Pursuit of the Apocalypse (17 page)

“I don’t have to ask if you’re in trouble,” the woman said as she removed a kettle from the wood stove. “Anyone soaking wet and out of breath in these woods is in trouble. But you don’t have to worry. You’re safe here.” She tipped the kettle and poured the steaming liquid into a cup.

Erica took the mug and realized for the first time that her hands had begun to shake. The cup warmed them and she looked inside at the brown liquid. She could not identify it by sight and a quick sniff didn’t help either.

“It’s rabbit broth, dear,” the woman explained. “It sounds like a terrible idea, but it’s really quite delicious. And it will help warm you up.”

Erica smelled the drink again and took a sip. She felt the heat hit her stomach and took a larger drink. “That is good. Thank you.”

“I thought you’d like it. I like it. And the bears never complain.”

As the heat returned to her body, she suddenly realized how cold she had been. Erica took another sip and leaned back into the throw as far as she could. “Can I ask about the bears?”

The woman laughed and one of the bears turned. Her soft voice took on a stern tone. “Focus on your food, Paddington.”

“Paddington? He must love marmalade.”

She smiled. “I don’t know. Never had any out here. But I doubt he would. He’s my picky eater.”

Erica watched the bear turn back to a plate of food and grunt. The woman paid no attention to it. “How are you doing this?” Erica asked.

The older woman stuck out her hand and shook Erica’s. “I’m Martha Rainford. I am an ursinologist. I was out here studying these marvelous creatures for years before the world went to shit.”

“Were you out here alone?”

“Oh yes, I always quite liked being alone.” She laughed. “I never had much use for people until all the people were gone. It wasn’t until after the war that I actually began to even feel loneliness.” She gestured to the bears. “They must have felt it to. Not long after it all happened, they moved in. We’ve been keeping each other company ever since.”

“That’s incredible.”

She shrugged. “It’s shot my work all to hell. I can’t really be an impartial observer of nature when I have to use the toilet in front of it every morning, now can I?”

“I ... I guess not.”

“But it’s all for the best. It wasn’t easy teaching them manners, but once we got past that, things have been pretty simple.”

Paddington turned and grunted again. This grunt was gentler. It almost sounded like a question.

“Did you clean your plate?” Martha asked.

The bear grunted again.

“Then, yes, you may be excused.”

The bear stood up from the table and crossed the room to the kitchen. The massive paws worked a pump over the sink until a stream of water began to flow. Paddington ran his paws under the water for a moment before dragging them across a towel.

“That’s incredible,” Erica said.

“It’s a friggin’ miracle is what it is,” Martha said. “I usually have to remind him several times to wash his paws. He always fights me on it.”

Erica just shook her head and the woman laughed. She stood up and pointed to the bear in the kitchen. “That, as you surely know, is Paddington.” She walked over to the table and put her hands on one of the bear’s shoulders while it ate. “This is my Winnie.”

Erica smiled.

Martha moved around to the other side of the table and put a hand on the largest of the three bears. The one in the hat. “And this ...”

Erica giggled. “Let me guess. That’s Fozzie.”

“No, dear. This is Murderbear.”

Erica felt the heat run out of her again. “Why do you call him Murderbear?”

“Because he likes to murder things, dear. A lot.” She scratched Murderbear on the head and adopted the voice of a doting mother. “Donchoo, Murderbear? Donchoo like murdering things? Yesh. Yesh you do.”

Erica pulled her legs up into the chair with plans to hide under the blanket if Murderbear should act up. “You’re ... you’re training Super Smart Bears.”

To Murderbear’s dismay, Martha stopped scratching his head and turned to Erica with folded arms. “Oh, no. You’re one of those people.”

“One of what people?”

“Idiots, dear.”

Erica felt the room grow colder despite the blanket and the rabbit broth. “I don’t understand.”

“Idiots usually don’t, dear. That’s why they’re idiots.” Martha smiled warmly, gave Murderbear one last scratch, and took a seat across from Erica. “I don’t mean to be cruel, dear. You’re obviously quite intelligent. It’s just that we ursinologists, well, any of us that are left, I guess, get our hackles up when we hear that term.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you. Or Murderbear.”

Martha patted her knee. “Of course you didn’t. You didn’t know any better. And that’s the problem. You see, there are no Super Smart Bears. No such thing. Now some bears are dumber than the average bear. Some are smarter. But most are just as average as the average bear. But there is no such thing as a super smart bear.”

“But people have seen them doing such amazing things.” Erica had seen them do such amazing things.

“Of course they have, because bears are amazing creatures. Let me ask you this: how many bears did you run into before the world ended up in the shitter?”

“Not very many.” Erica thought about saying she’d seen them in the zoo before, but Winnie was giving her an odd look that made her decide it would be a bad idea. “None, actually.”

“Right. And most people are just like you. Your ursine interactions were profoundly limited. All you knew of these magnificent creatures was what you saw on television or read in books or heard in the lies that the Forestry Service propagandized to you all throughout childhood through that bastardization of nature.”

“Smokey?”

“Yes,” Martha spat. “That’s the bastard I’m talking about.”

As Martha’s anger grew visible, Erica bit back the Pavlovian urge to spout out how only she could prevent forest fires.

Martha forced a smile. “But the truth is, bears have always been remarkably smart. They are far more intelligent than people ever gave them credit for ...” She turned to address a noise coming from the kitchen. “Paddington! I’ve told you to stop chewing on the plunger.”

Paddington growled a protest, but dropped the plunger and sat down on the kitchen floor with a huff.

Martha turned backed to Erica. “Many people had never seen a bear until they were forced out of their precious cities and tossed back into nature.” She shrugged. “They’re just bears. Doing things bears have always done. And people have gone on being stupid just like they have always done.”

Erica didn’t know what to say. As far as wasteland threats had gone, Super Smart Bears were a constant concern. Knowing that they were just bears didn’t make her worry any less about an encounter. But, it did make her feel like more of a coward. They had just been regular bears all along.

Martha continued. “At first I thought the bombs would wipe out all the bear ignorance in the world. Oddly enough it just made it worse. The only thing it ruined was my career.”

“Your career? But you still get to work with bears.”

Martha smiled. “Of course. They are my passion. But, dammit, if I wasn’t this close to being the Jane Goodall of bears. I spent years blending in with the bears, and I was only weeks away from launching my YouTube series: Bearly There with Martha Rainford. Do you like the name?”

“Um, sure.”

“It’s a pun.”

“I got the pun.”

“Oh. Well, it was about to launch and make me famous and then Meryl Streep would have played me in the movie. But instead, I’m here. Living with three bears and, dammit, Paddington, put down that plunger.”

Paddington roared and continued chewing on the red rubber.

Martha stood and stomped into the kitchen. She grabbed the plunger’s handle and yanked at it, but Paddington yanked back. Martha pulled again and a brief struggle ensued. The older woman finally wrestled the plunger away and struck the bear with it. “Bad Paddington. Bad. Bad.”

Paddington whimpered and wandered to the far corner of the cabin to sulk.

Erica joined Martha in the kitchen. “So they aren’t really dangerous?”

“Don’t be stupid, dear. Of course they’re dangerous.” She threw the plunger into the sink. “They’re still bears.”

TWENTY-TWO

“They’re going to make you fight a bear,” Mr. Christopher said like he was threatening to tattle to Mommy. “Trial by bear. That’s what they call it. It’s going to be hilarious watching you get eaten by a bear.”

The Librarian said nothing.

“Don’t feel like talking, eh? What’s the matter?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Bear got your tongue?” The bounty hunter smiled.

“And here I was thinking I couldn’t hate you more.”

Mr. Christopher shook the bars of his cell. There wasn’t so much as a rattle. “They build a better prison than they do a society, don’t they? You’re not getting out of this one.”

It was only because he was in a separate cell that the man from Alasis was able to speak at all. Jerry had only gotten in a few good hits during the flag fight, and it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Every word from the man’s mouth made the hatred grow.

Mr. Christopher laughed. “This is going to end up being a really bad day for you, you know? They don’t like violence around here. Unless it’s their idea. And when it is ...” he laughed again, “... they are really good at it.”

“You don’t seem too concerned,” Jerry said.

“Why should I be? I’ve got a get out of jail free card. They’re not going to do anything to me if they don’t want the food shipments to stop. And, trust me, these people don’t want to do a damn thing for themselves.” He let go of the bars and walked to the back of his cell and sat down. “Probably couldn’t if they tried.”

Jerry sat and studied the cell as he had for the last hour. It was solid. The bars were bolted into the doorframe. The doorframe and the rest of it was made of cinder blocks. There were no windows. What light there was came from the hallway outside.

Mr. Christopher stretched his legs out and put his hands behind his head. “Nope. All I have to do is sit here, watch them kill you, and take your head back to Alasis in a bag. I don’t think you’ll mind one way or the other, but do you have a preference of what kind of bag you’d like me to use? To tell you the truth, I’ll probably just go with plastic in the end, but I figured you should at least believe you have some say in the matter.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

“And why wouldn’t I be? Do you really think you’re going to get out of this?”

“We’ll see.”

Mr. Christopher laughed. “I love your optimism. Even now you’re stupid enough to believe in yourself.”

“Me? Were you always this big of an asshole, or is your ego some kind of special mutation?”

He laughed again. “Do you want to know what I did before the Crappening?”

“No. I withdraw the question.”

Mr. Christopher laughed at this and then leaned against the cell door. “What do you think I did before the end of the world?”

“I’m guessing you annoyed people.”

“I’ve always found it fascinating how the end of the world transformed everything. I’m not just talking about the cities and the bears. I’m talking about how it really changed people.”

Jerry turned away from the cell door and moved to the back of his cell. The philosophies of psychopaths were never simple. This was going to take some time.

“It’s quite amazing really,” Christopher continued. “If you think about it, there was probably no time in history that mankind was least prepared for an apocalypse. We had risen to such levels of genius that we had made everyday skills obsolete. Technology, infrastructure, commerce, all of it had become so advanced that once removed from the system we were more ignorant than a serf in the Middle Ages. We had outsmarted ourselves. We were useless. We had no right to survive this, you know? We were doomed.

“That’s why I find it interesting to hear what all of these survivors did before. Because everyone out there has found a way to overcome their ignorance. And do you know what?”

“Don’t care.”

“It doesn’t matter what a person did before it all ended. Not one bit. The apocalypse was the great leveler, Jerry. I came across this town once that had the best garden. The most delicious fruits and vegetables I have ever tasted. You’d think the man behind it all would be a farmer, or at least one of those hipster urban gardeners. But, no, he was a tow truck driver. Never touched a plant before he had to.”

“You’re still talking.”

“Every now and then you run into someone still plying their old trade. Nurses and doctors mostly. But what use is a stockbroker now? Or a marketing executive? They were suddenly useless. They had to figure it out.

“My favorite is the people who thought they were someone beforehand thought they would still be someone after it all. They thought they still ran things. They never lasted too long. They were either run out of town or put their hands in the dirt like everyone else. If they wanted to survive they had to figure it out.”

Jerry closed his eyes and imagined a world where ears had eyelids.

“I was a nobody before. I was a hard worker. I played by the rules. I never hurt anyone. And I never got anywhere. Others made their living off my efforts. When I had a chance to start over, I wasn’t going to let that happen again. I’m the one that takes advantage of people now. Because I figured it out.”

“So you were a loser before and now you’re a dick. Got it,” said Jerry.

“You never figured it out, Librarian. The good guy always gets fucked. That’s one thing that didn’t change. You’ve run all over this wasteland doing good, helping people, watching them benefit from your pains. And now you’re going to die for what? For helping people that wouldn’t help themselves? What a sad end. This is what doing good gets you. So you shouldn’t judge me too harshly when you’re the one that’s too stupid to get it.”

Jerry shrugged. “Yeah, you’ve got it all figured out, but all I know is that you’ve been trying to take my head for over a year. That’s longer than anyone else I’ve ever met. But my head’s still here, which means you are the worst head hunter I know.”