EIGHT
THE BEAR would have killed me, if not for Rudi. The cub leapt from the tree, landing on top of the bear’s head, momentarily blinding it. The bear roared and swiped at the cub, who ducked and bit one of its ears. The bear roared again and shook its head viciously from side to side. Rudi held on for a couple of seconds, before he was sent flying into a thicket.
The bear resumed its attack on me, but in the time the cub had bought, I’d ducked round the tree and was racing for the cave as fast as I could. The bear lurched after me, realized I was too far ahead, bellowed angrily, turned and went looking for Rudi.
I stopped when I heard frightened yapping. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the cub had made it back up the tree, the bark of which the bear was now ripping to pieces with its claws. Rudi was in no immediate danger, but sooner or later he’d slip or the bear would shake him down, and that would be the end of him.
I paused no more than a second, then turned, picked up a rock and the thickest stick I could find, and sped back to try and save Rudi.
The bear let go of the tree when it saw me coming, dropped to its haunches and met my challenge. It was a huge beast, maybe a metre and a half high; it had black fur, a white quarter-moon mark across its chest and a whitish face. Foam flecked its jaws and its eyes were wild, as though touched by rabid madness.
I stopped in front of the bear and whacked the ground with my stick. “Come on, Grizzly,” I growled. It snarled and tossed its head. I glanced up at Rudi, hoping he’d have enough sense to slink down the tree and retreat to the cave, but he stayed where he was, petrified, unable to let go.
The bear swiped at me but I ducked out of the way of its massive paw. Rearing up on its hind legs, it collapsed flat upon me, trying to crush me with the weight of its body. I avoided it again, but it was a closer call this time.
I was prodding at the bear’s face with the end of the stick, aiming for its eyes, when the she-wolves rushed on to the scene – they must have heard Rudi’s yapping. The bear howled as one of the wolves leapt and bit deep into its shoulder, while the other attached herself to its legs, tearing at them with her teeth and claws. It shook off the uppermost wolf and bent to deal with the lower one, which was when I darted in with my stick and jabbed at its left ear.
I must have hurt it, because it lost interest in the wolves and hurled itself at me. I ducked out of the way of its body but one of its burly forelegs connected with the side of my head and knocked me to the ground.
The bear rolled to its feet and made for me, scattering the wolves with swipes of its claws. I scrabbled backwards, but not fast enough. Suddenly the bear was above me, standing erect, bellowing triumphantly – it had me exactly where it wanted! I slammed the stick against its stomach, then the rock, but it took no notice of such feeble blows. Leering, it started to fall…
…which was when the Little People barrelled into its back and knocked it off balance. Their timing couldn’t have been any sweeter.
The bear must have thought the entire world was conspiring against it. Every time it had me in its sights, something new got in the way. Roaring loudly at the Little People, it threw itself at them madly. The one with the limp stepped out of its way but the other got trapped beneath it.
The Little Person raised his short arms, jammed them against the bear’s torso and tried to shove it aside. The Little Person was strong, but he stood no chance against such a massive foe, and the bear came crashing down and flattened him. There was a horrible crunching sound and when the bear got to its feet, I saw the Little Person lying in pieces, broken bones jutting out of his body at crooked red angles.
The bear lifted its head and bellowed at the sky, then fixed its eyes on me and leered hungrily. Dropping to all fours, it advanced. The wolves leapt at it but it shook them loose as though they were fleas. I was still dazed from the blow, not able to get to my feet, I began crawling through the snow.
As the bear closed in for the kill, the second Little Person – the one I called Lefty – stepped in front of it, caught it by its ears, and head-butted it! It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen, but it did a remarkably effective job. The bear grunted and blinked dumbly. Lefty head-butted it again and was rearing his head back for a third blow when the bear struck at him with its right paw, like a boxer.
It hit Lefty in the chest and knocked him down. His hood had fallen off during the struggle and I could see his grey stitched-together face and round green eyes. There was a mask over his mouth, like the sort doctors wear during surgery. He stared up at the bear, unafraid, waiting for the killer blow.
“No!” I screamed. Stumbling to my knees, I threw a punch at the bear. It snarled at me. I punched it again, then grabbed a handful of snow and threw it into the beast’s eyes.
While the bear cleared its vision, I looked for a weapon. I was desperate – anything was better than my bare hands. At first I saw nothing I could use, but then my eyes fell on the bones sticking out of the dead Little Person’s body. Acting on instinct, I rolled across to where the Little Person lay, took hold of one of the longer bones, and pulled. It was covered in blood and my fingers slipped off. Trying again, I got a firmer hold and worked it from side to side. After a few tugs it snapped near the base and suddenly I wasn’t defenceless any longer.
The bear had regained its sight and was pounding towards me. Lefty was still on the ground. The wolves were barking furiously, unable to do anything to deter the charging bear. The cub yapped from its perch in the tree.
I was on my own. Me against the bear. No one could help me now.
Spinning, using all my extra-sharp vampire abilities, I rolled beneath the clutching claws of the bear, jumped to my feet, picked my spot, and rammed the tip of the bone deep into the bear’s unprotected neck.
The bear came to a halt. Its eyes bulged. Its forelegs dropped by its sides. For a moment it stood, gasping painfully, the bone sticking out of its neck. Then it crashed to the ground, shook horribly for a few seconds – and died.
I fell on top of the dead bear and lay there. I was shaking and crying, more from fright than pain. I’d looked death in the eye before, but never had I been involved in a fight as savage as this.
Eventually, one of the she-wolves – the normally shy one – cuddled up to me and licked around my face, making sure I was all right. I patted her to show I was OK, and buried my face in her neck, drying my tears on her hair. When I felt able, I stood and gazed at the area around me.
The other she-wolf was by the tree, coaxing Rudi down – the cub was even more shaken than me. The dead Little Person lay not far away, his blood seeping into the snow, turning it crimson. Lefty was sitting up, checking himself for injuries.
I made my way over to Lefty to thank him for saving my life. He was incredibly ugly without his hood: he had grey skin, and his face was a mass of scars and stitches. He had no ears or nose that I could see, and his round green eyes were set near the top of his head, not in the middle of his face like they are with most people. He was completely hairless.
Any other time I might have been frightened, but this creature had risked his life to save mine, and all I felt was gratitude. “Are you OK, Lefty?” I asked. He looked up and nodded. “That was a close call,” I half-laughed. Again he nodded. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I’d have been a goner if you hadn’t stepped in.” I sank to the ground beside him and gazed at the bear, then at the dead Little Person. “Sorry about your partner, Lefty,” I said softly. “Shall we bury him?”
The Little Person shook his large head, started to rise, then paused. He stared into my eyes and I stared back questioningly. By the expression on his face, I almost expected him to speak.
Reaching up, Lefty gently tugged down the mask which covered the lower half of his face. He had a wide mouth full of sharp, yellow teeth. He stuck out his tongue – which was a strange grey colour, like his skin – and licked his lips. When they were wet, he flexed and stretched them a few times, then did the one thing I was sure the Little People could never do. In a