Thirty feet.
Twenty feet.
Mateo tightened his hands on the bat, hoping it would give him the length he needed to negate the bear’s reach advantage.
“Drop to the ground!” A voice sounding just like Isadora’s shouted at him.
The bear faltered for a second. Mateo obeyed, hoping this wasn’t his last act.
Unbelievably, skirt flying, a barefoot Isadora in her streetwalker outfit skidded to a halt with her partner from the bar right behind her. They had their Glocks out and drilled the bear with six rapid shots each at point blank range.
The bear went down and lay unmoving.
“Firefighter Mateo Soto, are you okay?” she asked, keeping her gun trained on the bear.
“I’m fine.” He stood up. “Is it dead?”
“We’re not getting closer to find out. You come over here.” She stood rock steady, and he noticed her feet had been run raw.
“Thanks for the save.”
“I’d hug, but, until we’re sure Yogi isn’t getting up, the scene isn’t secure.”
“Are there any more?” Her partner checked the other directions.
“Leslie and I only saw the one. Oh shit, Leslie.”
Now that his adrenaline was falling, he realized he hadn’t seen Leslie since she fell off the minivan. It had probably only been moments ago, but it felt longer.
“Who’s Leslie?” Isadora asked.
“The lady firefighter from the bar,” the other police officer said, and Mateo remembered he’d left with Leslie weeks ago. “She doesn’t return phone calls.”
“Who gives a shit about that? She had the bear chase her to save a group of kids. I’ve got to find her,” Mateo growled.
“The scene isn’t secure!” Isadora called out, but he was already running toward the minivan.
“There can’t be that many bears.” Mateo found Leslie crumpled on the ground by the overturned van.
He rolled her over, stabilizing her neck and noticing abrasion on her forehead. Her hands had scrapes on them like she’d landed on all fours. She was definitely breathing, and her pulse was rock-steady. He untucked her shirt to begin his secondary survey of injuries.
She had the palest skin he’d ever seen. Every vein and artery were visible through her near translucent skin. Her ribs had a complete set of bruises forming, red and purple splotches on the alabaster, and higher…
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the tart question redirected his eyes upward.
“Making sure you’re in one piece,” he said. “Any neck pain?”
“No. I know how to make a soft landing with a break fall.” She told him. “My neck never hit.”
“Good. Then I can do this.” He picked her up and carried her toward the ambulance.
“Put me down, lieutenant!” She struggled in his arms, but a hundred wiggling pounds wasn’t much of a challenge.
“Can you shut up? I’m taking you to the Medic. I don’t want you to get woozy and hit your fucking head,” he yelled at her.
Alive and screaming. Thank God.
More police cars and animal control were pulling up. In the corner of his eye, he could see Isadora consulting with other police officers and a ring of people surrounded the bear.
