even care when a shard of it stabbed me in the foot. I reached to pull it out and something very peculiar caught my eye.

It couldn't be....I studied the shard. There was an initial in the shard. L.B. My angry tears turned to hysteric delight. I laughed, and laughed again. L.B.--Linda Black, my crazy cousin Dale's mother. I thanked my lucky stars that my craft obsessed aunt had added pottery to the long list of her new hobbies. She put her initials on anything she ever made. I took the piece of shard and kissed it to my lips. Maybe, just maybe, there was some hope after all!