Anvil Submission: The Consequence

A Bear Back Pulp

The mountain observed three men walking through her trails. It was the dead of winter; snow covered the mountain's trees and paths as the sun began to sink low. She was beginning to drift to sleep with her critters and predators forgetting the cycle of life and remembering the cycle of night. But the three men crunched through the snow, uncaring of their disturbance in the mountain's trails. They had a man to hunt.

One man led the pack, map in hand. The second behind him kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings, knowing nature can wake up and attack at any time. Only the one in the rear seemed more green than the surrounding woods. They all carried repeater rifles, but the last weapon shook in the hands of its young owner.

"Timmy! get a hold of yourself, boy!" the second vigilant man spat at the one in the rear. "Wh-why are we g-g-going after a deserter anyways, Paw?" stuttered Timmy, "Obviously he's a coward; he won't harm no one." Paw began to answer, anger contorting his face, but the man with the map chimed in first, "He may be a coward, but he is still Confederate scum and needs to pay for his actions in the war." "That's right," Paw said, "so do as the officer says and follow along; it's time for you to learn to be a man." Timmy tried staring his father in the eyes, but his old man won the contest as Timmy looked away and attempted to steady his rifle.

The three men continued on in silence for a time, the officer up front paying close attention to the surroundings and how they matched on his map. "We're close now; we're in his territory," the officer said, snow crunching under the heavy boots of the troupe. "Check your weapon son," Paw barked, "you gotta be ready at any given moment. This Dixie turd could be on us at any second!" The firearm did not put Timmy at ease as he began to shake harder.

The troupe suddenly stopped, sensing a change in their surroundings; all nature had stopped, but the sun was not completely gone yet. The officer and father looked vigilantly around them, focusing their eyes. Timmy's eyes darted back and forth, to and fro, unable to focus on anything and wide as a dark ocean.

HE-HAAAAAAAWWW

The officer and father both pointed their weapons in the direction of the sudden sound; Timmy dropped his rifle and curled into a ball on the ground. A lone donkey was tied to a tree outside of their path. It carried a pack on its back, clearly loaded with provisions for a mountaineer. "This must be his animal," the officer said.

"Yes, he is..." a gravelly bearded voice said from behind them.

The two men jumped, turning around to the figure behind them. Timmy opened from his ball to look at the man who had spoken. He wore a wide black brimmed hat, frontier coat, pants, and boots. He carried a repeater rifle slung on his shoulder and a six shooter in his hand, pointed at the ground. The feature that caught Timmy's eyes was the great black bear pelt that hung from the man's broad shoulders and flowed down his back.

All four of them stood in silence. Bear Back stared at the intruding troupe, his eyes saying more than words ever could. They were a deep brown, with green encasing them. A heavy beard concealed any facial expression except for a hairy scowl. The officer suddenly remembered why he was there. Fumbling in his coat he produced a letter and held it between himself and Bear Back, shielding himself from the wild man's stare. "By order of the United States government, I am placing you under arrest for crimes committed during the Civil War." Bear Back responded with silence and his unbroken stare. The officer looked around, as if there were an audience.

He made a soft scowl to try to rival the wild man's. He motioned for the rest of the troupe to follow him as he pulled out a pair of iron cuffs. The father followed the officer, but the boy stayed on the ground, staring at Bear Back. The two men slowly moved toward the statuesque man. Then, Bear Back shuffled his feet slowly to the right; the men jolted, raising their rifles. "Don't you fucking move!" the father barked. Bear Back slowed to a stop. The two men adjusted course and proceeded with their arrest.

CRUNCH

The father cried out in fury as a bear trap caught his shin, throwing his rifle into the air. Instinctively, the officer turned toward his companion. Bear Back aimed his pistol center masse and shot a bullet into the chest of the officer. The officer was down and the father was immobile and unarmed. Timmy was shaking in the snow, staring in disbelief at the quickness of the events that had just unfolded. Bear Back then stared at the boy.

"Shoot him boy!" the father finally cried out from pain. Timmy rattled as he attempted to raise his rifle, aiming at Bear Back. "W-we're gonna t-t-take you in for what you did, you dirty Dixie!" Timmy exclaimed. Bear Back stared at the boy. "What did I do?" Bear Back asked. Timmy fell silent and still. His eyes searched for answers that weren't in his mind; he had never thought to ask why they were going after Bear Back. "Don't hunt a man just because you're told to, son. In the end, we'll all face justice for what we've done." Bear Back began to walk slowly toward the boy, patted his head, and disappeared into the peace of the dark mountain.