an old fisherman who had attested to it, and even shown him several blurry photographs. But the shape was unmistakable. On a gamble, he’d decided that this year’s hunt he would try to ascertain the legend of the island. With him were his buddies Kyle and Sean, and his son Kieran, just back from university.
Everything had seemed to be going well; everyone was happy and the beer was plenty. The jokes and atmosphere light and jovial, even though all four men knew that they were venturing into protected waters. Fuck the rangers, Arthur had announced. They didn’t really care about poaching and everyone knew that there were no bears this far out. If anything, if they did find a bear and shot it, they’d only be proving that knowledge truthful, right?
His strange logic had been enough for his passengers. But now, things on the Pygmalion were grim, the tension was palpable, you could almost cut it with a knife. In the forward section, there were still screams, long mournful howls that seemed to cut through the bulkheads.
Arthur’s son Kieran looked as pale as a ghost, despite the fact they’d managed to bandage the wounds and get him cleaned up. But he would be scarred for life – he might even die. He drifted off to sleep, and Arthur watched from a stool as his son held onto his life by a thread. He hadn’t even seen the giant grizzly, it had come out of the woods like a torpedo and slashed Kieran’s belly like a hot cheese wire. The stench of blood and sweat and fear clung to every surface. Arthur leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead.
“You hold on, kid,” he said, and turned.
Outside, Kyle had his arms crossed. Sean was biting his thumbnail, both men seemed balanced on edge, waiting for Arthur to speak first.
“Is he…?” Sean squeaked.
“Out, for now. Bloody bear nearly ripped his guts out… I… I don’t know if he’ll make it.”
“Shit, Arthur, we need to go. The longer we stay here, the worse off Kieran’ll be… he needs a fucking doctor,” Kyle blurted, offering some rational reasoning to the table.
Arthur merely nodded at him. “I know. That’s why Sean is gonna take Pygmalion back to the docks, you got that?” the other man nodded furiously. “You leave in five minutes, go plot the course.”
“What about you?” Kyle asked sharply.
“Go!” Arthur said to Sean, who ambled off obediently, and turned to Kyle. “This isn’t over. I’m staying… I’ve got supplies and I’ve got the outboard. I’m going back.”
“That’s fucking ridiculous Arthur!”
“They almost killed my boy!” the bigger man boomed, and it echoed through the boat. Reluctantly, Kyle took a step back and rubbed his jaw, set with a good four days of scraggly growth that made him look older than he was.
“Arthur, something’s very wrong here… that… that first bear you shot,” Kyle began.
Yes, Arthur wanted to say. Something strange indeed. He was almost beyond happy to see the rumors of the island come true, and on their first day perusing its coastline. The grizzly had been black, fierce and long-legged, although not as big as the original claims but you had to take those stories with a grain of salt. It had been Kieran who’d spotted him first, from the back of the outboard, and Arthur had raised his sights, leveled and shot.
A wave must have hit the wale of the little boat though, because the shot went wide. He saw the bear collapse, though, and the other men had cheered him on as they landed ashore. But when they made their way to where the grizzly had fallen, there was no bear at all – only a naked man, fetal and white on the dark sand, blood pulsing onto the sand around his head like a cruel halo.
“Shit,” Kieran had sad, always the sage, among them.
It was impossible, it had surely been a bear. Sean and Kyle and Kieran had agreed. It was hard to register. Old Native stories about shifters, skin-walkers, came flooding back to Arthur but he kept them to himself, no need to scare the other men. They’d probably laugh at him anyway. And yet, here was the evidence. He had shot a bear but now they were all gawking at a young male.
“Is he…” Kieran was about to say.
Arthur raised his gun again, and Sean’s face blanched. “Arthur what are you doing?”
“Look,” Arthur said plainly, “we’ve been hunting… illegally… off an island that is rumored to have bears. And