Because a clean shot in the right spot would drop the mother bear dead. That could make the youngster attack, but it could also make him run instead. If she starts bellowing in pain, though, it’ll set him off for sure.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Dalton says.
“Excuse me?” Angus says. “You aren’t sheriff here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like us to leave?”
Dalton lowers his gun, and my heart thuds. I know he’s making a point, but I’d really rather he did it without, you know, disarming himself in front of a grizzly.
“Come on, Casey,” he says. “These guys have this under—”
“No.” The sound comes as an almost inaudible squeak. It’s the man trapped by the bear. Moses. His eyes slide our way, round with fear. “Please.”
“Ignore my son,” the third man says. “We appreciate your assistance, Eric. Your suggestion is…?”
“You aren’t going to like it,” Dalton says, gun going up.
“Eric,” I murmur. “Less talking, more acting.”
The third man gives a ragged chuckle. “Just tell us what to do.”
“Angus? That’s your name, right, boy?” Dalton says.
Angus bristles, but only says, “Yes.”
“On my signal, you will come over with us. Your dad will stay where he is, rifle aimed at Momma Bear. Casey? You’re going to step about three paces right until you have a clear shot at her face. Let Storm do whatever she wants.”
My breath catches at that.
“I know,” Dalton murmurs. “But trust her, okay?” He raises his voice. “Casey and Angus’s dad—”
“Leon.”
“Casey and Leon? Momma is your primary target, but only if she attacks. Junior is the secondary target.”
“What will you be doing?” I say.
“This is the part you won’t like,” he murmurs under his breath. “Moses? On our signal, you will dodge my way. Toward me and Angus. Stand with us.”
“What?” I say.
He continues. “Do not run. That goes for you, too, Angus. If we run, she’ll charge, and one of us is going down, and Casey will make sure it’s not me. We stand together. United front. Hopefully, a bigger threat than she cares to tackle once no one’s between her and her baby.”
He’s right. I don’t like it. He may be armed, but his focus will be on Moses. It’s the best option, though. This isn’t a case of trying to save the bear’s life. It’s trying to save human ones. Miss that shot, and we have two enraged grizzlies to deal with, and at that point, it might really become that nightmare scenario of “grab my guy and my dog and run,” leaving the settlers to their fate.
“Okay,” I say. “Do you want me in position first?”
“Please.”
I move and then Leon does. The younger bear notices. Stepping to the right means I have a better shot at the mother bear’s face, but it also brings me parallel to the cub.
When the young bear eyes me, Dalton says, “Can you adjust?” while struggling to cover the strain in his voice. I do. It isn’t easy. Move farther to his right and I risk getting behind the cub, who won’t like that. Move farther away and I risk my shot. I edge in both directions as much as I dare. That puts me waist-high in foliage, and Dalton seems to appreciate that partial blind. He nods in satisfaction and has Angus move toward him, which the mother bear allows.
“Okay,” Dalton says. “Casey, you ready?”
“I am.” My gun is aimed at the mother bear’s nose, for an upward shot into her brain.
“Leon?”