James Tarr - Dogsoldiers

Ed had no idea if there used to be something on the piece of property, or if it was land set aside for a project that had never come to fruition, but the chain link fence around the periphery was so old most of it hung like ripped shower curtains from the supporting crossbar. They jogged across the four lanes of Lucky, slipped through a split in the rusty chain link, then strode through a line of mature maples just inside the fence line. Past the trees were a hundred yards of open grass, knee high, and beyond that a thick patch of woods.

The squad moved through the grass quickly, at five-meter intervals, their pantlegs swishing. In less than a minute they had all moved out of sight under the trees. Inside the tree line they tightened up their distance, and George took the lead. He knew from studying the map that a thousand feet ahead of them, through the patch of woods, was the border of another neighborhood. An old one, with tree cover so complete the houses were nearly invisible to passing aircraft or satellites, at least to the naked eye.

They were weaving between trees, moving up a slight slope in an arrowhead formation, the first house just visible in front of them through the wild green tangles—an attractive edifice with a fieldstone exterior—when Ed abruptly raised a fist. Everyone froze.

Ed cocked his head. He’d heard something. Something bigger than a squirrel. Something close. He gave a quick gesture and the men quickly and quietly moved to cover behind tree trunks, raising their weapons. Weasel happened to be standing in a slight depression and he slowly sank to his belly, disappearing into the grass and ferns.

Ed exchanged a look with George, forty feet away. George had heard it too. Both men shouldered their rifles and peered around the trees they’d chosen for cover. The ground between the trees was not open but rather snarled with bushes and saplings and clumps of grass, all of it deeply shadowed by the canopies of leaves above.

Ed peered into the foliage, hearing a faint snuffling. His thumb moved the selector switch on his rifle from Safe to Fire, and he felt fresh sweat pop out all over his already damp body.

Leaves swayed, a dead branch crunched, and then a furred snout emerged from a thick tangle of raspberry bushes twenty feet ahead. Ed blinked, at first not sure what he was seeing in the dim light under the trees. The fur was various shades of brown, giving the animal a kind of natural camouflage, and its snout was wide. Not an enemy soldier, then. Breathing easier, Ed was just starting to wonder what kind of dog it was when the animal pushed the rest of its body through the thorny bramble with a loud grunt. Everyone on the squad froze at the sight of the massive bear.

Its head was the size of a basketball, and there was a big hump above its shoulders. The light under the trees had disguised its size at first, but as it emerged from the bushes the immense size of the animal was unmistakable. It was chewing something, and its big head swayed from side to side. Then its nose shot up and sniffed. After a half second pause, the animal stood up on its hind legs and swiveled its head to look directly at George, who was closest to it. A sound halfway between snort and growl crawled its way out of the animal’s throat. Its fur was long and thick and medium brown.

Ed’s mouth dropped open. On its back legs the bear had to be ten feet tall, and looked as wide as a garage. His mind quivered in place for a moment. He had no idea what you were supposed to do when confronted by a bear. Not run away, he was pretty sure bears viewed that as an invitation to attack.

Making a decision, George stepped out from behind the tree. He didn’t want to be seen as trying to hide. He gestured with his hand still behind the tree; show yourselves.

Taking a deep breath, Ed stepped out from his tree. The giant bear swiveled its eyes toward him, startled, then toward Mark farther back as the big man moved out from behind the two-trunked oak he’d been behind. Then it saw Jason, and Quentin. Then Early. When Weasel slowly rose from the grass, seemingly out of nowhere, the bear made a loud sound, almost a bark, of displeasure. It sank back down to all fours and slowly, insouciantly, turned around and padded off, stopping several times to look over its shoulder at the squad. For as huge as the creature was it made almost no noise pushing through the underbrush.

Keeping his eyes and his rifle trained on the spot in the brush where the bear had disappeared, Ed waved for the squad to move. He heard them behind him, heading for the house. After waiting another minute Ed began heading that way too, walking backward, rifle butt still against his shoulder. He found George next to him, and the duo backed up together, slowly, carefully, all the way to the house, where they found Mark covering them with the belt-fed SAW.

The house was empty and smelled dusty. The squad collapsed in the main room.

“Jesus fuck, I need a minute,” George gasped, his face white. “I nearly had a goddamn heart attack. That bear was big as a car.”

“What do you think that thing weighed?” Jason marveled.

“I think that was a grizzly,” Quentin said.

“Eight hundred, a thousand pounds,” Early estimated. “I think it was a grizzly too.” He had more experience hunting prior to the war than the rest of the squad combined.

“We could have killed him easy, right?” Jason said, looking around at all the weaponry.

“Not before he made at least one of us into a chew toy,” Mark said with a grim smile. He looked over and saw Ed’s hands quivering. “You okay?”

Ed shook his head as he pulled out a canteen and took a sip. “Years ago somebody told a story about how they’d run into a lion patrolling the east side, but I always assumed it was horseshit. I think I might owe him an apology now.”

“You think it walked all the way down from up north?” Jason asked.

“You mean like you? More likely it escaped from the zoo. Like that lion, if that story’s real. Zoo’s only ten miles from here.”

“Man, I haven’t thought about the zoo in years,” Mark said. “I know it’s shut down now, but did they close it, or just abandon it? You think they let all the animals loose?” He couldn’t believe the vets and everyone else who worked there tending the animals would just leave them in their pens to starve. “Anyone know?” He just got shaking heads and shrugs.

“Could a lion survive the winter? The snow?” Jason wondered.

“Like we didn’t have enough shit to worry about in this shithole,” Weasel said. “Now it’s lions and tigers and motherfucking bears. Oh my.”

Combat made you expect the unexpected, to make plans but assume they would fall apart at the first gunshot, but still, a bear? Ed had thought he’d seen it all, after nearly a decade of fighting, but the bear had been something else entirely. For some reason it made him remember one of the first “unexpected” incidents of the war, or at least his part of the war. When he really hadn’t known anything, but still, apparently, had been very lucky…

The street had been quiet and nearly empty all day. A few pedestrians had scurried down the sidewalks as fast as their legs could carry them, obviously aware just how dangerous their neighborhood had become. Most of the homes looked undamaged until you got close and saw how few of the windows sported whole panes. Half the houses were bungalows and half were a full two stories, almost all of them clad in brown or red brick, and it was difficult to see bullet holes in dark brick from more than ten feet away. More than one fierce firefight had swept through these streets. While the conventional battle was long over, almost none of the area residents had returned, even though their homes (compared to some in the city) were relatively undamaged.